A Hard Day’s Work: What the Beatles Taught Me About the Difficulty of Art
By Matthew Norman | March 21, 2022 |
Like many people around the world, I’ve been watching Peter Jackson’s documentary The Beatles: Get Back. Notice I said, “I’ve been,” as in, “I have been,” as in…well, I haven’t finished the thing yet.
Immediately upon starting the first of the documentary’s three installments, I decided that I was going to take my time with it. As easy as it’d be to succumb to my pandemic-era urge to binge straight through, I’m very much aware that this is a one-shot deal. More than fifty years have gone by since the documentary’s footage was originally filmed. Two of the Beatles are no longer with us. The two who are are 81 and 79 years old respectively. In other words: I doubt there will be a sequel.
What I have seen so far, though, has been incredible. Full disclosure: my love for the Beatles is endless. Their portraits from the White Album hang over my desk as I write this, I named my late corgi Ringo, and my fourth novel, All Together Now, was inspired by one of their songs. So, please indulge me for a moment as I speak strictly as a fan.
BLATHERING ABOUT THE BEATLES
Seeing them together at the height of their powers—the footage treated and restored to HD quality—has been a surprisingly emotional experience, like what I imagine traveling back in time and visiting younger versions of loved ones would feel like. As culturally significant as I know the Beatles to be, the documentary also shows them as funny and silly and easily distracted, particularly Ringo. John was constantly late to work, but charmingly so. George seemed to be in a perpetual state of vulnerability, not quite sure where he fit in. And for Paul, the task of being the de facto “boss” of the Beatles weighed heavily. I also appreciated the warmth on display between Yoko Ono and Linda McCartney. As the two women huddled together laughing while the band jammed out in the background, I found that I had to take a few deep breaths.
“Daddy, are you crying?” my daughter asked.
“What? No. Well, maybe a little.”
BLATHERING ABOUT WRITING
Speaking now as a writer, The Beatles: Get Back offers a startlingly raw behind-the-scenes look at the slow, emotionally painful process of creating art. In one scene, George, clearly nervous, asks Paul if he’d like to hear a song that he wrote the night before. George then sits and plays a rough, acoustic version of “I Me Mine.” (Yes, I got chills.) In another scene, after many, many failures to launch, the song “Let It Be” finally takes flight. It begins with Paul at the piano. The other three look on, fiddling with their instruments. And then the energy shifts in the room, and we watch as John, Paul, George, and Ringo work together furiously to hold one of the most famous songs of the Twentieth Century together. (And, yes, I may have cried a little again.)
I was struck by both moments, because they illustrate something that I’d never really thought about as it pertains to the Beatles. Even for them—perhaps especially for them—the work was really hard.
CREATING ART IS DIFFICULT
That may be the most obvious subhead I’ve ever written, but it’s something that needs to be stated—and stated often. One of the biggest mistakes writers make is assuming that good writing is somehow effortless. We look at the most brilliant books, stories, essays, and articles in the marketplace and assume that they were always brilliant—that they flowed directly from the smiling writer’s brain onto the page in a painless, unbroken stream of award-worthy prose. This kind of thinking, like Impostor Syndrome, is dangerous because it causes us to equate difficulty with failure—or, worse, with lack of ability.
How many times have you been deep into the struggle with a piece of writing and thought, “If this were really any good, wouldn’t it be easier?” I know I have. Hell, I’ve asked myself that question twice while writing this post. (I had trouble transitioning from blathering about the Beatles to blathering about writing. It felt clunky, and I considered ditching the whole thing.)
We’ve largely accepted, as a civilized society, that the Beatles were brilliant. Since we’re all book people here, though, and to make this more personal, think about a few of your all-time favorite books. Your desert island books. The ones you take off the shelf sometimes just so you can hold them.
At some point during their creation, all the books you’re thinking about right now were an absolute disaster. Seriously. All of them. A beginning didn’t work. An end didn’t make sense. One of the authors, for no good reason, kept switching tenses. A middle meandered and sagged into unreadability. There were dumb grammatical errors and typos galore. A now-beloved side character lacked dimension. A printer ran out of ink and was thrown down a flight of stairs. Somehow, though, all the authors in question prevailed. Here are some tips for how you can, too.
- Embrace The Struggle. Accepting that writing is hard will give you the strength to be kinder to yourself when you struggle. Let’s be honest, a little good old-fashioned self-loathing is part of the artistic process, but don’t allow yourself to be stymied by it. And never forget that at some point the most brilliant writer you can think of curled into a ball on his, her, or their floor and thought, “What if I’m not cut out for this?” Writing is hard. You should be proud of yours for even trying.
