None of us expected or planned for 2020 to unfold the way this strange, hard, historic, tumultuous year has, in spite of all our plans and all the normal things we desperately want to be doing. 2020 continues to do its own thing.
While acknowledging that this year has been one of struggle and hardship for so many people, I believe it’s a unique time of stubborn celebration too. Being reminded that life is uncertain is unsettling, but it’s also freeing.
In a strange, bittersweet way, a pandemic is a great time to be creating because hey, guess what, literally no one cares.
Have you been waiting to try something until you feel as if you’re good enough, or you’re not “busy,” or you stop feeling self-conscious about other people seeing it? Life in a pandemic is the ultimate reminder that everyone is focused on their own stuff, not on yours. Yes, you should write that thing, apply for that opportunity, show as much (or as little) of the work you’re proud of as you want because what the hell do we have to lose anymore? It’s also a jolt to those of us (and I’m talking to myself here, very much) who second-guess themselves on being “ready.” We aren’t guaranteed more time, which is why I wrote recently about not waiting on your creative ideas.
But one of the paradoxes of creativity (and the focus of this newsletter installment) is that as much as you will probably never feel fully “ready” for that next project, taking the time you need to prepare for your next step and let your idea grow without pressure is also important. I’m endlessly fascinated by the creative process, and a question I’ve been asking myself is “Where do these two things meet?” How do you find the line between fostering and protecting your next idea and strangling it with too much waiting and over-analyzing? When do you know the time is right?
You’re probably guessing now what I’m going to say: It depends. (The answers to most questions and situations in life is “it depends.”) It depends on you, first and foremost, and how clearly you’re tuned in to your own creativity and whether you know what next step would further (or damage) your creative growth.
Sometimes an idea needs to sit in the back of your mind for a long time before even being committed to paper. Or it needs to be written out and discarded to return later in a new form. I’ve learned from trial and error that immediately jumping on a new idea can be a mistake. Sometimes a project needs to evolve through a bunch of different iterations before you hit on the right one. If you’re someone like me and you need a format and limits to be able to create, you have to find the right foundation to start building.
You may or may not be a big reader, but either way, please stay with me for this next example – I think my experience with a project this year can give you ideas for your own creativity even if it’s not something you would take on yourself.
When I knew I wanted to read contemporary adult fiction for a year, I (obviously) had to turn this experiment into some sort of creative project involving lists. I thought about a stunt journalism “doing a thing for a year” concept, but it felt like way too much work for something that was supposed to be a fun project in my spare time. I considered starting a new blog, writing about my experience as a series of newsletters, or planning interviews for a book podcast with guests. But none of these ideas felt right.
I was inspired by author and tastemaker Anne Bogel, who is known for her canny book recommendations each week on her What Should I Read Next? podcast. Bogel has a secondary podcast called One Great Book where she describes a favorite book from her own reading shelf in about a 10-minute episode. I loved this format because I don’t always have time to listen to an hour-long podcast episode and because it felt like I had access to her very best recommendations. With One Great Book in mind, I decided to make my own scripted book podcast with 10- to 15-minute episodes, except each installment of the first season of my podcast Reading Like an Adult is about a month of reading a specific genre of adult fiction.
Once I hit on that format and limited myself to this one approach instead of a wide sea of possibilities, this project got really fun. Over the course of each month, I put the commentary running through my head on the books I’m reading into a Word document. A few weeks in, I start officially writing, fleshing out each episode’s 3 segments. The episodes all but write themselves.
I think that creative ease came from the year or so that I spent noodling around the idea, trying to hit on something that sounded fun, fired up my imagination, and also contributed to the world of books in some small way that would give other readers something they couldn’t find elsewhere (essentially, the Reading Adult Fiction 101 podcast I had searched for in vain). I’m also learning each month to give myself time to start making connections for the episode.
Sometimes I have ideas for what I’m going to write in the first few days, but often, I don’t really have an idea of what the episode will say until a couple of weeks in. As of this writing, for example, I have no idea what direction the episode about science fiction and alternative history will take, the themes I’ll discover, the ways the genre will or won’t inspire me creatively. But I’m excited to find out, and I’ve learned that with time, the episode will grow.
I think creativity is about finding the right map before setting off on the next adventure. You can’t prepare for everything you’ll encounter on the journey, but if you have the right tools in hand, you’ll know that you’re ready for anything.
This project has helped me navigate that fine line between waiting enough and waiting too long. I wish I had the time to perfect every episode. I worry that I’m not encompassing a wide enough range of authors or topics or perspectives. More time to write and edit, a better microphone, endless hours to research the genres I’m tackling, an MFA in fiction … all of it would help. But when I put the first three episodes out into the world in March, as we were all learning to navigate life in a pandemic, I knew it was the right time. The project had grown enough to be ready to exist, even though it would never be perfect, and it would help me stretch creatively and be the right mix of challenge and fun for the rest of the year. I was prepared, while knowing I would never feel “ready.”
This is Part 2 in a 5-part series about creativity in 2020. Go here to read the first installment, which lays out one practical framework for turning big ideas into small, doable, fun goals.