Well, rats. I had an old article about Diane Arbus all teed up and ready to go this morning, which would have given me a free morning for writing, but I see that I already republished it—in June of 2019 when I had my partial cornea replacement operation. In fact, I republished all of the old "T.O.P. Ten" articles I wrote back in the 'aughts, under the freshened rubric "Ten Iconic Photographs." Here's the one about Arbus; if you're interested, you can go from there either forward or backward and see the others.
Those articles are getting pretty dusty now. Can't rest on past laurels forever. You're only as good as your latest sh*t, as a friend of mine used to say. Otherwise you're Brooks Koepka, the golfer who was on top of the world in 2018 but hasn't done or won anything lately. (Sport is brutal that way, by the bye.)
Shoulda, woulda, coulda...what I should have done is write another one of those articles—articles discussing specific individual photographs, I mean—every so often, and just kept plugging away. I had a strategy; I had a start. Those ten articles were the start. If I had started in 2006 and written just one more of those articles every two months or so, by now I'd have 112 of them in the can and I could have tried to market it as a book. I can't remember if I ever meant to do that. The idea still seems gauzy and vague to me, somehow. I'm never clear in my head.
John Camp is a reader of this blog. He's better known as John Sandford, the writer of 54 bestselling thrillers (like the number of my Mennonite friend Alvin's grandchildren, the number keeps growing. Alvin has about as many grandchildren as John has novels. I can't believe either one could name them all!). Here's a nice bio of John. I asked John years ago how to get a book published, and in the same email proceeded to provide my own answer, in the form of several long, tortured, idea-laden paragraphs about concepts and psychology and strategies and so forth. His reply was crisp and quick. I can't find it, so I can't quote it, but essentially he said: Nope. Just finish it. My observation has been that when writers finish things, good things happen. I replied that it can't be that simple and he said it is that simple. I'm paraphrasing.
How many books have I finished since then? None. How many books have I started in my life? The number must be in the low tens of thousands by now (I exaggerate, though not by much, *rimshot*). How many of them did I finish? None. Is it my aim to die with the most started-but-unfinished books of anybody? It appears so. I am in the running to win the prize for that. Well, except that I have lost most of those beginnings. Me and writing books is like that pop definition of crazy: doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result.
[UPDATE Thursday evening: I'm just being funny, or trying to. I'm not actually all upset over this. Don't worry. I'm a writer of short pieces. I know that. I'm not trying to bring anybody down.... —Mike]
Did you know that Janet Malcolm, a sometimes photography critic who died in 2021 and who has a new posthumous book out called Still Pictures: On Photography and Memory, once wrote an article called "Forty-One False Starts"? It's about the artist David Salle, and consists of 41 attempts to begin an article about David Salle. The really funny thing about it, of course, and the thing that twists up my brain like a rag you're trying to get water out of, is that she finished it, and it was published, and it became famous even.
The older I get and the further I go, the more value I give to two things which historically I have not had: energy, and the ability to follow through. That is, to finish. I would probably place those two virtues at no. 2 and no. 3 on the list of attributes you need for success in the arts, and maybe in everything. I wonder how many parents start out with the intention of teaching their children the habit of "finishing everything they start"? Is it just a habit, one that should be started early? Or a gift, provided more by character than by training? My parents were forever telling me that I couldn't do things. If I tried something—anything—my mother would explain to me that what I was trying to do was too hard for me, and that the people who did that thing (whatever it was) were serious people who worked very hard, the implication being that I was not a serious person and would not work hard. Was she trying to protect me from disappointment? I never did figure out what was behind her impulse to throw cold water on everything. When my father found out I wanted to be a writer, he actually made an appointment with me to discuss the matter. We sat down alone together on the veranda of a rented house in Georgetown, D.C., at a scheduled time. He framed it that we were going to "debate" the issue, with me taking the "pro" side and him taking the "con" side, each arguing vigorously for our assigned positions. He prepared; I did not. It ended up being a spirited two-hour harangue, mostly one-sided, covering every conceivable reason why a.) a writer was a silly, foolish, disreputable, impractical thing to want to be, and b.) all the reasons why I, in particular, could not be one if I tried. I'm not kidding; that actually happened. He was a very persuasive man, my father. According to him, he convinced the Harvard Business School to accept him into the Masters in Business Administration program even though he had a 1.9 GPA from a little-known Midwestern liberal arts college; he claimed his was the lowest GPA of any student the Business School had ever accepted, although I would question how he knew such a thing. Later, he talked his way into becoming a Director of NASA* even though he was (again, according to him) the first NASA Director ever who was not a scientist. He ended up "our little talk" very pleased with himself, convinced that he had run roughshod all over the campfire I was trying to kindle and stomped out every spark and ember. When I read in a biography of Picasso that Picasso's father gave up painting on his son's sixteenth birthday, giving him his paints and proclaiming that, "from now on, Pablo is the painter in the family" (I hope I'm remembering that correctly), I could only marvel at it. Thus the no. 1 thing you need for success: self-belief, wherever and however you get it. (Funniest cartoon I have seen recently: a group of art students clustered around a computer. One says—I'm paraphrasing again: "AI started out strong, but then it got self-aware and now all it does is question itself and procrastinate.")
