15 Steven Pressfield Quotes to Inspire Your Writing

15 Steven Pressfield Quotes to Inspire Your Writing

Steven Pressfield has been among my greatest sources of inspiration since I committed myself to taking my call to write seriously.

Around that time, a friend suggested I read The War of Art.

It was life-changing.

Since then, I’ve continued to be deeply inspired and motivated by his other books including Do the Work, Turning Pro, The Authentic Swing, and his newest book, The Artist’s Journey (among others). 

Steven’s work, his ideas, and his message have become a part of me. They’ve become a cornerstone for how I approach my writing practice, and what I do as a writing coach.

In fact, the core of what we offer at Called to Write could not be more perfectly aligned with The Artist’s Journey, both of which span the practical nuts and bolts of writing all the way to the more spiritual aspects of calling, destiny, and purpose. 

Today I’m sharing 15 of my favorite quotes from his books, with the intention of inspiring you, as he has inspired me.

#1. “There’s a secret that real writers know that wannabe writers don’t, and the secret is this: It’s not the writing part that’s hard. What’s hard is sitting down to write. What keeps us from sitting down is Resistance.” ~ The War of Art

I have found this to be true, over and over. Every time I’m tempted to check something online or take care of something else first, it’s resistance. And this is what we do with my writing community — help writers overcome fear, doubt, and resistance, and sit down to write. Every day. For me, showing up to one of our daily writing sprints helps me press that inner “Go” button and get to work. Every time.

#2. “If you find yourself asking yourself (and your friends), ‘Am I really a writer? Am I really an artist?’ chances are you are. The counterfeit innovator is wildly self-confident. The real one is scared to death.” ~ The War of Art

I have very much found this to be true. Those who question their calling are the most likely to be truly called. I also find that a writer’s sense of identity is a byproduct of actually writing. In other words, once we’re writing, regularly, we feel like writers. And it’s surprising how little it takes to get to that place. 

#3. “Are you paralyzed with fear? That’s a good sign. Fear is good. Like self-doubt, fear is an indicator. Fear tells us what we have to do. Remember our rule of thumb: The more scared we are of a work or calling, the more sure we can be that we have to do it.” ~ The War of Art

I also loved what I heard Steve say in an interview once, “Figure out what scares you the most and do that first.” Fear (and resistance) truly shows exactly where we need to grow. If there’s a place in your writing you’re experiencing resistance, look there first. That novel idea you’re avoiding, the story you’re longing to write but you’re scared you won’t be able to do justice? Go there. 

#4. “The professional arms himself with patience, not only to give the stars time to align in his career, but to keep himself from flaming out in each individual work. He knows that any job, whether it’s a novel or a kitchen remodel, takes twice as long as he thinks and costs twice as much. . . [he] steels himself at the start of a project, reminding himself it is the Iditarod, not the sixty-yard dash. He conserves his energy. He prepares his mind for the long haul.” ~ The War of Art

Writing is very much about the long haul. Every screenplay I’ve embarked on has taken far longer than I’ve ever anticipated. I’ve learned now to catch myself when I start saying things like, “this will practically write itself!” and to recognize it as one of the many voices of resistance playing tricks with my mind.

#5. “Creative panic is good. Here’s why: Our greatest fear is our fear of success. When we are succeeding — that is, when we have overcome our self-doubt and self-sabotage, when we are advancing in our craft and evolving to a higher level — that’s when panic strikes. . . When we experience panic, it means we’re about to cross a threshold. We’re poised on the doorstep of a higher plane.” ~ Do the Work 

“Threshold” is a perfect word here — there are transitions in each work where panic appears. When we’re closing in the on the end, when we’re pushing our envelope. It’s fascinating how that’s often the moment when things go awry and panic sets in. The most important thing is to not make it mean anything. 

#6. “Start (Again) Before You’re Ready: I was living in a little town in northern California when I finally, after seventeen years of trying, finished my first novel. I drove over to my friend and mentor Paul Rink’s house and told him what I had done. ‘Good for you,’ he said. ‘Now start the next one.'” ~ Do the Work 

I’ve always loved this concept, because it reminds me that this is a lifetime choice for me. I’m a writer. This means I will always be writing. So when I’m done with one, I celebrate it, but then I get going on the next.