- Trust Your Ability. You probably didn’t sit down at your computer today and say, “You know what? I’m gonna give this writing thing a try.” You’ve devoted a good portion of your life to this pursuit, and you’re good at it. Sure, your current work-in-progress has some problems, particularly if you’re still in the early stages of its creation. But that’s okay. Because the work you’re doing now, flawed as it may be, will lead to something great. Remember, “Let It Be” started with Paul tapping out notes on his piano and wondering if they sounded nice.
- Follow and Share in the Struggle. Net-net, I don’t know if social media has been good or bad for the world—probably a lot of both. For writers, though, it’s a great way to feel connected to a community of people who are struggling with the same issues you are. Follow and like as many writers as you can, even writers whose work you haven’t read. When not specifically promoting their books—which is basically a professional obligation now—many writers are very forthcoming about the challenges they face. Bonus: it’s also a great way to see cute dog and cat pictures.
- Keep Going. No, don’t stop. Just because it’s difficult doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong. More likely, the fact that it’s so hard means you’re doing it exactly right. You’re challenging yourself. You’re pushing your characters and your own ability. You’re creating something out of nothing. And that kind of thing? Well, as Ringo sang a few years after the Beatles broke up…“It don’t come easy.”
What’s the most difficult thing you’ve ever written, and how did you get through it? Conversely, have you ever written something that was oddly not difficult? What do you think made it easier? Do you ever look to non-prose artists for guidance and motivation? If so, do tell.
Matthew Norman is the author of five novels. His latest, Charm City Rocks, is out now from Dell. His debut novel, Domestic Violets, was nominated in the Best Humor Category at the 2011 Goodreads Choice Awards, and his second novel, We’re All Damaged, was an Amazon bestseller. His upcoming novel, Grace & Henry’s Holiday Movie Marathon, will be out in October. He lives with his wife and two daughters in Baltimore and holds an MFA from George Mason University.
Hey Matthew, You’ve got me wondering just how many people have been inspired by the Beatles. It’s a broad, vague, and unanswerable question, but I think about me as a boy. I used to sneak into my older sister’s bedroom, not just to listen to the Sergeant Pepper’s album, but to engage with it. It was total immersion, holding the cover, studying the iconic photos and printed lyrics. This was not long before I learned to immerse myself in fiction, and I feel like their artistry and wordplay nudged me along that path.
You allude to what I found most startling about Get Back: they were surprisingly tentative, relatively uncertain and still unassuming. Amazing to think how they continue to expand that number, of the unknowable masses of humanity who were inspired by these four friends who came together to make art. Fun and thoughtful essay. Thanks.
Hey, Vaughn. Thanks. As much as I love fiction, if I had to guess I’d say I’ve been more directly inspired by music over the years. Maybe it’s because I don’t actually know how to make music. I just get to enjoy it without having to obsess over the nuts and bolts. If you’ve never listened to the band Wilco, I highly recommend their work. -MN
Very familiar with Wilco, and I see why you recommend them–the wordplay brings the immersion. In fact, Jeff Tweedy is a neighbor of sorts (lives a mile or two down the Lake Michigan coast from me). I’m with you–here’s to the inspiration of musicians and song. We have our work, but we owe them for theirs.
Nice. Yeah, as I was recommending Wilco to you last night, I was thinking, “I bet this dude already knows them.” Great band. -MN
I grew up with the Beatles so their music was a kind of a soundtrack for my life. I love your point here about not falling into the trap of thinking the work came easily to our creative heroes. I’ve re-read Humphrey Carpenter’s biography of Tolkien three times to remind myself that behind and underneath the books that blew my mind (and still do) was a long and convoluted journey. I’m wrapping up a revision based on agent feedback which has required me to think and write at a level I wasn’t working at before. I got a whole new bunch of conversations with the Resistance, but also a boatload of new skills. Your post today made me feel proud to be a writer.
Hey, Susan. I love that. I’m proud to be a writer, too. What wonderful weirdos we get to be. -MN
The Beatles. I was quite little and we were living in Vermont at the time. I remember sitting with my much older sister in front of the television as they landed at the airport in New York. People don’t realize, or have forgotten, how hard they worked just to become the The Beatles. The Cavern. Trips to Hamburg where they played for hours on end. They weren’t even the Fab Four we’ve come to know then. Yes, Ringo was the well known late arrival, but there were others in the band. Poor Ringo, the much maligned drummer who’s grossly under appreciated. Always Ringo, he could be chameleon-like in his drumming, taking on whatever style the others needed. Listen to “Tomorrow Never Knows” or “A Day in the Life” and tell me he didn’t know what he was doing.
He was also responsible for the title, “A Hard Day’s Night.”
They all taught me a lot about creation, to take it as it comes and appreciate it. They also taught me a lot about always pushing yourself to innovate. After all, they were the band that evolved from “Please Please Me” to “Abbey Road.” They’re a lot of the reason I don’t view editing as fixing, but improving. It’s a small difference in mindset that makes a huge difference, not just for the story, but my attitude.
