Janet Frame received some fortunate mentoring on her rocky road to literary success

A mentor is someone who is a wise and trusted counselor. When I teach classes for blocked and procrastinating writers, I often ask the students if they have a writing mentor. Few do.

A writing mentor can serve a variety of functions including; assistance with critical feedback on manuscripts, moral support and encouragement, guidance with time management, knowledge of financial opportunities, and facilitating introductions to writers, agents and and publishers. The right mentor at the right time can make an enormous difference in a writer’s career.

I recently watched Jane Campion’s 1990 film of New Zealand author Janet Frame’s autobiography, An Angel at the Table, and was struck by the key role mentoring played in her challenging road to literary success. Her talent was noticed by key figures during her education and  after, who supported an guided her with her writing. This help was essential in making her work public, securing grants for travel and  study, and encouraging her to keep writing even through periods of intense emotional turmoil. She kept in touch with her mentors throughout her life – they were a lifeline.

Janet Frame wrote thirteen novels, an autobiographical trilogy, two books of poetry, scores of short stories, and she won numerous prestigious literary prizes. All this was accomplished during a life that  included traumatic childhood losses, a suicide attempt, a failed attempt to become a teacher, numerous psychiatric hospitalizations, and an intense emotional sensitivity that made everyday life challenges excruciating at times.

Mentors clearly made a difference in Frame’s life, and you may want to consider connecting with someone who can serve this function in your writing life, if blocks and procrastination are an issue. Taking a class or workshop, or joining a writing group are good ways to meet people who might help and inspire you. Connecting with experienced writers and starting a communication of some sort may initiate a mentorship.

There is no one way that writers find and use mentors, and we all find our own paths, but if you are stuck and can’t see how to move forward with your work, you may need input beyond your personal knowledge and resources. It will take some time and trial and error to find the right person(s), but even one good mentor can mean the difference between pursuing your writing dreams and giving up.

When you do receive input of the wrong variety, it can shatter your confidence, confuse you and stop you from working. Usually people mean well and are simply clumsy or misguided in what they say or how they say it. Even so, damage can still be done.

Your writing may also inspire reactions from others whose motives are not so innocent. Friends, family members, colleagues, mentors and significant others often have complex and ambivalent feelings about the writers in their lives, and the feedback they supply can be tainted by envy, resentments, judgments, the need to control, the need to be overly protective, unresolved past grievances unrelated to writing, etc.

If you tend to feel vulnerable about showing your work(and almost everyone does), it is crucial that you identify the proper people to help you with your writing. Not only do you need input from people who actually have something to offer, they also must be able to offer that help  in ways that are honest but not harmful. This can be tricky, because giving useful feedback generally means talking about things that need to be done better, and this implies criticism of some sort.

As a writer you need to hear reactions to your work in order to continue to improve. You need to be able to assimilate information about true weaknesses in your writing without freaking out. You also have a duty to protect yourself from well-intentioned or malevolent responses to your work that may potentially shut you down.

This may mean taking the initiative to end communications that feel wrong or damaging (see photo above). You may feel like you aren’t being “nice” to them, but they aren’t really being nice to you if they damage your motivation or confidence to write. If you consistently feel bad, angry or sick after interactions with a reader, you probably need to take them out of the feedback loop.

Find the folks who want to help you, and have something to offer. And ask for the specific help you want.

Sean Connery recovers his literary mojo after he begrudgingly helps a young writer

In the movie Finding Forrester, Sean Connery plays William Forrester, a washed-up recluse whose career as an author has collapsed after his first novel created a sensation many years earlier. Guilt, grief and disillusionment contributed to his withdrawal from society and writing at the height of his success. (Strains of J.D. Salinger‘s life are resonating here.)

Sean finds his way back to his own literary passion through a chance meeting with a talented high school student that he ends up mentoring. Long story short; he helps the kid through a tough patch and finally writes another book.

Finding Forrester is a cinematic portrayal of how helping others with their writing can be a vehicle for helping yourself. If you are in a position to help someone as they try to get going and become more productive, you may tap into your own inspiration as well.

I encourage small group discussions in my classes with blocked and procrastinating writers, because these interactions provide connections, validations, and information that end up being useful in the process of developing a more productive writing routine. Many, many people struggle with these issues, and it is a relief to discover you are not alone, and that change is possible.

