Through the cracks

The idea to write about Hugh MacLeod's Ignore Everybody didn't originate with me.

Here's what happened. Sometime during the holiday season, I received e-mail from Derek Sivers, the founder of CD Baby. He offered to send a copy of Ignore Everybody or one of Seth Godin's books to the first 15 working/blogging musicians who responded.

We would share our thoughts about the book on our blogs, then send him the URL. He would post links to the reviews on his own site one month later.

It was a great opportunity not only to take part in some nifty communal creativity, but also to drive a bit o' traffic to the Cinder Bridge blog.

I responded to Derek too late to receive a free copy, but that didn't matter; I already owned Ignore Everybody. I told him I was in.

Today, exactly one month later, Derek put the links to the reviews up. My post wasn't on the list. Why? Because I hadn't written it yet.

I didn't forget. It was on my list of things to do. I just lost track of the time and thought I still had a week or so.

* * *

I'm at my best when I only have one big thing to focus on. There are always distractions, of course. There will always be bills to pay, errands to run, dishes to do. But I'm OK as long as I can mentally place them in orbit around the One Big Thing.

For a while now, however, my life has been pulling me in four or five different directions at once. There's the day job, which demands a lot of time and energy. There's the music, which turns out to be many focal points instead of one: songwriting, practicing and rehearsing, gigging, and promotion. There's advocacy for ME/CFS awareness, which overlaps with the music, but not entirely. There's all the other life stuff.

When I had fewer things competing for my attention, I was able to overcome my natural tendency toward total disorganization. (Mostly.) Now, stuff falls through the cracks. Actually, everything but the job falls through the cracks. Nothing gets my full attention. Nothing gets done as well as it should.

And of all the time-sucks I've listed above, there's nothing I'm willing to give up.

So there was a certain irony to my last post about the creative freedom one gets from a day job. Don't get me wrong. I meant every word. It's just that, especially right now, I can also see the other side.

If I supported myself by gigging for cover bands, I would also be honing my craft. I could apply all the practicing, rehearsal, and promotion to my overall goals as a musician.

* * *

I'm not the first creative type to face this conundrum, and I won't be the last. But the ones who are successful are the ones who learn how to deal with it. Somehow, they figure out a workaround.

My greatest fear is that I'll go my entire life without learning the "somehow."

Sex and cash

Years ago I met a fantasy/science fiction writer who had recently published a Star Trek novel. I watched Star Trek: Next Generation faithfully, and I'd met my share of hardcore Trekkies, so my first assumption was that he must be a big fan.

No, he said, not particularly.

At the beginning of his career, the writer explained, he decided that he would support himself by writing books. No day jobs for him. Just books. The money he earned from Star Trek novels and the like allowed him to write the stories he really wanted to write.

I was incredibly impressed that he'd been able to pull this off. Making a living as a novelist is well-nigh impossible.

Still, I wondered if I would make the same decision in his shoes.

* * *

A month or so ago, I read a short book that came highly recommended by Derek Sivers, the original founder of CD Baby. The book, Ignore Everybody by Hugh MacLeod, contained unconventional advice to those of us who pursue creative endeavors.

I found most of his tips insightful, but one of my favorites was "keep your day job."

The creative person basically has two kinds of jobs: One is the sexy, creative kind. Second is the kind that pays the bills. Sometimes the task at hand covers both bases, but not often. This tense duality will always play center stage. It will never be transcended.

MacLeod calls this his "sex and cash" theory: one way or another, you'll always have to balance your need to support yourself (cash) with your desire to do the creative stuff you like (sex).

Reading this made me feel better about myself and my life.

Because eventually I did find myself in my writer friend's shoes. I started writing songs, bought a keyboard, joined a band ... and kept my day job. Why kill myself trying to find work as a lounge pianist, or as a member of a cover band, playing songs I didn't care for, when I already had a way to support myself?

In the end, keeping the day job didn't mean I was selling out somehow. It meant the opposite. It meant I could focus on the music I wanted to make rather than singing the equivalent of Star Trek novels.