Using Your Next Creative Projects as Bait
How to finish your current project when the new one is so much more exciting
Listen to this voice note here. Or read the cleaned up transcript below.
Hey, I’m Holly Chayes, this is Poetry and Practicalities, and today I wanted to spend a little bit of time talking about that spark of exciting new creative projects, how it can make your current project in process look a little dull and boring and something that isn’t worth finishing and isn’t worth doing.
Normally I type out these types of essays and articles, but I wanted to try something a little different and new today. So we’re doing it as a voice note!
I was talking with a couple other creative business owners the other day and this topic of that creative spark making your current projects look dull and boring and like you didn’t want to finish it came up.
We were talking about how we deal with this and they asked me a little bit about what other people do because I work with creative businesses on their systems and operations and marketing. One of the problems with a creative business is as much as that new spark is amazing and exciting, you do need to finish things so that you can put them out into the world and get things done and run a business. And that’s one of the kind of inherent tensions of how do you follow that creative spark, but also complete enough things to keep your business moving forward?
I’ve done a lot of stuff over the years, but one of the things that I have found most useful, most invigorating, and the best way to balance this creative push-pull of starting new exciting things and finishing enough stuff so that you can share it is: using your new creative project as bait to finish your old one.
I often get this creative sparks like, halfway to two-thirds to 90% of the way through a creative project and I want to start the new thing. I’m bored of the old thing. It has hit whatever hard part comes about, it’s hit that like 50% boring, hard, difficult, slogging mark. There’s not that fresh excitement anymore. But it’s not close enough to like be done and like you can just muscle through it.
So I often use whatever new sparkly, exciting idea is still in its new, exciting phase. I use it as creative bait to get me to finish the old project and get me to keep working on it.
Sometimes that looks like working a certain amount of time on the old project and then working a little bit of time on the new project.
Sometimes it looks like completing certain milestones in the old project and then working on the new project a little bit.
And sometimes it looks like just… head down, finish the old project, get it out, get it good, get it done. And then dive fully into the new one.
I have found this works because the new project is often at a different… I mean, it’s obviously at a different stage, it’s a new project. It can’t be 50% of the way done if it’s brand new. But it’s it’s using a different part of my brain. There’s more blank space. I don’t need to solve problems that came out of decisions I’ve already made. I’m not locked into a structure yet, or I can choose a new medium or message, or whatever I want.
I often find that the old project I need to find creative solutions to questions that I’ve kind of already committed to, or I need to do some very deep structural work. And so that requires a different kind of thinking and creativity than a new project does.
Working on the two at the same time, I get to bounce between the states of problem-solving new problems and problem-solving old problems that I kind of wish I hadn’t brought upon myself already.
I think this works for a lot of other creatives too. I think we love the newness.
One of the beautiful things about creatives is that we can always come up with a new idea.
Giving ourselves time to honor that idea is still really important while also balancing the need to complete what we said we’d complete – even if the only person we told we’d complete it is is ourselves.
So those are my thoughts on new creative projects and old creative projects and how to get things done and using your new idea as a bait to finish your old one and get it out into the world.
I hope you enjoy it. That’s all for now. Talk soon. Bye.
Ditch “Stay in your lane” backlash: How to change lanes in work, life, art, etc.
You don’t always have to “stay in your lane” because sometimes the lane you’re in doesn’t get you where you want to go.
As someone who has done many different types of art, craft, work, etc. with varying degrees of depth. I generally don’t hold with “stay in your lane” nonsense.*
Mixed-media, cross-pollination, creating in the space where two fields overlap, having a wide range of interests and disciplines, all create some magnificent works.
It is also true that people tend to get confused (at best) when you try to change lanes. “Stay in your own lane” is a common criticism.
But the reality is, sometimes the lane you’re in doesn’t get you where you want to go. If you’re driving in the middle of the highway, and you want to exit, you need to change lanes.
From my experience, “stay in your lane” is most often said almost automatically as a reaction to change, and sometimes to try and keep people in their place.
