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Happy 2024! So during my winter break, I decided to also take a break from writing and reread my first novel for the first time in four years (when I started writing my second novel). It was pretty interesting comparing the different styles of the two novels and really, the intention behind them.

For my first novel, I was trying to write the funniest book I could possibly write and have the reader laugh on every single page. For the second, I was going through a divorce when I started writing it, and wanted to create a more meaningful story about a heartbroken man's search for joy, acceptance, and love. Humor is definitely sprinkled into the second novel, but the main purpose was helping people find more fulfillment and joy in their lives rather than just making them laugh.

Since starting on that new project, I've kind of thought of my first novel as a bit juvenile and something of which I was actually a little embarrassed (probably a common feeling among writers when thinking back on their earlier work). But after rereading it, well, it actually is really funny and I'd imagine it would help lift people up as well and help them find joy, even if the story is far less serious (or maybe because it is).

Now, I still think my second novel is the better of the two stories, and I am focusing on getting that one out into the world, but I also feel a lot prouder of my first one and am planning on making that my annual winter break read to help lift my own spirits before I close out the year.

I haven't necessarily been posting here recently, but I have definitely still been writing (I swear!). While I continue to edit my novel and brainstorm ideas for my next one, I have been working on a few humorous picture book manuscripts for adults. Some of these I can share here and others, well, I probably need to come up with a pseudonym for those ones.

I have found the structure for the adult ones I've recently written to be surprisingly similar to my stories for kids, just with a slightly more mature context. And like many of my children's stories, a lot of them also seem to involve a discarded, unwanted inanimate object that longs for someone to appreciate it, until it finally finds an opportunity to be a hero and takes that leap!

Anyway, here is one of these recent stories. I hope you like it!

It's been a while (two years). A lot has happened in that time! I moved to Chicago, got engaged, got married, and I even wrote a few new stories. I figure it's probably time to start blogging again...

Over the last few months, I've been able to take advantage of the Pfizer vaccine in my arm and travel to Arkansas, Massachusetts/Maine, and Chicago, and it made me realize that I haven't journaled much about the trip I took up from Alameda to Crater Lake last August to do some research for my novel.

Since I couldn't travel much during the initial months of COVID quarantine, I decided that my main character, Ben, would do the adventuring for me. I had never driven north of Gualala on Highway 1 in California and had never been to Crater Lake in Oregon, so I had to rely on Youtube videos and Google searches to write about the cool places Ben would stumble upon on his trip. Now, is that the ideal way to do research for a novel that people who have actually been to these places would hopefully one day read? Uh…no. So after four months of lockdown and a temporary dip in COVID numbers, I decided to break free from Alameda, follow Ben up the coast with my dog, and make sure I had accurately depicted his journey.

The "why" of my trip made me think back to a Master Class session I viewed a couple of years ago from famed photographer Annie Leibovitz where she talked about why individuals should consider taking up photography. She said that "It's actually a wonderful medium for a young person to just go out and discover themselves and discover the world around them and it gives them permission to go out and look and have a purpose and observe." (I also wrote about this class in a post from 2019).

I think the point she's trying to make here is that photography gives people a reason to leave their houses and see amazing things, just like my novel did for me last year. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in the frustrating publishing aspect of writing that I forget about what else it brings to my life. Like a reason to just go out and discover myself and the world around me. For example:

As I finished writing a novel that I hoped one day would make it into the hands of millions of people, I quickly realized that it would be difficult to convince more than a few to read it in the short term. And, thus, my "why" of writing stories that lift people up would go unfulfilled for quite some time.

So I decided to put my ego aside for a bit and write a short story for my sister and her family for my niece and nephew's first birthday. No huge ambition of one day getting it published and seeing my name in print. No dream of using this story to quit my day job and go into writing full-time. Just a simple poem for my family to enjoy (and my loyal blog readers too, of course!).

This made me think back to a blog post I wrote back in 2019 after coming back from the weirdness of Burning Man, which seems like a freaking lifetime ago. At that time, I reflected on all of the art pieces scattered throughout the enormous Playa and how many of them likely only had a handful of people who had seen them throughout the week. I was trying to determine if, given all of the hours the artist had put into creating the piece and the low number of visitors, it was worth it for them to create it at all. And I emphatically said, "YES!" as long as the piece changed the way those few people thought of the world or of themselves (obviously, the actual artist may have had a different answer).

And then I reflected back on myself and said that "if I can inspire one person with one of my stories, I really do need to put my ego aside for just a second and remember that creation isn't always about going wide and getting as many eyeballs on my work as possible. It's about going deep as well, even if that means just two inspired eyeballs."

With my new story, Harry and Jules, I found those inspired eyeballs in my sister, brother-in-law, nephews, and niece, and that is more than enough. Well, at least for this story. So with that, here is Harry and Jules...

Read the full poem →

OK! Not a bad first critique! I chatted with an editor from a top publishing firm over the weekend, and she had really positive things to say about my first 10 pages. She said that she was engaged with the main character, felt there is a story there that is marketable, and that she definitely wanted to keep reading after she was finished with the pages I had sent over. Though when I asked if she actually wanted me to email her the rest of the manuscript, she kind of dodged the question, but hey, I'll take it!

So what's next? I think it's time to start emailing agents and seeing if they are interested in chatting with me about my manuscript without me first sending them $100. I mean, the goal is to eventually make money on this project and not have it be the reason I'm eating cereal for dinner (I'd prefer that reason be that I was too lazy to cook an actual meal. Like tonight). Reaching out to one agent a week seems pretty doable, especially for a guy who spends his working hours doing sales, so it is time to start doing my research. Look out, agent #1.

So I decided to take a couple of weeks off from working on the novel and reflect on why I was feeling anxious and frustrated. I think a big reason is that with novels, there's often no grand emotional reward at the end like there is with other forms of art. Write a song or a poem? You can perform it at countless open mics in any city on any night during non-COVID times. And people will almost always clap, even if the performance is a little rough. Paint something, build a sculpture, or complete a photography project? Your Instagram and Facebook followers are eagerly waiting for you to post about it so that they can tell you how amazing it is. And you can also display the finished product in your home for your guests to at least pretend to admire. Finish a novel though? Ummm…want to put aside all the other books you don't have time to read so you can give me feedback on my 300-page story???? No? Shit.

Even if you self-publish, it's really hard to get anyone other than friends and family to buy it, so you almost need to strike an actual publishing deal to contribute to more than a handful of people through your art. My first novel took me two and a half years to write, and then I edited it off and on over the next five. And I think five people have read it. That's a pretty poor return on investment! How the heck did I graduate from business school???

Thankfully, I've only spent 15 months on this one so far, but I fear I'm destined for the same outcome. Now, I did know all of this before I started writing the novel back in January 2020, but I wanted to work on it for my own self-healing, so even if it never finds its way onto a bookshelf at Barnes and Nobles, it was still absolutely worth the time and effort. But man, I really want people to read it, so it's time for a new goal: get an agent to read my first 10 pages in April and give me feedback. Given I can pay an agent to do this through The Manuscript Academy, this is actually a pretty achievable goal. Now, will they say I'm at least on to something with my story and ask to see the rest of the novel? There's only one way to find out…

When I was writing the first draft of my book, I set an ambitious goal of 25 pages a month so that I could finish what I assumed to be my 300-page novel before the end of 2020. And I got pretty close! Like page 297 or so and quickly finished the last 10 pages during the first two weeks of 2021 (the book is now at 299 after some editing).

Then after the first draft came revising for the second draft, which I goaled myself on finishing by the end of Feb. And then editing my hundreds of grammatical errors with Grammarly by mid-March, and then working through my "come-back-to this-later" comments once that was finished, and then…what?

I've accomplished all of these goals and though my manuscript is far from perfect, I'm really happy with the current version. Do I need a new goal and keep pushing forward to get this thing closer to publication? Should I instead work on a new creative project for a while? Or is it best to hit the pause button and just chill the f out for a bit?

It's weird, but instead of feeling grateful for having created a readable novel in under 15 months, I'm feeling really restless and a bit anxious and frustrated. Perhaps my new "goal" should be to take some time to actually live the lessons I write about in my book and notice and appreciate all that I already have a little more. At least for a few days…

So I'm just about finished with the second draft of my new novel (or is it my third or fourth or fifth? Who cares.). And now I'm ready to share my work with the world and start getting feedback. Oh shit!

Over the past 15 months, I've mostly kept my novel to only myself and any hackers who have been able to secretly gain access to my Google Drive account so that they can be among the first to read about a dude reluctantly going on a self-improvement journey in the woods (at least tell me what you thought, hackers! Am I any good????). During this time, I've been 100% certain with each page I write that my story will be a best seller and will find its way into the hands of millions of people who will all tell me how much my book has meant to them and how it has dramatically changed their lives.

And now? The realities of a semi-finished novel are upon me and I instead see a story filled with grammatical errors, plot lines that don't quite work, characters who change a little too quickly, and jokes that don't entirely land. Oh, how I miss the fantasies I spun while writing in a vacuum! But this is an absolutely necessary step in writing a novel, putting your work out there for a trusted few to see, and letting them show you all of the warts you have thus far overlooked yourself. So give me the Dr. Scholl's Clear Away Wart Remover. I'm ready to hear what you think, friends.

