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CREATIVITY IS A VENDING MACHINE

Creativity is like a vending machine – a vending machine painted black so you can’t see the contents. Inside is everything you’ve ever wanted to write or create. And better still, stuff you don’t even know is possible – stuff you don’t know you are capable of producing.

It’s all in the machine. You can’t see what’s in there so you’re going to have to trust me. But it’s all in there. I guarantee it.

Your job is to keep feeding the vending machine – with hours of your time. If you keep feeding it these hours, eventually you will get everything, all the contents of the machine, great and small. The items come out one at a time. But not in the order you want. The Vending Machine of Creativity has a mind of its own. The amount of hours you feed it is not necessarily reflected in what it spits out. It’s as if you put in $10 and got an apple, then put in $1 and got a microwave. Then put in $100 and got a rubber band. Then put in $3 and got a brand new laptop. Sometimes it’s frustrating, but you can’t get to the things you really want or need without getting the things in front of them out first. You just have to keep feeding the machine. It’s about quantity, not quality. The rewards are not always commensurate to the amount of time and energy you put in. But if you persist – if you keep going back for the satisfaction of effort, not the reward of achievement or excellence – you will get everything.

I have got to where I am the same way most writers I know have. Not through talent, but through bloody-minded persistence.

Nothing in this world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent.

CALVIN COOLIDGE

Kids get given all sorts of labels: I was what was known as a ‘good trier’. As a child, I was happy being a good trier; it was only later I realised it was a backhanded compliment. Many bright kids get described as ‘clever but lacks confidence’, ‘intelligent but doesn’t apply herself’, ‘brilliant but doesn’t concentrate’ or ‘smart but lazy’. I look back now on those kids who were applauded for their innate ability rather than for applying themselves, and you know what? Those kids didn’t get anywhere. Eventually they discovered they couldn’t get through life on ‘potential’ alone. Perfect is the enemy of good. So many kids these days seem to be described as ‘gifted’. This woman I knew kept telling me how gifted her three-year-old was. You know what I gave him for his fourth birthday? A 5000-piece jigsaw puzzle with only 4997 pieces – I removed one corner. Forget about having ‘talent’; persistence is the only talent you need. To keep going even when it seems impossible: that’s a gift.

As you persist, you will get better at what you do. If you write for 30 minutes a day, you will get better at it. Whether you like it or not. You will produce a body of work. And you will finish a project. Why? So you can put it behind you. So you can do the next thing. Which will only reveal itself after you have completed a project.

As I’m writing this book, there are two other projects I want to get to: a memoir and a one-woman stand-up show about my kids. I can’t write those until this book is finished. Sure, I have started a document on my computer for each of them, but this book you are reading is first in line to get spat out of the vending machine.

While you are persisting and if you have a moment thinking ‘this is shit, no-one will like it, buy it or read it’ remind yourself it’s okay. Perhaps you have to get this out to get to the next thing, which will be great. You can’t get to eat the lovely soup without cutting up those vegetables and throwing away the peels.

You know how I said don’t ask anyone how to get somewhere unless they have been there? Let me share with you a brilliant chunk of advice from Ira Glass, host of ‘This American Life’, who has been making a week of stories on a certain topic for almost twenty years:

Nobody tells this to people who are beginners, I wish someone told me. All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple years you make stuff, it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase, they quit. Most people I know who do interesting, creative work went through years of this. We know our work doesn’t have this special thing that we want it to have. We all go through this. And if you are just starting out or you are still in this phase, you gotta know it’s normal and the most important thing you can do is do a lot of work. Put yourself on a deadline so that every week you will finish one story. It is only by going through a volume of work that you will close that gap, and your work will be as good as your ambitions. And I took longer to figure out how to do this than anyone I’ve ever met. It’s gonna take awhile. It’s normal to take awhile. You’ve just gotta fight your way through.

I started writing in my twenties and I have no idea why I kept going, I really don’t. I wasn’t very good and I didn’t enjoy it much. Looking back on my writing I kept going round and round in circles writing the same boring angst-ridden things about boys and my emotions. I wasn’t publishing nor did I aspire to. I just kept writing. Perhaps it was to empty my brain, to quiet the voices in my head, to feel better, to feel normal. Despite not understanding the motivation and the drive, looking back it’s obvious that I had to clear out a lot of stuff before I hit anything I was remotely proud of. Sometimes it feels pointless. Just keep going, I guarantee there’s gold there.

Embrace everything that comes out of the vending machine as if you chose it. You didn’t, but it makes it a lot easier if you embrace it. It cuts down on the friction. On the drag.

There’s no universe, God or energy. No vibes. And no, what is yours doesn’t come to you. Good things do not come to good people.

Don’t struggle. Keep churning. Keep grinding. Keep on digging.

Create a narrative that makes sense to you: ‘Ah, this is a test. Worked hard, not as happy as I am with the outcome as I had hoped. Tomorrow will be the pay-off. Today will make tomorrow’s pay-off even sweeter. What to me has felt like shovelling shit from one ditch to another may prove to be much more important than it seems now.’

Whatever it takes, my darlings, whatever it takes.

I promise if you keep going, you will get better and feel better.