I can see why some people would find this talk very annoying, but I also think there's some really good stuff in it.

Paradoxically, it can really help writing, if you stop trying to write a masterpiece, or a bestseller, or both, and decide that your job is just to show up.

http://www.ted.com/talks/elizabeth_gilbert_on_genius.html

Emma

Thanks for that Emma. Very entertaining and hammers home the idea that if you put the hours in, you get the results - that perhaps the inspiration is more down to hard work than divine intervention.

Glad you approve, Colin. I think she's actually tougher-minded and intelligent than the 'inspirational' trappings would first make you think.

I think everyone's had that feeling of a piece of writing arriving in a lump from outside, haven't they? And that all you have to do is write it down? (And revise, and revise, and revise, but that's another story)

It's interesting, isn't it - give up on the divine inspiration, and reckon that all you have to do is show up, and the inspiration appears. Try and find it in yourself, and it doesn't, and you panic because you've nowhere else to try. And you live in fear of it ceasing to turn up all together. It ties in with the 'letting go of outcomes' philosophy, doesn't it: get the process right, and the product will be what it should be. If you pursue the product directly, you get it wrong, or fall short.

Emma

I used to work for a games company that worked to those rules, listening to the marketing and sales department rather than the designers and developers. We would spend six months on a game that could be completed and on the shelves in another eight bringing home some kind of return, but the marketing people would do a survey and find that there would be another similar product out in that quarter, so it wasn't financially worth. So instead, we'd have no product out, spend another six months on developing a new title, only to have the same people say the same thing. No wonder the company died. They spent so long searching for gold, they failed to realise they throwing diamonds aside.

I couldn't play all the video as it stalled, but I don't think I think like her anyway. Or like her critics I mean, or those people who think writing is a big deal. Just get up, get showered and get on with it, is my motto. We're not special.

On a sartorial note - why is she trying to hide herself in those black baggy robes? The woman is clearly beautiful and she should put herself in something that fits and is most definitely not black.

Oh, right. I wonder if I got her message wrong then. I thought she was saying exactly that - like you don't put pressure on other trades and professions to produce genius, when in most cases, they are. What I mean is that they are producing extremely high levels of ability, just not getting the fawning and awe the creative professions can receive. Just consider what surgeons, midwives, astronaughts or architects can achieve, and still come to work the next day, the next week, without thinking, "got to work that magic again".

Thing is, I don't believe in genius, or people having a gift. I think people can have an interest that can really drive them to practice and practice, and that practice develops skills and talents of a high level which help to produce work or exceptional quality. The audience only see the final product, not the toil, so they react: "genius".

Writing a novel, painting a picture or standing on a stage singing your heart out is no better, no worse, than a thousand other professions that require the same labour to produce good results. But the creative professions, especially anything to do with acting and film making, seem to need public pats on the back. Nothing wrong with that - I mean, the Oscars really are for the cream of the crop, but when we get down to the levels of the Smash Hits poll winners party or the National Soap Awards, it's time to have a British Plumber Night, with a red carpet and a gold pipe wrench for the winners.

Picasso once did a sketch during an interview. The interviewer remarked, "well, that didn't take you very long". Picasso replied, "It took eighty years.'

Colin M

I love her - ole - I have my tap dancing shoes on!

S

Loved the "'lame' genius" reference, for sharing the blame if your work has bombed.

Just get up, get showered and get on with it, is my motto.

Jem, that's exactly what she's saying (and I don't think you did get it wrong at all, Colin): just show up. Showing up - or getting your bum on the seat - is our job. Anything else magical that happens is from somewhere else. So we don't have to beat ourselves up, or panic that it'll desert us, or take to drugs and drink to find whatever it is which makes something happen. Just show up.

It reminds me of the American writer who was asked if he waited for the Muse, and he said, 'Of course. And I make damned sure she arrives at 9am every morning.' The point being that if you're not there, the Muse won't arrive. If you are there, she might. And even if she doesn't, you'll still have some words on the page to work on.

Emma

Hmmm, I'm a great believer in the muse, but sometimes s/he can be a long time coming while I sit here day after day proverbially twiddling my thumbs and writing rubbish.
I'm not sure she had much of a message in those twenty-odd minutes over and above 'hang around and try to avoid the demon drink, etc. while you're waiting.

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...maybe she should have added a little something about chocolate.

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but she is fun to listen to...as I wait here for my muse.

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...I may even forgive her for calling Dobby the house elf, Dabby.

I liked the story of the poet running after the poem and catching it by the tail. Poets are crackers )

I liked it and thought it made a lot of sense. Very nice comic touches too - loved the bit about being scared of other things [apart from possible failure of future work] - 'like seaweed'. What can be scary about seaweed? I think we should be told.

You'd know what was scary about seaweed if you'd ever been chased up the beach by a boyfriend waving a large length of kelp.

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Well, my muse decided to show up at 2.30am last night and I said to it 'what bloody time do you call this?' as I reached for my pen and pad of paper.

I've just written a 1000 words on the dangers of seaweed! Try clambering over it in trainers.

Someone brough seaweed flavoured biscuits to a buffet the other day. They was minging!

Just what the doctor ordererd. Didnt like her book but love this talk. S