You don’t have to be a genius like Forrester to help someone either. Sometimes it’s very simple. Encouragement, support, listening, sharing your experience, and offering a few tips here and there when you sense there is an openness to hear them. “Helping” has to be done with the right motivation in any case, and if you make strong recommendations to another writer who hasn’t really asked for your input, don’t be surprised if it doesn’t go well.

Forrester was very isolated during his decades-long writing drought. This is a common feature with writing blocks. If you are quite isolated, whether you become a helper or helpee may be immaterial. Find someone to connect with around your writing and see what happens.

Johnny Depp's block cure involves a significant body count

There are as many ways cure writer’s block as there are to skin a cat…… or kill people, as Johnny Depp ably demonstrates in the Stephen King inspired movie Secret Window.

As a freshly divorced, just-out-of-the-psych-ward novelist living alone in the country, Johnny finds he is now unable to write. Traumatic life events can cause such problems, and the viewer’s heart feels tugs of compassion for his plight. Initially.

As the plot unfolds, his writing remains stalled until a series of unusual events (including dog murder, plagiarism accusations, multiple personality disorder, a number of unexplained slain corpses and the gruesome demise of his ex-wife and her lover) eventually allow Johnny to heal from his divorce and write freely again. So… kind of a happy ending?

In my work as a psychologist I have assisted many struggling writers, but I have never employed the interventions that worked so well for Johnny. Perhaps I’m too conservative in my treatment modalities.

Stephen King is also responsible for writing The Shining, which similarly features a blocked writer who becomes crazy and murderous. Let’s hope that Mr. King himself never becomes blocked.

A ruthlessly honest writer fills out the writing block assessment

I like to have as complete an understanding of a person’s writing process as possible before I suggest changing anything, so I created an assessment tool for identifying problems that affect productivity. It highlights a number of issues, habits, thoughts, feelings, and other factors that are commonly associated with writing difficulties.

It is a distillation of my observations of struggling writers over the years, and its purpose is to help you target the areas of your writing process that need attention. You can find the assessment in my book, The Blocked Writer’s Book of the Dead.

I find that most writers, even those who are content with their level of productivity, will have some or several high scores on this assessment, so there is no need to get upset if you end up with a number of elevated scores. These high scores are helpful in a couple of ways: they highlight the intensity of your relationship with writing and they show you where you should apply your efforts for change.

I ask my students to pay special attention to any items that trigger emotions, immediate recognition, discomfort, confusion, or a desire to shut the book. These items point to issues that lie at the heart of their writing challenges.

There is a lot of good advice available regarding writing blocks, but unless the problems are identified specifically,  you’re left guessing which approach will work for you.

William Holden is pulled from the pool in Sunset Blvd

In his role as a struggling young screenwriter in Hollywood, William Holden in Sunset Boulevard pays heavily for giving up his craft to move in with an aged, has-been, profoundly narcissistic silent-film screen idol (Gloria Swanson).

Bill has experienced serious rejection as a writer in tinsel-town, and is eventually reduced to hiding his car from the repo man. A chance meeting with Gloria offers an opportunity for Bill to make some good cash editing her own screenplay, which she is counting on as a comeback vehicle for her moribund career.

Holden is sucked deeper into Gloria’s insanity by his own greed and becomes her kept man and lover, turning down opportunities to return to his writing and a normal relationship. When he finally decides to leave and tells the truth to Gloria about her terrible screenplay…well, you should watch it, but I can tell you Gloria is none too happy about this conversation, and Bill ends up floating face down in the pool.

I take this movie as a cautionary tale for struggling writers. Better to lose your car, miss a few meals, and stay true to your writing, than sell out for a swim in the cold, dark pool of greed.

Dissertations are often several-year projects that have no set deadlines – a reality that makes it harder to write consistently. There is typically an enormous amount of literature to review, and a then mountain of information that needs to be organized. As a graduate student you may or may not have adequate or any assistance with these aspects of the thesis. You have to do it yourself.

A graduate student is also greatly dependent on the PhD advisor, and this critical relationship can be either good or bad. When it goes off the rails, the student is vulnerable and may feel powerless and anxious. Some advisors are encouraging and know how to help students make progress and do a good job. Others are insensitive, overly critical and sometimes negligent in terms of paying attention to their students.When the advisor relationship is not working, the writing can be much harder to do, and the process can be painfully slow and drawn out.

