I was up in my mum's attic a few months back and I found a load of my old writing. Novels, TV scripts, comic book scripts... all things I wrote before I owned a PC, so I guess it dates back to the late 80s and early 90s. Everything I've written since getting a computer has been saved on memory sticks and external hard-drives, but back then all I had was a crappy word-processor with a tiny screen that used an early form of floppy discs to save my work. (Prior to that, I wrote on a huge, clunky old typewriter... those really were the glory days.)
I've been scanning these old texts (many of which are not very good at all, though they still mean a lot to me) so that I can keep them digitally - I haven't got room for all this mouldering old paper that's been stuck up in an attic for 30+ years... but I wouldn't want to throw any of it away without preserving it somehow.
This process has reconfirmed for me the fact that writing has always been something I've used for Self Help (therapy!): to help me work out my feelings, deal with life experiences, try to make sense of the big mystery.
Back when I spent hours and days and weeks of my teenage and twenty-something life writing all this fiction, I told myself the goal was to be published (or produced)... the mental health benefits I received by putting my words down on paper were an unwitting bonus. I didn't realise how much writing was helping me, but clearly it was - everything I wrote had my own thoughts, feelings and life experiences as its core (no matter how fantastical other elements of the plot might have been), and the sheer amount of time I spent on it speaks for itself.
Writing can be a self-care method for many; helping to unwind and de-stress.
Writing about difficult situations can help us release our feelings in a healthy way. In a study conducted by psychologist James Pennebaker, researchers encouraged individuals to write about their darkest emotions and thoughts regarding a terrible incident. The findings revealed that individuals who wrote about their encounters had considerably fewer physical problems, such as migraines and gastrointestinal issues than those who did not write at all.
This makes me wonder what might have happened if I hadn't spent so much of my youth writing. Would I have been significantly more depressed? Would in turn that have led to physical symptoms? Or... might I have spent more time with friends, trying to build more of a social life and immerse myself in the tribe? Would I have pinged off on a different tangent altogether?
Creative writing forces you to arrange your ideas and put them into words. This can assist you in putting things into perspective and making better judgments. Writing also assists you in becoming more conscious of your own ideas and emotions.
It's worth pointing out that while I was doing all this writing, I wasn't a complete hermit. I did have friends and a facsimile of a social life - just not as wild/busy/varied as many teens and twenty-somethings enjoy. I even stumbled into a couple of romantic relationships. I fit the writing around all that. But I definitely lived in my head - and on my pages - far more than the average bear.
Some may also use creative writing as a way of connecting with others. Sharing tales and perspectives while also learning from, and supporting one another.
Back when I spent so much of my life writing those stories, they were rarely read by anyone else. Occasionally I'd submit one as part of my English degree (the tutors weren't my biggest fans) and one or two other people might have read something I wrote.
And then there were all the agents, publishers and production companies I collected rejection letters from. But I'm not sure they count - clearly they didn't read my submissions in the correct way, otherwise I'd be talking to you while sitting on a huge pile of cash right now.
(That was a joke, by the way. Even when I was an aspiring writer, I was aware that published writers often don't make a lot of money. That never stopped me, so clearly financial reward wasn't high up my list of aspirations. I just wanted to earn enough that I could keep on writing, and make it my life.)
The exception to the "Nobody reads my writing, but I keep on doing it anyway" rule that I lived by back then were the small press comics I put out. These did have a readership, and a particularly vocal one too. I had about 30, 40 regular readers from all across the country, having made a name for myself in the small pond of amateur comics and used the limited outlets available for self-promotion in the pre-internet days to the best of my abilities.
Many of these readers would provide written feedback - I use the term "fanmail" very loosely, but a few folders of glowing handwritten correspondence was among the treasures I discovered in my mum's attic. I even ran a letters page in my most successful book,The Jock, and this would often run to 5 or 6 pages of tiny-typed feedback and discussion. By contrast, when I returned to making small press comics in the new Millennium, though the internet made it far easier to promote your wares and the print quality was far superior to the grainy black and white photocopies of the 90s, I hardly received any written feedback on my work. I sold more copies, but hardly anybody had anything to say about what they'd read - even though an email would have taken far less effort than posting a handwritten letter... such is the world we live in now.
Back to the University of Bolton for one final word about the mental health benefits of writing...
It can make you feel better about yourself as it allows people to see what's going on within your thoughts. You may even earn praise from friends and family after sharing anything you've produced with them. If you don't share your writing, then writing about yourself and the events in your life provides an artistic outlet to express your thoughts without fear of criticism from others. Writing about yourself allows you to ponder on who you are as a person and how much importance each human being has.