Alright, it's FINALLY time to post again. While I obviously haven't written a blog post in months, I wrote an entire first draft of my new novel in a year, so not too bad! But now that that's done and I am officially in editing mode for the 2nd draft, I will need a new creative outlet. And blogging it is!

"Oh, now you have time for me. Whatever, Jason. Go write another dumb novel."

"I'm sorry I've neglected you, blog! Take me back! Please, I'll be better! I promise!!!"

"Fine…just chill out, man. Desperation's not a good look on you."

"THANK YOU, BLOG!!!!!!!!!!"

Wow, that was weird. Sorry about that. OK, so I'm back to blogging and I'll write some more stuff later this week so check back soon!

So I've decided to move my blog from whydoyoucreate.com to jasondolan.com (as you've probably noticed since you are here). I really had aspirations of making whydoyoucreate some sort of viral blog and Instagram phenomenon like Humans of New York where I'd go around and talk to people about what inspires them to create. But I kind of lost motivation after a while and was focused mostly on my own creative process and projects.

A little self-centered, but so is a website dedicated to yourself, so it's a perfect match! Who knows, maybe I'll get the urge to start that project again when I'm officially allowed to leave my house and socialize with people again. In the meantime, jasondolan.com now has a blog (I've imported all of my old posts) and I can stop beating myself up for never posting Instagram pics and interviewing people. And without that stress, maybe I'll actually enjoy posting more often. Maybe…

So…a lot has happened since I last posted about my awesome trip to Nashville with my sister! Or, I guess in a way, a lot hasn't happened, since we've all been stuck inside our homes watching Tiger King. Despite not posting on this blog in like two months, I've been leaning heavily into creativity, particularly writing. No, really! I swear! My novel has provided me with much-needed structure in my quarantine days, as I have goaled myself at writing 2,000 words a week and have actually achieved that goal over the last month.

In addition to the structure, it has also provided me with a way to escape up the California coast with my characters. Despite sitting on my couch…every…single…day…and…night, I feel I'm kind of going on a camping adventure with some pretty awesome people. I wake up every day thinking about what they'll get up to and then get to create that experience for them.

And, for some reason, I decided to make my protagonist a photographer, so I had to learn the craft myself and recently purchased a Canon EOS Rebel SL3. I am currently enrolled in a photography course on Coursera and just submitted my first assignment called Quarantine Creativity (a photo of my roommate taking a photo of me while we drink lots of bourbon). Expect to see quite a few more photos on this blog moving forward. And likely more references to bourbon.

Wow, I've been to a lot of places in my life, but I haven't been anywhere quite like Nashville, where bar after bar after bar (after bar after bar…) has some of the most incredible music acts in the world performing country and rock and folk and probably many more genres, but a man can only go into so many bars in one weekend, especially with a 7-months pregnant-with-twins sister.

As someone who a decade ago thought he actually had a shot at making it in the music industry, I had to laugh while watching performers like Kyndal Inskeep, who apparently was on The Voice last season, randomly playing in low-key a singer songwriter's series at a chill bar on Printer's Alley.

I mean, literally every bar had a band and every act would have been the pride of any small town in the country. Yet in Nashville, just walk a couple doors down and you have another band blowing the crowd away with an Aretha Franklin song…

Or with a soulful ballad from a country artist I had never heard of but suddenly had the urge to fly across the country to go see…

Or with a Kid Rock song that somehow actually sounded good!

What a place to live if you're a music fan! But with so many amazing musicians in one place, there's also an obvious downside: increased supply and competition. Our Uber driver to the airport, J.T. Lewis, let us know that he is an aspiring country singer (of course) and rarely plays in downtown Nashville anymore since bars only pay $50 per musician per show (plus tips), because bars know there's always someone else dying to play if you turn down the gig. And how the heck are you supposed to break through in a town where everyone is radio-worthy? Instead, J.T. travels to college campuses every week where the pay is a lot more and it's easier to build a fan base.

So yeah, Music City isn't perfect, but for a weekend babymoon with my sister, I couldn't have picked a better spot. Thanks for coming along and watching me drink, Christina!

Just finished my first poem in quite some time. I started writing this story for really any kid who sometimes feels invisible, but it kind of evolved into one mostly for kids who feel invisible and also act out in order to get the attention they so want.

And it's also for people working with these kids (i.e., teachers) to help them understand that many of these kids just want to know that someone cares, even if it means punishing them. So with that, I present version 1 of The Invisible Boy. Let me know your thoughts!

The Invisible Boy

The invisible boy sat alone on his bed.
His hands disappeared, then his arms, then his head.

"No one can see me," he thought to himself,
"Like a toy that is hiding up high on a shelf."

Nobody talked to him, asked him his name,
Or welcomed him into their party or game.

He sometimes got angry, his hands in a fist,
"They think I'm not there, that I do not exist!"

But then he remembered, when no one can see,
You can do almost anything, climb up a tree,

Then jump off a limb in a somersault fall
And nobody yells at you, no one at all.

He could paint on the walls and then act like a clown,
Stand on his bed and then jump up and down.

He could just run away, far away from his home,
And travel to Paris and London and Rome.

For trouble can't come when no one aware,
No one would see him and no one would care.

So he packed up his bag, this invisible boy,
With his books and his hat and his most favorite toy.

And he walked out the door, past his mom and his dad,
Past his brother and sister, and no one was mad.

He continued along, past his school and his church,
He could leave for a week and not one soul would search.

The invisible boy took a last look around,
Then he hopped on a bus on its way out of town.

"Ian, I see you! Get off of that bus!"
Yelled a man to the boy, "We have much to discuss!

Your paper was late and you keep missing class,
With test scores like yours you'll be lucky to pass!

You have so much potential, you make me so mad!"
His teacher was angry and Ian was glad.

So he laughed and he grinned while his teacher just glared,
For somebody saw him and somebody cared.

So he hopped off the bus, this now visible boy,
And their walk back to school filled up Ian with joy.

Over the past nine or so years, I've spent countless nights writing and revising (and revising and revising…) the one novel I've written to date. I finally feel like it's in a place where I am excited to really make a push to agents and editors and will be able to withstand the inevitable rejection letters that will surely follow. And hopefully, one day, someone will eventually decide they like my story enough to represent me, but either way, I freaking did it. I wrote a novel, one that I'm really proud of, and like I've said over and over again, I will never, ever f'ing write another one.

But guess what I started earlier this month? Yeah. Oops. I need to write this story though. I'm currently going through a divorce, which obviously is one of the most challenging things I've ever going through, and so is my main character. He's a lot like me, but isn't me. And some of the issues with the relationship that failed in this story will be ones that ring true for me too, though the fictional marriage definitely wasn't my marriage.

The reason I need to write this story is that the lessons that my main character needs to learn by the end of the book are ones that I need to learn, as well. This story isn't going to be about one person being right in the relationship and one person being wrong. And it's not about one person being the good guy and the other person being the bad guy, because both people are right and the good guy at times and both people are wrong and the bad guy at other times.

What this story is going to be about is a man who needs to learn how to let go, to find things he was looking for in his partner within himself, and to move forward. And probably a lot of things I don't know about yet because I'm still just two months into the divorce. So here we go. I'm already three pages in! Only about 297 to go…

I've long wanted an opportunity to incorporate my love of storytelling with my K-12 education sales day job, and I finally had an opportunity to do that today, leading a session called The Power of Storytelling during my company sales offsite.

To do so, I borrowed material from Richard Freishtat, Vice President of Curriculum at UC Berkeley Executive Education. Richard is a master of helping companies and individuals craft their stories and I was fortunate enough to attend his Art of the Pitch class a few years back. He says that as we talk about stories in sales, really what we are thinking about is how people make decisions. And then how can we communicate in a way that will resonate with how the brain naturally wants to work through information.

There is a very traditional method of presenting information that most companies focus on through data, statistics, and logical arguments, but that's not going to be compelling for a lot of sales prospects because as you're talking, they're fighting with you in their head with their own data, statistics, arguments, and their own personal experiences.

What's missing from that is emotion. As soon as we start bringing emotion in with an idea, we begin to trip up the way the brain might logically think of reasons not to do something. Like if I am emotionally attached to a product I know I rationally can't afford- a red Tesla Model S for example- my brain will start to come up with reasons it actually is a smart investment in order to rationalize the purchase.

So in thinking about how we can use emotions in sales pitches, it isn't about manipulation but about how we can set up an audience to be receptive to what we're saying. And one of the best ways to bring out emotions in sales pitches is by using stories. What did a current customer want to achieve before they started working with you? What was standing in their way? And how did your product help them solve this challenge and become a hero within their organization? If a prospect can relate to this story and to the customer, it will hopefully bring out an emotion in them, meaning they will be more receptive to doing business with you.

