Composer’s Block and My Writing Process
by maxverse
I’m sitting at my home studio, staring into my equivalent of a writer’s blank page, and nothing is coming. I’ve been through this cycle a hundred times before, but it never gets easier. My fingers trace over the same tired chord progressions – the problem isn’t in the chords, it’s in how I heard them, of course – and nothing comes. And then the Vampires start to creep in: “I’m not good enough. What am I even doing?” From Elizabeth Gilbert’s brilliant TED Talk:
I fell into one of those, sort of pits of despair that we all fall into when we’re working on something and it’s not coming and you start to think this is going to be a disaster.
Not just bad, but the worst book ever written.
I’ve never actually believed in Composer’s Block, unless it’s a perpetual, ongoing thing. Free-flowing melodies – call it “inspiration” – come so rarely, that they are almost miracles. Struggle is the norm in my art. My best work comes from fighting myself to write – fighting for hours, day after day, until I pick up crumbles of music off the floor. So, staring into my blank Logic screen, I am disheartened (as usual,) but not surprised. I know that what separates me from a good piece isn’t divine approval, it’s the willingness not to give up.
The process is nearly identical every time, and I’ve often shared it with friends. Some of the Days below actually take a day – others can take several, or even a week.
- Day 1: I struggle with messy ideas, bouts of self-doubt, and miserable feelings of worthlessness. I write down a dozen variations, and delete eleven of them, because they’re not even worth a second look. I think: “who am I to even try to be a composer? I’ve never written anything good, and if I have, it was by chance. This work is going to be a disaster, if anything comes of it.” At the end of the day, I either dump the project altogether in a rotten mood, or leave a few variations on screen.
- Day 2: The ideas have had some time to percolate, and sometimes, I’ll sit down with new variations in mind. Often, especially, if my head has been in the music for weeks, Day 2 is a repeat of Day 1, and nothing comes. Sometimes, I’ll listen to a variation from before and see potential – and start drafting something more concrete. At best, at the end of Day 2, I’ll have a messy sketch of an idea.
- Day 3: “Hey, this has potential!” Inspired by having something to work with, I get into the arrangement and orchestration, finding the best instruments and sounds for the music. This, at best, is where new ideas start coming. I feel empowered and inspired to create, and enter the state psychologists call “flow.” Opposite of Day 1, I begin to feel almost arrogant (which is really dangerous!) – like I’m doing important, crucial work, and the music I’m writing is really great and special.
- Day 4: With a part done, it’s often time to add new musical ideas: another part (a bass line?) or another chorus, or another movement. I freeze up in paralysis – “I finally had sometime worthwhile, and now I’m going to ruin it.” Here, I have a tendency to think of my past work as inspiration- or luck- driven, and once again go back to Day 1. Oftentimes, especially if I’ve reached a crucial moment in the music, I can be stuck here for days. Once, I spent 2+ weeks in one of my worst struggles ever. It resulted in some of my most successful musical writing, but I wanted to beat my head against the wall in the meanwhile.
- Day 5: Write, write, write. Hopefully, at this point, I’ve already figured out what I want to see, and I have the melodies down. At this point, I need to arrange, orchestrate, mix, edit, record – all tasks a bit more technical than free melodic writing. This is the part I’m both good at and enjoy thoroughly.
- Day 6: The final push – the ending. With the majority of the piece done, I’m back to Day 4 with the ending. “What if I ruin it?” It’ll usually take me a few days to wrap up, and even then, my endings are often weaker compared to the pieces themselves. I’ve given everything I had, and I just want to stop.
Often, weeks will pass before I’m able to listen to and evaluate my music with reasonable effectiveness. Sometimes I’ll be very pleasantly surprised – 80% of the time, I’d say, if I really gave it my best work. Sometimes, I think there’s a lot to be added.
Either way, the process, however predictable, is something that I go through every time. Right now I’m in Day 1, and it’s not pretty, folks.
How do you deal with artistic block? Whether you’re a writer, a painter, a composer, or a sculptor, how do you approach your creative process?
One More Step 
Hey Max! I nominated you for the Shine On Award 🙂 Congratulations! Even if you don’t pass the award on, I just want you to know your great posts make a difference in the blogging community & I hope the nomination puts a smile on your face! http://projectlighttolife.wordpress.com/2013/07/01/shine-on-award/
Thanks a lot, Christine! As a new blogger, I’m still finding my way around, and support of fellow writers like yourself really makes all the difference. I’m looking for more great blogs to be able to pass the award on, so if you have any recommendations on good reads, please share!
Best,
~ Max
I prefer to wait for inspiration before sitting down to write – get a pad and pen and write down the elements of the story you want to convey. I try to imagine a picture or movie in my head when I try to write something, and my objective then becomes, “write the score for this scene.”
If nothing good seems to come of it and I get frustrated, I have found it’s best to step back and do something else for a while. I’ve never been able to write while angry or depressed.
That definitely makes sense, and I can certainly relate to writing to a scene – in my work, that’s literally what I’m doing. Part of my point with this post, though, is that depending on inspiration to write makes it harder to accomplish bigger musical goals. Sometimes, motivations strikes, and I’ll finish a piece in one sitting. Much more often, however, consistently sitting myself down and just getting started is what ultimately results in good music. I’m a big proponent of “just do it,” because a lot of people (Felicia, for example) correlate a lack of inspiration to an inability to write. If you’re a composer – a good composer, as you are – you’re a good composer always, and not just when inspiration strikes, and nothing motivates creativity like stress. Of course, and in addition, in freelancing, being able to write to a deadline a matter of whether the job gets done or not.
TL;DR: if lack of inspiration is what’s keeping you from getting started, just get started.
So similar is my experience, I could have written exactly the same words! Composing can be torture. Fast long walks and listening to music of a similar genre for ideas can help.
Couldn’t agree more! It’s all worth it in retrospect though.