Last September, I wrote "Fighting Out of Formation – a Metaphor for Creativity."
If you look at George Washington or Napoleon Bonaparte, their forces knew how to fight out of formation. That’s why they were able to win important battles against larger, more well-equipped forces. They stirred up a bunch of chaos because their forces were able to handle chaos better than the enemy.
I think if you want to do creative endeavors like writing, painting, whatever – you need to learn to fight out of formation. By that, I mean you need to learn how to do it without having “formal expert tone” or being highly polished. Ideally, you can communicate well without necessarily obeying grammar and punctuation. After all, the point of writing is to communicate – the language is supposed to serve you, you’re not supposed to serve it.
It takes a lot longer to get into formation if you’re out of it than to just fight slightly wild and crazy. Of course, you should learn discipline and how to fight in formation, and should be able to do well in that role. It might even be your bread and butter. But if you’re editing every memo you send, every blog post you write, every rallying talk or speech you give – then you’re burning a lot of time.
This is something I've tried to adopt for myself, but it goes against my nature. By nature, I'm a perfectionist. My natural tendency is to work and re-work and re-work and re-work something ad infinitum.
I recognized that this isn't going to cut it, so I started looking to do things faster.
But what does that actually mean, what does that actually translate to?
I try to work quickly, to do prolific amounts of work. The last two blog posts could serve as a good example.
Two days ago, I wrote "70 Years From Now" - basically, I had the idea of looking at 70 years before an empire fell, what was happening in the empire? Interestingly, the Ottoman Empire fought the Crimean War exactly 70 years before falling, and its allies during that war became its adversaries during World War I.
The piece was coming together well, so I decided to look where all the countries of the world were 70 years ago. I checked the United States, the USSR, China during its Civil War, Imperial China, the UK, and Weimar Germany.
I collected some figures and notes about the political leadership of each country, discovered some interesting things, and I think I wrote it into a rather interesting piece.
Then I realized... wait a minute, 1931 wasn't 70 years ago. That was 80 years ago.
So I cursed a little bit, and I had some decisions on my hand. I thought the point about the Ottoman Empire, World War I, and the Crimean War was interesting, and I thought 1931 was an interesting time to look at what was happening in some of the world powers, since people didn't know what lay ahead of them.
What'd I do? A threw a little coat of paint on the piece very quickly, "70 years… 80 years… how long is that? Not that long, really. Average lifespan in the Western world is right between 70 and 80 – and still climbing. Many of us will be alive 70 years from now."
Before that, those both referenced 70 years, the whole theme of 70 years ran through the piece. But whatever, it wasn't the main point and the piece still stood, and people seemed to like it. Lots of good comments on it.
Then yesterday, I write "Celerity" about moving faster with things. I'm quite busy right now and I had to head off to a meeting right after writing it, so I didn't have time to edit beyond a quick skim.
I see words I'd cut, I see a little transition I'd add, and I'd unify the the point about Augustus and business better if I were to edit it heavily.
But you know what? It's fine.
Obviously, like anyone doing anything creative, I'd prefer my work is perfect. But if I had set a standard of perfectionism, I would have quit a long time ago. Instead of imperfect-but-still-interesting work, there'd be no work at all. Meanwhile, I think my writing is improving as the months go by.
So, how about you, dear reader? Are you being a perfectionist in some things that are stopping you from doing more and more interesting work?
I feel that your 70 years post was great because it provided an idea of thinking about how much things can change in a certain timeframe. That 70 or 80 number isn't so far off that it would've affected the piece at all. So putting the idea out there is the majority of what matters in my opinion.
Perfectionist? Definitely. Sometimes, I can't do my rejections cause the situations are "too imperfect" or he/she looks too "imperfect" or I'm too "imperfect" to be seen as worthy or or my writing is too "imperfect" and why do I still do it? And all those insecurities comes up because ideally I'd want to have everything flow well (social life, writing, schoolwork, etc.)
But I guess you're right in that it's better to express yourself even if it isn't as perfect as you'd want it to be because at least the main concept/idea is out there in the world to share! So it's fine.
In the year 1853, the Ottoman Empire had been in power for 554 continuous years. Abdülmecid I was Sultan and, shortly into the year, the Albanian-descended Governor of Crete Giritli Mustafa Naili Pasha took the post of Grand Vizier.
Queen Victoria was the Monarch of the British Empire and Lord Aberdeen was her Prime Minister, though the Queen favored one of his rivals, Benjamin Disraeli, as an advisor.
In France, Napoleon III had been elected President of the Republic in 1848, and had dissolved the National Assembly two years previously in 1851. In December of 1852, the Second French Empire was established, with Louis-Napoleon becoming named "Napoléon III, Emperor of the French."
Across the Atlantic, Franklin Pierce was the President of the United States of America and Jefferson Davis was Secretary of War. There were 31 states at that time, and the American Civil War had not yet been fought.
In mid-1853, the Russian Empire started maneuvering troops to key places on the Baltic Sea near Ottoman territories. Hostilities were about to break out into the Crimean War. The primary forces were Ottoman, British, and French fighting the Russians. The war ended with a decisive British/French/Ottoman victory.
It is Sunday afternoon and I am drinking tea. Just sitting down to write. When I write, the topic has usually been made clear to me earlier in the day, or perhaps the day before.
But not today. These writing sessions are always the most interesting, because of a few reasons.
As you start, you have no idea what’s going to come out of your fingers. But you don’t want to go on with meaningless ramblings, so you force yourself to enter into a sort of flow state very quickly. You get better at it with practice.
Two days ago I stumbled upon a thread on Quora about writing advice. Someone said that you should never write about things you thought up beforehand. Everything you write should be in-the-moment writing, because everything that isn’t is a fabrication of ego.
First, I disagree with the use of the word ego, but I know what he means and I understand what he’s saying. I don’t agree though. All writing isn’t made equal.