Lessons I've learned from Improv, Kraftwerk and Music Writing
Or a letter to my younger self, if you must
I have recycled this old post from my brief attempt at publishing on Medium some years ago. Even though I have moved away from freelancing since the pandemic hit my self employment like an iceberg to the Titanic, I still stand by this advice.
I also wrote it before I was diagnosed with bipolar in 2019, which I think is relevant. I don’t think I was hypomanic when I wrote it though that is open to debate. Anyway, here’s the piece. I hope you like it.
Disclaimer: If what follows sounds like the ramblings of a cultish zealot, that’s fine, stop reading. As Kevin Rowland sang, ‘If these words sound corny, switch it off, I don’t care.’
In the past few years two major things have happened in my life which seem to have unlocked something long dormant in me.
One is that I pitched a music magazine a feature idea about a Kraftwerk-themed rail journey. I recreated the ‘journey’ in the electropop grandaddies’ ‘Trans Europe Express’, from Dusseldorf to Vienna and Paris.
I got the commission, did the trip, wrote the piece (‘wrote the theme tune, sang the theme tune’) and have since done regular interviews, reviews and features for this magazine. The very fine Electronic Sound.
I’d dreamed of writing for music magazines for years, ever since I was a callow adolescent, inking my fingers obsessively with the pages of the NME and Melody Maker.
Yet somehow it’d taken me several decades to actually pitch one, so this was a major landmark for me.
The other is that I started taking improv classes. I’ve recently finished my fourth consecutive improv class, with the most excellent Maydays troupe in Brighton. The last one was called the Beginner’s Guide to Musical Improv. Yes, you read that right. Musical. Improv.
My last foray into anything remotely approaching ‘musical performance’ was in the 5th year when I played the part of Kenickie in Grease. (I wussed out of singing ‘Greased Lightning’ in the end, passing the baton to the more musically confident chap playing Danny Zuko, but I enjoyed the group songs well enough.)
Flash forward a mere 29 years, and in the last two alone I’ve gone from being a shy, introverted homeworker…. to someone who’s still essentially a shy, introverted homeworker, but who has a little more determination to put myself out there, both creatively and professionally.
Does Improv Change you?
The say that improv can boost self-confidence. I’m inclined to agree, but not in any of the obvious ways you might imagine.
It doesn’t transform who you are as a person overnight, make you instantly more adept in social situations, some sparkling raconteur, or alter your personality in any major way. Or at least that’s been my experience anyway.
But is it a complete coincidence that I’ve become more sociable and more inclined to pitch for work from new outlets since I started improv? I think not.
So improv doesn’t reinvent you. Rather it creeps up on you insidiously. Perhaps it just brings out the better, braver part of you? (Gee whizz, have I really managed to hit peak Oprah already? Jolly good!)
So anyway, all this preamble is my way of introducing some things I’ve learnt along the way — and indeed am still learning and reminding myself of on a daily basis.
I thought I’d share them now, while I’m still on a wee upswing mood wise and before I lose confidence in putting this rather personal stuff out there…
Talking of which, let’s start with this.
Believe in the currency of your ideas and knowledge
Nobody has the secret answer and key to all knowledge, the Holy Grail, when it comes to freelancing, pitching story ideas etc or even life itself.
Trust your instincts over the thoughts of others, no matter how well meaning they may be
I used to have a habit of running ideas past fellow freelancers. I’ve come to realise, only recently, that this is a flawed and potentially damaging habit.
Another freelancer is *not* your potential editor or client, so don’t take their reaction to a pitch idea as gospel. ‘Trust your feelings Luke,’ as old Ben said. This applies to so many things beyond the fragile realm of freelancing of course.
Remember that as soon as you ask someone what they think about an idea, inevitably, their critical brain kicks in.
Now this might not sound like a bad thing, but think about it — they’re unconsciously looking to impart their wisdom and find fault with it in some subtle way, simply because you’ve asked them.
And this can deflate otherwise sound ideas and prevent them from winging their way off of your dusty drawing board and into print or pixels.
I do this myself. It’s human nature after all, and doubly so when you ask it of a professional writer or editor.
