You are a creative force

A manifesto for writers

Today I want to share something I have been meditating on for a while. In some ways, it is a manifesto I have been considering, one that I hope addresses so many of the concerns that writers face in sharing their voices and engaging readers.

My days are spent in conversations with writers, helping them get clarity in what they create, better understand how to share their work in a manner that is authentic, and to connect with readers and colleagues in meaningful ways. These conversations go deep.

What I often hear — sometimes overtly, sometimes between the lines — is concern. That social media has become complicated and fractured. That media and publishing are changing rapidly. That AI is reshaping things so quickly and completely. That so many people feel that the door of opportunity is closing for their writing, something they have spent a lifetime dreaming about. They worry they are too late.

Awhile back a friend reshared this on social media, and I have been thinking about it ever since:

“Why do I feel like [crap] all the time?” I ask myself while staring into the flashlight that tells me bad news.

This is a quote by Olivia Grace on Instagram from a few years ago, and to me, it hilariously summed up the odd relationship so many of us have with our phones. It is both a flashlight we use to find the bathroom in the middle of the night , and also the primary way that news, information, and connection is delivered to us.

The phone is ever-present, and we have become reliant on it not just for interpersonal communication, but a sense of safety, a way to do our banking, take photos, how we access work, and so much else.

I considered this recently when I took a trip into New York City. I’m a worrier, so I considered what would happen if my phone was lost or stolen. So I logged out of my banking apps, and deleted them. I mean, what was I thinking walking around like that anyway? I’ve read articles about how savvy people have gotten, knowing when to grab a phone when it is unlocked, and then being able to lock you out of it within moments. Someone then has immediate and total access to your banking, email, texting, social media, contacts, and so much else.

I thought about bringing a DLSR camera so that my phone would largely live in my pocket. I printed out our itinerary so that I wasn’t constantly pulling out my phone to check details.

All of these things are possible without the phone. Yet, it is mildly easier with the phone, so we default to it. It feels convenient, but something I’m considering more and more is: at what cost?

Perhaps this is one of the reasons I am obsessed with older technology that is focused on a single purpose. Here is the latest typewriter I just added to my collection, a 1964 Royal Safari:

… and of course why I love books and find that their relevance has only grown in the technology age.

Inside the Museum of Modern Art bookstore in NYC

If you sometimes feel lost in a changing world. If you worry that your voice is small amidst an avalanche of viral content that the algorithm is throwing at you. If you feel like there may not be a place for you. I want to remind you of something:

You are a creative force.

I will say it again: you are a creative force. This is inspired by a quote by Sensei Benny "The Jet" Urquidez that I read last year:

“Sometimes we have to face things, face people, face situations in life that we don't like to deal with. It can feel like everybody is out to get you. That is when you have to refuse to succumb. Make people realize that you are a force. But you also have to give and take in these situations.”

“You are a creative force” is a reminder that you have something unique and special to offer others. That the words you write, stories you tell, and art you create will inspire someone — today, a month from now, a year from now, a decade from now.

I want to be clear: by “force,” I don’t mean “overpower” or “interrupt.” It means that you have agency. You can create something utterly unique and meaningful, and the power to do so rests within you. It is not dependent on trends, algorithms, access, fame, followers, or anything else.

I look for these stories constantly, which is why I read so many memoirs and biographies from creative people, listen to longform interviews, and watch documentaries.

I was watching an interview with Adam Horovitz and Mike Diamond from the Beastie Boys, and they are describing how Adam Yauch — the third member of the trio who died in 2012 — as “the master manifester” of the group. He was the guy that would make things happen:

Adam H.: "You are with your friends, and you are like, 'oh, we should do this thing...' and no one does anything after saying that. But then Adam would show up with like a camera and film, and we were like, "Oh! I guess we are actually going to do the thing we were talking about."

Mike: “Adam is the guy in the room that would have the most outlandish ideas of anyone, but then show up the next day with the equipment that would make it all possible. He was completely determined to do something, and would get it done.”

I’ve had the pleasure of seeing the Beastie Boys play live, and even bumped into Adam Yauch once on the streets of New York City as he was saying goodbye to his wife and daughter. Then he skateboarded off.

Photo by Lynn Goldsmith

I love stories like this, because we have all been in this situation. In a room with friends who are smart and talented, and someone floats an idea that everyone gets excited about. But then, it languishes, swept away like thousands of other ideas.

That is, unless one person makes it happen. Until one person uses their creative force to empower others, to get the tools, to bring the energy. To get it done.

What I try to take from this is that this is a choice that Adam made. That any of us can make. We each have the choice to show up fully in our creative work. To do so exactly as you are. And that you — and only you — get to define this.

This also happens with the craft of how you share. How you empathize, listen to, and engage with others. How you encourage community. How you support those you are inspired by or care about.

So much is thrown at you every day, it’s so easy to feel reactive. To feel overwhelmed and worry that you can’t make a mark. And that’s fine. You don’t have to “make a mark.” You simply have to share what feels meaningful to you in the best possible way you can. Not just with your limits — but because of them. To embrace them as part of the process. Every great work of art ever was created with extraordinary limits, mishaps, and problems. Yet, the person persisted, and the writing and art they created changed peoples lives for the better.

Instead of “making a mark,” focus on crafting moments that matter. Where your writing moves someone. Where it helps them feel validated or educated. Where you create experiences that are memorable, and create the fabric of our lives.

It doesn’t matter how many followers you have — these metrics obfuscate the incredible power you have. You are a creative force.

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For my paid subscribers this week, I shared an example of what happens when a writer asks for the sale. See a preview here.

Reminder: if you want to explore working with me, there are two ways I collaborate with writers and creators:

1. One-on-one consulting

2. My Creative Shift Mastermind

As always, thank you for being here with me.
-Dan

Kids of the Week: Grandma finally gave up her flip-phone for a smartphone, so my kids are helping her learn how to use it.

Another week of building: