By almost any writer’s standards, Terry
Teachout is having a very good year.
To wit, in reverse order: Duke, his biography of Duke Ellington, was
published October 17th to generally great reviews. The previous week, on October 11th,
The King’s Man, his third collaboration
with composer Paul Moravec, premiered at the Kentucky Opera in Louisville. On
September 18th, Duke was
included on the non-fiction long list for the National Book Award, a month before
its official pub date.
A sequence of events like this is
what many a writer’s dreams are made of. This past spring wasn’t too shabby,
either, with Satchmo at the Waldorf,
the stage adaptation of his bio on Louis Armstrong, garnering two nominations
and one win (for the lead actor) at the Connecticut Theatre Awards. And mind
you, this was all produced in the midst of the deadlines required by his ‘day
job’ as a critic.
Now, to be clear, I do not actually
know Mr. Teachout, but I have known of him for quite some time. He first beeped
onto my radar screen in the mid-90s when I was directing the marketing and
press activities involved in introducing Berlin Classics, a then-new German classical
label, to the American audience. Teachout
was on my monthly press and radio list, which numbered a few hundred at that
time. (I wince to think of how few of those classical-format radio stations survive
and how few of those press contacts are with publications that still feature professional
– or, indeed, any – arts criticism.)
When my days with the label were
over, I would occasionally see Teachout’s distinctive name pop up here and
there, but he was off my radar until I read his lovely tribute to the irascible
and charming lyricist Gene Lees (best known for Yesterday I Heard the Rain and Quiet
Nights of Quiet Stars), whom I’d known from one my first jobs in music
publishing. Reading his column on Lee’s passing in the spring of 2010, I learned
Teachout had made quite a leap and was now the drama critic for The Wall Street Journal. Not long after that, I joined Twitter and his
was one of the first accounts I followed. That’s when my real awareness of and
admiration for him as a writer began.
Over the course of 2011, I noticed
the demanding travel schedule he kept, and then began to get a handle on the extra-curricular
work he was producing. That year we
Twitter followers read of the premiere of his second opera, Danse Russe, and his work on adapting to
theatrical form his acclaimed 2009 book Pops:
A Life of Louis Armstrong, which would become Satchmo at the Waldorf. And at some point he announced that the
Ellington biography was his next book.
In the spring of 2012, he shared on
Twitter his elation at receiving a MacDowell Colony residency for the coming
summer. (That was a happy note in an otherwise difficult spring, marked by the
death of his beloved mother after a months-long illness.) We followers were
able to track the breakthroughs he achieved on Duke at MacDowell, and when he returned to his real-life schedule,
we were witness to his triumph at getting to the final draft later in the year,
his delivery of the manuscript, his relief when his editor accepted it, his (muted)
appreciation for the copy editor’s notes, and then, earlier this year, his unvarnished
appreciation for the cover design and the work of the book designer. Somewhere
in that mix, he also worked on the revision of the Satchmo play, which opened at New Haven’s Long Wharf Theatre in
October, 2012.
This body of worked produced over a
few years is substantial enough, but it becomes utterly astonishing when you
realize that he has accomplished all this while carrying a work load that would
have most people curled into a fetal position.
Teachout is perhaps the only drama critic in America who considers the entire
country his beat, so he is not only covering New York theatre, but Chicago,
Boston, Washington, Los Angeles and regional theatres across the country. In addition to his reviews, he also writes a weekly
column for the WSJ, blogs regularly at his Arts Journal post, and
keeps his hand in the music world with liner notes on the side.
Now, to the uninformed eye, a
critic’s job seems like a walk in the park.
You get to watch/listen to stuff you like – for free! –and then all you have to do is write about it. Having known a number of critics over the
years (mostly music critics, of course, but a few film critics, an art critic,
and even a television critic), I can tell you that whole for free! thing goes out the window when you see the foot-high pile
of discs that comprise the assignment due tomorrow, or the slumped shoulders of
a film critic heading off to his third film in two days, or a music critic trying
to figure out how to cover three far-flung performances of a weekend.
The fact that Mr. Teachout has been
able to meet his deadlines and achieve all that he has with his own books and
libretti is admirable enough, but doing it with the kind of soul-sapping travel
schedule he maintains puts him in the ranks of cultural super-heroes as far as
I’m concerned.
Amidst all this, he has done an
enormous service to writers by sharing on Twitter the joy of writing on those
days when the words and ideas just flow – sometimes like Niagara Falls,
sometimes like a burbling creek – the days we all dream of. But he’s also shared the frustration of those
days when the words just don’t come. No matter how far you open the spigot,
there’s not a drop. But the most indispensable thing I have learned from Mr.
Teachout, especially when he tweets about his to-do list or the mountain of due
dates he is facing of a week, is this: get
the butt in the chair.
In fact, that’s the greatest lesson
writers can take away from any experienced writer: Apply generous
amounts of butt glue when necessary, but get the butt in the chair.
I’ll be reading Duke later this week, or maybe early
next. It’ll be my reward for meeting one of my own editing due dates. And when
I go out to buy it, I’m also going to stop by my local art supply store to see
how much they charge for the big containers of butt glue, because I’m going to need
a lot in the coming weeks. And I think
I’ll write on the top of the container – in big Magic Marker letters – Teachout Success Formula.
Thanks for the inspiration, Mr. T.
Jeanne McCafferty is an editor, writer and book designer.
You can see samples of her work and learn how to contact her at www.jeannemccafferty.com.
She is on Twitter @IrishCabrini.
She is on Twitter @IrishCabrini.