is the gist of this article in the New York Times about people who are experts in their field.
Among topics psychologist Anders Ericsson has studied is writing -- of special interest to me since I fancy myself in the business of writing, crippling psychological blocks aside.
I don't feign being an expert writer, but I've been told I have talent. When I procrastinate rather than write (i.e., most of the time) I lie on my stomach, peer under the bed, and tell my thunderstruck psyche, "I know it's hard, but you've got talent." This pleasant placebo never coaxes me out, but it calms the whimpering.
Mr. Ericsson, meanwhile, shows up with harder medicine: empiricism. Whatever little push natural aptitude provides is inconsequential next to practicing every day with a method that gives you immediate feedback and goal-setting.
A noteworthy pullquote:
Ericsson's research suggests a third cliché as well: when it comes to choosing a life path, you should do what you love — because if you don't love it, you are unlikely to work hard enough to get very good. Most people naturally don't like to do things they aren't "good" at. So they often give up, telling themselves they simply don't possess the talent for math or skiing or the violin. But what they really lack is the desire to be good and to undertake the deliberate practice that would make them better.
Read the whole article, because its entirety is more encouraging than my neurotic presentation.
1 comment:
Holy cats, D. I feel bad enough about underproducton already. Reading a book about hypergraphia goes in the "not helpful" column.
"Even the clinically insane can write but I can't? Aw, super! I'm just gonna work at Radio Shack and adopt a road in my off hours."
A life of happy mediums has actually been a goal of mine. If I had corresponding highs to match my lows, I might feel differently. But when your range is from "okay" to "don't bother taking showers for a week," a life of happy medium seems like shooting for the moon, you know?
Post a Comment