Escaping the Allure of Perfection

(or how I learned to embrace failure as a professional creative)

I owe a lot of what I know now about writing and being a professional creative to three simple words that it took me years to fully embrace.

Writing may seem like effortless stuff, but let me tell you — it’s hard work. There’s so many things that go on behind the scenes to make something presentable to the world. But a big part of my preparation to get where I am now in my career is embracing the following piece of advice:

Embrace bad writing.

In those three words, I learned that there’s liberation in wanting to escape the (boring) allure of perfection.

In art, we know that the interesting and gritty will move you and be etched deeper in your memory than a simple, classically beautiful piece will.

In a way, everything in our lives — creative or not — is like that. We often get so caught up in the excitement of conceiving an idea, that we forget about the rest of the birthing process. It’s gritty, bloody, uncomfortable work to bring an idea to fruition. It takes guts and commitment and a stubborn determination that, quite frankly, we all avoid if we can get away with it.

That’s why perfection is so alluring. We can cling to excuses like I’m not ready and It’s not done yet like old security blankets as the on why we haven’t brought our BEST IDEA YET into the world. But really, all we’re doing is making ourselves small in light of what could be an amazing breakthrough.

Once I got over the idea that to be a writer I had to actually write things, I found myself working over this hump. And this hump was filled with scary stuff; things that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy — it’s the stories and half-assed poems and experimental forms gone wrong that never see the light of day.

But as cringe-worthy as these pieces are, I’m grateful for them. They helped me build some of that tenacity that I need to be able to carry the really good ideas. It’s the mental equivalent to training before a cross-country marathon or studying before an exam. To make bad art doesn’t make you a terrible creative — it just means you’re preparing to bring your best ideas to light.

A friend once told me that Lauryn Hill, one of my favorite singers to ever walk this planet of ours, was terrified to make a second album because she feared it wouldn’t live up to her first. I’m not entirely sure how true this is, but these words always stuck with me and I was unsure why. But I realize now that there’s a slight fascination with failure and the rebellious nature of it.

With perfection, there’s limitations and standards and the narrowest of boxes that your work must fit into. With perfection, we aren’t encouraged to be our best selves — we’re just encouraged to follow the rules set before us. There’s nothing exciting about being tedious and walking the path that’s laid before us.

I hope you’re brave enough to embrace bad writing. Because once you push past that hill, you’re going to see amazing things unfold.