The creative value of mistakes
Charlie Ellis
“If you don’t make mistakes, you’ll never make anything”
For the last few weeks, hundreds of Edinburgh Festival and Fringe performers have been trying their best to connect with, entertain, and enthral audiences. Not all will have succeeded. Generally, it takes a number of appearances at the Fringe for performers to find their feet, to find their voice – and to get an audience of more than a handful. For those who eventually ‘make it’, this process will involve years of learning from errors and missteps.
This was the focus of The Playwrights’ Hidden CV at The Library of Mistakes, organised in conjunction with Playwrights’ Studio, Scotland. The event was a highly insightful peek into the day-to-day life of those who write for the stage.
The foundation of The Library of Mistakes was inspired by the need to learn lessons from financial crises and examine the structural reasons behind them. What lies behind such moments are, as Russell Napier commented in his opening remarks, psychological factors such as herd mentality and confirmation bias. As Napier noted, these aspects are prevalent in many areas of life. Hence, the idea of inviting speakers from outside the finance and business spheres. What insights could those from the cultural world provide?
A writers’ practice
At the event, Zinnie Harris (Associate Artistic Director, Royal Lyceum Theatre Edinburgh) and Douglas Maxwell (Associate Playwright, Playwrights’ Studio, Scotland) talked about the parts of a writers’ practice not usually discussed in public settings. The event consisted of a highly engaging exchange between the two speakers, before a Q&A. Time and again it was the making of mistakes and learning from them that was at the core of the discussion.
Harris and Maxwell spoke in a way that will have resonated with many in the audience, whatever their background and profession. In particular, it had great relevance for anyone involved in any type of writing, creative or otherwise. The task of writing, whatever the genre, is a difficult craft, often involving severe psychological as well as technical challenges. These challenges were discussed in an illuminating way.
The speakers were not only experienced and knowledgeable but were also superb public communicators. As one of the audience members noted, the speakers spoke with commendable openness, “showing vulnerability”. They did not shy away from the darker periods in their careers. Their initial themes were resilience and adaptability and how to attain these key attributes.
Resilience and adaptability
The speakers talked about their different routes into the world of playwriting and the mixed blessing of success. Maxwell had, over several years, sent off about 25 unsolicited scripts before he got his first commission. His perseverance had, ultimately paid off, though Maxwell warned against writers bombarding editors, commissioners etc. (“do what I say, not what I do!”)
In contrast, Harris was already fully involved in the theatre world when she began writing. She became frustrated being involved in the production of other people’s plays and set herself the task of writing her own. Her first ever play was commissioned. However, this led to a period of crisis as she tried to live up to this and actually complete the project. This, she believes, led to the health issues she suffered for over six months, though this period of enforced inaction inspired her to create. “I was thinking up ideas as I lay there”. For many writers and artists, periods of illness have led to creative breakthroughs.
After his first commission Maxwell had a period of sudden success, as plays “burst out” of him. This rich seam carried him forward for several years, until severe self-doubt struck him. “I didn’t know how I had done it”. A successful commission for the EIF led to a “public disaster” as the limitations of the work became abundantly clear on its first performance. He admitted that, frankly, he “had no idea what it was about”.
In the space of a few weeks, he went “from hot shot to laughing stock”. He had to go back and analyse what he’d done. He needed to become more conscious about what he’d been doing unconsciously. As part of this ‘reset’ he went back to sending unsolicited plays, fearful that some of his work was being accepted purely because his name was on it. This was how he dealt with the “millstone of success” and the creative cul-de-sac he’d got into. What do writers need to get out of such crises?
Cheerleaders
For Zinnie Harris it was crucial that creatives built up supportive voices to help balance the internal critic always chirping away on your shoulder. They need to “activate” their “external advocates”. These people who can help you “zoom out and see what you can’t see”. People who will see what you have achieved, not what is lacking. Eventually, creatives need to internalise these cheerleaders, helping you get through the inevitable periods of crisis and self-doubt.
For both, finding your authentic voice takes time but is absolutely fundamental to good work. They should follow Dolly Parton’s suggestion to “find out who you are and do it on purpose”. In short, becoming conscious about what type of writer you are and not trying to emulate others. The speakers were aware that the voice in their writing was now so clearly defined that AI could easily replicate it.
The creative craft
Both speakers also emphasised the importance of creatives remaining playful in their art, as well as being conscious of craft. That, as they develop, writers should become more conscious that they do possess genuine expertise, borne of many thousands of hours of writing, thinking and redrafting. It is “repetitive trying” that is the heart of the creative process, not the very limited number of inspired moments.
