Being Like the “Man of Letters”

David Hume said that Benjamin Franklin was “America’s first great man of letters.” And if you’ve ever read Franklin’s letters you would know why. He wrote something like 198 letters, just that we know about, and is considered one of the most prolific and influential writers in history.

As a former history teacher, his writings have always been interesting to me, as has his entire lifetime of work; however, what’s truly remarkable about his writing to me was his process.

Apparently one day when Ben was young his father came across a series of letters he had been exchanging with a friend concerning the topic of education. Ben thought women should be educated and his friend did not. His father told Ben what was good about his letters (mainly spelling and punctuation) and then he showed him where he was falling short compared to his friend. He said, “in elegance of expression, in method and in perspecuity, of which he convinced me by several instances.”

Instead of feeling defeated or accepting his current situation as his best, Franklin set off on an arduous journey towards improving his writing that most of us would never consider. One of the things he did was search out examples of writing that were far superior to anything he had ever come close to producing. He took the English periodical called The Spectacle and began dissecting the articles. First he would read the article and make notes on the meaning of each sentence. Next, a few days later, he would return to his notes and attempt to express the meaning of each sentence in his own words. Finally, he would compare his version to the original essay, find the flaws and then work to correct them.

One of the first things he realized he was lacking was an abundant vocabulary. In order to remedy the situation he decided to rewrite The Spectator essays in verse. He would walk away from them for a few days and when he returned he would write them in prose, always comparing his to the original.

When he noticed that he struggled with organization he came up with this idea where he would make short notes about each sentence from an essay and write each note on a separate sheet of paper. He would then walk away from the essay for a few weeks, until he had forgotten all about its structure and content, and when he returned to it he would mix up all of the slips of paper and attempt to put all of the notes back in the right order and rewrite the essay. Naturally he would then compare his to the original.

The amazing thing about this is that he did all of this on his own, no prompting from a teacher or a boss was required. He chose a target, writing that in is mind represented the best in prose, and he created a structured and deliberate practice so that he would see consistent improvement in his own writing.

We often talk about practicing things we want to get better at but many of us have not learned the art of deliberate practice. Or maybe we knew what it was like as kid but we’ve let it go. Many essay writers who want to become better essay writers often just try and write more essays. But that’s not necessarily practice. It’s just more writing.

Deliberate practice requires practicing what is the most challenging. Tiger Woods did not become the golfer he is because he spent hours every day playing 18 standard holes of golf. He’s the best because he spent hours on end in the rough, chipping shots out of the weeds and hitting the ball into the wind. Just playing 8 hours of golf a day is not enough. Playing 8 hours a day of the hardest golf you will ever see might be.

I think the most important part about practicing is first knowing where you want to go. And the knowing has to be real, true and come from deep within. Unless you really know you want something and you are willing to do whatever it takes to get there, then your commitment will falter. That’s why many projects die on the vine, the final chapters are never written and the screenplay never gets finished.

I also think many people struggle their whole lives to find something they want bad enough to practice no matter how challenging and how miserable it is. I have always been so envious of people who found something early on and stuck with it their whole lives whether it was a sport or a musical instrument or a profession or creative endeavor. I envied not only what they were doing but so admired their commitment to one thing and how much time and effort it must have taken them to achieve the level they have.

And yet at 40 I wonder if their is still time. I wonder if there is still time to be great. With all of the books about talent and hours and mindset that I have running through my head I sometimes have my doubts. Then I hear the stories about people who pick up piano at 40 and are playing Carnegie Hall by 50. Actors who get their first part at 47 and spend the next 30 years in movies.

So, yes – I know it can happen. On some level I know it. Maybe I’m scared to know that because it strips away an excuse.

And maybe, just maybe, if I keep practicing, one day I will be one of those late bloomer stories that will keep others in the game.

If you want to connect with us about an idea or you have a question, feel free to email us at
questions@bebetterthaneveryoneelse.com

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3 Responses to Being Like the “Man of Letters”

  1. Amy Miyamoto 26 at 4:46 pm #

    As a former history teacher of course I appreciate the Ben Franklin back story.

    What you share here is key:
    “I think the most important part about practicing is first knowing where you want to go. And the knowing has to be real, true and come from deep within. Unless you really know you want something and you are willing to do whatever it takes to get there, then your commitment will falter.”

    And sadly, our current culture (on so many levels) neither genuinely encourages or creates an environment where this kind of pursuit is anything but a “swimming upstream” kind of experience.

    Also in the acknowledgement that our outer world is merely a collective reflection of our inner worlds – it has been my experience of unfolding that the “inner repressed emotional” landscape is the first nut to be cracked and it is this dynamic that lies at the “heart” of the willingness issue to step onto the road to self-permission to even begin to explore the idea of “following my bliss”…

    It has been my experience that it takes both deep self-awareness/knowledge and extraordinary courage to commit oneself to this kind of devoted practice.

    It is a practice that I find myself pursuing now… yet even with the commitment to “uncovering” my true heart’s desire (it has always been there just heavily veiled), and the courage to cultivate that diamond in the rough (no matter what it takes), it is not a path that is a quick jaunt from point A to point B.

    Part of my journey has been to view every step I have taken up to this moment as necessary and in right order and every experience I have had has become part of this rich mosaic composition that I Know is all in preparation for the steps I am yet to take… I know that my Thing is to be offered to the world, (like that diamond) with a variety of facets – that all compliment each other in just the right way. Right now, my greatest challenge is cultivating my capacity for trusting the process of unfolding into the unknown and the faith that the universe is a supportive one.

    I know it might sound completely unrelated to what you have covered here – but right now my current focus of devotional practice has been dedicated to aligning and elevating my “state of being” – which ironically has involved a complete deconstruction of my previous patterns of “doing”… (and again totally on the edges of the mainstream… which brings me further outside my comfort zone hence the ongoing need for courage…)

    And then there are the concepts of time and money… two more things that are on the list for complete deconstruction and realignment… These are two such massive topics – yet they lie at the heart of so much dramatic possible change on both individual and global levels…

    More good stuff Melani! Thanks for making me look even deeper into my own heart in my search for my own truth and the opportunity to reflect on the path I find myself traveling… you keep me on my toes… And thank you for inviting the dialogue.

  2. Amy Miyamoto 26 at 5:03 pm #

    P.S. I recently saw this interview with The Alchemist’s author, Paolo Coelho (by Chris Brogan on his new show). Talk about commitment… He survived three commitments to mental institutions by his parents before the age of 21 all because of his devout stance of wanting to be a writer… The interview (the long version) is worth checking out…

    http://scrt.co/02ries (it is the video at the bottom)

  3. Melani 26 at 9:57 pm #

    Great video – thanks for sharing the video link. He’s fabulous!