Tucked away in a small street in Koenji, Japan (a suburb of Tokyo) is the Manuscript Writers Cafe. In a city with thousands of other coffee shops, this one stands out as unique and valuable in ways no other cafe can replicate.
From the outside, there is no discernible difference between the shop and any other small business on the street. But all of that changes when you walk inside.
There are no comfy sofas. No book liked shelves. No cloth-covered chairs. And you won't find any coffee tables ladened with the day's newspapers and gossip magazines.
Coffee? You get a choice of regular or decaf. No lattes or cappuccinos. The cafe doesn't even have a fancy coffee machine. But then again, the employees aren't baristas. Want a pastry? Tough luck. They don't serve any food.
Manuscript Writers Cafe is no Starbucks, but they don't aim to be.
When you arrive at the register, the manager calmly and quietly asks three questions:
What are you here for?
What is your deadline?
How would you like to be treated?
Run by a team of writers, the sole purpose of Manuscript Writers Cafe's
is to help other writers working on a deadline.
Here's how it works.
After arriving, you notify the employee of the number of words you need to write, your deadline, and how you want to be reminded (friendly, firm, or stern). Then, every hour, the manager will come and "check in" on you to monitor your progress and ensure that you are on track.
The final rule? You may not leave the cafe until you have completed your writing task. PERIOD.
My return to writing always has an ambiguous start date. Music teachers' return to work dates are all over the map, depending on where and what you teach. Some of you are already in camp, while others don't return until after Labor Day.
As I write this, it's 4:34 a.m. on Tuesday (yesterday), and now I am under the gun to write. I'm planted in a Starbucks at the Dallas airport, trying to figure out what to write and secretly wondering if anyone would even notice if I don't write anything.
Why did I wait so long? I had seven weeks to write this.
It's not that I am lazy (okay, maybe a little bit). I have been writing a ton this summer, just not the newsletter.
It's not because I don't have the time. Long plane flights and empty hotel rooms afford me more than enough time to get the job done.
It's not that I don't have things to say. My job is to talk all day long, and I am always willing to pontificate. Just ask my family.
It's because I don't have a deadline.
More so than most other professions, music educators run on deadlines. Start and end of school, camp dates, Friday night halftime shows, concerts, and contests are all deadlines. We even have deadlines every fifty-three minutes, announced by bells.
Music teachers thrive on deadlines.
Not all deadlines are as concrete. For instance, my wife wants to travel more with our boys before they leave the nest. My eldest is a senior in high school, so that deadline is approaching. Me? I want to run a marathon before I depart this planet. There is no specific date, but my body is telling me that there is definitely a deadline. But, I remain hopeful.
As we begin the year anew, other deadlines are real but hard to define, such as the deadline to:
Make a first impression.
Set rehearsal expectations.
Create group culture.
Identify those who are struggling.
Embolden your leaders.
Build relationships.
Since these are soft deadlines, they are easy to miss or even ignore and can get lost in the sea of instrument checkouts and locker assignments. But they are essential deadlines nonetheless.
The beginning of the year is the time to determine your group's cultural goals and act as if your cultural deadlines were as concrete as your performance schedule. Better culture will result in better performances, but the same can't be said for vice-versa.
So, taking my queue from the Manuscript Writers Cafe, allow me to help you by asking:
What is your goal?
What is the deadline?
How would you like to be reminded: friendly, firm, or stern?
Oh yeah. And don't forget. You can't leave until you've reached your goal(s). I'm willing to hold you to it.
Welcome back. Have a great week.
- Scott