I'd like you to consider this for yourself, but I'd also like to recommend that you advise any younger photographers to adopt this habit, consciously and deliberately: resolve to finish anything you start. Right out of the gate, the mere idea of finishing confers a huge benefit: it forces you to set the terms of your own success. You can't very well finish anything if you don't know what "finishing" means. So there's that: to finish, you have to first define what it's going to mean to be finished. That provides a whole lot of clarity right there.
There's an even bigger advantage, however: namely, that you're also forced to understand what "it" is. What exactly is the project? Look through the work again. What part of it is most vigorous, most alive? What piques your ambition or satisfies your eye? If you've worked enough so that you have a start, then the answer is in there. The project doesn't have to have a "public" definition, rendered in artspeak all gleaming and pretty. It's between you and you, so the way you understand it can be crude and coarse if you want: I want to make black-and-white digital pictures of heavily lined faces. I want to work with models. I want to photograph exquisitely arranged collections of random found objects. Whatever it is. To finish something, you naturally have to first be clear about what that something is.
Once you understand what it is you're doing and how it's going to come to an end, you can throw yourself into the work and work steadily toward the goal. Those are two things you cannot do if you are just gadding about amusing yourself any old which way. And when that goal is met, you are free, free move on, with a clear head, and a clear heart, and a feeling of accomplishment, to something else, something new.
And that is how to put one foot in front of the other, I think, in this creating game.
Mike
*The head guy is called the Administrator; there are, or were, six Directors under the Administrator. My father was Director of Space Applications in Jerry Ford's Administration, and was (again, according to him) the highest-level Ford appointee allowed to stay on into the Carter Administration. That is, until he pissed off Carter's Chief of Staff. But that's another story.
Original contents copyright 2023 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)
Featured Comments from:
David Dyer-Bennet: "Modern rich people say 'fail faster.' That's kind of the opposite of 'finish everything you start'; they're saying be ready to abandon your baggage and move on when it's time to stop burning good money after bad. I strongly suspect different people need different mottoes to live by, because they have different characteristic failure modes. Certainly the importance of hard work is either ignored, or approached very badly, by parents throughout my lifetime (not my own particularly, I hasten to add; not actually sure where I acquired my semi-decent ability to persevere, but I had it by 8th grade at least). Inarguably, successful people, especially in the arts, are people who have finished a lot of things. I strongly suspect (and I've been in conversations with a lot of successful writers in particular) that nearly all of them have chosen not to finish some things and are good with that choice decades later."
JOHN B GILLOOLY: "As is often the case, and curiously so, this post comes at the exact moment in my life when it intersects perfectly. That has happened to me with many of your posts—to the point where I sometimes actually think you've been following my recent activities!!"
Mike replies: I promise I am not stalking you! :-)
James: "Have you ever read Proust's A La Recherche du Temps Perdu? A great deal of the plot (to the extent there is one) is driven by Marcel's desire to be a writer, and his parents' desire to protect him from that career path. Marcel succeeds, it turns out."
Mike replies: No, I haven't read that, but I did write a satire once claiming that researchers had proven once and for all that no one, not even one person, has ever read Proust....
kirk: "Mike, I'm serious here (for a change) but for the life of me I don't understand how you can give out advice about finishing stuff if by your own admission it's your own personal kryptonite. If it's something you have no clue about how to do. You have some conjecture but no proof of your suggestions.
