The person who can be uncomfortable the longest
End-of-year goals via Robyn—plus, our next Book Club selection
Last week, my wife sent me a video clip that she knew I wouldn’t be able to resist: the Swedish singer and pop genius Robyn delivering a perfect gem of an insight into the creative process:
If you don’t want to click through, here’s what Robyn says (emphasis mine):
When I tell people who don’t know what I do—like, “What do you do?” “Oh, I make music”—and then they’re like, “Oh, that must be so fun.” And I’m like . . . No. It’s actually not fun. There are moments of pure joy, but the process is very hard and challenging. And it’s almost like a longevity sport—like the person who can be uncomfortable the longest will write the best song.
Um, yes! I think that’s exactly right, and I think it applies to any kind of creative work. Sitting down to try to make something that seems really compelling in your head, and then discovering that it’s not so compelling in reality—argh, that is uncomfortable! Or revisiting something that you were happy with the day before and seeing that, ah, no, it doesn’t hang together after all—super uncomfortable! Or laboring on something for a couple days or a couple weeks or a couple months and finally admitting to yourself that you need to scrap it and start all over again—well, you get the idea.
But the other part that’s uncomfortable, at least in my experience, is this: There’s the thing in front of you, which you want to bring to life. But trying to bring it to life—like, efforting around it—often doesn’t do the trick. What you need to do, instead, is hold it in your mind, not too tightly but not too loosely either, and resist the urge to turn your attention to something else, and then just kind of stay there, and see if this leads to . . . something: an idea, an image, a sentence, an impulse. It’s not trying to make something happen but also not not trying.
Am I making any sense here? Maybe your version of creative discomfort is different than mine, but I do believe this is a core experience of making something original—a state that I described in an earlier newsletter as being 100 percent in doubt about what you’re doing and 100 percent still doing it.
What I love about the Robyn clip above is that she doesn’t say anything about talent, or inspiration, or experience, or even hard work. Who needs ‘em! All we need is to be the person who can be uncomfortable the longest.
In support of this thesis, Robyn also mentions a David Bowie quote on a similar idea, which seems like a good note to end on today. Bowie says:
If you feel safe in the area that you’re working in, you’re not working in the right area. Always go a little further into the water than you feel you’re capable of being in. Go a little bit out of your depth. And when you don’t feel that your feet are quite touching the bottom, you’re just about in the right place to do something exciting.
BOOK CLUB: MITZ by SIGRID NUNEZ
For the next round of the Subtle Maneuvers Book Club, I want to be a little selfish. Ever since finishing my third book over the summer (which comes out on March 31st, though you’re welcome to pre-order it now!), I’ve been thinking-but-not-thinking-too-hard about what project I might want to tackle next. In particular, I’ve been wondering how I might continue along in my current niche—nonfiction focused on writers and artists and how they have navigated their creative lives—but how I might do it in a way that’s not so . . . straightforward. That’s perhaps a bit weirder or more experimental, or at least that feels like a new experiment for me.
So for the next few Book Club selections, I’ll be choosing books that do this: that delve into the work and lives of some brilliant creative minds in unexpected and delightful ways. And I can think of no better example than Sigrid Nunez’s 1998 novella Mitz: The Marmoset of Bloomsbury.
As the subtitle suggests, Mitz is the story of a real-life marmoset who became the beloved pet of Leonard and Virginia Woolf in the 1930s. And in telling her story, Nunez also delivers a wonderfully readable and perceptive mini-biography of one of the twentieth century’s greatest writers—and of the unorthodox marriage that sustained her creative life.
I read Mitz a few years ago and loved it; now I’m eager to revisit it to better understand how Nunez melds fiction and biography into something truly original. Please join me! To take part, simply order a copy of Mitz (here’s the Bookshop link)—or pick one up from your local bookstore or library—and read it before our next Book Club meeting on Sunday, January 11th, at 11am Pacific / 2pm Eastern / 7pm UK time.
In the meantime, I’ll also be posting my observations and questions about the book in the Group Chat, and I invite you all to do the same.
Please note: The Zoom meeting and the Group Chat are for paid subscribers only—but keep in mind that paid subscribers also get access to Worm Zoom, my virtual coworking club, which meets every weekday morning for two hours and which is honestly a steal at $7/month or $50/year. And you’ll be supporting this newsletter, for which I’m very grateful.
(All that said: If you want to take part and you truly can’t afford a paid subscription at this time, just reply to this email and I’ll add you to the comp list, no questions asked.)
FOR YOUR HOLIDAY SHOPPING CONSIDERATION
As you do your holiday shopping this month, may I humbly suggest my two Daily Rituals books as gift options for the writers, artists, musicians, and performers in your life? In them, I compiled stories about how more than 300 brilliant minds tackled their daily work, and I do genuinely think they’re useful sourcebooks for creative people trying to figure out how to best channel their limited time and energy.
You can order them from Bookshop, Powell’s, Barnes & Noble, my publisher, Amazon (if you must), or, best of all, your local independent bookstore.
Also available: gift subscriptions to this newsletter, which, quick reminder, grant the recipient access to Worm Zoom, the Book Club, and the Group Chat, plus the full archive of 170+ back issues.
RELATED ISSUES
From the archive:
Thanks for reading! Since I already plugged paid subscriptions and my books, here’s a picture of Uno the dog trying to decide if he’d like to be friends with a marmoset (he’s leaning toward yes). See you all in two weeks for my final newsletter of 2025!
I’m going to set aside the fact that every time I see those ridiculous microphones Zane Lowe makes his guests speak into it sends me into a wild rage (LOL)
An extreme version of this is on display in WICK IS PAIN, a doc on Netflix where Keanu and the filmmakers talk about the ridiculous work that went into the John Wick films.
"Oh, that must be so fun" is the bane of every artist who sets up a booth at an arts and crafts fair to sell their wares. (Which I guarantee is often not fun). The subtext is: "must be nice not to have a real job"