In today’s Deseret News there’s an instructive article about someone applying the principles of deliberate practice to his work. BYU sports broadcaster Greg Wrubell is featured in the story and we learn about the extensive time he spends in reviewing his own work, looking for any elements that might be improved. A second principle is the amount of time spent in preparation for each game he broadcasts: 24 hours or more. Perhaps the most important thing to note is his passion for his work. In fact, to him it’s not work at all. Interested parties take note:

• Review your own work exhaustively, looking for specific ways to improve it. Then make plans to do so.
• Prepare to do your work using lessons learned from your review of previous work done.
• Love what you do. If you don’t love it, you won’t be willing to pay the price of review and preparation as listed above.

Great little post (complete with pictures) about “jump starting” your creativity. Sometimes we sit around waiting for the “right” moment to begin being creative. Ain’t no such thing, folks. Sorry to crush that myth under my car tire. Not really. The right time (as you already knew, huh?) is now. Maybe one or more of these will help.

One of my all-time favorite children’s books is Owl Moon, by Jane Yolen. To my mind it isn’t just a children’s book. It is certainly a quiet book, about quiet things. But it is also a profound piece of literature, filled with mystery, magic, and pathos.

I recently read a quote by Ms. Yolen about her writing process that has resonated with my own truth. I’ve included her statement below:

“Do you have a secret that makes you so productive?
Want to know my secret? BIC.

That’s right. BIC. Butt in chair. There is no other single thing that will help you more to become a writer.

William Faulkner said: “I write only when I’m inspired. Fortunately I’m inspired at 9 o’clock every morning.”

BIC.”

Thousands of books (if not more) have been written about the creative process. No doubt millions of dollars have been spent on books and classes by writers and artists trying to discover the key to unlock the full force of their own creative energy. I’ve purchased more than a few of those books myself, and have certainly attended my share of classes and workshops.

But as someone has wisely stated, when all is said and done, a lot more will have been said than done.

What else could make more of a difference in one’s creative pursuit than to sit down and work. Even when you don’t feel like it. Especially when you don’t feel like it. BIC. It could be the key to greatness. It’s certainly the key to getting the work done.

Great little post from artist Cassandra Barney as she attempts to understand her own creative process. The money quote: “I believe that a really integral part of creativity is persistence and work.” Amen, sista…

With all this in mind, I’m realizing (again) the necessity of no. If I really, REALLY believe in the work I am doing, then no should only be a “yes” deferred. In other words, “no” is (or can be) a great opportunity to dig deeper and to hopefully discover at least two truths: Do I believe, and is my work worth believing in? Rejection is never fun and no one wants to be rejected. I am learning, however, that anything I create can almost always be improved, and most of the time substantially. Rather than throwing up my hands in despair (which I would NEVER do ) I instead must sit back down in the chair and try looking through another person’s eyes to discover why they said “no.” I don’t like you, Mr. Rejection, but I understand why you are necessary. Mostly.

Zen Habits is one of my favorite resources for creative inspiration. Leo Babauta’s posts always provide jet fuel to my creative launches. This one dealt with the creative habits of successfully creative people. I’d love to know what your habits are. I’ll share some of mine in an upcoming post. Thanks in advance for sharing.

Perhaps I’ll mourn the ending of Lost elsewhere, but this isn’t the time or the place. Instead, here is a great interview in The New York Times with the show runners (the people responsible for writing and producing each episode) about their creative process through the six seasons the program has run.

In particular, I appreciated their comments about living within the “limits” of their medium (broadcast television) and forcing themselves to be entertainers first and foremost. If Lost had been about philosophy and Big Ideas first, it wouldn’t still be on the air. The reason the audience has stayed tuned and become so passionate about the show has to do with the characters and their arcs. As Lindelof and Cruse indicate, the show is ultimately about personal redemption. That is a compelling narrative. But we have to see them work out their issues through what they do, not by any expression of philosophy.

This is very applicable for anyone trying to work out their own creative battle between art and commerce. One possible lesson could simply be that restraint is the mother of ingenuity. Rather than complaining about what you don’t have or what you can’t do to be creative, make the most of the patch of dirt you’ve been given.

Even though I still feel feelings of unpleasantness towards these “edibles,” I’ve come to appreciate their value in my life and in the development of my creative capacity. This is because the creative person’s most important friend is often perceived to be his or her worst enemy, namely, obstacles. Problems and challenges along the way often become the germ of a far greater creative truth; a truth we would never had discovered if we hadn’t been “stopped” by a problem or struggle in the process. I have come to learn to welcome these times. Without exception they have been friends, even if at first I didn’t view them as such.

A great friend and adviser recently taught me that often the good book must be written in order to find the great book that lies beyond it. I believe this to be true, and I’m now discovering it in my own writing (not that what I’m doing is “great.” It does at least feel “better.”) Trusting in the truth that good work can be the beginning of something great, I am grateful for Cream of Wheat and onions, and hope I have learned or am learning the lessons they’ve provided.

“Entelechy is a particular type of motivation, need for self-determination, and an inner strength and vital force directing life and growth to become all one is capable of being.” – Deirdre Lovecky

“The tricky thing about being in the entertainment industry is that basically no matter how much money is involved, how good the life is, the thing that still compels you is that thing inside.” – Tim Burton

So how strong is your own entelechy? How deep is your drive to make whatever it is you feel compelled to make? What one step, no matter how small, will you take today to move (at least) one step closer to your creative goals?

Some days I love it. Briefly. Most days I hate it. Intensely. But I’m slowly – make that sloooooowwwwwwwllllllllyyyyyyy – learning that The Slog is where most if not all of the important stuff happens. It’s certainly where I’m learning tons about tons. But not without cost. That too is an important gift from The Slog. If we got all of the glory without any of the work, the glory would be cheap and of little or no value to us.

So three cheers for The Slog. Okay, fine, one cheer. If it’s where you also find yourself, consider yourself lucky. Being stuck in The Slog means you paid a price to get there. It means “good things are still to come.” Love The Slog. Or at the least allow for the possibility of a fine working relationship. Hugs and kisses, Slog. (I hate you, Slog.)