That difference in attitude is why I don’t become frustrated when the process is different with each book. In August 2019, I created a spread in my journal called, “Stories: What’s Important to Me.” I expected to list a dozen ideas. There are over forty. The reason there were so many was because, once I started, they flowed from my heart. Months later, they flowed into the easiest story I’ve ever drafted, “Protecting the Pneuma Key.” The next year, I was preparing to write the sequel to a different book, but ditched that for an amazing idea linked to “Pnuema Key.” On September 25, 2020, in the midst of the worst of the pandemic locally, my computer crashed. My book planning became me improvising. I huddled on the couch with pages strewn, my ancient laptop at my side. It was hard fought, but “Case of the Deadly Stroll” became a beloved mystery. It goes like that and I roll with it, delighting in where creativity leads me instead of grumbling about how a rigid system isn’t working the way it’s supposed to. The Beatles were about evolving and I try to follow that example.
Hey, Christina. OMG, yes…I have so much love for Ringo. Bless him! I also love his playing on Lucy In the Sky…that big drum sound before the chorus. Boom Boom Boom, “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds!” Chills every time. He’s actually performing in Baltimore this summer, and my wife and I will be in the fifth row! -MN
Such a great post and exactly what I needed today. It’s so hard to remember that some of the most-loved books in the world didn’t spring from the author’s mind like Athena, but were created in a long, laborious, and frustrating process over years. A useful thought on a Monday, thank you.
Hey, Liz. Thanks. Podcast idea. A host invites brilliant writers to come on and detail how big of a pain in the ass their most famous books were to actually write. I’d listen to that. -MN
Oh, my goodness, you’re getting me right in the heart today. Watching the Get Back doc WAS like going back in time and meeting old, dear friends. I worshipped the Beatles as a kid, played their music, read about them, belonged to the DC fan club until they broke up. Watching the documentary was emotional on many levels.
Your piece hit the nail on the head—the band was working and struggling (and goofing off, as one must). Thank you for using that as a mirror to my writing. I have been laboring with a story that wants to go in a different direction than I’d planned. I keep breaking off, wondering how I can get it to go where I need it to go. Only it may never want to go there! I must accept that new events have occurred and follow them thru, which likely means junking the preconceived story in my head. Resistance makes it harder.
Hi, Leslie. Yeah, resistance definitely makes it harder. I think editors and trusted early readers are great for helping us see what needs to/should happen with our work. Good luck with the story! -MN
The most difficult thing I have ever written is always the previous scene in the WIP, which is a single mainstream trilogy I’ve already poured over twenty years of my life into. I’m barely managing that and have to rely on a written detailed process I’ve created over the years to make it possible. Possible, not easy.
Chronic illness gives me very little functional time every day, but writing gives me something worthwhile out of my time. Writing is like owning a dragon: it costs you ALL kinds of things, but hey – you have a dragon!
Hi, Alicia. Wow, that dragon line is fantastic. I’m definitely going to quote you on that. It’s perfect. -MN
Let me know if you do – I liked that one, too.
I loved the Get Back documentary, and got something very similar out of it, Matthew. It was eye-opening and motivating to see how hard they had to work to create a 2-3 minute song. They were brilliant and often inspired, but it still took work to produce and polish a finished piece. So many revisions! I also felt a much stronger connection to the artists and their music after watching them for hours on end. It all felt very personal, especially once they seemed to forget about the cameras and got playful. Thanks for the reminder!
Hi, Gwen. You’re welcome. If you’re interested, check out the Anthology release they put out in the 90s, and some of the 50th anniversary box sets that have been released recently. They include early and alt versions of some of their most famous songs. So eye-opening to listen to what stuff sounded like BEFORE it was perfect.
I still love the Beatles. THE BEATLES The Biography by Bob Spitz is the best book I’ve read about the Fabs. It is comprehensive, difficult at times to imagine, and 1 3/4 inches of paperback (thinking at this minute Paperback Writer) history. I found it hard to put down. This had to be a hard book to write. Writing is hard, and this book is huge. Read it. They were the real thing. I’m glad I got to “know” them as a teen. I really should read this book again. And edit the ones i’ve written — if writing is hard, editing is REALLY hard. Thanx for this article. It meant a lot on various levels.
Thanks for the recommendation, Alice. I’ll check it out. I really liked THE BEATLES LYRICS by Hunter Davies. Really informative as it talks about inspiration for and meaning behind every song. It also includes pics of a lot of handwritten lyrics and notes. Fascinating. They had terrible handwriting. Ha. -MN
Loved this piece, Matthew. I discovered the Beatles after I came to the US, 20 yrs later than a lot of people, and loved their music so very much. I took a guitar class in college and played Eight Days a Week for my final :) We’ve been watching a lot of documentaries of bands that my husband loved growing up and as in all the creative arts, you see the struggle and the persistence, and the absolute necessity of the creative work! It’s what brings the joy, what we’re made for. So inspiring, as is your essay. I’ve had a tough couple of weeks with not much to show for so I begin anew this week with your words to not be so hard on myself. Thank you.
