"I'm not sure why writing for others became harder. Probably a reluctance to give away anything you might conceivably use yourself caused a block. I did it, but it remained hard when it had once been easy"
About this Quote
Cavett turns a very writerly problem into a surprisingly human confession: success can make generosity feel like leakage. Early in a career, words are plentiful because you believe tomorrow will bring more. Later, every good line starts to look like inventory. The “block” he describes isn’t mystical; it’s a defensive reflex, the creative equivalent of clutching your wallet in a crowd.
The phrasing does a lot of the work. “Conceivably use yourself” carries the slippery paranoia of show business, where a joke isn’t just a joke, it’s a unit of livelihood. Cavett came up writing for other performers and hosting in a medium built on constant freshness; your best material is also your best leverage. In that economy, sharing isn’t virtue, it’s risk management. He’s admitting that the marketplace can quietly rewire the instinct to be useful.
There’s also a subtle grief in the last clause: “hard when it had once been easy.” That’s not nostalgia for youth; it’s mourning for an earlier self who could create without calculating. Cavett doesn’t glamorize the struggle or posture as tortured. He says, plainly, “I did it,” which is the pro’s mantra: you deliver anyway. The sting is that professionalism doesn’t restore the earlier ease; it only teaches you how to work while guarded.
In a culture that fetishizes “content,” Cavett’s line reads like a warning: when everything you make is monetizable, even collaboration starts to feel like self-theft.
The phrasing does a lot of the work. “Conceivably use yourself” carries the slippery paranoia of show business, where a joke isn’t just a joke, it’s a unit of livelihood. Cavett came up writing for other performers and hosting in a medium built on constant freshness; your best material is also your best leverage. In that economy, sharing isn’t virtue, it’s risk management. He’s admitting that the marketplace can quietly rewire the instinct to be useful.
There’s also a subtle grief in the last clause: “hard when it had once been easy.” That’s not nostalgia for youth; it’s mourning for an earlier self who could create without calculating. Cavett doesn’t glamorize the struggle or posture as tortured. He says, plainly, “I did it,” which is the pro’s mantra: you deliver anyway. The sting is that professionalism doesn’t restore the earlier ease; it only teaches you how to work while guarded.
In a culture that fetishizes “content,” Cavett’s line reads like a warning: when everything you make is monetizable, even collaboration starts to feel like self-theft.
Quote Details
| Topic | Writing |
|---|---|
| Source | Help us find the source |
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