Why James Taylor is a genius.
James Taylor is a genius, but not, in my opinion, strictly because of Fire and Rain, although you could make that argument and I wouldn’t fight you.
The thing is, there’s another song, a deeper cut, that displays his brilliance as a writer.
What I’m on about here is his economy of words. (And we could all benefit from using fewer words to get to the friggin point, am I right?)
Millworker. Do yourself a favour and invest four minutes.
Even if you just listen to the first 40 words (try writing anything of substance in just 40 words) you’ll be whisked away into the heart-wrenching life of a woman who is struggling to stay afloat.
Here are the first 40 words of the song:
Now my grandfather was a sailor, he blew in off the water
My father was a farmer and I, his only daughter
I took up with a no-good millworking man from Massachusetts
Who dies from too much whiskey and leaves me these three faces to feed
I think it’s worth breaking this thing down.
“Now my grandfather was a sailor, he blew in off the water”
He didn’t just show up, he BLEW IN. You can feel his ancient bluster and big presence.
“My father was a farmer and I, his only daughter”
A farmer. The virtual opposite of HIS sea faring father, possibly a disappointment… then “I his only daughter”… perhaps another diappointment of having the audacity to be female.
“I took up with a no-good millworking man from Massachusetts”
We immediately see the regret of her choices.
“Who dies from too much whiskey and leaves me these three faces to feed.”
Three faces! Not “three children”. Three FACES. It makes them human and conveys her love for them in spite of her lot in life. You can see them looking up at her.
What can we learn from this in our own writing?
One thing might be, get to the point, and make every word matter. An adage I’ve lived by when evaluating copy is that every word should fight to be on the page. Sounds dramatic, but it’s a useful guideline.
In his great book on writing, called On Writing, Stephen Kings tells us to “kill your darlings, kill your darlings, even when it breaks your egocentric little scribbler’s heart, kill your darlings”. Good advice.
As for Millworker… there’s a bonus lyric toward the end you should stick around for, cuz it always gives me chills:
The woman in the song is speaking:
“…so may I work your mill, just as long as I am able,
and never meet the man whose name is on the label.
It’s just me and my machine for the rest of the morning,
for the rest of the afternoon, and the rest of my life…”