In addition, dissertation writers are often done with classes and in the position where their work or family obligations emerge and drain time and energy from their intellectual pursuits. The dissertation becomes a lower priority, and the weeks can speed by with little or no progress. About half of all doctoral students nationally do not complete their programs. That is a shocking statistic.

Students struggling with writing blocks have trouble finding effective help. Our educational institutions need to look at this problem more directly and improve their support infrastructure so more of these talented scholars can achieve their goals. Until then, you have to figure out a way on your own. Dissertation writing support groups help, and if your advisor isn’t helpful, you might have to look for other mentors.

I’ve seen the reverse happen with several writers, who became blocked after hitting their first home run. These challenges are greater when the success comes early and fast. It’s harder to feel like you deserve it if success comes early on or without a lot of effort, and imposter feelings can emerge and sabotage attempts to keep writing. You might think: “My first article was a lucky fluke, and if I write another, I will be revealed as a fraud!” So you stop writing to avoid humiliation.

Success can also stimulate is feelings of not being worthy of the accolades the literary world is bestowing. If your self-esteem is low, praise can feel foreign and threatening. Inner voices may chime in with, “Who do you think you are! You’re not a real writer! You don’t deserve this notoriety!” or variations of this kind of brainwashing. An avoidance of writing in these cases is a way to avoid the cognitive dissonance generated by the conflict between feelings of low self worth and the reality of your capabilities.

The people in your lives might not always want you to rise up to your fullest potential.
Your success may bring up feelings of resentment and envy among family, colleagues or friends. Avoiding writing can be a way to avoid ripples in these relationships. One student recalled her father going into a rage upon hearing of her first stories getting published. She was blocked for seven years after that.

Writing is indeed a risky business as far as self-image is concerned. What was this man afraid of? The opinion of the nameless person going through his affairs who might find a first draft of a screenplay he hasn’t even written yet and have a critical thought about it?

While I have not found this “post-mortem discovery of a first draft” fear to be a common one, plenty of similar bogeyman constellations glow in the dark firmament of a blocked writer’s wordless nights. Just how nuts are our sensitive egos?

Very nuts – but do we have to get our knickers in a twist about this? It’s the human condition to feel compelled to protect and defend our sense of self (this is also the compelling substrate of much great literature, I might add). Writing is a challenge because it inevitably opens us up to the experience of receiving criticism, and we have to tolerate this onerous input to continue writing, and to develop our craft.

Sometimes our previously held view of our ‘self’ needs to die so we can grow into our next incarnation as a writer. This means taking less seriously the negative and positive ideas we cling to about ourself, especially if they limit our productivity, or our ability to go public with our work.

As writers we have to let the ego die a little. It’s uncomfortable, but the feelings pass and something better is born.

Here’s the essay, it travels an absolutely fantastic way in 15 minutes and his conclusion about ‘folk culture’ being resilient enough to outlive the civilisation collapse is spot on:

Listen HERE (BBC online, possibly UK only, sorry!)

Paul Giamatti as a self-loathing, rejected writer

Paul Giamatti beautifully portrays the ravages that manuscript rejection can inflict on an aspiring author in the movie Sideways. He has had a few near misses with his dark, ponderous novel – giving  just enough hope to perpetuate his agony. When his last-hope publisher eventually turns him down, he life careens sideways into a hellish pit of hopelessness, wine and self-hatred that creates havoc with his budding romance, car, and relationship with his best friend.

If you identify with his angst, and are living a life of unfulfilled literary dreams, you might also find it’s hard to write at times. Disappointment and disillusionment can suck the energy out of the desire to create. You think: “Why bother? Writing isn’t worth the agony. I don’t have what it takes anyway. Screw them all! Publishers are all a bunch of idiots!”

Still, it may be harder to walk away from writing than you think.

When you write, what sort of expectations of success are you bringing to the task? Where is the point where desire and ambition become a hinderance rather than a motivating factor? How much control of your self-esteem do you hand over to nameless and faceless editors at publishing houses who have a lot of things on their minds besides your book?

You may have to grow stronger to stomach the inevitability of rejection as a writer.  It’s not easy to sell a book, and often a variety of factors are involved that have nothing to do with your talent as an author. (I try to keep in mind that The Cat in the Hat was rejected by 50 publishers before Dr. Seuss hit pay dirt.)