It will also help people remember you and your product for far longer than they would have otherwise. According to the London School of Business, when people hear statistics alone, they retain only 5% to 10% of what they hear. When the statistic is coupled with a picture related to it, retention jumps to 25%. When stories are used to convey that same information, retention jumps to 65% to 70%.

So go write and tell more stories and stop distracting people with busy PowerPoints that will bore them to death.

Hello, loyal blog readers! Sorry for the lack of posts lately, as I've been busy editing my novel for the 1,000th time, this time working to incorporate higher stakes and tension into the story. As I mentioned in a previous post, I attended a children's book writing seminar in the fall and really appreciated their take on the importance of stakes within a story.

In defining the implications of stakes, one speaker put it like this: if your character doesn't achieve their goal, they will either suffer a personal defeat (i.e., Sebastian doesn't end up with Mia in La La Land and his heart is broken) or a larger, more global defeat that affects others (i.e. the Avengers fail to stop Thanos in Avengers: Infinity War and millions of people disappear). And ideally, there is a race against time, like Rose and Jack trying to escape the Titanic before it sinks.

So as I think back to what has been missing from my novel, stakes and tension rise to the top. My main character has two main goals: 1) get the girl (I personally think the stakes are high enough there already) and 2) get his book onto The New York Times Best Sellers List in order to fulfill his deceased dad's lifelong dream. There was no real urgency or race against time with the second goal and I didn't feel the "why" behind the stakes were strong enough, so I took a pass at raising the stakes over the past few weeks. Below are a few paragraphs from Chapter 1 that give a good overview of what I came up with. I'd love to hear your thoughts!

From The Frequent Missteps of J.D. Buckles:

"I'm a...I'm a...uh writer," I stuttered, appalled by my date's behavior.

"So are you in public relations or something or do you work for like a magazine?"

"Well, I'm kind of writing a book," I said, as I thought of the thirty rejection emails I had received from agents and editors over the past few months for a book that my deceased dad was actually supposed to write. He swore over and over again in his last month that the story idea that he had recently plotted out would allow him to finally accomplish his lifelong dream of getting published. After his sudden passing from a massive heart attack five years ago, I had made a promise to him during his funeral that I would take on his dream as my own and find a way to see the Buckles name in print.

Now when I made that promise to my dad, it included a timestamp: I would get a publishing deal by what would have been his 50th birthday. This was an age milestone that had greatly distressed my father, as his own dad, an aspiring author himself, had died of a stroke at 50 without a single publishing deal. As my dad crept into his mid-forties, he regularly declared that he would, "NOT let another Buckles man enter into his 50's as an unpublished writer!"

While he avoided that fate through death, I was not willing to let this multi-generational writing slump continue, and swore to my father and grandfather that I would achieve publishing glory by the date over which my dad had obsessed: Christmas Day 2010...which was now just 16 days away. As a novice novelist with zero original ideas, I decided to write my novel using the basic story outline my dad had raved about in order to accomplish this goal. But given the fact that I had yet to receive anything more than form rejections from agents and editors, I realized that perhaps, just like the other Buckles men before me, I was destined for failure.

Sometimes in life, you are on a path that seems certain, one that you've built your identity around in many ways, and then that path is suddenly unavailable to you. Maybe you are now facing unemployment or the end of a relationship or the passing of a loved one. How do you move on and start rebuilding your life?

I've just had one of those life-altering months and needed to figure that out for myself. For me, in order to begin reclaiming my identity, I felt I needed to lean into the thing that makes me come alive more than anything else, and that's playing an original song in front of a captive (and forgiving) audience. So hello Starry Plough open mic!

I've been playing open mics for over 16 years at this point, starting with my awkward debut performance of a song about living with my parents as an adult and trying to meet women. People actually applauded at the end of the song, despite numerous forgotten words and the deer-in-headlights look I displayed during the entirety of my performance. That's the thing I've noticed about almost every open mic I've been to: as long as you have the courage to walk up on stage and give it your best, people will support you and build you up.

And that's exactly what I needed on Tuesday night, so thanks fellow Starry Plough open mic performers. There was no other place I'd have rather been.

I've spent the last few years trying to come up with a big dream, something that would inspire me to get out of bed every morning and bust my ass. Publishing a book has been a creative dream of mine for quite some time, but for some reason, it hasn't gotten me to really take action and send out more than 15 submissions to agents and publishers. What was missing? Is the dream impractical? Or maybe the problem is that it isn't big and audacious enough to really get my juices flowing.

Jim Collins popularized a term in business called a Big Hairy Audacious Goal (BHAG), which is a "long-term goal that everyone in a company can understand and rally behind. BHAGs are meant to excite and energize people in a way that quarterly targets and lengthy missions statements often fail to." This is a goal that should cause everyone to initially say, "you've got to be shitting me," but the idea of it is so inspiring, that they ultimately rally around it and find a way to make it happen.

So if my dream to publish a book one day isn't a Big Hairy Audacious Goal, what is? How about giving a Ted Talk in 5 years. My initial reaction upon thinking this? "Who the heck am I to give a Ted Talk?" And "You've got to be shitting me." Good start right there!

This excites me and energizes me for a number of reasons: I loooove presenting. I've thought about being a teacher all my life. In order to give this Ted Talk, I would need to have accomplished quite a few things, as not just anybody is asked to give one. So that would mean I would probably need to have published at least one book, maybe have started a podcast, get this blog to go viral, start an ambitious non-profit that contributes to the world in some way, etc.

So how do I go from where I am now, an unpublished author working on a creativity blog that hardly anyone reads, to giving a Ted Talk? That's a topic for another day. Cause right now, I'm still kind of in the "you've got to be shitting me" stage.

I recently re-watched Simon Sinek's 2009 Ted Talk about finding your "why," which really motivated me a little while back to come up with my personal "why" and inspired me to start this blog so that I could learn from others what drives them to create.

He says in his talk that it is critical for people (and organizations) to get crystal clear about their "why," because that is ultimately what gets them to wake up inspired to do what it is they do (instead of hitting the snooze button four times) and return home fulfilled at the end of the day, feeling as though they are contributing toward something greater than themselves.

And after discovering your why, you can then think about your "how" and then finally your "what." How are you able to share your why with the world? And what is it that you are offering?

As I watched Simon's video yesterday, I thought back to a conversation I had over the weekend with my friend, Alex Wallash, one of the founders of The Rare Barrel brewery in Berkeley and basically the captain of our 2019 Burning Man camp, Planet Awesome. Alex told me that his "why" in creating his beer was his strong desire to bring people together so that he and others can live in the present moment.

What I really admire about Alex and what made me think of him as I was watching the Ted Talk video is Alex's ability to bring people together through a number of different "how's" and "what's", not just through his delicious sour beer or his beautiful brewery (pic below).

Alex is also a DJ and his musical "why" is exactly the same as his beer brewing "why." He is creating music to bring people together so that he and others can live in the present moment. And help everyone dance their faces off. And...as captain of our Burning Man camp, he brought his friends and his sisters together on the Playa so that we could experience his favorite place on earth.

So when you are able to get crystal clear on your "why" like Alex has, not just for your creativity, but also for your life, it becomes your purpose, your cause, your belief about how the world should be. You will wake up inspired to help create that world and hopefully return home fulfilled at the end of the day, feeling as though you've made some small contribution toward that cause through your various "how's" and "what's." And then it will be time to celebrate at a place like The Rare Barrel, where Alex will be bringing people together with his music and sour beer.

I've never thought of myself as a photographer. And that's not like the way I write a lot, but still often don't really consider myself a writer because I haven't achieved traditional success. I don't consider myself a photographer because I rarely ever take photographs.

But I've aspired to change that with this blog and catch people doing creative things during my day and share those moments with the world. To do that, I've gone out and asked myself a question similar to the one that Dewitt Jones asks himself every time he picks up his camera: "what's creative about this?"

What I've enjoyed about this activity is not just the dopamine rush that comes from my social media validation, but also the way it changes my mindset as I go about my day. I'm not just trudging along from home to work and then back again. I'm searching for what is creative in the world and it's giving my daily commute a purpose.

This is exactly what portrait photographer, Annie Leibovitz, said in her Master Class about why individuals should consider taking up photography: "It's actually a wonderful medium for a young person to just go out and discover themselves and discover the world around them and it gives them permission to go out and look and have a purpose and observe."

Now, I've only taken a few photos so far, so I obviously need to improve in my ability to recognize and celebrate creativity, but as Dewitt Jones said in his Ted Talk, "The more I just went out and celebrated the best in humanity, the more I could see it." So I just need to keep going out and asking myself the same question: what's creative about this?

And if I still can't see it, I might just need to veer off the traditional path I take to find an answer to the question. Which is what I did today when I discovered this neighborhood spookiness creator a quarter mile from my house. Shut up, inner skeptic. I'm posting it to Instagram anyway.

I've watched this inspiring video from National Geographic photographer, Dewitt Jones, about five times in the last few days. I honestly feel like it should be my alarm, the soundtrack of my morning, and the thing that welcomes me into a day full of possibilities. Dewitt talks about the "why" of National Geographic, which ultimately became the why of not only his professional career but also the why of his life:

"What they charged me with every time they sent me out was to celebrate what was right with the world, rather than wallowing in what was wrong with it."