"Getting stuff done all seems so straightforward. You don't need a plan or a strategy or a spreadsheet, etc. One just needs to decide they'd like to do something and then sit down every day and do it. At some point it's done. No excuses. As the universe's most famous Jedi Knight (Yoda) once said, 'Do, or do not. There is no try.' The intention to finish should be assumed."
Mike replies: But Kirk, you are blessed with energy, follow-through, and self-belief....
John Krumm: "You finish stuff every day, even if you also don't. I have to counsel my wife on this. People prone to depression tend to not take stock of their successes, or to assign them very little value, while failures are put up on a stage and given a trophy. Your blog is a big success that many, many writers would be envious of. To actually pay bills by writing about photography on the internet, without endless posts about gear, but instead full of insights into all sorts of subjects, that's something to be proud of. Dads can be awful. Mine was a master manipulator. At one point he assigned us chores, and instead of paying us an allowance, he paid us in 'dad time' coupons we could use for fun stuff with him. We didn't want to ever spend it, so it was worthless."
Severian: "At one level, I agree. Perseverance and finishing is a powerful habit and mindset. However, for the opposite perspective, Steven Levitt (of Freakonomics fame) and Annie Duke (author of Thinking in Bets: Making Smarter Decisions When You Don't Have All the Facts and Quit: The Power of Knowing When to Walk Away and also famous as a poker player) make strong arguments that most people don't quit soon enough or often enough on all kinds of things. Check out their discussion on Steven's 'People I Mostly Admire' podcast, episode #93. Years ago, I used to feel bad when I didn't finish reading a book or a magazine article. I don't suffer from that delusion any longer, and I wish I had learned to 'quit' a lot sooner."
Albert Smith: "Sometimes finishing can be overwhelming simply based on the 'end item' being so far from the initial move to get there. So rather than being so obsessed with that end item, break up the project into doable steps, and then do each of those steps. You will get multiple dopamine releases and will eventually finish what you started. Could you imagine how hard it would have been to fulfill Kennedy's goal of landing a man on the moon within the decade if they didn't do the incremental steps of Mercury, Gemini and the development of the lunar module as stand alone goals? They were all moving to the final task, but were doable in their specific focus. If the task of 'get to the moon within the decade' was tried as a single event, they'd still be at a drawing board wondering how they could finish."
darlene: "Making a habit of setting and managing realistic expectations works too. I am not a writer per se, but I have had to write a lot during my professional educator career. And in the beginning, it felt a bit mechanical to me, but not so much any more after years of doing it. When I write, just as in photography, I know what I want to say; if I do not, I wait until I do. That is where expectations come into play. Aimlessly pointing a camera would waste my time and energy, as luck has never been on my side. I see that as setting myself up for disappointment. I alone have to care for myself, physically and mentally. I take full responsibility for my place in life, regardless of what my parents did, and they were both neglectful parents. But I forgave them the moment their selfishness overtook the right thing to do because you forgive others for yourself. Not everyone gets that, but that is my story, and it works for me. I made my living with a camera, so I had to be motivated and know what I wanted to say with it. My energy is limitless when motivated, whether in writing, photography, or any other creative endeavor. And I love to be in that energy cycle. It's a high like no other and can have a mind of its own, which can be fascinating as to where it has sometimes led me. It starts with realistic expectations, which is the gift I gave myself a long time ago. One step at a time, and before I know it, I am over the finish line."
Was your father this way with your brothers too? Or just you?
I find myself getting mad at him upon reading this--of course, I've never met your father--and wanting to say, hey, lay off, will ya? Give Mike a little love and support. Won't cost you anything. And who knows, he might surprise you!
Posted by: Gary Merken | Thursday, 16 March 2023 at 02:07 PM
Mike wrote
"...what I should have done is write another one of those articles—articles discussing specific individual photographs..."
I bet if you started now, and published one a month on TOP, you would have some very happy readers.
Maybe not a book, but as you noted yourself previously, TOP is where you earn your daily bread.
Posted by: JTK | Thursday, 16 March 2023 at 02:07 PM
Perhaps your father felt that you couldn't make a living taking pictures. I wonder if he would feel the same way if you wanted to be a plumber!