And this is where we have to take a step back, to last week's post, and the week before's. Remember our old friend Tiberius? Remember how worried he was about other people's opinions? Remember how we discussed "externalising his self-worth", how Tiberius received a tiny little feel-good dopamine hit every time someone smiled at him or complimented him on his work? Remember that article from the Harvard Business Review that advised Tiberius to Stop Basing Your Self-Worth on Other People’s Opinions? Well, here's a little more from that...
Externalizing our self-worth, when it works, can yield short-term benefits. We get emotionally and chemically rewarded when we succeed. Our hypothalamus produces dopamine, often referred to as the feel-good neurotransmitter. Our self-esteem gets lifted, leaving us feeling safe, secure, and superior.
But dependency on external validation and social approval has a dark alter ego that reveals itself over time because outsourcing our self-worth undermines the basic human needs of competence, autonomy, and relatedness.
If, as a writer, you live for your readers' responses, that way lies madness. Because what if they don't like what you've written? I was lucky back in my small press comic days, because almost all the letters I received were positive or at least offered constructive criticism. The folk who didn't like my writing, frankly, couldn't be bothered to go to the trouble and expense of mailing me a kicking. Meanwhile, the rejection letters I received from publishers and agents... while every one of them was a heartbreaking kick in the balls... most went out of their way to be bland, neutral, faintly encouraging and inoffensive.
Nowadays, the only writing I have the time, energy or inclination for is this nonsense right here. I still get all the mental health benefits mentioned above, along with the added dopamine hits of a tiny group of discerning readers who occasionally drop me a kind word in the comment's section. But if I was in a small pond when I was self-publishing comics, I'm in a miniscule lagoon right now... though it's a relatively safe and warm lagoon, compared to the vicious, unforgiving ocean of the internet at large. Many people - especially young people - are living their whole lives on the cruel seas of social media, desperate for a bright wave of dopamine, but ever too often pulled down into the murky depths of... well, you get the picture. I extended that metaphor much further than I intended to. Hack writing.
When SHFC returns after its Easter break, we will finally confront THE MENTAL HEALTH TIME-BOMB of Social Media. Be afraid. Be very afraid.
Because my inside is outside My right side's on the left side 'Cause I'm writing to reach you now But I might never reach you Only want to teach you, about you
(I put this together pretty quickly last night, as soon as I heard the news. Most of the songs are the obvious choices. I may have to do another ten some time to prove just how much we've lost.)
Apparently one of the first signs of male pattern baldness is kinks in the hair.
There was almost a very big clue in the photo, which I had to edit out before posting this yesterday. (Check the drumkit.)
Abba featured last week, so it was Ray had to take the top spot. (Also, this song is actually about the station, rather than the place where Napoleon fell.)
The Kinks - Waterloo Sunset
I won't be Cruella... Snapshots will be back next Saturday.
Some time ago (back in March 2018) I started a new series on the blog called Anyone Can't Play Guitar, which was supposed to be an ongoing tribute to my favourite guitar solos. There was only ever one post. I may argue because it couldn't be beaten... although I did intend to follow it with a post about Richard Thompson, the best guitarist I ever saw play live.
The baton may be very dusty, but Rigid Digit just picked it up and ran with it...
RIGID DIGIT’S TOP 10 GUITAR SOLOS THAT DON’T SEEM TO MAKE
THE USUAL BEST OF ALL-TIME LISTS:
Not those 9,473 notes a minute shredding solos so beloved of
poodle-haired rockers who believe Eddie Van Halen is God.
These are (in my mind) perfectly captured moments of musical
brilliance using 6 steel strings and a plank of wood.
And these – brilliant though they are – rarely get the
plaudits they deserve.
This song, like many other Walker Brothers tracks is
dominated by Scott Walker’s moody baritone.
The arrangement and that vocal would usually be enough, but then the solo
arrives and takes the track to another level.
The internet, not always the most reliable of places, cites many options for
the provider of this solo, including Big Jim Sullivan, Jeff Skunk Baxter (later
of Steely Dan), and John Walker- who
was actually a Walker Brother, but what are the chance of a member of a 60s
band actually playing on their own song?
Popular opinion suggests the widdling was by Alan Parker -late of Blue Mink,
and whose guitar work was heard once a week for nigh on 10 years as a member of
CCS who did the “Whole Lotta Love” version that introduced Top Of The Pops
Mick Taylor joined The Stones in 1969 replacing Brian Jones,
and within a month had provided overdubs and guitars for ‘Let It Bleed’ and was
sitting at Number One with “Honky Tonk Women”.
Taylor’s musical chops were never in doubt – he was a member of the Blues
Guitarists' finishing school (John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers) at 16, and is a key
player on the Stones ‘Sticky Fingers’ album.