Sometimes, the abilities writers possess only become evident when they come to teach or to mentor others. Both speakers had discovered this when teaching and mentoring younger writers. By becoming conscious of their own craft, they will be able to pass on nuggets, as well as spot limitations in the works of others. One piece of advice that both emphasised was not to get trapped in a piece of work, not stuck with the same project for many years. It was important to put some work aside and to diversify into other types of activity and writing.
Zinnie Harris had diversified into writing for television, including for the BBC spy series Spooks. This had been a rather intense period of her career (“TV is bloomin hard”). The lesson she drew from this was the need to maintain some degree of creative control. In television there are so many voices (from the channel, from the production company etc) offering ‘notes’, that the script soon becomes incoherent through excessive drafting. She talked of doing 9 drafts in a very short period of time, before finally convincing the producers that the second draft was the best.
Darkest fears
Asked by a member of the audience whether he was optimistic, Maxwell gave an interesting response. Broadly he was optimistic about the future of Scottish Theatre, seeing great potential in some of the younger playwrights he had come across. He also hopes that Glasgow’s Citizens Theatre can re-emerge as a focal point.
At a personal level, Maxwell felt that his general sense of optimism and balance was a product of his artistic endeavours. It was in his art that he often worked out his emotions and stress. That being a playwright offered him a canvas on which to “play out my darkest fears”. This is something that many artists refer to – of the healing potential of art. When looking at some of the darker aspects of his work Maxwell often wonders “what if I let that play out in real life?!”
He did admit to having darker moods at times, but these often emerged on days when he struggled to produce good work. Maxwell has begun to keep a diary, keeping track of the ups and downs of his creative process.
Reading downhill
How does a playwright or any writer know they are producing good work? For Maxwell, this often becomes evident when reading out his work aloud. He genuinely leaves his drafts for a while and when he returns to them, he looks at how well they flow. They should in his words, “read downhill” with an effortless momentum. If not, the places where the flow falters are those areas to cut or alter. In similar fashion, a read through with actors will often reveal areas where the writing could be tighter. Sometimes, the reaction certain lines get, leads him to cut material that he is proud of but gets in the way of the flow. As a writer, this can be painful but, as Maxwell noted, such lines and ideas can always be reused. Most writers do a lot of this ‘repurposing’.
Getting back on the horse
The next day I found myself listening to a podcast interview between Rob Brydon and the renowned TV producer and writer John Lloyd. Similar themes were at the core of their discussion. Lloyd was a figure in classic television comedies including Blackadder, Not the Nine O’Clock News, QI, and Spitting Image. A career which most would see as success laden. However, Lloyd felt that in large part his career had been “mostly a series of disasters”, but ones he had recovered from. He had been persistent and “got back on the horse” when others might not have. This, for Lloyd, was the key aspect for his success.
Lloyd also praised those who had given him a second chance at various moments in his career. This included a “terrible” unaired pilot for Not the Nine O’Clock News. Similarly, Blackadder was going to be cancelled after its first series but got a reprieve. In both cases, Lloyd was able to use the lessons learnt from the early missteps to produce much better work. Too often, Lloyd regretted, people are not given second chances.
This perhaps is the deeper piece of learning from Lloyd and the two speakers. That is that creatives and writers need to build up the confidence to put their work out into the public domain, knowing though there is always a risk of disaster.
Doppelgangers
What Harris, Maxwell and Lloyd were articulating was the notion that ‘behind…every finished product, there are 100 flawed, adjusted and at times wasted efforts’. This was the view of the political scientist Lewis Minkin, as articulated in his fascinating book on research and writing, Exits and Entrances: Political Research as a Creative Art. Part of the reason for him writing the book was the way that his published work was regularly praised for its succinct coherence. Minkin found this hard to tally with the messy realities of the research and writing process. It sometimes felt as though he was looking at a doppelganger’s work when his books and journal articles were published.
The powerful image Minkin painted of the writer’s doppelganger was very consistent with Harris and Maxwell’s discussion. They have achieved success and prominence, but when they reflect on their careers, disasters and missteps dominate their narrative. Crucially, they had learnt from these and not been crushed by them. Also, they had been able to turn their darker periods, psychologically, into art. Any worthwhile endeavour involves making mistakes, but great value can be gleaned from them.
Charlie Ellis is an Edinburgh-based researcher and EFL teacher who writes on culture, politics, education, sport, and coffee. [email protected]