Such a simple concept, but so difficult in execution! I actually watched the video this morning before heading off to work, intent on finding what was magical about my drive to the Fruitvale BART station in Oakland...and five minutes in, I found myself screaming at why the heck they decided to do construction on literally the entire Fruitvale stretch of International Blvd. on the same day, backing up traffic for a quarter-mile. Like seriously! Wouldn't it make sense to space it out and...

Oh yeah, see there I go again. Dewitt! Help!

"The more I just went out and celebrated the best in humanity, the more I could see it."

Ah yes, so like everything else, it takes practice. It's so easy to get distracted with things that are going wrong with our lives, whether it be problems at work or politics or the freaking traffic on International Blvd. But we always have the option of taking a deep breath and asking the same questions Dewitt asks himself each time he picks up his camera: "What's there to celebrate? What's right with it?"

I attended a local writing workshop yesterday that was put on by the awesome Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators. There is A LOT to unpack from the workshop, but I thought I'd start with one of the first sessions I attended, How to Write the Perfect Elevator Pitch. The facilitator, acclaimed literary agent Stephen Fraser, said that the point of the elevator pitch is to help the writer and agent make it easier for non-literary people (i.e. sales reps) to talk about our books.

Now, I initially thought this jumped like 18 steps ahead of where I currently am as a writer. My agent equipping sales reps with an elevator pitch about my story? Yeah, first I need an agent. Then a publishing firm has to agree to take on my book. Then said publishing firm must be big enough to have sales reps in the field ready to talk about my project. And once all of those things are in place, sure, then I'll think about an elevator pitch.

But then Stephen mentioned that the first part of creating a pitch is to succinctly describe the essence of the story. What's it about? What does it accomplish? Why did you write it? That last part obviously connected with me, given the theme of this blog.

Wouldn't it be helpful, I wondered, to come up with a rough pitch of your story before you actually start writing it? Obviously, you should have the freedom to change the story during the writing process and the pitch doesn't have to include specific plot points, but it could get at the essence of the story. What message are you trying to convey to your reader?

Something like: "This is a story of female empowerment" or "This is a story about celebrating what's right with the world." And then describe at a high-level how your story will accomplish that. I'd imagine this pre-story pitch would help you stay focused on your goal for the project as you create it (Stephen seemed to agree when I suggested it to him after his session).

So, after I finish with the brainstorming exercise I'm currently going through and choose my next story idea, I'm going to start with this exercise before writing the first word. And WDYC blog followers, you'll be the first to see it when it's finished...

Creating an experience has been on my mind since I went to The Soiled Dove show in Oakland over the weekend. Basically, this was Cirque du Soleil meets a burlesque show meets Burning Man. With amazing food and drinks that were served by waiters and waitresses who ended up being THE FREAKING PERFORMERS OF THE SHOW, and were "some of the nation's most acclaimed acrobats, aerial artists, contortionists, and circus sideshow acts, an array of unique fire performers, a bevy of gifted thespians, and a barrage of the most enticing go-go's."

So yeah, possibly a little overqualified to serve me my delicious curry soup, but that surprise and awe and wonder the audience felt when these individuals proceeded to fly through the air and contort their bodies into positions that are still making me cringe was exactly the point. It was all about their dedication to creating a truly incredible and memorable experience.

It reminds me of a video I saw from magician Dan White about creating experiences that people will always cherish. He says that at the core of all of these experiences is wonder, which is "that sense of amazement that you get when you see something beautiful, something unfamiliar, something inexplicable. It's the root of all art."

So how do you create wonder and give people these experiences? According to Dan, you can design it with just four ingredients: mystery, anticipation, preparation, and surprise. For Dan, mystery is pretty easy. What mind-blowing trick is he going to perform next? And he said he must anticipate problems people may have before they happen.

One example he gave is anticipating that someone will be hungry and then preparing by doing the research around what this person likes to eat and practicing A TON around executing the trick. So when the person finally says, "I'm hungry," Dan can ask, "Well, what would you like to eat?" And that person will then say, "A ham sandwich," leading Dan to say, "Surprise! There's a ham sandwich in your pocket."

There is a whole lot more wonder in this example than if Dan had just told the person there was somehow a sandwich in their pocket. Kind of creepy actually. The story and build-up really matter when creating wonder.

How then did The Soiled Dove create wonder? I, unfortunately, wasn't asked to come watch them practice before the show, but I do have some guesses. For mystery, that big top in the middle of Uptown Oakland has been grabbing my attention for over a year and leading me to try to figure out what the heck goes on in there.

For anticipation, they probably expected that we would just assume that our servers were just our servers and not SOME OF THE NATION'S MOST ACCLAIMED ACROBATS. And before the performers ever entered that big top, I'm pretty sure they had spent thousands of hours preparing by practicing to be the best at what they do, so when they eventually did fly through the air and contort their bodies on Friday night, yeah, I was pretty surprised. And filled with wonder.

"Everything you read, things that you write, things that you listen to, people you encounter, all go on the compost heap, and will rot down, and produce beautiful stories."

This quote is from Neil Gaiman's incredible Master Class. Basically he is saying here that our stories pull from all of our experiences, as well as older stories we've written that maybe never materialized into a finished product. And that's where I am right now, taking a story I've been working on for the past few weeks and throwing it into the compost heap.

It was a decent idea- a story about a Dream Maker who only appeared to people who believed in a life beyond the norm. And he would magically show up and hand them a blue envelope with a dream inside that gave them permission to explore their passions instead of just resigning to be a lawyer or a businessman or something else that didn't inspire them. Kind of like Santa Claus for nomadic 20-somethings.

But as I looked at my half-finished story, I realized that it was pretty much a jumbled mess. And I had no idea where I wanted to go with it and didn't really feel inspired to finish it. Now, I'm a big believer in continuing along until you finish a project, as it trains your mind not to quit too early. I typically wonder halfway through a story where I'm going with it, only to eventually push through and come up with a pretty solid ending and create a decent finished product.

This time, though, I'm just not feeling it and want to put the story in the compost heap and use it to help fertilize a new story that I'm actually excited about. And the exercise of writing this story, even if it's never published, will help me grow as a writer and contribute to something beautiful in the future.

"It's the possibility of having a dream come true that makes life interesting."

I love this quote from The Alchemist, a book I haven't read in years, but really want to revisit. I have found the statement to be true when working on many of my creative projects. It's not necessarily about actually achieving a dream, it's that hope, that possibility of achieving it that gets me to wake up early and write the next sentence. And then after I'm finished, the reality hits me…I will have to send my story out to an agent or publishing firm to achieve my dream. Ugh. Literally my least favorite thing.

But while I'm writing, I envision with perfect clarity a morning BART ride to San Francisco where I see a person reading a story…my story…from across the jammed packed sardine carriage and then watch them laugh out loud and feel the urgent need to share it with their friend. And I love that dream. I might like that dream even more than I would actually like seeing it happen in reality, because sometimes reality can be a bit of a letdown.

It's kind of like a vacation where you do all the planning and stay awake at night thinking about how magical the trip will be. And then you get there and your bag gets lost and the taxi driver almost kills you on the way to your hotel and then those college kids in the room next to you won't shut the f up and then it rains four out of five days. Still likely a great trip overall, of course, but the possibility, that dream you had before you left…now that was something special.

In terms of creativity dreams, I've heard published authors and illustrators talk about how their first thought after they "made it" was…is this really all there is? Now hopefully when I achieve my dream, it's more meaningful than that and I will relish the moment as much as I have the possibility of it. But for now, all I have is that possibility and that is definitely making life more interesting for me.

I often struggle with who I'm writing for in my stories. Or more accurately, who I should be targeting with them in order to get published. Outside of a few funny adult picture books like "All My Friends Are Dead" and "Go the F**k to Sleep," I personally haven't seen a huge market for them, so I've tried to write for a younger audience. However, since I don't have kids and don't really interact that much with humans under 22, I really can't help but think of adults when writing my stories and the finished product is often something that isn't exactly a children's story and also isn't really a story for adults.

And I sometimes get down about my inability to just focus on a target age group and write a damn story for them, but then think back to Stephen Colbert's 2012 interview of the late Maurice Sendak, author of Where the Wild Things Are, in which Sendak said, "I don't write children's books. I write, and somebody says, 'That's for children.'"

I love that. I believe his point was that if there is a story that doesn't yet exist and you really want it to, then write it! But don't write it for children or teenagers or adults. Just write the story the way you want to write it and leave it up to the book marketers or the world to figure out who it is for.

Now, the hard part is that unlike Maurice Sendak, I've never had access to a publishing firm's book marketers or even an agent, so I need to convince people of influence that a certain target market will buy my book. But if I truly have a great story to share, I think my odds of doing that are probably higher than if I were to dumb down my story to appeal to four-year-olds. Because you know what? Adults are often the ones reading those stories to their kids and I'm sure they'd love to come across one with heart and humor and a theme that they can relate to on a deeper level, even if their kid is just focused on the funny picture of balloon flying up to the moon.