I’ve had stories that practically wrote themselves and others that needed a lot of time to grow and at times frustrated me, yet these difficult stories compel me to keep at them. I wish I knew how to make the process easier. Onwards!
Thanks, Vijaya. I was born 7 years after they broke up, so I had to discover them after the fact, too. I’m always jealous of people who got to experience them in real time. They were so lucky! -MN
Hurry up and watch the whole thing. Be aware that you might feel a bit down after Episode #2, wondering how they will pull back together, despite knowing that they do. Then watch it again, and maybe even a third time. You will see and learn more each time. It is truly a master class in commitment, the creative process, and collaboration.
Thanks, Leslie. Will do! -MN
I loved that documentary. I learned so much, as a creative, watching it. Seeing them take the mere snippets of a song and working it into a classic was inspiring. We see them working hard, but also allowing for intuition. At one point Paul tells George to make the words up, say anything, as a placeholder, because anything can be changed later. Seeing the song Get Back change from literally nothing to what it is, was that advice in motion.
That brought home that it’s a fact that until the final draft, writers work with the unknown. There’s no reason to be afraid of it. You just keep working on the parts you know how to define. Eventually, you’ll get back to those placeholders. Sometimes, at that point, they even make sense.
Hi, Ada. Yes! I loved that scene where George was struggling with “Something,” and John was so casual in saying…”Just say anything.” Perfect. That’s a great example of not letting yourself get hung up by imperfection. Just write it and keep working on it. Make it perfect later. -MN
You have to love something, you know? The Beatles loved music. Loved each other, too, at least most of the time, and even at the end. Peter Jackson, who edited the doc, loved the Beatles, and loved his other masterpiece, too, The Lord of the Rings. (Let’s not talk about The Hobbit.) Maybe there’s an element of obsession to excellence–at least for some–and maybe it’s because obsession wears a brain down over time that those excellent creations are limited or cease all together after a while. (And maybe that’s why Peter Jackson didn’t want to direct The Hobbit, and when he kind of got cornered into it anyway, the end result disappointed a lot of people.) According to a Guardian article, “Peter Jackson spent four years editing down 60 hours of unseen footage” for Get Back.
That’s commitment. Love. And, I’d bet, an obsession to make something as pure and perfect as possible. Mission accomplished.
I hadn’t meant to pull in a Beatles lyric, but this one seems apt:
It’s gonna take time
A whole lot of precious time
It’s gonna take patience and time
To do it, to do it, to do it, to do it, to do it
To do it right, child
Right?! It’s totally about love. The writing, the work, the characters. You gotta go all in. -MN
The creative process seems such a mystery some times. Of course, as your post illustrates, you have to roll up your sleeves and do the work. And then do it again. And again. But after, some artists don’t have a clue about what they’ve done, genius or dullness. Steinbeck kept a journal while writing Grapes of Wrath and said, “This book has become a misery to me because of my inadequacy,” along with other entries with the same sense.
I loved The Beatles. I hand-wrote several newsletters about them (and if you know my handwriting, you know it can be used as a weapon), had it copied, and sold it on the big street corner near my house for .25. Some victims even paid me.
We made guitars out of wood (with rubber band strings, a drum set of cardboard and had a record player blaring Beatles songs in the background of my garage, having invited the neighborhood kids over for concerts. Record-company execs: you missed the opportunity of a lifetime.
I even traded a high-end Army set (with exploding bridges) for a Beatle wig, and felt I got the upper hand. Have to see the documentary. Thanks for a fun post.
Tom, those hand-written newsletters…omg, how great would it be to read them now? My mom had hundreds of Beatles cards when she was young. She explained to me that they were kind of like baseball cards. But when she was a teenager, her brother (my uncle) dropped them in a bucket of water. That bastard! Definitely check out the doc. You’ll love it. -MN
Mathew, it’s late, I am just reading your post now, all the comments and loving it. The Beatles, their songs are truly the backdrop of my life with my brothers, and my son, and we’ve been able to watch parts of GET BACK together. When John was assassinated my younger brother, who works in the music business, was crushed. Dec. 8th, I believe it was. THE LONG AND WINDING ROAD always makes me cry. There is beauty, fun, positive commentary, joking–it’s all there in their work. As well as the friendships that helped them work together. Fiction writing is a lonelier medium, but WU helps us deal with that. Thanks again, Beth
Thanks, Beth. You’re right. Our fellow writers are our bandmates! Not bad at all. -MN
Loved this
Hey, Maeve. Thanks!