#7. On writing “A Character Smarter Than I Am: I realized something I had already known: The part of our psyche that does the writing . . . is far deeper than our personal ego. That part is tapped into a course whose wisdom far exceeds our own. All we have to do is trust it.” ~ The Authentic Swing

Something I love about Steven Pressfield is his ability to bring in the reverence and awe of drawing on our greater, wiser selves with our writing. That even while we’re doing the “blue collar” work of writing, much like digging trenches and just showing up and putting in the time, we’re also resonating with the Muse on  a higher plane. The work comes through us, when we let it. 

#8. “Aspiring artists often kill their careers in the cradle by overworrying and overthinking. Don’t do it. … You discover who you are as you go along. What defines you is what you have done, but the weird part is you never know what that’ll be until you do it. The trick is: Do it.” ~ The Authentic Swing

Just do it. Just do the writing. And I don’t mean — “just write” — I still prefer to plot and plan my work. But writing is where the answers lie, pen to paper, fingers to keys, even if I’m dialoguing with myself, noodling to figure out what I’m doing. Thinking isn’t writing. I put words on the page to find out what I think, what I know, and who I am. 

#9. “How Writing Works . . . The trick to writing, or to any creative endeavor, is that once you start, good things begin to happen. You can’t explain it. You don’t know why. An energy field is created by your love, your will, your devotion, your sweat. . . Trust it. Be brave.” ~ The Authentic Swing

Writing takes on a life of its own. Writing regularly brings a kind of self-sustaining momentum to it, once we get it going. That’s where the magic happens.

#10. “Before we turn pro, our life is dominated by fear and Resistance. We live in a state of denial. We’re denying the voice in our heads. We’re denying our calling. We’re denying who we really are. . . What changes when we turn pro is we stop fleeing.” ~ Turning Pro

Turning Pro is one of my favorite books of Steve’s. When I read it, I straighten up and get serious about my work, no matter whether I’m loving or hating it. I take it seriously. 

#11. “When we turn pro, everything becomes simple. . . We now structure our hours not to flee from fear, but to confront it and overcome it. . . This changes our days completely. It changes what time we get up and it changes what time we go to bed. It changes what we do and what we don’t do.” ~ Turning Pro

Yes. Once we commit, we redesign and reconsider everything. We recognize the effort it takes to overcome the resistance, and design our writing lives to minimize that friction and get ourselves to the page as quickly and as easily as possible, each and every day.

#12. “The amateur believes that she must have all her ducks in a row before she can launch her start-up or compose her symphony or design her iPhone app. The professional knows better. . . Athletes play hurt. Warriors fight scared. The professional takes two aspirin and keeps on truckin’.” ~ Turning Pro

Although some might find the idea of writing hurt harsh, I’ve found that so many of the stories we tell ourselves about why we can’t write just aren’t true — and most especially those things we tell ourselves we have to have or have done first (like having more time, more money, better computers, or the bills paid, house clean, laundry done, kids off to college… you name it).  

#13. “The artist on her journey confronts no foes that are not of her own creation. Her fear is her own. . .  She has created them mentally. She can defeat them the same way.” ~ The Artist’s Journey

Most everything that stops us with our writing comes from within us. Our fears, our doubts, our excuses. Our addictions. (My experience is that grief may be an exception to this.) I love Steve’s point that we can defeat these the same way they are created. 

#14. “On the artist’s journey, all strengths are mental. . . [and] are self-generated . . . all may be acquired by effort and force of will.” ~ The Artist’s Journey

Our strengths, just like our fears and doubts, come from within as well. We can learn resilience, patience, courage, and more. 

#15. “An artist’s identity is revealed by the work she or he produces. Writers write to discover themselves… whether they realize it or not. But who is this self…? It is none other than the ‘second you’ — that wiser ‘you,’ that true, pure, waterproof, self-propelled, self-contained ‘you.'” ~ The Artist’s Journey

An underlying concept of the The Artist’s Journey is that our “second self,” the part of ourselves that is greater and wiser, is the one who writes. When we allow her to do so. I call this part our “essential self” — the part of us that remains when everything else (ego, personality, negative habits, limiting baggage) has been stripped away and we can step forward fully into ourselves and shine. Steve suggests that our role as artists is to move between our first and second selves, essentially “returning with the elixir” over and over again, as we write, even many times in day, and that the core of what we’ve been put here to do is to make that journey over and over again.