Over the past couple of months, I've been thinking about my loves of creativity and Krav Maga and wondering if there is some sort of overlap between the two I could discuss here. But is Krav Maga really creative or is it just a way to defend yourself against an attacker?

But this week, I had the opportunity to sit down with the lead instructor of my gym, Carl, and a few of my friends who are considering becoming instructors. Carl talked about his desire to create more of a Krav community and how, after an exodus of experienced practitioners from the gym after it became more focused on cardio than self-defense, he wanted to quickly train up people who had been coming for a few years so that newer people had someone they could look up to and learn from.

And then the group talked about creative warm-up drills we could incorporate that would introduce Krav Maga movements the instructors would be teaching later in the class (kind of like wax on/wax off from Karate Kid).

So yeah, there it was. Using creativity in my Krav Maga gym. Twice in one night! But I guess it shouldn't have been that much of a surprise, because if you really look for it, there is creativity in everything people are doing.

I just got back from my first improv class after a three-month hiatus and had a great conversation afterward with a guy named Juan, who I had met about a year ago in my first-ever class. Juan mentioned that the reason he was taking improv was mostly to help him develop his listening skills. He originally thought that in order to contribute something to a conversation, he needed to focus on coming up with a great response…while the person was still talking to him. Yeah, me too, Juan. Me too.

But after taking a number of improv classes over the past couple of years, he has learned that in order to come up with a great response, he has to actually be listening to what the person speaking to him is saying…until they completely finish talking. Easier said than done, I've found!

In improv, if you are standing there brainstorming about a clever line during a scene, you're basically screwed because your partner could literally throw something to you out of left field. Like, you both could be standing on a baseball outfield and he or she could decide to throw a giant octopus at you. If you've been brainstorming about a funny thing you are going to say when a baseball comes your way, you either won't know what to do when those eight tentacles start sucking on your legs because you haven't been paying attention to the conversation, or you are going to mindlessly swat the giant octopus off and move ahead with your planned "funny" line.

So the best plan of attack is to listen carefully to your partner and play off whatever it is they are saying. And ultimately try to make them look good because when both of you are up there having fun and supporting each other and LISTENING, you are much more likely to produce a great scene. And yeah, that sounds a little like the foundation of a great friendship or relationship, as well.

I mentioned yesterday the idea I read in The Art of War about showing up every day like I would for a paying job. And here I am showing up in Breckinridge, CO from the phone charging station in my hotel lobby!

I have been thinking about this a lot since posting yesterday. Do I actually need to show up and write seven days a week to consider myself a professional? Is six ok? Five? I mean, in a real job, you do have weekends and vacations and taking a break and stepping away from your work for a brief period of time can be incredibly beneficial.

I personally have found that setting short-term goals is really helpful and if I am able to meet my goals writing three days a week, then great! At least I know I am moving forward in my writing and am continuing to create stories. Some goals that I have found helpful in the past have been to write: 1,000 words a week for my novel, one new picture book story a month (for about six months), and one new song every three months (for three or four years).

I currently don't have any real writing goals, so it may make sense to for me now to just try to write something new every day, even just a few sentences. Or maybe I should get back to setting goals around what I want to accomplish with my stories. But that is for tomorrow. My phone is now charged and it's time to explore Breckinridge…

I was feeling pretty good this morning about progress I had made last night on a short story. And that prompted me to want to write a post here about momentum, about how once you get the ball rolling it's easy to keep going, but once you stop, it's incredibly hard to get moving again. And how, after spending the weekend not writing and initially saying things like, "do I actually need to write if nobody is going to notice?," I now feel like I'm flowing again and writing is simple!

Only it's not right now. I got home from work, turned on the news…then watched some Youtube videos…then ate some chocolate and drank a glass of wine…and then realized I haven't packed yet for my trip to Colorado tomorrow morning. Does it really matter if I just take a few days off and write when I get back on Sunday? Maybe not. But maybe it actually does, even if nobody else notices. I think it might matter to my subconscious as it is trying to figure out if I am just fooling around here or if I am taking this writing thing seriously.

As Steven Pressfield says in his book, The War of Art: "To the amateur, the game is his avocation. To the pro it's his vocation. The amateur plays part-time, the professional full-time. The amateur is a weekend warrior. The professional is there seven days a week."

Basically, if I want to think of myself as a professional, I have to show up every day (or at least most days), even if my brain is done thinking for the night and I don't have any clue what I could possibly write that people would want to ever read. If this were my actual work, would I just call up my boss and say I'm too tired to come in or I just don't feel inspired or motivated? If you said yes to this, let me know where you work! I want to apply! But that probably wouldn't fly at most jobs and it probably shouldn't fly with my writing either.

So here I am, showing up. It feels good actually. And with each word I type, I can start to feel the flow coming back. Time to pull out my notebook and continue on with the story…

I started this project with the idea that I would kind of replicate what Humans of New York is doing, but focus only on why people are creating. And do that pretty much through Instagram. But as I did that, I found the conversations with people around why they are creating a little forced and uncomfortable (I often pulled out my phone mid-conversation to record people). Not surprisingly, I quickly lost interest in having these types of interviews and pretty much stopped posting.

But I'd love to get back into sharing something on Instagram! What though? Pics of things I find creative? Shots of people doing something creative? A collection of things my dog has taken off the counter and creatively chewed up?

I took two breaks at work today (very quick breaks if anyone from work is reading this) to walk the streets of SF, hoping to spot something that would spark an idea. And I did the same thing on the BART ride home. While I didn't find anything I wanted to capture on my camera, I did notice that I was paying attention to my surroundings a lot more. And that's something! Maybe I should have taken a selfie of me pretending not to stare at my phone for once.

Tomorrow is another day of work, meaning another two BART rides and likely a couple more quick strolls around the city. So a number of opportunities to catch somebody doing something creative. Fingers crossed.

Over the past few months, I've thought more and more about why I actually want to write when the odds of traditional success are severely stacked against me. As books like the incredible Man's Search for Meaning will tell you, an individual with a clear purpose in life can overcome anything in pursuit of their dream…even the Holocaust (I really can't recommend this book enough if you haven't read it). Understanding the power of purpose, I have tried to put together my life's "why"…which is a difficult task!

With the help of Simon Sinek and my friend, Allie Stark, here's my first take on it: To connect with others to help them find more acceptance, belonging, and joy in their lives. Or to help lift them up if I'm being quick about it.

Awesome! Tick that off the list. Life purpose all figured out. So…what do I do with this? Obviously I can continue to write stories that lift people up…but actually work harder at sharing them with the world, rather than just storing them on Google Drive and promising to do something with them "someday." And this blog is another good way to connect with others. Maybe a story of an inspirational person I meet or one of my ramblings will create a spark within someone that will help them find more acceptance, belonging, or joy within their lives. So maybe I should actually let people outside of a few friends and family know that I am doing this! I don't think I'm quite ready to click the "share to Facebook" link that will pop up when I publish this post, but hopefully soon.

Now is there something else I could do to help further my purpose beyond writing? Something related to my sales job at an education technology company? Or a volunteer opportunity? Or maybe create an event like a talent show? Time to brainstorm! Anyway, that's where I am right now.

Just finished season 1 of My Dad Wrote a Porno. I mean…wow. I haven't laughed that hard at a podcast in…ever? If you haven't listened to it, here's the summary from the site: "Imagine if your dad wrote a dirty book. Most people would try to ignore it - but not Jamie Morton. Instead, he decided to read it to the world in this groundbreaking comedy podcast. With the help of his best mates, James Cooper and Alice Levine, Jamie reads a chapter a week and discovers more about his father than he ever bargained for."

Jamie's dad, pseudonymed Rocky Flintstone, likely wrote this book, Belinda Blinked, thinking he was truly penning sexy erotic fiction that would arouse his readers. But it ended up being a hilarious comedy. Jamie's son and his friends publicly roasted every single phrase in the book over months…and based on comments from Jamie, it seems as if Rocky loved every minute of it.

This makes me think of the 2017 film, The Disaster Artist, which chronicles the unlikely friendship between budding actors Tommy Wiseau and Greg Sestero, which results in the production of Wiseau's 2003 film The Room, widely considered one of the worst films ever made. Tommy allegedly made the movie thinking it would be a serious drama, but it ended up being a comedy cult classic. Over time, Tommy, much like Rocky Flintstone, truly began to embrace this unintentional new genre.

When we create art, often we have a grand, and sometimes stubborn, vision for how others will and should receive it. At least I do. But maybe it's helpful to stop taking ourselves and our art so seriously and accept the reception we receive, even if people completely mock what we put out. I mean, hey, at least they are paying attention. And laughing.