If you are prone to being pestered by a critical, unforgiving inner voice, writing is an especially challenging road. Luckily, Giamatti makes us laugh along with the crying, and things work out a bit better by the end. After you’ve written today, pour a glass of good wine and watch the movie.

Why do we have to have an ego – this squirrely inner amalgam of thoughts, perceptions, memories, images, body parts, and who knows what else, that we refer to as “me.” Is that mess really who I am? I sure don’t know, and it consoles me that generations of philosophers far wiser than I have been a bit stumped on the question as well.

What I do know is that the inner gymnastics that writers go through trying to protect their sense of “me” can be potent writing block generators.

The question is, can you get to a place where your worries about humiliation, rejection, being ignored, or being slighted, recede into the background a teensy bit, so you can get on with the writing?

If you are a writer who puts your work out for someone else to read, you’re exhibiting courage, and strengthening your sense of self at the same time. It takes effort and guts, because both your inner world and your outer world may not be wholly supportive of your literary aspirations, and you have to find a way to persevere nonetheless.

You can remember to respect yourself for all of your abilities, and for facing the challenges inherent in the writing life. You can keep in mind that the seemingly unbearable, excruciating experiences of rejection and public humiliation won’t kill you, even if they do come true. You’ll feel like crap for a period of time, but if you don’t throw in the towel, in a while you’ll feel good enough to start that next story.

Maybe, after a long while, the real or imagined rejections will gradually seem less and less like devastating messages about “you,” and more and more like opportunities for learning how to improve your writing. If that seems like a stretch, try to imagine just getting to a place where the fear of humiliation diminishes just enough to not prevent you from writing.

I, like so many others, am guilty of giving advice to procrastinators. I’ll bet I do it again in this blog post. It is so tempting to offer “help”, and even if my motives are pure and compassionate, the odds are low that advice will change a damn thing. This is a difficult reality pill for me (a man who just wrote a book of advice) to swallow.

The primary problem with advice is that generally it is a recommendation to “do” something, and procrastination by its nature implies having a problem with “doing”. Whether the underlying feeling is rebelliousness, anxiety, overwhelm or laziness, there is a resistance to “doing” at the procrastinator’s core. And even when a choice piece of advice from a well-intentioned source appears to the procrastinator as the perfect thing to do; the comforting thought arises, “I’ll do it later.”

If you are putting some task off, your own mind is probably also spewing advice. You feel uneasy about not writing, and compelled to hector yourself with repetitive pep-talks and unrealistic commands. You may repeat these lectures to yourself for years, even if they’ve generated no appreciable improvements.  It’s what people do.

As writers we are wonderfully complicated beasts. The conflicting voices that jabber inside our psyches both fuel and obstruct our passion to write. My experience is that advice has the best chance being helpful if it is thoughtfully tailored to an individual’s unique personality, habits and life circumstances, and is not a repetition of approaches that have already failed.

My advice? Proceed with caution, and abandon failed approaches, no matter how right they appear to be. When in doubt, I just shut up, maintain optimism and try to understand.

In my book and in my workshops I ask writers to examine their early memories, good and bad, about writing. These might include interactions with parents, teachers, siblings, peers, and others. Of particular interest are those experiences where a strong message was conveyed about your capability, or how writing should or should not be done.

School experiences figure prominently here, because reading and writing are so central to success. I’ve discussed this with many talented writers who carry unnecessarily negative beliefs about their own ability because of an insensitive teacher’s harsh criticism of their writing. It can be quite devastating to be 8 years old and receive an intense blast of criticism from an authority figure, or to be told directly and indirectly that you are not a good writer. A child can easily believe that voice and incorporate it into their own inner  self-concept and internal dialogue.

While reviewing memories, make note of the ones that you can still feel a charge about – anger, fear, hopelessness, guilt, pride, confidence. Watch how and when these feelings crop up in your writing, especially if you are avoiding. If you can catch these emotional ghosts from the past in the act, you have at least a fighting chance of not being so completely controlled by them. Your strength as a writer will grow as long as you just keep writing, and call their bluff.

On the one hand, writers need people to tell them what does and doesn’t work so they can improve. There is a lot of intelligence lurking about in the outside world, and it helps the writing to tap into it. On the other hand, not everyone is skilled at giving feedback, whether it’s through their lack of understanding, poor social skills or unresolved issues with their own writing.

