I am so excited and quite nervous that the launch date for Part Two in the Playing Doctor series is finally here. One thing that happens when you put something of yourself out into the creative space, is that you gain an even higher respect for every other person writing blogs, books, composing music, sharing thoughts, directing and writing films – everyone starts out with this hope to share something funny, or insightful, or inspiring, or provocative, or just entertaining. The work, the fears battling an internal critic, can be substantial. I have found myself so much more appreciative of every piece of work that is put out, you want to congratulate everyone on their endeavor.
So many people will tell me, “I’ve wanted to write a book,” or, “I have an idea for a story.” And I encourage them to do so—but staring at a blank screen or piece of paper can bring on paralysis so quickly. Resistance, with a capital “R” is something Steven Pressfield, in his books on creating, elucidated for me in his writing, pointing out that it is a force of nature, like gravity. As soon as you decide to do something, all sorts of forces will get in your way, positive and negative forces that challenge you – a sick kid, a beautiful day to go play outside, a promotion at work that demands the very hours you thought you might put pen to paper… almost like the universe asking you, “Do you really want to write that article?” And the internal concerns are worse: who would want to read my book? There are plenty of articles on the same subject. I don’t know how to write a book. Where do I start? My writing sucks, people will make fun of it/me.
Go read Steven Pressfield’s The War of Art. It will inspire you.
Just start. Journal. Forget the fictional word “perfection.” Remember writing is re-writing. Just get something on the page. A page. A paragraph. Start.
I carried this paragraph in my wallet for years. I’ve experienced its truth in many aspects of my life:
“Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favour all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamt would have come his way. I learned a deep respect for one of Goethe’s couplets: “Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it. Begin it now.”
—W.H. Murray (The Scottish Himalayan Expedition)
My new book Playing Doctor: Part Two; Residency is out now.
