the blue collar composer

My Dearest Tortured Composer,

Today I write you with a saucy composing lesson.

It comes from an interview with two of the world's most popular authors.

Authors that are well known, and yet that many people hate.

I'm talking about George RR Martin and Stephen King.

Martin asks King how he does it. How is Stephen King able to finish so many novels…

While George RR Martin has been stuck on the same book for years?

King's answer is simple:

"I try to get six pages a day, fairly clean. If the manuscript is 360 pages long, that's basically two months work."

Now some might argue that George RR Martin is doing something different. That using as many characters as he does creates an artificial sense of complexity and depth that makes it impossible to ever reach a satisfying conclusion.

A way of creating tension that never resolves but keeps people reading and watching. That it’s a cheap trick to get views without being able to deliver on promises.

Some might say that.

But that's also irrelevant.

Because elsewhere, King put it even more bluntly:

"Amateurs sit and wait for inspiration. The rest of us just get up and go to work."

You see, many of the world's great artists, creatives, and composers had habits just like Stephen King's.

They didn't wait for mystical inspiration to strike. They just sat down and wrote every day. Didn't matter if they felt like it. It was almost a blue collar approach.

John Williams is said to have written a minute of music every single day. I could keep listing other big names that did similar, but I’ll spare you the time.

Many composers I speak with only write when they feel inspired.

When the muses are crying out to them from afar. I don't think this is the best way to do it.

Because here's what I've noticed:

Many times, when you sit down and really don't feel like writing, you push through 15 minutes and then inspiration strikes.

Inspiration comes after you sit down to write. Not before.

It’s like the muses are looking above and think “Oh wow, he finally sat down to write some music, let’s drop him a sweet little idea for a piece he’ll love.”

There's also an interesting reason why routine works that goes beyond simple discipline.

When you have no system, your brain switches into perfectionist mode.

Infinite possibilities overwhelm it.

No idea seems good enough. Nothing stands out.

You think you're mediocre and should have been a plumber (frankly sweetheart, maybe you should’ve been).

But when you give yourself a constraint, say thirty minutes at the piano every morning:

Your brain stops asking "what's the best possible idea?" and starts asking "how do I get this done?"

I spoke to composer Samuel Andreyev and he called it a "creative metabolism."

If you eat breakfast every day at 7am, your body starts getting hungry at 7am.

If you make music every morning at 7am, you'll start getting hungry to make music at 7am.

Try it for a few days if you've been waiting for inspiration to strike. Sit down for 30 minutes first thing in the morning and just let some music flow out.

I tend to find that much of the music I like, I don't like when I'm writing it. But when I come back days, weeks, or months later:

I end up loving it.

The mystery of creating, I ‘spose.

So don't get discouraged if you're writing something and don't think it's any good. Just keep going. Consistently.

You might be surprised what happens.

And remember...

The world waits for your music…

-Luke

At Tortured Composer's Society, it's our mission to create and provide a community that helps you live a more creative and fulfilling life as a composer. When Tortured Composer's Society was established in 1685 (or thereabouts), we wanted to make the community an inclusive, welcoming table where everyone can come to overcome their creative blocks and thrive as composers.

We believe that every composer, from the bedroom producer to the concert hall maven, deserves a place to explore their craft without judgment. Our community understands the unique challenges of staring at blank manuscript paper at 3 AM, the peculiar torture of hearing a melody in your head that refuses to translate to the page, and the specific type of existential crisis that comes from comparing your work to Bach's while eating cold pizza in your pajamas.

We will always aim to get better at what we do every single day. This means constantly refining our understanding of what makes composers tick, what makes them stuck, and what makes them suddenly breakthrough at the most unexpected moments. We study the patterns of creativity, the psychology of artistic blocks, and the practical realities of making music in a world that often doesn't understand why you need absolute silence to hear the French horn line in your head.

In addition, our primary focus is on our relationship with you. This isn't about broadcasting generic advice into the void. It's about understanding the specific flavors of torture that each composer experiences. Some of you are tortured by perfectionism. Others by comparison. Still others by the haunting suspicion that maybe you should have become an accountant like your mother suggested. We see you. We understand you. We're here for all of it.

This way, every time you hang out with us, you end up getting an idea that takes your compositions to the next level. Sometimes that idea is a technical solution to a thorny orchestration problem. Sometimes it's permission to write something terrible. Sometimes it's just knowing that someone else out there also had to Google "what note is the open G string on a violin" for the hundredth time.

We particularly appreciate when our following provides feedback via testimonials, reviews, and comments left on our site or social media accounts. Your stories of breakthrough moments, creative disasters, and everything in between help shape our understanding of the composer's journey. When you tell us about the time you accidentally wrote a fugue in your sleep, or when you finally understood what secondary dominants were after years of confusion, these stories become part of our collective knowledge base.

Because with that feedback, we can use it to make your next newsletter even better than the last. We're constantly refining our approach based on what resonates with you. Did a particular analogy finally make modal interchange click? Did a creative exercise unlock something you'd been struggling with for months? We want to know about it.

Since we put so much effort into the relationship with you, we hope that any investment in us is exactly the way you hoped it would be. Whether that investment is your time reading these emails, your emotional investment in trying our exercises, or eventually perhaps joining our community in a more formal way, we take that trust seriously.

Because by choosing to go with Tortured Composer's Society, it's our promise that we provide a community you will fall in love with over and over again. A place where your creative struggles are understood, where your small victories are celebrated, and where someone will always understand why you're excited about discovering a new chord voicing.

Now, as much as we care about making the world more musical and more creative, we also care about your privacy. In an age where every click is tracked and every preference is monetized, we believe your creative journey should remain yours. We're committed to the right to your privacy and strive to provide a safe and secure user experience.

Our Privacy Policy explains how we collect, store and use personal information, provided by you on our website. We don't sell your information to companies who want to market sample libraries to you (though honestly, you probably already have too many). We don't share your struggles with perfectionism with companies selling meditation apps. Your creative journey is your own, and we're simply honored to be a small part of it.

It also explains important information that ensures we won't abuse the information that you provide to us in good faith. When you tell us about your compositional challenges, your victories, your preferred DAW, or your secret love of parallel fifths, that information stays with us.

By accessing and using our website, you can trust that what you want to be kept private, will be kept private. Your unfinished symphonies, your experimental phase with serialism, that time you tried to write a rap opera—all of it remains confidential.

If at any time, you would like to read our Privacy Policy and get a better understanding of your rights and liabilities under the law, feel free to visit our site, find the privacy policy in the footer and read it. It's written in plain English, not legalese, because we believe you should actually understand what you're agreeing to.

If there is something you are concerned about or wish to get more clarity on, please let us know by contacting us at [email protected]. Whether it's a privacy concern, a creative question, or just wanting to share your latest compositional triumph, we're here for it.

The Privacy Policy also informs you of how to notify us to stop using your personal information. If you decide that our particular brand of compositional torture isn't for you, we make it easy to step away. No hard feelings. The world of music is vast, and everyone must find their own path through it.

If you wish to view our official policies, please visit our website TorturedComposers.com. There you'll find not just policies, but resources, exercises, and a growing collection of stories from composers just like you who are navigating the beautiful, terrible, wonderful world of music creation.

Remember, composing is not just about the notes you write. It's about the journey of becoming someone who writes those notes. Every struggle, every breakthrough, every moment of doubt and every moment of clarity—they're all part of the process. We're here to make that process a little less lonely and a lot more fun.

The world waits for your music, but there's no rush. Take your time. Make mistakes. Write garbage. Write gold. Write everything in between. We'll be here for all of it.