Just pitch that idea — #NoFilter
But a potential editor you could write that piece for might not be in *that zone* when your email happens to land in their inbox… Something in your idea just might strike a chord with them. You have no way of knowing before you send it. You can analyse pitches to death… and talk yourself out of sending them ‘until it’s good and ready.’
Ultimately you have to get these things out there. So what if the odd one makes you cringe when you re-read it? What’s the worst that can happen? You might feel a bit silly. Big deal.
How often does that fear hold us back? The chances are the editor who reads your ‘embarrassing pitch’ won’t even reply to it anyway, so you don’t even need to confront this. If a pitch falls in a wood…
This is a crucial lesson that improv has taught me. Silencing your inner critic and removing that filter is always easier said than done, but it is vital.
Keep pushing yourself out there and involve others
When it comes to hair-brained creative projects, I’ve found the key is involving other people with them. This instantly makes it feel more real, before you’ve even done much about it.
If that’s how you work best, embrace it. It’s how I work best. Feel the fear of (dread phrase incoming) ‘reaching out’ — and, yes, do it anyway!
But most of all, however you work, do something about it. Right now. And then once you’ve started, tell a few people about it too, to stay accountable. Whisper your ‘dirty little secret.’ It won’t hurt. Promise.
Don’t listen to received wisdom about ‘knowing your place’ when you’re starting out
I was told I ‘thought I was superior’ in a crappy sales job I endured years ago. Well I probably did in fairness, and perhaps I was. The same people literally laughed in my face when I asked, quite tentatively and very politely, if I might have a stab at writing some pieces for this magazine.
‘Say whaaat? You do know we can get Mr Big-Wig Industry Commentator to write for us for next to nothing don’t you, so why on earth would we take a punt on you? C’mon on, get real Jools!’
Well I got real eventually, but it took a while. Turns out I can scribble a few sentences after all. Whodafunkit? (And yes I know it’s normally spelt whodathunkit, but I prefer the funkier iteration personally.)
Keep pitching
Seriously. That’s it. There’s no magic Elvis dust here, no special sauce. That’s how writers get work. Simple as that. And also, re-read the points above.
‘Yes anding’
‘Saying yes and..’ is one of the core principles underpinning improv. It means not only being open to ideas and suggestions you’re given by your scene partner but actively building on them, adding something else to the pot that they can work with.
That’s the essence of collaboration after all, and it’s one of the reasons why improv is used as a key tool in the corporate training world.
Take all the mentoring you can get
When you find people who are willing to mentor and mould you in some way, say yes. It may not help you there and then, but years down the line it probably will.
You bank all this stuff somehow, and much like improv, it’s the cumulative effect that has a lasting impact.
When you can afford it, pay for some coaching too. This is something I’ve tried before but am having a more determined go at this time around.
See that link above for a recommendation. The chemistry has to be right of course, but it’s really worthwhile. Which leads me on to this one..
Invest in yourself and ‘level up’ when the time is right
That means taking the plunge and paying for things like web hosting and design (if you’re into digital things), and training and coaching. It also means buying apps, software and little bits of kit which help you do your job better as a writer or ‘content producer.’
Remember also that it’s mostly tax deductible too. I keep telling myself that anyway, as I watch my credit cards steadily rise and my balance transfer count steadily rise...
Know when to stop pursuing a fruitless path
Know your limits. You can’t do everything well. Choosing your path is one thing, but it’s worth knowing — and admitting — when your path hasn’t chosen you.
Here’s a great piece about a journalist who took a lengthy career break before he eventually found his true calling as a writer on metaphysics.
In my case it was things like blogging, mastering SEO, having a stab at web design etc. None of them really jived with me in the long run. And that’s fine.
At a certain point you might want to quietly retire your blog to the internet sidings and just neglect it a while. There’s no shame in that. It could just be a sign that you’ve moved on.
Embrace connectivity — both the people you meet through it and the technology which fosters it
I’ve fallen in and out of love with social media so many times. I’ve noticed a pattern though. When I’m feeling up, confident, capable, when things are going my way, I naturally feel more ‘social.’