I love this.

If you’d like to check out these books for yourself, here are links to them on Amazon.com and Black Irish Books (Steve’s publishing company). The Amazon links are affiliate links, which means I earn a small commission if you click on them and purchase the books that way.

Photo by Colton Sturgeon on Unsplash
6 Takeaways From Rewriting “The Seventh”

6 Takeaways From Rewriting “The Seventh”

I can't believe it, but I've worked on two different screenwriting assignments this year, all while taking care of my little toddler, who just turned two in May. It hasn't been exactly easy, but it's been incredibly inspiring. There's nothing quite like working on a screenplay with a deadline to shift one's motivation into high gear. ;)

I recently shared that I'd overhauled my character profile template in the course of working on this latest assignment. Now I want to share some of the other things I learned through the process of working on this gig. This was a rewrite project, so it was almost like being hired as a script doctor, but since I'm also sharing writing credit for the project it's a little different than being a true script doctor, which is often uncredited work. The project is called The Seventh, and it turned out to be incredibly fun to rewrite someone else's work (not at all like rewriting my own!).

Here are six unexpected takeaways I gained from working on this project:

  1. Reverse-outlining pays off. Before I dove into the actual rewrite, I reverse outlined the entire script. I exported it from Final Draft into Scrivener and then into Numbers (the Mac version of Excel) so I could have a spreadsheet I could easily study all in one place. I like the Navigator in Final Draft and the outline view in Scrivener, but for this, I wanted something I could easily see in one place and control in ways that I wanted.

    Once I had the scene headings from Final Draft imported into Numbers, I went through each scene and summarized what happened in a few short sentences. Then I made notes about issues I noticed as I worked through. I also numbered the scenes. The beauty of doing this work is that it highlighted story issues, pointed out plot holes, and helped me get clear on the natural story breaks and sequences, and how well they were working, or not. Since I like to work in mini-movies (approximately 15 minute sequences) it helped me to see how well the script was working with that pattern and showed me where I needed to tweak it.

    What made this so fun was that it was like being a sleuth, digging in, finding what was working and what wasn't. Very satisfying!
  2. Backstory matters. I knew this before. But now I KNOW it. Working on someone else's project gave me more courage to dig deep into the how's and why's of everything. I couldn't write it unless I understood it. With my own projects, I've been more cavalier about understanding where everyone comes from and why they're doing what they're doing, thinking I'd figure it out along the way (and of course I learned more about these characters even as I worked with them).

    But there was something about delving into all the details and leaving no stone unturned when it came to even the slightest motivation or plot hole to get our story strong and straight. This is, of course, particularly important with a complex sci-fi world such as the one in The Seventh, but as I've watched and read other stories lately it's gotten crystal clear -- the characters exist before they come onto the scene in our stories. They have histories. Issues. Relationships. And all those come to bear on the decisions they make and the motivations they bring to the scenes they're in.

    We went through several different iterations of the backstory, and the feeling of finally getting a lock on it was thrilling, particularly because we didn't give up on it until it truly worked.
  3. Having a rewrite plan helps, but it's not set in stone. We went into the rewrite knowing we had a certain number of days to accomplish it (40 days). And we calculated approximately how many days I could spend rewriting each 15-page section of the script to hit our deadline. But as we went into it, we found ourselves spending more time on the backstory and world building than we'd anticipated. QUITE a bit more. Which meant that I had to compress my timeline.

    The other unexpected variable was that the script got longer, due to a variety of factors. So my calculation of a number of pages per day didn't exactly match what I actually had to write. So again, I adapted.

    A third monkey wrench was what one of the writers in my writing community calls a "black hole" section, where the whole thing just takes a lot longer than expected to sort out. Not all 15 page sections are created equal, after all!
  4. Tracking progress helps keep the ship on course. Despite the shifts in the winds of rewriting, because I carefully tracked my progress, I was able to see where I was, and where I needed to end up. In the graphic below, you can see my revision plan in the upper table, essentially starting on June 3rd. We'd intended to start much earlier, but as I mentioned, the backstory and world building work ended up taking 14 days. In the lower table, you can see the number of pages I worked on each day or block of days.