I received this email this morning from Sam Sifton, food editor of The New York Times, in his daily cooking newsletter:

"It is a somber day in New York City, in Washington, D.C., and Shanksville, Penn., all across the nation, everywhere touched by the attacks of 18 years ago. I can't help but recall, each time, how blue the sky was that day and how tightly I held my week-old child in horror at what I'd done, bringing life into this world gone mad. I cooked later that day and served what I'd made to my family. That act sustained me and sustains me still — this vain hope that if only we make food for one another and share it with open hearts we can push forward together in understanding, and together maybe make the world a better place. I don't know if that works. I believe it does. So I'll continue to do it, seeking grace in the meals, in the work of making them."

18 years since 9/11. I remember that day so well, as it was my second day on a Department of Defense consulting project at Ft. Belvoir, just outside DC…and about 20 miles from the Pentagon. Given I was working on a defense base, they quickly closed it down for the day, and I drove by the Pentagon on the way home. I'll never forget that smell or the feeling of vulnerability as I watched smoke billowing from our military's headquarters. When I finally got to my small studio apartment, I remember crouching in front of my TV alone, nervously eating what was likely a microwavable macaroni and cheese dinner directly out of the plastic container (pretty standard for that time in my life, really). I mean, there would certainly be more attacks, right? It really felt like a hijacked plane would crash into another national monument at any minute.

In reading the quote above, it makes me think of how much more comforted I would have been had I surrounded myself with friends, family, and a home-cooked meal that night. As Sam said, meals bring us together and allow us to open our hearts rather than live in fear. Good for you, Sam, for using such a terrible event to drive you to create such amazing food and inspire others to do the same.

In my blog post yesterday, I wrote a sentence that began with, "As a writer." I actually felt a little uncomfortable using "writer" as a word to describe myself. Am I really? I mean, writing accounted for precisely $0 on my W-2 last year and the idea of getting published one day often seems like a long-shot at best. Given that, can I really claim to be a writer?

This question made me think of a Nick Hornby quote I came across a little while back:

"One of the questions that is probably troubling you at the moment is this: How do I know whether I'm a writer? And the question can only be answered with another question: Well, do you write? If you don't, you're not. If you do, you are. There's nothing else to it. If, in a month's time, you have produced a novel, or a chunk of a novel, and you have never written before, then you will have changed your status, simply and crucially. Ah, but are you a good writer? Because that's probably the question that best articulates the nagging doubt that has held you up hitherto. And I'm afraid you will never know the answer to that one. No writer does."

Over the last month, I've made a commitment to writing something every day, even if it's just one terribly uncreative phrase, and I've usually been able to meet this goal. So according to Nick's definition, I am, in fact, a writer!

But am I a good writer? I know a number of literary agents who would respond with a resounding, "No!" to that question. But I also know a lot of people who like my stories and really connect with them. So the answer is…maybe! As Nick said, I'll never know for sure and it really depends who you are asking. I guess the key point is to continue to work on my craft and stop worrying about whether other people think I'm "good." If I instead focus on growth by writing every day, then at least I will be able to say that I'm a writer, and know for sure that it's true.

I just finished the Digital Minimalism audiobook on the way into work this morning (I'm listening to audiobooks much more than I'm reading these days), and really liked one of the final sentences. The author, Cal Newport, said that with technology overtaking most of our lives, the ultimate goal should be for you to say confidently, "because of technology, I'm a better human being than I ever was before."

That's a strong statement! Especially given the massive amounts of time I and many others spend surfing the web, streaming pointless Youtube videos, and scrolling through social media (Cal said that the average Facebook user spends 50 minutes a day on social media sites). Does this make me a better human being? Not likely!

The book references a lot of different ideas for more effectively using technology, from removing social media apps from our phones to becoming incredibly disciplined and intentional about the way we use technology to even going on a 30-day technology purge to help you understand why exactly you need it at all (I feel the shakes coming on already).

As a writer, I have tried to move a bit more towards pen and paper, constantly bringing a small notebook with me wherever I go. But the notebook is pretty much blank as I still find myself gravitating towards typing my stories in Google Docs or a Gmail note, both of which I can access on either my phone or computer, allowing me to continue on with a story or blog post wherever I am.

But can't I also do that with a notebook, as long as I remember to bring that with me? Maybe I'm just making excuses to avoid pulling myself away from the all-too-alluring glow of my computer and phone screens.

If I'm not willing to move over to a notebook just yet, maybe I can take Cal's advice and be more disciplined while I'm writing by turning off wifi so that I'm not tempted to spend my entire "creativity time" reading some BS article about why the Phillies have no realistic shot at making the playoffs (I disagree!). And then if I'm at a place where I need to research something, save the story so I can access it elsewhere, or am finally ready to share the story with the world, I can go ahead and turn that wifi back on. And then I might just be able to say that because of technology, I'm a better human being than I ever was before. Maybe...

Last night, I performed at a local comedy open mic with a story about Burning Man. I had told this story many times before at other venues, but I still felt my voice shake and my hand tremble as I held the microphone. Despite my nervousness, I got through it and even got a few decent laughs.

After the show, I asked my friend Brian for feedback. He's done a lot more performing than I have and always has helpful things to say. But this time, he said something that really stuck with me.

"You know what, man? You're up there. That's all that matters, really. Most people are too scared to even try."

And he's right. So many people have stories they want to tell, jokes they want to share, songs they want to sing. But most of them never do because they're terrified of being judged or looking foolish. The fact that you're willing to get up there and try, even if you're shaking like a leaf, puts you ahead of so many others.

So if you're thinking about performing at an open mic, sharing your writing publicly, or putting yourself out there in any creative way—just do it. You're already winning just by trying.

I was sitting at home alone last night, completely worn out from spending a week at Burning Man and then starting a new job, and I decided to have a quiet Netflix and chill night. Hoping to up my creativity game, I turned on The Creative Mind documentary and really appreciated one key point that I've been thinking about since. It was a quote from Nathan Myhrvold, who is a former exec at Microsoft and also a cookbook writer, nuclear scientist, and researcher of dinosaurs and asteroids. He said that a big spark of creativity for him is "taking ideas from one place and applying them another place."

That's a very simple concept, but I see how Nathan's ability to live in a number of different worlds at once has allowed him to bring innovative ideas to each. It reminds me of how Steve Jobs audited a calligraphy class in college taught by a Trappist monk, and then brought those ideas to Apple. And now we have tons of beautiful fonts on our computers (are Wingdings 1, 2, and 3 really all necessary, Steve?).

The documentary kept stressing the idea of getting off the path of least resistance and trying something new. With specialization, we are learning more and more about less and less, meaning we aren't thinking like Nathan- bringing in new ideas from completely different fields and experiences.

But I'm also thinking back to my blog post from yesterday about a lack of time, which is a reality many creative people face, especially those with kids. With jobs that expect us to be specialized and get really good in one specific field, and with enormous responsibilities at home, where then is the time to write a cookbook or research dinosaurs or invent a new nuclear reactor?

Maybe, though, the bar doesn't have to be that high. Perhaps we can just explore more in our own neighborhood and PUT DOWN OUR DAMN PHONES so we are actually engaged and paying attention. Is there a museum you can check out with your kids? A creativity podcast you can listen to on the way to work? Or an art class (at a place like Mischief) or an improv dojo you can drop in on that will allow you to temporarily get off the path of least resistance and learn a new skill? Or, if you are incredibly tired like I was last night and opt for Netflix and chill, maybe you can check out a documentary that will help you look at things differently and inspire you to be more creative.

And honestly, as I'm writing this, I'm realizing that even reading a fiction novel transports us into a new world that may inspire our creativity. So I guess the point is do something new that stretches our perspective and don't just re-watch the same America's Got Talent Youtube videos over and over again like I often do. Kodi Lee is pretty amazing though…

Going back to the conversation I had earlier this week with Laura, co-owner of the Mischief gift shop in Oakland, she mentioned one theme that really got me thinking: time. The massive amounts of time it takes for her to manage the store and lead the art classes, the time that takes away from her ability to create jewelry, something she did frequently in the past and loved, and the time it takes for the artists she supports to create things and how much they are then willing to sell them for in the store (not a lot apparently!).

So why is Laura bothering to run the store when it's cutting into the hours she could be spending with her family or creating jewelry or anything else? And why doesn't she just find another job that likely would have a more stable cash flow? She told me that it's really all about the impact she can make in her local community (she lives right down the street from the store). A few people attending her classes might ignite a creative spark that could remain lit for the rest of their lives. Holy crap! What a purpose! Also, for the local artists who sell their products in her store, she is giving them an opportunity to begin to make a living doing what they love, even if they are initially selling a product for just $20 after 40 hours of work (an actual situation Laura mentioned). Hey, I've written a novel and a number of other stories and have received exactly $0 from them, so I'd take $20!

For Laura, the purpose of the store is not necessarily about profit (which isn't a ton right now but improving) or the ability to show off jewelry she has made. It's about the contribution she can make to artists in her community. And for her, the time it takes to make that happen seems well worth it.

So a little over a month ago, when I thought this blog was basically just going to be me interviewing people about why they love to creative, I decided to walk into a small "gift shop and creative hub" down the street from me to talk to the owners about why they opened the store. But then I very quickly chickened out. It just seemed like too much pressure! And who was I to interview them? I mean, I had published exactly one blog post before walking into the store. Not much street cred there.

