creativity

I Will Not Give Up My Mistakes For Robots

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(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve’s Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)

I often discuss the impact of AI on creativity with Serdar. We’re both authors and in technical areas, so it’s something both personal and intimate for us. You can probably guess neither of us is happy about it – and being authors we like to discuss that often at length.

Serdar recently did a blog post on LLMs and intelligence, and it is quite worth reading like all of his work. But one thing he discusses in the post, and in our own discussions, is how LLMs use treats writing as a product. That fascinates me, because there are people who want to do creative work but don’t want to be creative – they want to push a button and get a product.

I could go on about the psychology of this – and indeed I probably will in time – but these are people who want results without making mistakes of their own. You can’t decouple creativity from mistakes, false starts, false ends, and sometimes just producing utter crap. Those aren’t problems, that’s part of creativity.

Creativity is not a linear, mechanical process, as much as we sometimes want it to be. Creativity snags on edges, creativity takes strange detours that somehow get you to the destination more effectively. I’m sure you’ve seen human made creative works that were created just a bit too mechanically, and there’s something wrong when you partake of them, a kind of metallic mental taste in your mind.

Part of this creative work is screwing up sometimes in epic ways. Actually, I’m sure if you’re any kind of creative, you’ve made some awful stuff, and trust me so have I.

Anyone who writes, draws, cosplays, and acts has a mental list of things they regret. They went out there, did the thing, published the book, went to the audition and completely and utterly whiffed it. Creativity in its unpredictable glory gives us infinite things to make and infinite ways to humiliate ourselves.

Creativity requires mistakes, and sometimes you don’t know if you’re making one until you’re done with a work. To complete a work even if it turns out to be lousy is to fully explore your ideas. So often we have to get something out if only, upon completion, to finally understand why it was a stupid idea. That’s fine, that’s what creativity is all about.

Even the journey is necessary. To wrestle with a concept. To implement it. To get it out. Every terrible novel or lousy cosplay or mediocre piece of art is a testimony that someone could get it done and learned on the way. They might not be thrilled with the result of the journey, but at least they made it.

I think this is why some trashy works and B or Z grade films fascinate me. The flawed nature reveals the author’s dreams, ambitions, and efforts. Bad as they are, there’s also a drive there you feel and relate to.

The creativity-as-product takes away all these passionate, painful, wonderful mistakes. It takes away the informative disasters and the joy of hardheaded persistence against your own good senses. It is just pushing a button and at best you become a better button-pusher, but you don’t become more creative.

To make creative work, even if you make something awful, you need to create. You need to be that author or artist. You need to grow from the experience, even if it’s painful. It is to be, i na way, a better person for what you did – even if the better person might be the one who admits “my writing is crap” and move on to something else.

Just pushing a button and pummeling the resulting writing product into a marketing-shaped form isn’t creative. No matter how well the work sells, you run the terrible chance you won’t screw up as much as you need to.

Steven Savage

Channeling Innovation

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(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve’s Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)

I came across this fascinating paper that suggests innovation is the result of collective interaction (shared knowledge, exchange of ideas, etc.). Think of it this way – we’ve got all this stored knowledge, cultural interactions, kind of a shared brain, that leads to innovation. People may carry it out, but it doesn’t come from them – a bit like channeling or “being ridden” in spiritual terminology.

Having worked in everything from medical research to tech to writing, I find the paper compelling not just for its citations, but how it fits my own experiences. I’ve watched creatives – including myself – “come up” with ideas that are the results of inputs and experiences, evolving into something. I’ve seen tech changed over the years, watching interaction across time and space result in great – and stupid – things that can’t be really traced to a single “cause.” The ideas may appear in people, but it doesn’t arise from anyone, but the time itself.

I’ve often been skeptical of people who think they’re some kind of linchpin of history. I know what goes on in my own head when I get inspired, and so much “isn’t me.” I know many people get where they are due to wealth, luck, the time, and so on. I know where my own luck and privilege has benefited me.

We may be the carriers of innovation, or where it finally manifests, but we’re not its owners – nor its masters as many a person possessed by an idea knows.

With this idea in mind (ha!), I’d like to take a look at something I’ve oft complained about – the lack of innovation and anything interesting in the tech industry in, well, the last ten or fifteen years.

Consider what happens if we believe that some Great Innovators are the source or all good things. We will seek these Great Innovators, pay attention to them, and then rely on them even if they aren’t producing good ideas. Because we seek them, anyone who fits the idea in their head is someone we listen to and assume they know what they’re doing. This of course leaves room for plenty of liars and grifters – maybe most of them.

Do that long enough and you not only lack innovation, you have a kind of anti-innovation. People with fame and money are not innovating, but now have the fame, money, and regard to propagate non-innovative ideas. The non-innovators can buy technology and access and even crush places where innovation originates.

Meanwhile, we’re not working on a culture and a world that increases innovation. We’re too busy looking for the Big Heroic Idea Person as opposed to a society where innovation can be realized. Everything becomes about finding heroes – which don’t exist – and things get less innovative and interesting.

It seems awful familiar, doesn’t it?

Steven Savage

Marketing Is An Infection

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(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve’s Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)

Being a creative person who hangs out with creatives, we often discuss marketing – and it’s a popular subject among us as of late. Our reactions have not been, shall we say, civil towards marketing creative work in 2024. Or probably the past decade. Or three. Or our lifetimes.

Something disturbing that has come to mind from these discussions is how marketing isn’t how we sell writing, but how we THINK of writing. If you at all try to market your work, thoughts of marketing will doubtlessly infect your work as you create it. There’s always that voice in your head that takes the books, seminars, and suggestions you’ve experienced and whispers on how to do your writing or art or whatever.

You’re not writing you’re marketing

That voice is actually a constant drumbeat in our culture and we miss how widespread it is. Personal Branding seminars, amazon marketing lessons, endless books on how to write what sells, etc. are everywhere. There’s also blatant how-to-write-for-market books like “Save The Cat” and so on. I’ve even seen it well argued that the Joseph Campbell’s contrived “momonmyth” has so intertwined in culture that it affects our media and in turn our way of promoting it.

As I’ve changed my writing to be more personal columns (like this), art (under a pen name) and small press (under a pen name, look I have many) I’ve been doing more work for myself. To not think about marketing (as much) is not only liberating, but made me see how it infected way too much of my work (and that’s a wide body of work).

It’s a subtle thing, of course. Write an extra career book to help people in the thoughts it’ll help sell my others. Way With Worlds went through many experiments, including one that made me wonder if it was easier as a promotional – when it became my flagship. I vacillated on the plots of my novels to fit various desires, patterns, etc. (honestly, probably why they weren’t quite what I wanted).

How much of my writing has been me and how much has been marketing thoughts? Marketing is an infection that we’re all suffering from.

The ads you’re sick of in your browser are just the blatant, resource-consuming, questionably-targeted, most visible manifestation of marketing Over Everything. Do so many things seem empty? Well part of that is because they’re meant to be sold not experienced. Does your own work feel like checking boxes to it sells?

Now that I’ve stepped into some more for-me creative works it’s fairly obvious how widespread the Marketing Infection is. It also makes me mourn all the things that could have been and may not be but for someone trying to write/paint by the numbers of a marketing guide.

I don’t cast aspersions on people that want to make money at creative work. In fact, trying to “figure out the system” can be its own fun challenge! But we do have to ask if it’s become too much of a driver that shapes our lives and work. We also have to ask how it shapes our choices of what we consume and do.

Because the infection is widespread.

Steven Savage