“Sway” from that album ranks as a high point, but the solo on the album version
of “Dead Flowers”, great though it is, falls just short.Not when played Live however (as seen here) –
Mick Taylor is effectively soloing all the way through the song.It’s cool, laid-back, laconic even, but fills
every gap required to be filled.
With Brian Jones, they were the second greatest pop singles band in the
UK.With Mick Taylor, they were
(probably) the greatest Live Rock n Roll Band standing on a stage.
Hereford may not be the Rock n Roll Capital of the World,
but it did provide half of Mott The Hoople, and three quarters of The
Pretenders.And it was one of those
Pretenders with a blond mane and a Mott The Hoople and Cream fixation that came
up with (on the spot in the studio) this sublime solo which elevates the song
to one of the finest in The Pretenders catalogue.
James Honeyman-Scott died in mid 1982 leaving a legacy of two very good albums
with The Pretenders, containing his intricate guitar work.We will never know if “Kid” was a one-off, or
would there have been more to come?
How many notes does a guitar solo actually need?More than two is surely just an extravagance.
Pete Shelly obviously thought so, providing a bare-bones “cheeky two note
solo”.Any more than that would surely
just inspire boredom in the listener.
Lifted from their first EP, which is held as the first independent single, and
the last Buzzcocks outing before Howard Devoto parted for the more progressive
sounding Magazine (almost denouncing Punk, and inventing Post Punk before Punk
had even got going).Post-Devoto,
Buzzcocks went on to release a string of the finest singles of 1978/79.
Although this may be unfair to Dan members in the early
days, the band was basically Donald Fagen and Walter Becker, plus a supporting
cast.The parent album (‘Can’t Buy A
Thrill’) did feature guitarists Jeff "Skunk" Baxter and Denny Dias as
full time members, but the guitar work on this was supplied by session
guitarist Elliot Randall – a man who has been offered many full time band
positions (The Blues Brothers and Toto to name two) but turned them down to
remain a gun for hire.And with this on
your CV, the work may not be thin on the ground.
(I refer the honourable gentleman back to a previous post on this very blog. - Rol.)
When this track is played on the radio, it always seems to
cut before the solo starts – a real shame that.The solo is an integral part of the song and provides the perfect coda.
Not, as often believed, played by Dave Gilmour (although Gilmour was a key
figure in Kate Bush’s signing to EMI), but supplied by a session guitarist (and
Kate’s now full time band member) who’d previously appeared on Bay City Rollers
records, and would later play with Bucks Fizz.
A sublime solo providing counterpoint to Peter Perret’s
weathered and withered vocals.
John Perry delivers another solo almost the equal on “The Beast” (from the same
debut album), but in the context of this song it lifts it to another level.
They may only be truly known for this one song, but it’s not a bad legacy, is it?
Who said Punk and New Wave should have no guitar solos or standout
musicianship?
Guitar solos usually pop up about 2/3 through the song –
either just after the middle eight, or just after the second chorus.
Not this one – Glen just can’t wait to get it out – one verse and chorus, and
let it out.Oddly placed perhaps (55
seconds in), but lets the song grow and tell the story whilst you’re still
marvelling at the musical dexterity.No
screaming notes, fretboard divebombs, just pure understated brilliance.
See also “Some Fantastic Place” for another example of Tilbrook’s fretboard
dexterity
Think of “Baker Street” and the stand-out memory has to be
the saxophone (not played by Bob Holness, but a great urban myth
nonetheless).But vying for attention is
the minimal, almost-skeletal, understated, yet oh so powerful guitar solo.It’s played so cleanly it could almost be a
squealing Hank Marvin meets Mark Knopfler affair.It is also (apparently) a big influence on
Slash and the basis of the solo in ”Sweet Child O’ Mine”, and once you know
that you can, sort of, hear it.
1. Goodbye To Love – Carpenters (Tony Peluso)
I’m not a fan of the MOR stylings of this lot, and I’m not
going to call this a Guilty Pleasure, but that fuzzed-up Guitar solo is a mighty
fine thing.
He plays it straight first time round (still fuzzed, but basically the melody
line), and then later gives it a bit of welly.
Tony Peluso may not have done anything as notable before or since, but surely
he could dine out on this one solo forever.
And (snobbily?) if it wasn’t for the fact it was for The
Carpenters, this solo would sit alongside the work of Jimmy Page, Eric Clapton,
and (the sainted?) Eddie Van Halen in the list of All-Time Great Widdly Bits.
I've got to hand it to you, RD, that was one fine collection of tunes. Particularly that live version of Dead Flowers. Excellent stuff. I wonder if anyone can beat that...?