Since then, I've started exploring my own creative journey a little more through this blog and don't really feel like I need to rely on interviews for my posts (Instagram is another story though. What exactly am I doing with that???). Which means…less pressure in talking to other people about their creative journeys and that allowed me to easily walk in and start up a 15-minute conversation with Laura, one of the owners. And it was awesome!

No straight interview, but she had a really interesting story and brought up a number of ideas and a creativity podcast that I'm going to dedicate some time to in future posts (I'm trying to post something every day or two, so don't want to spill everything all at once!). For now though, I'll just say that I'm at least feeling a bit more confident about this project than I did last month. And that growth feels pretty darn good.

Also, I'm gonna sign up for one of her classes…stop by too if you are near Oakland!

Here is the first version of the very short story I referenced in my last post, inspired by the "dream" I received at The No Sleep Hotel. The goal here was to write a story about letting go and dancing with our fear rather than fighting it. As always, I welcome any feedback/reactions people may have!

Dancing in the Waves

I found myself clutching onto the side of the boat, petrified of letting go and falling into the violent sea.

"Please, somebody save me!" I shouted into the darkness. "The waves are menacing and will surely crush me!"

But as I looked up to the moon for help, its light cast a spell on the tides and the waves rocked with fury.

"Please!!!" I again begged, fighting each of the sea's attempts to capsize me. "I can't hang on much longer!"

And with that, I was thrown into the sea and desperately grasped for my boat, for I could not remember how to swim.

All hope faded as my head crashed into the bottom of the deep sea. I let my final breath escape from my lungs and clutched a handful of sand and shells.

"At least I can stand one last time," I thought to myself as the sea began to turn black. And stand I did, thrusting myself above the water, the tide rolling gently past my waist. I looked down at the sea and saw a silhouette moving in the reflection from the moonlight, so free and full of life. And I realized that the silhouette was me, laughing and dancing in the waves.

I had a simple creative goal at Burning Man- think of at least one new story idea. Given all of the creative inspiration on the Playa, that seemed almost laughably achievable! But as the week flew by and I was approaching my final hour at Burning Man, I found myself biking around an increasing empty Black Rock City, incredibly fulfilled from my best Burn yet, but frustrated that it seemed almost certain that I would not meet my goal.

"The Playa provides!" is an almost cliched catchphrase that you often hear during Burning Man when someone is of need of something, be it food and coffee for a weary sunrise chaser, a cool place to sleep during the scorching daylight hours, or a hug from a stranger after a challenging day. But a creative breakthrough? In the final hour? Likely not in this case.

As I biked up to the dark 8:30 and A intersection, I noticed about 20 glowing bikes parked outside an inviting dome and decided to step inside and wait there for my wife to finish up her final nursing shift in the medical tent down the street. The No Sleep Hotel, as the dome was called, could have been pulled straight out of the 1920's, with a phonograph sitting on an old piano next to a man typing away on a dusty typewriter.

"Do you have a dream?" asked a woman next to me after I sat down by the piano. "Excuse me?"

"A dream. Have you received a dream yet?"

"Ummm…I don't believe so."

"Then ask the man at the front door. He'll give you the dream you need."

Typically, I would be skeptical about a woman at a bar suggesting I ask the man working the front door for a dream. I mean, the chances are pretty good this was just a prank that would result in laughter at my expense, right? But this was my final hour at Burning Man and the Playa does theoretically provide, so why not take a chance?

"One dream, please," I said to the man.

"One dream?"

"Sorry, the woman by the piano said I should ask you for a dream."

"Ah," he said as he looked over at the woman and then pulled out five dusty blue envelopes and began shuffling them. "One of these is your dream. Maybe…no…OK, this is your dream. No, wait…this one," he said and then handed me my alleged destiny.

Relieved I hadn't yet been mocked and excited about the possibility of discovering my lifelong dream, I sat back down by the piano, opened the blue envelope, and read the following passage:

"I sailed on a glittering sea, and it was land. The horizon was the edge of the earth- where it fell off, anyway. The tides of the moon's gravity made the earth roll, and it was I, dancing in the waves."

The tides of the moon's gravity made the earth roll, and it was I, dancing in the waves. That line gave me chills. I have heard so often over the last six months the idea of dancing with our fear rather than fighting it. I find the image of waves (symbolizing fear or challenges or adversity) crashing into a man and watching him gently dance with it absolutely stunning. And that image is now the ending of my new VERY short story, Dancing in the Waves. The Playa does, in fact, provide.

What a fascinating, wonderfully weird place Burning Man is. I just attended for the first time in five years (my third Burn overall) and to say I that feel newly inspired to create is just a laughable understatement. The conversations, the mind-blowing art, the music, and the time to just sit and think without the distraction of a phone have all helped me to better understand what drives people to put something new into the world, and why I want to be a member of that community of creators.

And it really is a community, even though many of us work on our projects in isolation until the "big reveal," which many times never actually happens, especially for my fellow writers and me who often feel we are dependent on a publisher in order to share our stories with the world. I personally often think of my creative projects with a wide lens- how many people can I get to read my stories? Of course, I also really hope they love them, but I want LOTS of people to love them. If just one person reads my story and is inspired by it? COMPLETE FAILURE!!! But is it really?

There are so, so many art pieces scattered throughout the Playa at Burning Man, many a long trek from anything else and the only way you would see it is by randomly biking by it on a journey to the trash fence. And these art pieces took months if not years to create! What if just a handful of people passed by one of them, decided to stop, and then took enough time to truly take in the piece. Would that have been worth it to the artist?

Of course, you'd have to ask the artist personally, but I'd bet she'd ask a follow-up question, something like, "did my art piece change the way those few people thought of the world? Or of themselves?" And I'd hope that if the answer is yes, then the artist would feel the time spent creating the piece was well worth it.

But what if only half of the people who saw it truly loved it and the rest thought it was just OK or (gasp) didn't like it? If it were me, I might race right onto the Playa with a U-Haul (of course, abiding by the 5 mph speed limit), grab the art piece, and hide it from humanity. But as people like Questlove and Seth Godin have said, you have to not only understand who you are as an artist and who your creation is for, but you also have to understand who you are not as an artist and who your creation is not for. Maybe your art project just wasn't for those people who thought it was OK or didn't like it. Let's focus on the half that loved it because it actually inspired them.

And really, if I can inspire one person with one of my stories, I really do need to put my ego aside for just a second and remember that creation isn't always about going wide and getting as many eyeballs on my work as possible. It's about going deep as well, even if that means just two inspired eyeballs.

So I feel like my story is in a decent place. Again, not perfect, but decent. So what's next? Why did I write this story in the first place? Definitely not to sit on my computer or on a blog post that only a handful of people will read (until this blog explodes that is!). The point of this particular story is to help kids (and their parents) understand that they can shine even if they aren't perfect or haven't accomplished everything they or their parents think they should have or are told their light is too bright. And to get that message across, it would be REALLY helpful to have an agent so I'm not spamming magazines and publishers with an unsolicited story. Is this the only way? Probably not. But it's the path I'm sticking with for now.

So…getting an agent. I haven't had much success with this in the past. Was it my stories? My cover letters? The agents I reached out to? Tough to say, as most of my rejection letters have been form rejections without any feedback. With the day off today and little on the agenda, I'm going to spend a few hours trying to determine where I might have gone wrong in the past and what I can do to have more success moving forward. And then send off some emails! I probably won't lead with this story, as I'm still not sure it's exactly where I want it to be, but if I don't any responses to my older stories, this one is on deck.

OK, so after sitting with the feedback from my writer's group and pushing through my resistance to again work on an old story, I was able to put together a better version of the story I had posted last week. Basically, here was the key feedback: 1) Oliver should get permission from the stars to light them up. He shouldn't just do it on his own without asking them first. That sounds a little…intrusive. 2) Star Command shouldn't tell Oliver that he only needs to light up three stars before the other stars realize they can light themselves up on their own. That should just come out in the story. And 3) we should know more about what Oliver thinks about this mission…is he excited? Worried? Freaked out?

So here is the current version. I'd still welcome feedback! Email me at jasonpdolan@gmail.com.

The Star Lighter

Oliver is a star lighter, fresh from the famous Star Lighters Academy. And just like all of his fellow lighters, Oliver's mission is to fly across the universe in search of stars whose light has dimmed. (Illustration note: Oliver receives a call while flying his space jet)

"Oliver," said star command, "we need your help. All of the stars in the Milky Way Galaxy are beginning to go dark. I know this is your first mission, but you are the closest lighter to the galaxy and we must act quickly or else every star could go dark in just a few hours. You must find a way to reignite the stars and illuminate the sky."

"Star command, Oliver here. I'm on the case." (Illustration note: Oliver's eyes bulge and he stares into space like a deer in headlights.)

"Thank you, Oliver. And good luck."

"Oh no," said Oliver. "What have I gotten myself into? Save the Milky Way Galaxy? Alone?! In a matter of hours?!!! How???"

