Writing's On The Wall

Notes on creativity

I’m no expert…

Is what I would say if I was talking to you about most things, but since today I’m talking to you about creativity, you’ll be happy to know, I am in fact, an expert.

What makes me an expert crafts(wo)man you ask? Making things does, I make things.

I make dinner, I fashion hairstyles, I sew (ugly and lopsided) clothes, I crotchet, I cultivate friendships, I crack jokes, I arrange words on pages in a way that pleases me, and in the ultimate act of creation—I have made a human. Yes, I crafted an entire human person inside my belly. He, if I do say so myself, turned out practically perfect in every way (give or take 10k worth of orthodontics. I did my best).

I am telling you this because you might be feeling like you aren’t a creative person, or that making something is too hard. To which I say poppycock (a word I have never used in my life, see creative).

Every single one of you were born with all the tools you need to create something. I made that human baby without even thinking about it, my body was born to do that, and it did that.

Now if you are forcing yourself to try to make things you weren’t born to make, that’s where you will be met with some resistance. Luckily, the world doesn’t need seven-billion writers (or babies).

The first step is to identify what it is you want to make. A good way to figure this out is to ask yourself who you are jealous of.

Are you jealous of the baker who wakes up before sunrise to knead his dough? Maybe you should bake something. Are you jealous of the person traveling the country in a van, playing songs they wrote to a small crowd, in an even smaller dive bar? Maybe you should learn the guitar.

I’m a little bit envious of both those examples to be honest.

For me, I found myself jealous, even angry, at the people who got the time to write. Authors pumping out book after book and promoting said books all over the world; that really pissed me off. As jealous as this made me, I didn’t realize for a long time that jealousy is a giant fucking arrow pointing to what you want to be doing. I don’t want to be (or be like) anyone else, or copy anyone’s work, but I do want to be a writer, and there is only one surefire way to become one—and that is to WRITE.

Now apply this rule to whatever thing you want to do or create and start making the damn thing (after you finish reading this, of course).

But I don’t have time to be creative.

Yes you do. Yes you absolutely do. You might not have time to sell your house and go on tour with your all-female Green Day tribute band, yet. But you could Amazon yourself an acoustic guitar and learn to play Brain Stew in a couple hours. Every other semi-creative thing you are doing during the day counts as a deposit into your creativity bank. Rearranging the furniture, gardening, singing a song you made up about the dog to the dog, mixing a martini; creative-creative-creative.

But what I make is ugly, boring, bad.

First of all who cares? It’s very rare for someone to be naturally gifted at things without having to practice. Sure Shaq was (probably) born a little better at basketball than me, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t have to practice that sport every day of his life to get good. You might be thinking, Shaq? Lebron is the greatest of all time. You are entitled to that opinion. What’s more impressive than the fact that I’ve correctly named two sporty-ball players, is that I am going to use that as a lay-up for my next point. There is always going to be someone better, younger, smarter, funnier, and hotter than you; and there is always going to be someone worse, older, dumber, blander, and frumpier than you, even if you’re Shaq. Take that as a W and let it free you from trying to be perfect at something. Nobody needs you to be the best at anything, except at being yourself.

But what if they hate it?

Ok, so you’ve made something that I hope YOU love, or at the very least are happy with how it turned out, but you’re scared to release it into the world because “What if they hate it?”

If someone hates what you’ve made, good. That is absolutely great news. That means you made something for yourself and not for anyone else. Best thing you can do creatively. The person who hates what you made has a totally different set of eyes and sensibilities than you. That should be celebrated, we love diversity!

Hating something is akin to loving something; it means the thing you made is evoking strong feelings in someone. That is why we make things. If you want to make something palatable for the masses, that means you are not creating for yourself. You might as well have AI do it for you at that point.

Now what if someone loves what you made? Yay! The best feeling in the world is to connect with other people and share common interests. When someone says to me that they love my writing, I made them laugh, or something I said was relatable—nothing makes me happier. Does that mean I will continue to write similar things to elicit the same response from the same people, nope.

To quote Rick Rubin “The audience comes last.”

Some of my favorite and least favorite songs are on the same album. Hating something is an invitation to look inside ourselves, not the other person. Unless I’m writing about kicking kittens (which I most certainly do not do) and someone hates my work, I find it is much more about them than it is about me. Pieces I have written that are my least favorite, end up getting the most views, go figure.

But what if it’s not perfect.

Please get the notion that things have to be “perfect” in order to be published, produced, or promoted out of your pretty little head. Unless you’re writing questions for the SAT exam or in a medical journal, nothing needs to be perfect. In fact as we move into the age of artificial intelligence, I predict imperfection will become more and more desirable. A wobbly ceramic bowl, an asymmetrical haircut, a chipped manicure, and a Substack article peppered with typos; cute-cute-cute.

Don’t wait for anything to be perfect, or you’ll be waiting forever.

When you feel like your work is done, it’s done.

Love you xoxo