And That’s It

Last night I went to hear David Sedaris read from his new book, “Let’s Explore Diabetes With Owls.” Being around a professional writer is always fascinating. Just like everyone else, I want to know their secrets. I want to know what makes them write such great stuff. I want to know what magical potion they chug each morning before sitting down at their desk – the potion that, though it surely tastes less-than-stellar, produces best selling novels.

Just give me the secret!

Unfortunately there isn’t one, and that seems to be the running joke among all published authors. One does not sit down at his desk and bang out five chapters, flawless, ready for print, in half an hour. Yet that seems to be my expectation. If I start writing and don’t like where it’s going, I scrap it and assume I have nothing to say. Then it’s days, even weeks, before I sit down to write again.

I suppose my bar is set a tad high.

Malcolm Gladwell destroyed my hopes of becoming an overnight writing sensation when I heard him say in an interview that to become really exceptional at something, a person must spend 10,000 hours at it. That’s the equivalent of four hours a day for ten years.

Four hours a day. For ten years. Banging it out no matter how you feel, no matter how good it is, no matter what you do or do not have to say.

Four hours a day. For ten years.

There’s your potion.

Macklemore wrote a song about this phenomenon called, appropriately, “10,000 Hours.” Here’s a good line (or depressing, depending on your perspective):

The greats weren’t great because at birth they could paint

The greats were great because they paint a lot.

And that’s it. If you want to be great, get to work. Everyone says so.

Want to play in the NBA? Shoot 15-foot jump shots four hours a day for the next ten years.

Want to play trumpet at Carnegie Hall? Practice those scales until you’re playing them in your sleep.

Want to be a neurosurgeon? Memorize every latin prefix.

As for writing, I’ve looked for secrets in dozens of books from Stephen King to Anne Lamott to Stephen Pressfield to Donald Miller to my sophomore English professor. They all say the same thing – get to work! And be ready to get to work the next day. And the next and the next and the next and the next…until ten thousand hours have passed.

Then, by all means, write that novel.