(Illustration note: Oliver arrives in the Milky Way Galaxy)

"Uh, hello," Oliver said to a star that was nearly as black as the sky. "My name is Oliver and I'm here to light your fire!"

"Hi, Oliver. I'm Canis Majoris."

"Canis…aren't you the largest star in the whole galaxy?"

"Thanks a lot for reminding me, Oliver. Nobody wants to see my plump celestial body illuminated in the sky. Please, just let the darkness wash over me and protect me from the universe."

"Well, I think you have a heavenly body, Canis! The bigger you are, the brighter you shine. I bet all of the other stars would love to see you light up the sky."

"You really think so?"

"Oh, I know I would!" said a star to the right, as it winked at Canis. "You are far too beautiful to hide in the darkness."

(Illustration note: Canis grins and turns beat red with embarrassment)

"OK, Oliver. Go ahead."

(Illustration note: Oliver lights Canis with the flame from his torch. Just then, a dark shooting star flies past Oliver on its way to a neighboring galaxy.)

"Wait!!!" yelled Oliver as he chased after the shooting star. "What's your name?!"

"I'm not important enough for a name!" it yelled back.

"Can I at least light your fire before you go?"

"Not yet! I have to first set a speed record around the universe and then I'll finally be good enough for the other stars to notice me. Right now, I'm a nobody!"

"But don't you realize you are enough already?" asked Oliver. "Just look at how fast you are. You don't need to set a record for other stars to notice you!"

"I don't?" asked the star as it slowed down. "Oh, hey there!" yelled a group of shooting stars. "You were flying so fast we didn't even see you! What's your name?"

"Well...," said the star as it thought of a name. "You can call me...Essy."

"Hi, Essy! Nice to meet you! Want to join us? We're about to head over to the Andromeda Galaxy for an adventure."

"I'd love to!"

"Great! It's dark out there beyond the Milky Way, so you'll need to find some more light!"

"OK, Oliver. Go ahead," said Essy to Oliver.

(Illustration note: Oliver flies over to the Essy and lights it up. Essy's light soars across the galaxy. The other shooting stars smile and they all make their way on their journey).

"Hi Oliver," said a timid star hiding behind the moon. "I heard you talking to that shooting star, but don't waste your time with me. I mess everything up."

"Are you the sun?!" asked Oliver in amazement.

"I was the sun, but I just can't do it anymore. The other stars tell me I do it all wrong and shine too brightly and ruin the night."

"But the people of Earth need your light!"

"They do?"

"Yes! They need it to help them find where they are going and to keep them warm. Without you, they'll be doomed! Don't dim your light to make the other stars feel better."

"OK, Oliver." (Illustration note: Oliver flies toward the sun to light its fire).

"Actually, I remember how to do this myself," said the sun.

"Then shine proudly, light up the Earth, and show everyone what's possible!"

(Illustration note: The sun reignites its fire. Night becomes day on earth and the other stars look on with wonder and amazement and begin shining far brighter than they had before.)

"Well done, Oliver," said star command. "Well done. You have saved the stars of the Milky Way Galaxy."

"Thank you, star command, but they have saved themselves. I just helped them remember how."

Man, do I not feel like revising my latest story. I want to create something new! Something that will change lives or make people laugh! I don't want to fix what was wrong with my last story and then fix it again after people tell me the new beginning still doesn't work.

But really, if I am going to put out a story that people are really going to connect with, chances are I'm not going to get it right the first time. So I gotta lean into feedback and criticism, understand what's not working, and change it. And then change it again. And again. Boring and frustrating as it may be, this is how I'm going to become a better writer. And write a story that matters to people.

This week in my monthly writer's group session, one of the writers brought up the idea of taking a well-known Brothers Grimm fairy tail and putting a new spin on it. Like making it four sisters saving a prince instead of four brothers saving a princess. And once we removed the constraints of the original story, we were able to brainstorm new trades or powers each sister possessed instead of sticking with what the Brothers Grimm decided on. And was a dragon holding the prince hostage…or was it his male privilege? This was pretty darn fun.

It reminded me of yet another suggestion from Neil Gaiman in his Master Class: take a scene everyone is familiar with, a cliche, and twist it 45 degrees. I've always thought I had to come up with a completely original plot for each new story I've worked on and almost thought of taking from other stories as cheating in a way. In reality, sometimes this approach is even more creative and original…and a lot more fun.

OK, so maybe I'm not yet ready to have those thrilling conversations with creative folks about why they do what they do. Something is holding me back and I suspect it has to do with the fact that I am not creating much myself. So…I'm writing today for the first time in weeks. And I'm going to try to write every day, even if just a few words.

Today, I'm writing a second draft of a children's story I've been working on for months. Basically, I want people (both kids and adults) to feel like they don't have to be perfect in order to shine. I'd love to hear some feedback!

The Star Lighter

Oliver is a star lighter, fresh from the famous Star Lighters Academy. And just like all of his fellow lighters, Oliver's mission is to fly across the universe in search of stars whose light has dimmed. (Illustration note: Oliver receives a call while flying his space jet)

"Oliver," said star command, "we need your help. All of the stars in the Milky Way Galaxy are beginning to go dark. I know this is your first mission, but you are the closest lighter to the galaxy and we must act quickly or else every star could go dark in hours. If you can reignite just a few stars, other stars will remember that they too can shine brightly and we will illuminate the sky."

"Star command, Oliver here. I'm on the case."

"Thank you, Oliver. And good luck."

(Oliver travels through space to the Milky Way). "Oh, hello," said the first star he approached. (star looks meek and sad). "Did star command send you?"

"Yes, nice to meet you. My name is Oliver and I'm here to light your fire!"

"Hi, Oliver. I'm Canis Majoris. Like I told space command, nobody wants to see my plump celestial body illuminated in the sky. Please, just let the darkness wash over me and protect me from the universe."

"Well I think you have a heavenly body! The bigger you are, the brighter you shine!" yelled Oliver as he soared past the star and reignited its flame with his torch. "You are far too beautiful to hide in the darkness."

(The star smiles broadly as another star winks at it)

Just then, a dark shooting star flew past Oliver on its way to a neighboring galaxy. "Wait!!!" yelled Oliver as he chased after it. "What's your name?!"

"I'm not important enough for a name!" it yelled back.

"Can I at least light your fire before you go?"

"Not yet! I have to first set a speed record around the universe and then I'll finally be good enough for the other stars to notice me. Right now, I'm a nobody!"

"But don't you realize you are enough already?" asked Oliver. "Just look at how fast you are. You don't need to set a record for stars to notice you!"

(Oliver catches up to the star and lights it up)

"Look how you shimmer and shine!" he yelled as the star's light soared across the galaxy. (The star slows down and smiles)

"Can you call me Essy?" asked the shooting star.

"Essy it is!" said Oliver, as a group of shooting stars asked Essy to join them.

"Don't waste your time with me," yelled a timid star moving toward a black hole. "I mess everything up. The other stars tell me I do it all wrong and ruin the night."

"Oh Sirius, that's because you are the brightest of all the stars. Don't dim your light to make others feel better. Shine proudly, light up the galaxy, and show everyone what's possible!"

(Oliver reignites Sirius and it lights up the night sky. The other stars look on with wonder and amazement and begin shining far brighter than they had before.)

"Well done, Oliver," said star command. "Well done. You have saved the stars of the Milky Way Galaxy."

"Thank you, star command, but they have saved themselves. I just showed them how."

So I made my way into a small "gift shop and creative hub" down the street from my house in Oakland, hoping to have a riveting conversation with the owner about why he started the business, how the classes are going, if he'd like to appear on my blog, etc. Instead I walked in, browsed the store, and bounced within 3 minutes without even saying as much as "hello" to the owner.

I've been doing sales as a full-time job for years, so I wonder why it is so hard for me to strike up these creative conversations. Maybe it has to do with the fact that I am currently the only person who will read this blog post, outside of my occasional visitors from China (Helloooo China! I love you!!!!), only have like 80 followers on Instagram, and don't really consider this project legit just yet. What will it take for me to feel "legit" so that I can approach creative people with more confidence? 500 followers and 10 daily visits? 10,000 followers and 100 daily visits? Or maybe I can just embrace this project as something that is important to me and stop worrying about metrics that others will find impressive.

And as the author, Neil Gaiman, said in his Master Class, "The important thing is that you took the boat out, you tried and you learned. It can be just a short trip and you may not succeed, but at least you went on the trip." Thanks, Neil. I went on the trip. And I'll be back in the boat tomorrow.

Alright, it's about time to get this thing going. Post #1, the start of something big! Huge! Or maybe I'll be the only one who reads it. Who knows! And who cares, cause I feel fired up just typing this up and I gotta follow that feeling.

So what's this blog going to be about? Likely a little raw, behind-the-scenes look at my creativity journey and also an exploration into what drives other people. I'm probably a little more excited about the second part of that, as it will give me an excuse to bother people doing really inspiring work.

So…who should I talk to next? No seriously, I really don't know. What am I doing again? Is this really a good idea? Damn you, self-doubt!

OK, focus. Breathe. Let's get off the couch, drive into town, and see who I run into and where that leads…