The final Brass Ring (of 2018)
Oh, hi friends!
I am writing this from exactly and precisely 32,024 feet in the air. Right now we’re just south of Colorado Springs, a couple hours away from California. Flying from New York all the way to the western butt of the contiguous United States takes around five-and-a-half hours. I’ve done this flight dozens of times.
You can busy yourself with the fruit and cheese plate, or Crazy Rich Asians playing on the seatback screen. You can try to sleep, but it feels like your head’s dangling on a string controlled by someone even higher. Maybe they’re at 32,025 feet? Bobble…bobble…bobble. Your neck is powerless against the string.
The pilot illuminates the seatbelt sign and says things will get “a bit choppy” for 10 or 15 minutes. The plane’s now on its own, bigger string. Bobble…bobble…bobble. Powerless.
And yet.
You have faith you will land in La La Land, even though you’ve never once called it by that name. Maybe you have faith because there are round babies with chipmunk cheeks onboard or because statistics show that flying is safer than practically any other form of transportation. (This is an un-fact-checked fact; you think I’m paying for in-flight WiFi?)
Getting bobbled up and down like this reminds you of the entire year, maybe your entire life, or at least, certainly, the creative process. How little bursts of turbulence can resolve into smooth rides without you noticing. Sometimes, all you feel are bobbles. You might believe someone a little higher, a little more powerful, is controlling whatever happens next. Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe instead of focusing on the bobbles, you can focus on the faith: You will land at your destination, you will land at your finish line, and you can go on your merry way.
And in the time it took to write this, we’ve moved on. We’re over Albuquerque now. Cruising at 32,030 feet. For now, the bobbles have stopped. And it strikes me: All I could think to do during the choppy period was take out my laptop and start typing. I wasn’t looking for the Muse. I just started moving my fingers. But this calmed me, as it always does.
Are you getting a little holiday break? I hope so. And I hope it’s restful or productive or joyful or cookie-filled or whatever you need it to be. I am going to be with my family and my Colin and do a little work on two things that give me a lot of joy—my next song and my Pulitzer play—because that’s exactly what I want to do. As I go grab my own brass rings, this newsletter will take a little nap until, say, January 1. (Big surprise here: I love New Year’s.)
So go do your things, whatever those things may be. And remember, you control the strings.
You have plenty of time.
Photo by Lukas Blazek on Unsplash
“So Lorna and I came up with a plan. I would, for a four-week period, ruthlessly clear my diary and go on what we somewhat mysteriously called a “Crash”.
During the Crash, I would do nothing but write from 9am to 10.30pm, Monday through Saturday. I’d get one hour off for lunch and two for dinner. I’d not see, let alone answer, any mail, and would not go near the phone. No one would come to the house. Lorna, despite her own busy schedule, would for this period do my share of the cooking and housework.
In this way, so we hoped, I’d not only complete more work quantitatively, but reach a mental state in which my fictional world was more real to me than the actual one.”
Kazuo Ishiguro and his apparently very patient wife kept up this very unusual routine for a month, which resulted in his classic book The Remains of the Day. I’ve had my sprints of working round-the-clock, but only for a day or two. But a month? It’s an intriguing thought, and makes me want to try out new strategies in the new year…though perhaps ones not as ruthlessly strict. (h/t Will Brumley)
Reminded me of this piece on why writers pine for a do-it-all spouse and the legend of Vera Nabokov, who did practically everything for ol’ Vladimir.
If you want to overdose on musical theater (who doesn’t!), take a look at Lin-Manuel Miranda, Emily Blunt, and James Corden in this crash course of musicals. If this is a little taste of their pairing in Merry Poppins Returns, then I can’t wait to watch over Christmas break. (h/t Charlotte Maiorana)
So this is how to finally write your nonfiction book. Advice you might be interested in for any forthcoming resolutions… (h/t Charlotte M.)
I haven’t read this New Yorker profile of Julia Louis-Dreyfus yet, but feel pretty confident about blinding recommending it anyway.
Tavi Gevinson’s final editor’s letter on the close of Rookie, the website-magazine-community she founded when she was a young teenager, is wise and warm and poignant, and reveals the realities of creating something you love and how that something you love can be consumed by the business side, the “making money” side, the everything-but-the-love side. I can’t wait to see what she does next.
Do you want to get more organized? Psychologist Daniel Levitin says the trick is to write down every thought in your head, because your brain can basically only hold four things at a time. He calls it “externalizing your memory” and, yes, I think I should do more of this. (h/t Nisha Chittal)
After looking at this, now I am inspired to make a pie chart of what I made and created this year as a freelancer. (h/t another Charlotte M. gem)
The playwright Jeremy O. Harris is making waves with “Slave Play”—and he’s still in grad school!
Ask Polly delivers wonderful advice to a reader who can’t stop comparing herself to more successful writers.
My podcast habit was replaced with a show tunes habit this year, but even so, I still wanted to make time to listen to this episode of “How to Be Amazing” with opera singer (turned Broadway star) Renee Fleming. If you listen, can you give me the highlights?
For WeWork Creator, I interviewed A-list celebrity stylist Karla Welch about how to master the art of uniform dressing. (She told me to buy a blazer.)
5 things to do when you have too many ideas and never finish anything. Ahahahaha my life.
My friend Sara Lieberman (who writes the delightful newsletter Overthinking It) recently wrote about dropping all social media until 2019. I mean, if there was ever a time to try it…
Did you read all the way to the end? Wow! Did you click some links that seemed interesting to you? Yay! Are you going to have a restful or productive or wild next coupla weeks? I sure hope so! Do whatever your heart desires. The brass rings will still be there for you to grab when you return.
Do you like these daily emails? Please share with a friend!
Thanks, as always, for reading.
Love, Kara