    This is one of those things I geek out about -- watching my progress build, seeing how I'm staying on track (or not) helps make it exciting and fun and keeps me from getting lost in the "I'll never make it" doldrums my inner critic likes to dish out. And I could easily tell my writing partner how close I was to being on schedule at any given point.
    The Seventh Rewrite Process
  5. Having a great writing partner is huge. I was thrilled to work with my co-writer on the rewrite, the original author of this script. I did all the rewriting work, but we worked closely together throughout the process. It was a huge source of fun and delight for me to have someone to bounce ideas off, run problems by, and generally dig deep into the story together. My co-writer was particularly good at keeping his ego out of the way and working hard with me on making sure the story improved. It was inspiring and impressive. Plus it turns out it's just wicked fun to help make someone else's writing that much better.
  6. Screenwriting every day for 40 days was empowering. Since having my second kiddo, I've been interspersing stretches of screenwriting with other writing (blogging, course writing, product writing, etc.) and while that's been easier for me to manage, it's been a little disorienting. I loved the feeling of ending each day feeling like I'd really USED my brain for my truest deepest calling -- writing fiction. That expression "die empty" felt very apropos. Each evening, as I went to bed, I felt complete in way I don't feel when I'm not writing fiction. It was amazing.

Interestingly, when I was first offered this writing gig, I turned it down, based on my level of busyness as a mom, as a writer of my own projects, and as an entrepreneur. But in the end, it was a delightful experience all around and one I'm truly grateful to have been asked to be involved in. I can't wait to see what happens with The Seventh as it continues to evolve!

 

Our Stories Are Our Ladders to the Stars

Our Stories Are Our Ladders to the Stars

I just watched Donovan Livingston's Harvard commencement address. It's truly stunning.

If you haven't seen it, it's worth watching, thrice over.

You can also read the full text online here too.

He spoke to the deepest part of my heart and soul, where it comes to writing, to education, to believing in ourselves and in our children and in our capacity for greatness.

I loved this:

I was in the 7th grade, when Ms. Parker told me,
“Donovan, we can put your excess energy to good use!”
And she introduced me to the sound of my own voice.
She gave me a stage. A platform.
She told me that our stories are ladders
That make it easier for us to touch the stars.

Write your stories.

 

Photo by Greg Rakozy, used under the creative commons license.
Sci-Fi Circuit: Exploring Sci-Fi With Writer Scott Myers

Sci-Fi Circuit: Exploring Sci-Fi With Writer Scott Myers

A new article on the ScriptMag blog about making the most of sci-fi, with screenwriting expert Scott Myers.  

Image by prettysleepy1 from Pixabay

What if you don’t want to write every day?

What if you don’t want to write every day?

As the proprietress of an online program designed to help writers build a daily writing habit, every once in a while someone says to me, "But Jenna, what if I don't want to write every day?"

My answer is, "That's okay."

If....

The reason we advocate daily or near daily writing in my writing community is that most of the time, the writers who come to us are flat out struggling to write  -- at all. And it turns out that the more frequently you write, the easier it is to sustain the habit.

Some writers CAN write on a different schedule and it works perfectly well for them. That's completely fine. I have no objections. Because if you're someone who can write two to three times a week and keep that going over the long haul, that's great! Or if you like to go for months without writing and then have no problem cranking out a book without getting burnt out or frazzled, all the more sparkle bright ponies for you. Really.

But if you're someone who wants to write but isn't, or isn't living up to your desired level of productivity and completion, or keeps getting burnt out in binge-writing frenzies, or is wrestling with procrastination, burnout, perfectionism, or writer's paralysis, you might want to try our daily/near daily approach. It just makes it so much easier to break the patterns you're stuck in.

The thing is, a tremendous amount of paralysis that can build up for writers. It's all founded in fear -- fears of not writing well enough, of succeeding or failing, of public humiliation or ridicule, and more. All that fear builds up in our unconscious minds and sends us in an entirely OTHER direction than writing. But when we first break that pattern of writing-aversion and turn toward writing again with a small, doable step like writing for five to fifteen minutes, we can build new neural connections that reinforce writing as a positive thing in our lives. And if we do it again the next day, it makes it easier and easier to keep going. And once we build our writing up to habit levels, we start operating out of a whole new paradigm, one where taking a day off here or there doesn't throw us completely off track.

No matter what though, the bottom line is this: Do what works for you. There is no one right way to write. There's no one right answer to how to write. Different approaches work for different people. Find yours.

 

Jenna Avery
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