Getting motivated - Shawn's Sense with Shawn Loughlin

As I sit here writing this column, I am very hungry. It’s almost lunch time; close enough to even pass for an early lunch - yes, I realize that I am a man in my forties and can have lunch, or any meal for that matter, at any time I want because I am, in fact, an adult who answers only to myself - and yet, I am not indulging in the chicken parm. sandwich that I prepared and packed for myself. I am here, at my computer, writing.

 

In Adaptation - for my money, the greatest movie ever written about the drudgery of what it actually means to write for a living - Charlie Kaufman (a real writer - the writer of the film, in fact - being portrayed by Nic Cage as a somewhat fictionalized version of himself) sits in front of his typewriter and he is, to put it mildly, having trouble getting started. Not only does he not quite know where to start his piece but he’s also having trouble motivating himself to write. He begins daydreaming about getting coffee and a muffin and further muses about some of his favourite varieties of muffins (banana nut - that’s a good muffin).

 

And while he’s sure that coffee and a muffin (perhaps banana nut) might be just the things to get his creative juices flowing, he zags and decides that he will not, in fact, indulge in this breakfast of champions (Kaufman is an Academy Award-winning screenwriter after all), but reward himself with it. He’ll get something down on paper and then, in recognition of that achievement, eat.

 

There’s a memorable scene in The Sopranos that deals with this kind of idea as well. Vito Spatafore, unaccustomed to doing an honest day’s work, finds himself in the unfortunate scenario of having to turn in just that and he’s having trouble. He’s working towards lunch - sandwiches made by his lover - and is sure, by the location of the sun, among other things, that it’s almost noon... maybe 11:45 a.m. He finally cracks and looks at his watch to reveal that it’s not yet 10 a.m. He’s disappointed.

 

I don’t know if this is a system that my classmates employed as well, but I certainly know I used an internal reward system through my school years. I’m sure it’s endured to today as all of the computer programs and A.I. agents in the world can’t make schoolwork fun.

 

I’m sure there’s some sort of anthropological reasoning behind this that a much smarter person than me has detailed in some paper or medical journal (maybe followed quickly by a treat of coffee and a muffin), but that’s just how my brain has always operated.

 

It’s funny to take it even a step further and to wonder about the processes that have gone into some of the greatest works of art or some of our personal favourites. I know it’s romantic to think of our great artists as these tortured geniuses whose bodies literally shut down and refuse to function if they don’t create their art right here, right now, all in one shot, but, I’m sure many of them got up some mornings and just weren’t feeling it, man. Not everyone can be Vincent van Gogh or Jackson Pollock.

 

Maybe the iconic final two paragraphs of The Great Gatsby were gifted to us solely due to F. Scott Fitzgerald promising himself a feed of pasta once he finally finished the book that day. Did Tom Thomson give Canada “The Jack Pine” so he could finally get out of the cabin and go canoeing? Was a night out with Andy Warhol beckoning, so Jean-Michel Basquiat wrapped up “Untitled” and treated himself?

 

We’ll never know.

 

The great director David Fincher famously has said that “Movies aren’t finished. They’re abandoned.” Maybe they’re abandoned in favour of coffee and a muffin.