Creativity is Not a Desk Job
Understanding the creative process can be a major relief
Inside most traditional ad agencies, there’s an account side, where the business happens, and a creative side, where the fun and the magic happens. It’s common for there to be varying degrees of animosity between these two factions. Creative teams see the account folks as middle men pushing forth a constricted agenda. Account teams see creatives as lazy, entitled brats. None of this is true. And all of it is.
My advertising career began by accident
After a project I’d managed as a freelancer went extremely well, a job offer was made. Account Executive sounded like a fancy title, so my ego said yes to the position. A year in, my bosses were thrilled with my work, but I knew I’d been miscast. Budgets and logistics and hours-long client meetings were not at all my speed. Pretending that they were was exhausting.
I knew where I belonged: on the creative side. I wanted to make things and make things up, like I had for most of my life. I wanted to go to the movies in the middle of the work day like the creatives did, even if I didn’t yet totally understand why they did it or how they got away with it.
Determination set in. While keeping my account job, I went to advertising school, emerged with a solid portfolio, and transitioned into a copywriting role at the same agency — a much, much better fit. As I immersed myself in our agency’s projects from the other side, I began to find my happy place again. Then, in an effort to make sense out of the way creative people operate, I became obsessed with the creative process as explained by Graham Wallas in his book “The Art of Thought.” Here’s an updated version of the process described in a linear way:
Stage one is saturation.
Here you immerse yourself in research and inspiration about the project. Lots of reading, studying, cross-referencing, interviewing and plenty of note taking happens at this point.
Stage two is incubation.
In this stage, you deliberately step away from the project and fully give your attention to something else. You’re letting your subconscious do the work as ideas percolate in the background.
Stage three is illumination.
This is the lightbulb moment. It always sneaks up on you — sometimes quietly and sometimes by way of a big lightning bolt. Aha! Suddenly it all makes sense. Dots are easily connected. This usually coincides with low grade physical movement, which explains why so many great ideas that happen while you’re in the shower.
Stage four is evaluation.
Is this a good idea? You sure? Stage four is when you get feedback from people you trust. Co-workers, peers, mentors. Select your focus group carefully and then listen. Ultimately, it’s up to you decide whether or not your idea is worth pursuing, but having a trusted tribe will lead you in the right direction.
Stage five is elaboration.
Once you’ve decided to go ahead with an idea, the work really begins. Stage five is where you roll up your sleeves and test, tweak, revise, and improve upon your initial idea.
Of course, the creative process isn’t linear
These stages can, and often do, happen out of order too. After elaboration, go may go back into saturation to take things deeper. After that, you might get some more input, aka evaluation. It’s a fluid process. Ebb and flow.
Understanding this process gave me peace and validated what I once suspected (but never admitted) was laziness. It also totally changed my perception of what creative work is “supposed to” look like from the outside. For the account-types, the bulk of their work happens while sitting at a desk. Makes sense, considering that much of their job happens on the phone or the computer.
For creatives, though, we’re charged with coming up with big “sticky” ideas and dreaming up creative solutions to our clients’ business challenges. So the desk isn’t necessarily — and shouldn’t be — command central. In fact, it kind of feels like a giant wooden creative block.
Now I know and appreciate that during some stages, creative work looks like playing ping pong in the break room or sketching during a meeting or laying down in the parking lot outside to study the clouds. Sometimes it includes a trip to the museum or a drive up the coast. And occasionally, for the toughest assignments, field trips and scotch-tasting are part of the job too. The best ideas, I’ve learned, can come from the most unexpected sources.
Not surprisingly, none on the account side understood or respected this, even when our output was amazing. (I suspect there may have been some jealousy too.)
For you, my fellow creative, my hope is that whatever it is you’re working on now, understanding the creative process more intimately will give you some relief, and validation too. You don’t need to chain yourself to a desk for all hours to be productive, and if someone tells you to do this, please don’t listen.
Take a walk. Look up at the sky. Read something totally unrelated to your project. Chase the ice cream truck. All of this contributes to your work in some way, and usually not how you’d expect.
Finishing your project doesn’t have to mean gritting your teeth and gluing your fingers to a keyboard. Give yourself some space and time, travel with a notebook and a pen, and remember this: the more diverse the input, the more inspired and interesting the output. And eventually, when you’re ready to elaborate, head back to your office.
Get my Mini Guide on How to Slow the F Down.
Laurie Shiers writes about being an imperfect human and the quest for creative and emotional freedom. She’s also a professional coach whose collaborative approach draws on creativity, mindfulness, and neuroscience. You can find Laurie at brainchild-coaching.com.