Sometimes it’s said in a “I liked what you were doing, please don’t change” way. Sometimes it’s said in a “how dare you try something different” way. Some people are protective of their lanes and don’t want others entering. Sometimes it’s said for no reason other than that’s what they say when someone tries something new.
But some people manage to change lanes in their business, their life, their art, etc without getting too much of this blowback. They might hear “this new direction isn’t for me” or “I’ll stick with your older works” or “I’m not so sure about this.” But less reactionary “stay in your lane.” How might that be?
Because there’s a skill to changing lanes. Whether in your creative process, life, business, or anything really (including highways).
So how do you change lanes without causing a metaphorical road hazard? Here’s how I think about it:
1. Understand the landscape. What lane are you currently in? Where are you trying to go? How far away is it? Why are you trying to get there? Get clear about the landscape first. It makes the rest of the process a lot easier.
2. Understand the conditions. Who else is on the road? How crowded is it? How large a gap do you need? How frequently do those gaps appear? How angry is someone going to be if you merge too close to them? The conditions don’t need to be ideal, but you do need to understand them.
3. Signal and look for the opening. This part might be the most important and also the most overlooked when changing personal or professional lanes. Surprises are not always appreciated.**
4. Get it done. This is why step 1 is so important – knowing where you are, where you’re trying to go, and how to get there, helps you stay focused. You can always change back to your previous lane, but driving in between lanes is not cool.
If you change lanes badly and people will be (understandably) confused
When we’re driving and change lanes improperly, we understand that’s on us. But we don’t apply the same understanding to changing lanes in our business, our art, our life, and then get annoyed when people are confused.
If the people yelling at us are in the metaphorical car with us, it’s because they don’t know where we’re going anymore.
If the people yelling at us are in the lane we’re merging into, it’s because they also don’t know where you’re going or what you’re doing.
If you decide to change lanes in your business, or life, or art, etc. without understanding the landscape, without understanding the conditions, without signaling and looking for an opening, and then half-ass it, don’t be surprised when there’s backlash.
*The types of projects I’ve done include: theater, writing, lifestyle, designing, business, fiber arts, etc. (many of which have been documented here over the years.)
**Some people don’t even like change they know is coming. (See: Taylor Swift’s career and The Life of a Show Girl discourse.)
Photo by Denys Nevozhai on Unsplash
First glimpses of fall
A collection of the first glimpses of fall from an early September walk in the woods.
We’re at the very beginning of leaves turning their fall colors here. I’m always taken a little bit by surprise how quickly fall arrives once the leaves start to turn – cold mornings with warm afternoons, colorful landscape, crunchy leaves, sweaters, cider, etc.
But before fall officially makes itself known, there are hints and glimpses of the season changing that are easy to miss. Here’s a collection from a few weeks ago, when we were in that time between the end of summer and beginning of fall.
The first glimpses of fall from an early September walk in the woods:
🥾 First walk in boots! Keeping your feet warm and dry is A+. (Even if your feet don’t cramp when they’re cold, like mine do.)
🧥 Wondering “maybe I should have brought a jacket?” but being fine without it. The classic between seasons conundrum.
⛈️ The cool damp smell after the rain. Smells regenerative.
🍎 Hot apple spice tea. Not quite cider weather yet, but getting there.
🕷️ “Do you want this?” Halloween decor texts. Of course I want the spider tea light holders! (Halloween season is also when I got the tray I use to contain my dishes.)
🌬️ Crisp breezes replacing humid ones. And springy forest floors replacing dry ones.
🍂 First hint of a crispy leaf. A single crunch here and there, hinting at the piles of leaves to come.
📙 Cozy (very) early mornings in the dark. And trying to remember where you put your book light.
🌚 Eclipse season.
🍄 Mushroom logs.
🌿 Browning fern forests.
❤️ Red ground berries.
💧 Ending a walk with a half full water bottle instead of an empty one.
🌳 Acorns falling on your head and pinecone sap sticking to your boots.
😅 A sheen of sweat replacing buckets. (Fortunately I didn’t take that jacket.)
It’s collections of glimpses like these that remind me not to rush from one season to the next. They let me savor the moment watching the world turn.
Photo by Mihály Köles on Unsplash