At those times I’ll share more stuff more frequently. When I withdraw from social media, it’s a sign that I’m withdrawing from life and the world in general. Not good.
So I can force myself out of this slightly catatonic state a little sometimes by simply engaging again, replying to a few tweets, commenting on a few facebook posts — be they personal or professional on nature. It doesn’t always work, but it can trigger me in a positive way.
I’m a big believer in technology and its potentially transformative power to connect people, democratise information and generally level the playing field. And yes, get me going again. And remember, being good at social media means being social on it. There’s a reason they call it social right?
Remind yourself that you write well
Nuff said. Innit.
‘You don’t express yourself very well’, a University lecturer once told me, after I foolishly admitted that I wasn’t much enjoying the tiresome Victorian Literature course he had devised. (I’d forgotten that it was his course. Oops.)
These words have stayed with me ever since. It’s that classic thing about focussing on the few bad bits of personal feedback you get, which you carry around with you for… ooo 26 years and counting, somehow discounting all the positive stuff, which should counterbalance it, but somehow, often doesn’t.
Instead you minimise that. ‘Ahh, I just got lucky there. Anyone could’ve done that.’
Don’t do this.
Well I know if you’re anything like me that you probably will anyway, but try not to — please!
Fighting against this is a lifelong work in progress, but the struggle’s worth persisting with.
When you interview someone, it’s your job to make them look and sound good
In improv we’re told that it’s our job to make our scene partner look good. It’s the same when you’re interviewing someone for an article. It’s your job to tease out interesting thoughts, insights and anecdotes.
It’s not your job to prove to them, in the space of, say, a 30-minute skype call, that you’re worthy of their time and know enough about them and their career. You’re a professional, so they take that for granted.
Try not to gush of course and talk about yourself as little as possible. It gets in the way of the interview’s objective.
Again, this may sound really obvious, but it’s so easily done on a call, especially when you’re feeling nervous about it, as I nearly always do, and even more so if you already respect or admire your interviewee.
You’re serving your editor and ultimately their readers — not your interviewee’s ego or your own
In the ‘heat of the moment’ that is the interview process, it can be so easy to forget this. Interviews *are* tricky things to navigate, so don’t berate yourself in the inevitable pointless post-mortem you conduct if an interviewee gets a little tetchy with you.
‘Oh, maybe he didn’t like me. Even my hero doesn’t get me. Typical. Woe is me. Now where are my Red House Painters albums when I need them?’
Pah, so what? Just because you know and admire their work, it doesn’t give you some ‘special connection’ or understanding of them as a human being.
This is something which of course they cannot possibly share, since they usually know nothing about you. At least not within the confines of a 40-minute ‘phone chat anyway.
But maybe the next time you happen to cross paths, they’ll remember you if you did a good job. Maybe.
Know (broadly) what you want an interviewee to say
Naturally, your interviewee wants to push their narrative, their story, one which they may have told countless times before to dozens of journalists, but you have to pull them back to your brief.
You should already know the sort of thing you want them to tell you. That’s the real skill of the job. Making that happen without actually putting words in their mouth.
Although you hated working in sales, it gave you a useful foundation in business which has stayed with you.
So if you’re stuck in a shitty sales job you’re desperate to escape from, by all means do that when you can. And sooner rather than later. But also remember that it genuinely *is* good training for when you go freelance or run your own business.
People do buy people, whether you like it or not, so stop rolling your eyes like April Ludgate in that sales training session and acknowledge that. (And remember also that ‘coffee is for closers. Put. The coffee cup. Down.’)
Be Interested
Use it to your advantage. Every sales guru will tell you the same thing. An effective sales technique is often about asking the right questions, showing passion and taking an interest.
Be genuinely interested in people. Be likeable. Ask questions. Show them you care. And yes… be yourself.
Or as They Might Be Giants sang, ‘I’ve often been told you can only do what you know how to do well. And that’s be you. Be what you’re like. Be like yourself.’
It will stand you in good stead, no matter what line of work you pursue, but definitely when freelancing.
But also this…
There’s a reason you quit the day job to go freelance.
There’s no going back. You’re ready aren’t you? Yeah, you are.