Bill
Posted by: William Giokas | Thursday, 16 March 2023 at 02:32 PM
Well, you have now painted yourself into an Escher-like corner. I would guess you have plenty of started projects within Yards of the finish line. Try just one.
Posted by: James Weekes | Thursday, 16 March 2023 at 03:53 PM
my condolences re your parents mitreatment of you.But... you have a successful blog which based on writing. First thing I read of yours was the snarky "the internet reviews 10 photos" or something like that. Brilliant burn of internet 'experts'.
Posted by: Dennis | Thursday, 16 March 2023 at 04:01 PM
Hi Mike, since you recently mentioned you're currently running low on photo writing ideas; have you considered doing a series of reader portfolio reviews and discussions? I'd imagine they would naturally lead to a bunch of topics for new article, might(?) be interesting for many readers, and super valuable exposure for the selected portfolios.
As an AdAm (to use your terminology), one of the things I miss most in my involvement with photography is exactly such qualified feedback from likeminded people, preferably of more experience than myself.
Posted by: Jakob Linke | Thursday, 16 March 2023 at 04:53 PM
This post is reminiscent of a Seinfeld script. A post about nothing... well a post about why there wasn't going to be a post. Very clever pivot sir.
Posted by: Kye Wood | Thursday, 16 March 2023 at 05:28 PM
Mike, with regards to creating, and the big R (resistance), might you find these podcast episodes of interest:
https://www.richroll.com/podcast/steven-pressfield-584/
https://www.richroll.com/podcast/seth-godin-728/
https://www.richroll.com/podcast/robert-mckee-736/
https://www.richroll.com/podcast/steven-pressfield-732/
Posted by: jp41 | Thursday, 16 March 2023 at 08:36 PM
Well Mike it is quite interesting that none of the book ideas that you have started have apparently failed to hold your interest to bring them to fruition. Payday is at the finish line
Posted by: Terry Letton | Thursday, 16 March 2023 at 09:25 PM
Only tangentially related to your post, but I laughed at this line from Sandford/Camp's bio page:
Posted by: Globules | Thursday, 16 March 2023 at 11:31 PM
When self doubt creeps into your mind and ties up your progress, remember, your audience definitely has lower expectations than you do.
Posted by: Dan | Friday, 17 March 2023 at 04:48 AM
There is a danger into looking too deeply into the methods of people who have proven success for a recipe for success: survivorship bias https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Survivorship_bias
I suspect everyone who succeeds finds their own recipe, and their explanations of their own success have a tendency to be post hoc rationalisation. We should never overlook the contribution of luck,10 talented, hardworking people may simply be separated by a good break that got them on their way.
TOP is a superb product and a success story few people enjoy; you don't perhaps appreciate your own work enough.
Posted by: Dave Millier | Friday, 17 March 2023 at 06:47 AM
Mike, you might take a gander at this slim little book.
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1771965169/ref=ppx_yo_dt_b_asin_title_o01_s00?ie=UTF8&psc=1
It's quite funny while feeling spot-on about the chaotic and contingent nature of writing as a calling or a career. Getting used to failure and moving on with the work is sound advance in any area of artistic creation.
Posted by: Geoff Wittig | Friday, 17 March 2023 at 08:24 AM
I haven't read Proust, either. But I do enjoy a nice madeleine, so I think of him often.
Posted by: george4908 | Friday, 17 March 2023 at 05:00 PM
Mike,
I wish I could offer you some constructive and worthwhile advice. Your skill set is what it is, and you’re great at it. Just do what you want, (and it seems to be working), and don’t worry too much about the awards, critiques or rules that others mark their passage with. And try not to label yourself as anything that follows a path that restricts your life. For what it worth, your blog is pretty much one of the few I read for content, responses and insights. Those things sometimes have immeasurable value.
Posted by: Bob G. | Friday, 17 March 2023 at 10:00 PM
Am not sure if parents realise how much of an impact they have on their kids, even as we grow older our parents still have the ability to make us feel a certain way (good, bad, ugly) no one else can, seems strange but true in my opinion!
Posted by: veer | Sunday, 19 March 2023 at 01:03 AM
Ref Kirk's response
A convict can save a kid from a life of crime. The con might never have benefitted from the advice he gives the kid, but by god, he knows the consequences of ignoring it.
Posted by: Sean | Sunday, 19 March 2023 at 08:17 PM