Ratings148
Average rating3.8
My typical approach to reading a short book like this is to chug it down in one sitting or two, but I took my time with this one ‰ЫУ a whole week!
Over the course of the week, I would see it waiting for me on the coffee table or my bedside table and look away quickly, like it was someone whose eyes I didn‰ЫЄt want to meet. There are some books that are scary because they call you on your bullshit, and it‰ЫЄs not easy to face.
Yes, I would love to be an artist. (I want to put the word in quotes, but I won‰ЫЄt.) But I do not love the idea of what I need to sacrifice for the sake of making art. Especially, though, I do not love the idea of being an artist whose work is actually terrible, even after doing all the work and making all the sacrifices. Not that I have a lot to sacrifice ‰ЫУ mostly only things I don‰ЫЄt need anyway. Wanting to make art is scary, because you won‰ЫЄt find out if you are any good until you‰ЫЄve already taken the risks.
The most important parts of the book were these two ideas:
1. You need to do the work. If you want to write, you have to sit down and write.
2. You need to rely on yourself, not others, to know whether what you make is good.
Pressfield doesn‰ЫЄt talk about how to find an audience or make money. He talks about how to make art, regardless of who will see it or whether you can make a living from it. He talks about being a professional versus an amateur, but it‰ЫЄs not about being successful by other people‰ЫЄs standards. The important thing is to succeed by your own standards. The more important thing is simply to do it.
There are parts of the book I disagree with (connecting ‰ЫПmaking art‰Ыќ with ‰ЫПbeing healthy and sane‰Ыќ goes too far), but most of it is in tune with my difficulties with writing. My biggest problem is that I don‰ЫЄt sit down and write often enough. I want a clear picture in my head of what to write before I start, but the reality is that I don‰ЫЄt know what I want to write until I am already writing. Writing is the means of discovering what I think and what I want to say. But I become impatient with the meandering and worry that I can't tell what‰ЫЄs good and what‰ЫЄs not. Often I give up before I get to the good stuff, or I never get started because I don‰ЫЄt think the good stuff will be worthwhile anyway.
Pressfield‰ЫЄs arguments for how to be an artist ring true for how to be a person, too. You always have to struggle against the weak, mean, sad, angry, scared sides of yourself to do the right thing and get things done. You need to judge your life by your own standards, not by other people‰ЫЄs. You need to trust your own standards or work to improve them until you can trust them.
I enjoyed this book not just for its advice to writers and artists, but because it provides an approach to dealing with things I‰ЫЄve been struggling with for a long time. I‰ЫЄve imposed limitations on how I think I should live my life, and I think I‰ЫЄve been wrong. I don‰ЫЄt regret anything, exactly, but I see things differently now. I suppose, though, I wouldn‰ЫЄt see things differently now if I hadn‰ЫЄt lived through those self-imposed limitations. I'm not carefree and boundless, but maybe I‰ЫЄm closer.
(Originally published in my weekly newsletter, All This Reading, with some differences.)