Wednesday, 6 August 2008
A Labor of Love

I often read a short Taoist passage or look elsewhere for a wise thought to contemplate throughout the day. Today was no different. I read a quote by the 13th-century Chinese landscape painter Chao Meng-fu who explained it took twenty to thirty years to truly master his art. Here's the quote*

A child hardly weaned starts to paint in the morning and in the evening boasts of his skill. Really such a person still smells of his mother's milk. It takes generally ten years for an artist to gain familiarity with painting materials, another ten years to complete the general training and yet another ten to be able to develop his own style. The open-minded student is too busily concerned with corrections of his shortcomings to be thinking of sudden popularity. The reward will come to him inevitably with maturity of his craft. Therefore I say, avoid early popularity in order to reach a higher goal.

I wanted to slit my wrists after reading this. (Of course don't do that. Stay in school, don't do drugs, hug a tree, all of that.) But after contemplating the words through the day, the deeper meaning soaked past my protests.

We all dream. There's nothing wrong with that. I imagine myself at signings, taking part in interviews, but can I honestly say that when I sit down to write I'm even past the first stage Meng-fu described? Probably not. But is that a fact to be mourned? Again, probably not. What is more important, instant success and all the crap that comes with it, or later success after you attained confident control and repeatability your craft? I would be tempted to accept the former, but the latter sounds like the path of longevity to me.

So, if offered a chance to publish before my skills are honed, I may accept, but I feel I will be in a better position to refuse some in lieu of others rather than jumping like a whore at the first offer.

That being said, I have to keep in mind that I'm nearly 41 at the time of this writing. I don't have 30 years to get my chops. So what can I do to reduce the time it takes me to get good? Toward the end of my work day, I had arrived at a short list.

  • With the dedication of a farmer, write every day.
  • With the dedication of a professor, read about writing every day, about skills as well as about how other writers have found success.
  • With the dedication of a recovering addict, surround yourself at every opportunity with more experienced writers than oneself.
  • With the dedication of a victim, always speak positively about yourself and your craft.
  • With the dedication of a child, enjoy writing as you did the first day you discovered your love for it.

If you walk with this dedication in your dreams, awake, working and writing, the success will find you. And when it does, nothing about your life will have changed and you won't know you've succeeded.

*The Tao Is Quiet, Raymond M. Smullyan, 1977

Posted on 08/06/2008 9:16 PM by Thomas McAuley