I have almost forty creative projects I need to finish before I die. Many of them are books, some are films or virtual reality experiences, there’s a couple of board games to design in there too. Am I daunted by the scale of this undertaking? Not at all; I’ve learned to find peace in my process, to stay in creative flow. Indeed, I’ve discovered that flow is the secret to success.
Anybody who has ever driven a car has experienced flow. Once you learn how, you don’t think about driving - you just do it. Creative flow is the same, and anybody can learn it, it has no limitations.
Dr Maya Angelou said it best: “You can’t use up creativity. The more you use, the more you have.” It’s not like money, or time or favours; creativity is a unique force in the universe. Shitting your pants worrying that you’re not good enough, that you won’t be able to “solve” a work, that you won’t have any new ideas… believe it or not, these are healthy starting places. They’re the first sign that you care about something so much that it causes your body to physically react. It’s the hallmark of artistry; a signal that you want to create.
Before we start, understand that the natural world is an infinity engine of inspiration.
If you take one thing away from this article, let it be that nature wants you to succeed, because it keeps giving you everything for free. It wants to be known, to be seen by you, and all you need to receive its inspiration is to show up. Take walks, meditate, sit in stillness. If ever you get stuck, let the natural world’s pace guide you, calm you and fill you with awe. This is what we call awe mining. You just have to be receptive to it, to be open, and the creativity comes like the dawn. You are already everything you need.
First, develop a system to collect dots.
The goal is to get ideas down quickly and then to let them pass, to allow space for more ideas. For many people, this might mean keeping a notebook or an app handy at all times. The act of capturing ideas is the work; it tells your mind “this might be important”. You’ll end up with more ideas, and of higher quality, if you reward yourself with the act of frequently capturing dots and then letting them go. The more passive and natural you can make the process, the more productive you’ll be, but also the more relaxed. A relaxed mind is ripe for creative orgies.
For me, that means keeping a “Bluesky” document for every project in Apple Notes, sorted with tags, or by adding ideas to project lists in the Reminders app. I go nuts collecting dots, writing them down as quickly as possible. I use Siri on my Apple Watch where possible, to avoid unnecessary screen time. I keep my phone silenced 24/7. Attention is an artist’s currency; breaking flow is devastating to my process, so I disable all notifications, to remain present, with my dots.
I collect all of them. There are no bad ideas, only the blue skies of possibilities, and I’m grateful for each and every one. Whenever it feels like a project is calling me, I make space for it and slowly Bluesky its dots over time.
By starting this process early, you’ll amass more ideas over time than if you crunched “to come up with something”. Being intentional is the key. By creating spaces to collect dots, such as a notes file or a reminders list, or by keeping a dedicated notebook for a project, we leave ourselves receptive and open to the creative process.
Because dot collection is more of a passive process, albeit intentional, I can keep many projects spinning at the collecting phase, and then typically elevate one or two at a time get upgraded into the next phase: connection.
Next, connect your dots.
Stephen King reckons that “a great idea is two good ideas, meeting”. Your task then is to smash ideas together to make them greater than the sum of their parts. Often, this will happen automatically, in the background of your mind. You might be washing the dishes, driving the car, taking a shower. Because you’ve amassed so many small dots, you’re increasing the likelihood that two of them will smash together on their own. The thrill when this happens is indescribable; it feels like winning something, like you’ve discovered a new colour.
Though it won’t always be automatic, so the trick then is to dedicate the time and intentionality for making connections. Find somewhere comfortable, cut out all distractions, and look back over your dots. It is a sacred process, you are enjoying the fruits of your mind, harvesting ideas. You’ll know they’re not yet ripe when the fear you feel about them outweighs the excitement. Simply allow more time, and remain intentional.
For me, I like to sit by the window in my bedroom and look out at the passing day. I can spend months doing this when developing a book. It always feels a little like theft, as though I “should be doing something”, but this is typically more a function of expectation and ego than anything useful. That is: in a capitalist go-go-go society, I’m fearful of being seen to be doing nothing. In truth, my mind is the engine of all my creativity, and it’s busy, busy, busy. My job is as much to allow myself to be creative as it is to “work”.
If you find that the creativity isn't flowing - go for a walk and let your brain switch into subconscious mode. You'll find that even though you're not actively considering the task, your mind will still recognise it has a goal, and produce in the background, sending seemingly random ideas your way.
Procrastination is fine, it’s a by-product of working hard; Phoebe Waller-Bridge reckons “writing is 90% procrastination”. It also opens the door to daydreaming, which is in itself an excellent tool of creation. What’s not fine are distractions; create an environment which insulates you from them. You should be the only one who takes your attention.
Then, find your structure.
All stories have structure. They are evolutionary patterns of revealing information; as a species we’ve grown to have expectations of them. When you’re starting out as an artist, you’ll feel a strong urge to create something “new”, but that’s not what your job is. There is nothing new under the sun; everything is a remix. All music is just a recombination of the same notes.
Studying the stories which came before you, figuring out how they work, gives you a place to begin to anchor your dots to. The way you do this defines your originality, and is the beginning of your unique voice.
I’m a big fan of “Save The Cat” as a story structure, as well as Dan Harmon’s theory of “Story Circles”. Both are reinterpretations of what is known as “the hero’s journey”, though they’re far from the only structures out there.
Lately I've been more interested in escalation ladders, and chaining character emotions than mapping "beats" (Save the Cat) or "phases" (Story Circles) - although there are no rules to structure, simply what helps you get the words down and then what resonates in editing.
Find what works best for you based on a combination of your collected and connected dots, and then multiply it by the passion you have for the project, by the spark of inspiration which first led you to say “I have this idea for a story…”
Finally - you write.
If you’ve collected enough dots and connected them well, writing is no longer a scary undertaking. It’s simply honouring your dots. It feels less like mountain climbing and more like following a recipe, or decorating a Christmas tree.
The best part is, because by this point you’ve become so adept at flexing your creative muscles, they’re in prime shape for the writing process. More relaxed and no longer afraid of doing the groundwork, all kinds of wonderful new ideas will come pouring out onto the page, and dots will connect in unexpected ways. It’s yet one more reward for being open to the universe, practicing flow and for believing in yourself enough to say: “I create.”
Go on now, bugger off, kid. Go and flow.
P.S. - if you're wondering why there's a photo of a one-legged seagull above, well... that gull (and the others like it) were part of my own dot-collecting journey this past week, which I'll talk a bit more about in the coming months.