Everyone has a different tolerance for the criticism process, and it’s important to know what works for you, so you can limit the odds that the experience will shut you down. Choose the right reader to show your work to – someone who will have something helpful to say, and will say it in a way that doesn’t obliterate your will to write.

Proceed gradually if you are trying to get used to hearing responses to your work. Tell people exactly what type of feedback you are looking for, perhaps asking for only positive responses initially. This helps them respond in a helpful way and decreases the chances that they will give extensive, unsolicited ‘constructive criticism’ before you are ready to hear it.

Over time, a new relationship can be developed with the feedback process that allows you to tolerate more input along the way without the trauma. The goal is to get to where your focus is more on doing whatever will help the writing, and less on how to protect your ego.

I know writers who even have a name for the inner jerk who works tirelessly to undermine their confidence, self-esteem and writing productivity.  How’d these destructive creeps get into our psyche in the first place?

These loudmouth, asshole-introjects are  usually the result of intentional or accidental brainwashing that we’ve been subjected to in the past. Parents, siblings, teachers, nuns, editors, bosses significant others, or colleagues might be involved. Maybe they even thought they were trying to help, rather than curse us, but at the end of the day the impact was to give us an  acerbic inner voice that prevents us from pursuing our writing dreams.

There is no one to blame. It happens, and we have to work with this part of our psychology, however it was developed. The least we can do is have some compassion for ourselves as we attempt the challenge of writing and in this way, eventually teach ourselves that the inner jerk’s bark is worse than his or her bite, and we do not have to abandon our writing because some scary or critical thoughts have cropped up. They’re just thoughts.

A writing block saved his life

There is no simple answer to this question. There is a rich history of famous writers who have struggled with depression, and a good many other writers have less well known, but just as harrowing  stories. William Styron’s memoir, Darkness Visible, provides a gripping account of his inner struggles and near suicide. In his book, Styron recounts an incident of becoming blocked when trying to compose a suicide note. As a result he didn’t follow through with his plan, so this particular block was quite fortunate.

A normally happy writer may develop a depression during a protracated dry spell. Depression impacts energy level, concentration, memory and confidence, and can easily shut a writer down, and make the blocks worse.  Interestingly, I have seen many blocked writers report a boost in their mood when they start writing again. For some, this worked better than taking Zoloft. Writing itself can be healing, but how do you write when you can’t get yourself to write?

There are as many answers to this question as their are writers. Sometimes a depressed writer needs to seek treatment first, to even get to a place where they can begin to engage in their writing again. Sometimes the depressed blocked writer is able to take some beginning steps back into their writing, with or without treatment, and feel better as a result.

Depression is a common feature in the blocked writer’s profile. It is challenging to address, and may take time, but help is out there and many writers have found their way through the darkness and back to their work.

Occasionally the right person at the right moment says “Just do it!” in just the right tone of voice, and the struggling writer experiences an epiphany that dissolves the blockage and releases a glorious flood of pent up words into the world. Usually, however,  the writer who hears these words experiences an inner burst of shame, sadness, hopelessness and rage. When these intense emotional states become linked to the thought of writing, it becomes even more daunting for the struggling writer to face the keyboard.

The truth is, most blocked and procrastinating writers hear the Nike Intervention many times a day, echoing inside their own heads, with no resulting increase in their daily word count. Some inner aspect of the psyche rebels against being bossed around this way. Your writing block becomes a symbol of your fight against oppression by ‘the man’, even if ‘the man’ is you.

“No one tells me what to do! Not even myself!”

David Duchovny stars in the TV series, “Californication” as a blocked writer with a variety of interpersonal and emotional challenges. The first season of this series depicts a talented, successful author with impulse control issues who hasn’t written for years despite the agonized pleas of his agent, ex-lover and others. Instead of writing he spends his time drinking, screwing, getting into fights, trying to be a parent, and desperately trying to win back the affections of his ex, who is about to marry a less colorful but more stable man.

The ‘blocked writer’ is a common theme in movies and literature, and is generally a metaphor for an unresolved inner conflict that the hero must resolve before the ink flows again. In Duchovny’s case, his breakup accelerated a spiral of self-destruction, which includes abandoning his art.

The show is funny and depressing. One suspects that the script writer(s) has had some personal experience with  writing blocks.

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1 – Why Blocked Writers Need a Book of the Dead

Chapter 2 – Death is Inevitable; Writing is Not

Chapter 3 – Know Thyself

Chapter 4 – Past Lives and Write Now

Chapter 5 – The Grateful Blocked

Chapter 6 – Motivations for Writing

Chapter 7 – A Room, Womb, or Tomb of One’s Own

Chapter 8 – House Training the Writer Within

Chapter 9 – Procrastination: The Sickness Unto Deadline 

Chapter 10 – Not in Your Write Mind

Chapter 11 – Feelings

Chapter 12 The Judgment

Chapter 13 Encountering the Unknown

Chapter 14 Rebirth: Improving Writing Productivity

Chapter 15 Your Writing Productivity Improvement Plan

Appendix – The Puppy Principles

Bibliography

About the Author

Many blocked writers wonder or obsess about this question at some point or another. “Am I a real writer?” Well… what does it mean to be a real writer? There is no final answer to this question, only your own beliefs. My definition is; as soon as you write or type that first word, you are a writer.

Others believe that a ‘real’ writer is one who is published. The ‘writer’ title is conferred by an outside entity that deems your manuscript worthy. With the massive increase in online publishing and self-publishing recently, this definition really needs to be retired.

The dark musings and apprehensions that underlie the question are an interesting issue. To identify oneself as a writer is not a simple feat. Many of us have been brainwashed in our impressionable formative years to believe that ‘real’ writers possess some magical talents that we could never aspire to, or that they are a dissolute, impoverished dreamers who refuse to live a normal life.

If you think you have to already be a ‘real’ writer in order to justify our spending time doing it, you might end up with a nasty block. In the end, though, it doesn’t matter if you are a ‘real’ writer, however you define it. If you want to write, then do so.

Also this week, Stephen Sondheim is reading the Book Of The Week on Radio 4, as part of his 80th birthday celebrations. It includes a lot of fascinating stuff about lyric-writing (first episode HERE on iPlayer).

Finally, on Radio 2, in the perineum: Weds 29 Dec at 10pm, listen out for Sally Boazman: In Search Of A British Route 66. It’s a documentary about British music and roads (Sally is ‘Sally Traffic’, Radio 2′s legendary traffice and travel correspondent) – looks very interesting and I took part, talking and singing ‘M1 Song’. Worth a listen.

She moved so easily all I could think of was sunlight.

(full lyrics HERE)

Yeah I’m sure you can take this to mean simply how much he likes the look of her, still chatting at the party. But for me (ever the optimist) there’s no doubt, he’s taken her home and they’re doing the barry business. So anyway, throwing it open, do you know any great lyric lines that describe sex? Not lovey dovey or peripheral stuff (and ideally not uber-seedy R&B shite unless it’s particularly good). I’m sure there’s loads…

Anyway, I liked it partly because I love the craft of narrative storytelling in songs (obviously!) and was only aware of this aspect of Smith songs in the vaguest way, so the piece makes me need to dive back into early Fall stuff:

http://thequietus.com/articles/03925-the-fall-and-mark-e-smith-as-a-narrative-lyric-writer

The session was facilitated by course leader Rick Rogers (former Specials manager and veteran of the great days, with some incredible stories to tell and not tell). We opened with an extended interview, Rick asking me about DIY business and trying to assess the value of longevity and the homemade approach, versus the mainstream rise-and-fall, although this soon became a free-ranging discussion around a lot of issues.

Then we listened to tracks the groups of students are working on. Rick has given them a specific remit with their songwriting: to pick a playlist and compose a song for it. A clever way to encourage students to think clearly about what they are producing. The resulting songwriting was impressively high quality, across a range of genres. In particular there were a lot of alt-pop things, reflecting the current intense hybridisation of indie, mainstream pop and electro.

If there was a flaw in the students’ approach, it was a small one: that they were too flexible about the playlist, tending to suit that to the song, rather than the other way around. In several cases, even with high quality material, they got their own genres wrong, so for example a Radio 2 piece was actually more suited to an XFM playlist and vice versa. That wasn’t important though – says more about the confused state of radio playlists themselves, really. It was a fascinating session, listening to some great songs.

Since then, the groups have had to work on a video and compete to gain the most attention publicly. Where I’d made comments had mostly been arrangement suggestions, not really finding anything to improve in the core ideas. So I want to share this – a few days ago on tour, I was sent this video, of the song I thought had the most ‘hit’ potential of all, by Half Pint Joe: