Nobody Wants to Read Your Sh*t

Nobody Wants to Read Your Sh*t Plot Summary

Introduction

The journey of creative expression is one all humans share, yet few of us fully embrace. From the moment we first held crayons in our tiny hands to the present day, something magical happened when we made our mark on the world. Yet for many of us, that natural creative flow became blocked somewhere along the way. We started to hear the voice of doubt, the fear of judgment, the weight of comparison. This creative journey isn't about talent or special gifts—it's about courage. The courage to silence the inner critic, to experiment without guarantees, to share work that feels vulnerable and raw. Throughout these pages, we'll explore how to rediscover that childlike creative spirit while developing the resilience of an artistic warrior. Whether you're a painter, writer, musician, or someone who simply longs to express themselves more freely, the principles ahead will help you unlock the authentic creator within—the one who has always been there, waiting for permission to emerge.

Chapter 1: Find Your Creative Voice

Your creative voice is that distinctive expression that could only come from you—the unique way you see the world, process experiences, and communicate through your chosen medium. Finding this voice isn't about mimicking others or following formulas; it's about excavating what already exists within you. Sarah, a photographer featured in these pages, spent years trying to replicate the styles of famous artists she admired. Her work was technically impressive but felt hollow. During a period of creative frustration, she embarked on a personal project documenting her grandmother's battle with Alzheimer's. Without the pressure of creating for others, she photographed intimate moments—her grandmother's weathered hands arranging flowers she could no longer name, the familiar objects that still sparked recognition. When she later exhibited these photos, visitors were moved to tears. "For the first time," Sarah said, "I wasn't thinking about technique or what others might think. I was simply photographing what moved me." This breakthrough happened because Sarah connected with something personally meaningful. The resulting work spoke with authenticity that technical perfection alone could never achieve. Her distinctive style—soft lighting that emphasized texture, composition that focused on poignant details—emerged naturally when she followed what genuinely moved her. The path to your creative voice begins with deep listening—to yourself, your reactions, your fascinations. Notice what consistently draws your attention. What themes recur in your thinking? What issues provoke strong emotional responses? Your creative voice lives at this intersection of passion and perspective. Next, create a collection of what resonates with you—quotes, images, music, textures, or ideas that spark something in your consciousness. This personal constellation of inspirations reveals patterns in your aesthetic sensibilities and thematic interests. Create from this authentic center, and your work will naturally carry your unique signature. It may feel vulnerable at first, but trust that what feels most personal often resonates most universally. Your creative voice isn't something you invent—it's something you uncover through honest expression and consistent practice.

Chapter 2: Embrace the Blank Page

The blank page, empty canvas, or silent instrument represents unlimited potential—and that's precisely what makes it so terrifying. That pristine emptiness awaits your mark, your decision, your commitment. It demands that you transform infinite possibilities into something definite, and that transition from everything to something specific is the moment where courage is most needed. James, a novelist featured in the book, described his relationship with the blank page as "a daily wrestling match." After publishing two successful thrillers, he found himself paralyzed when beginning his third book. "I'd sit at my desk for hours, writing and deleting the same paragraph, convinced everything I wrote was garbage." His breakthrough came from an unusual exercise suggested by his mentor. For two weeks, James wrote his daily pages with a timer set for thirty minutes, and he wasn't allowed to delete or revise anything during that time. "It was excruciating," he recalled. "I wrote absolute nonsense some days. But by forcing myself to keep moving forward without judgment, I gradually rediscovered the flow." What James discovered was that embracing the blank page means accepting imperfection. The unedited draft he produced during those timed sessions was messy and flawed, but it contained the seeds of what would become his most critically acclaimed work. By suspending judgment and permitting himself to create without immediate evaluation, he moved past the paralysis of perfectionism. This approach works because it separates creation from evaluation—two distinct processes that should never happen simultaneously. Creation requires openness, spontaneity, and risk; evaluation demands critical thinking and judgment. When we try to do both at once, we suffocate the creative spark before it can catch fire. To embrace your own blank pages, establish a beginning ritual that signals to your brain it's time to create. This might be brewing a particular tea, arranging your workspace, or writing a single sentence as permission to begin. Then set a timer and create without stopping to judge or edit, allowing yourself to produce what author Anne Lamott famously calls "a shitty first draft." Remember that every masterpiece began as something rough and unformed. The blank page isn't your enemy—it's the necessary starting point for any creative journey worth taking.

Chapter 3: Develop a Daily Practice

Consistent creative practice transforms inspiration from an occasional visitor into a reliable companion. The artists, writers, and musicians who sustain lifelong creativity rarely wait for motivation to strike—they show up daily, creating conditions where inspiration is more likely to occur. Miguel, a composer profiled in these pages, struggled for years with inconsistent productivity. Some months he'd write prolifically; others would pass without a single new melody. The turning point came when his mentor challenged him to compose for exactly thirty minutes each morning before checking email or beginning other work. "At first, I produced a lot of mediocre material," Miguel admitted. "But after several weeks, something shifted. Ideas began flowing more readily, and I started looking forward to those morning sessions." Within six months of establishing this routine, Miguel completed a song cycle that eventually earned him a prestigious commission. Miguel's experience demonstrates how creative momentum builds through regularity rather than intensity. His daily thirty-minute commitment proved more productive than his previous pattern of occasional eight-hour creative binges. The consistent practice trained his brain to enter creative flow more readily, like a muscle that strengthens with regular exercise. Developing your own daily practice begins with identifying your optimal creative conditions. Track when you feel most mentally alert and least distracted, then protect even a small portion of this time for your creative work. Start with a commitment you can realistically maintain—even fifteen minutes counts when done consistently. Design your practice to minimize friction. Prepare your tools and space in advance, eliminating decisions that might derail you. If you're a painter, perhaps that means setting out your supplies the night before; if you're a writer, it might mean closing all browser tabs and turning off notifications. Your practice should include both structured skill-building and open exploration. Alternate between exercises that develop technical mastery and sessions where you follow curiosity without a predetermined outcome. This balance ensures you're building capabilities while maintaining the playfulness essential to creativity. Remember that a daily practice isn't about producing masterpieces—it's about showing up for the process itself. Some days will yield remarkable results; others will feel like treading water. Both are valuable parts of the creative journey when you remain committed to the practice itself.

Chapter 4: Learn from Rejection

Rejection is perhaps the most feared aspect of creative life, yet those who develop resilience in the face of it often experience the most significant artistic growth. The sting of having your work dismissed can either become a stopping point or a turning point—the difference lies in how you process and respond to the experience. Elena, a playwright whose story appears in these pages, submitted her first major work to twelve theaters before receiving her first acceptance. "Each rejection felt like a personal indictment," she recalled. "I started questioning not just my writing but my worth as a person." The pivotal moment came after her ninth rejection, when she decided to request feedback from the literary manager who had declined her play. To her surprise, he agreed to coffee and provided specific insights about her dialogue and character development. "He told me the play had promise but needed more conflict in the second act. It wasn't that my voice wasn't valuable—it was that the work itself needed refinement." Taking this feedback to heart, Elena revised the play, strengthening the areas identified as problematic. The twelfth theater she submitted to not only accepted the work but featured it in their emerging playwright series. What changed wasn't just the quality of her writing but her relationship to rejection itself—she had learned to see it as information rather than condemnation. This transformation requires separating your creative identity from any single piece of work. Rejection of a particular creation is not rejection of you as a creator. Developing this perspective takes practice and conscious effort, especially when you've invested significant emotional energy in your work. When facing rejection, allow yourself to feel the disappointment fully—but limit its duration. Set a specific timeframe for processing these feelings, perhaps 24 hours, then consciously shift toward analysis and learning. Ask: What might this rejection teach me? Is there constructive feedback I can extract? If the rejection offers no specific insights, consider whether your work might simply be mismatched with its audience rather than inherently flawed. Keep a "rejection portfolio" documenting both the setbacks and what you learned from each experience. This practice transforms rejection from something to be feared into evidence of your courage and persistence—each entry represents a risk taken in service of your creative development.

Chapter 5: Create with Authenticity

Authenticity in creative work emerges when what you create aligns with your true values, experiences, and perspective rather than what you believe others want to see. This alignment produces work with a resonant truth that audiences can feel, even if they can't always articulate why certain creations affect them so deeply. David, a filmmaker discussed in these pages, spent the early part of his career creating what he thought would impress critics and festivals. His technically accomplished short films won some recognition but left him feeling hollow. The transformation began when his father was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease. Processing his grief and fear, David created a documentary following his father's journey—not intending it for public viewing but simply as a way to make sense of the experience. "I wasn't thinking about camera angles or editing techniques," David explained. "I was just trying to capture something truthful about our relationship and this disease." When David eventually showed the film to friends, their emotional response was unlike anything his previous work had elicited. The documentary was subsequently accepted to major festivals and led to a career-changing opportunity directing a feature film. The authenticity of his approach—allowing vulnerability rather than technical perfection to guide his choices—connected with audiences in a way his more calculated work never had. Creating with authenticity requires first identifying what matters deeply to you. What stories, questions, or issues do you return to repeatedly in your thinking? What experiences have shaped your unique perspective? These areas of authentic interest contain the energy needed to sustain you through the challenges of the creative process. Next, examine your creative decisions for signs of external motivation. Are you making certain choices to impress others, follow trends, or meet perceived expectations? While awareness of audience is valuable, decisions driven primarily by external validation often lead to work that feels derivative or hollow. Developing authentic expression also means embracing your limitations and quirks rather than trying to hide them. The distinctive "flaws" in your natural style often become the very elements that make your work recognizable and compelling. Your authenticity is found not in perfection but in the courage to present your unique perspective, complete with its edges and imperfections. Trust that what feels most honest and meaningful to you will find its audience. Authenticity creates a magnetic quality in creative work that no amount of technical skill alone can generate.

Chapter 6: Refine Your Craft

Technical mastery provides the foundation that allows your creative vision to manifest fully. Without sufficient skill, even the most inspired ideas can falter in execution, leaving a gap between what you imagine and what you create. Refining your craft bridges this gap, giving you the tools to translate your unique perspective into work that resonates with others. Lin, a ceramic artist whose journey is detailed in these pages, began with abundant creative energy but limited technical skills. Her early pieces were conceptually interesting but structurally weak, often cracking during firing. "I was frustrated because I could see these forms so clearly in my mind, but my hands couldn't realize them properly," she explained. Rather than abandoning her distinctive vision, Lin committed to an intensive technical apprenticeship with a master potter. For three years, she focused on fundamentals—centering clay perfectly, throwing consistent forms, understanding glaze chemistry. The transformation in Lin's work was remarkable. As her technical skills developed, her unique artistic voice became more evident rather than less. "Once I wasn't struggling with basic execution, I could focus on expression," she noted. Her signature style—organic forms with precisely placed textural elements—emerged more clearly once she had mastered the fundamentals. What appeared to be a detour into technical training actually accelerated her artistic development. Refining your craft begins with honest assessment of your current capabilities. Identify the technical aspects of your discipline that most limit your expression, then create a deliberate practice plan to address these areas. This might involve formal education, mentorship, tutorials, or structured self-study. Approach technical development with the mindset of a curious explorer rather than a reluctant student. Each new skill or technique represents another color in your palette, another tool that expands what you can express. The goal isn't technical mastery for its own sake but expanded capacity for authentic expression. Balance dedicated skill practice with integrated application. Set aside time specifically for technical exercises, then create projects that incorporate your developing skills within more expressive work. This integration helps technical abilities become intuitive rather than mechanical. Remember that refining your craft is a lifelong journey rather than a destination. Even the most accomplished artists continue developing their technical abilities throughout their careers. Each new level of mastery reveals more sophisticated possibilities, creating an endless path of growth that keeps creative work consistently engaging and challenging.

Summary

The creative journey unfolds not as a straight line toward mastery but as a spiral where courage and authenticity repeatedly intersect with craft and resilience. As you move through phases of finding your voice, facing the blank page, establishing daily practice, learning from rejection, embracing authenticity, and refining your skills, remember the powerful truth expressed in these pages: "The world needs your art not because it will be perfect, but precisely because it won't be—it will be human, and that humanity is the bridge that connects us." Your next creative act begins with a single courageous choice: to show up, to make your mark, to share your unique perspective. Choose one principle from this book to implement today—whether establishing a fifteen-minute daily practice, revisiting a rejection with new eyes, or focusing on authentic expression rather than perfection. The path to creative fulfillment opens not with grand gestures but with small, consistent acts of creative courage.

About Author

Loading...

Steven Pressfield

I was born in Port of Spain, Trinidad, in 1943 to a Navy father and mother. I graduated from Duke University in 1965. In January of 1966, when I was on the bus leaving Parris Island as a freshly-minted Marine, I looked back and thought there was at least one good thing about this departure. "No matter what happens to me for the rest of my life, no one can ever send me back to this freakin' place again." Forty years later, to my surprise and gratification, I am far more closely bound to the young men of the Marine Corps and to all other dirt-eating, ground-pounding outfits than I could ever have imagined. GATES OF FIRE is one reason. Dog-eared paperbacks of this tale of the ancient Spartans have circulated throughout platoons of U.S. troops in Iraq and Afghanistan since the first days of the invasions. E-mails come in by hundreds. GATES OF FIRE is on the Commandant of the Marine Corps' Reading list. It is taught at West Point and Annapolis and at the Marine Corps Basic School at Quantico. TIDES OF WAR is on the curriculum of the Naval War College.From 2nd Battalion/6th Marines, which calls itself "the Spartans," to ODA 316 of the Special Forces, whose forearms are tattooed with the lambda of Lakedaemon, today's young warriors find a bond to their ancient precursors in the historical narratives of these novels. My struggles to earn a living as a writer (it took seventeen years to get the first paycheck) are detailed in my 2002 book, THE WAR OF ART. I have worked as an advertising copywriter, schoolteacher, tractor-trailer driver, bartender, oilfield roustabout and attendant in a mental hospital. I have picked fruit in Washington state and written screenplays in Tinseltown. With the publication of THE LEGEND OF BAGGER VANCE in 1995, I became a writer of books once and for all. My writing philosophy is, not surprisingly, a kind of warrior code — internal rather than external — in which the enemy is identified as those forms of self-sabotage that I have labeled "Resistance" with a capital R (in THE WAR OF ART) and the technique for combatting these foes can be described as "turning pro." I believe in previous lives. I believe in the Muse. I believe that books and music exist before they are written and that they are propelled into material being by their own imperative to be born, via the offices of those willing servants of discipline, imagination and inspiration, whom we call artists. My conception of the artist's role is a combination of reverence for the unknowable nature of "where it all comes from" and a no-nonsense, blue-collar demystification of the process by which this mystery is approached. In other words, a paradox. There's a recurring character in my books named Telamon, a mercenary of ancient days. Telamon doesn't say much. He rarely gets hurt or wounded. And he never seems to age. His view of the profession of arms is a lot like my conception of art and the artist: "It is one thing to study war, and another to live the warrior's life."

Read more

Related Books by Steven Pressfield

Loading...

The War of Art

Steven Pressfield

Break Through the Blocks and Win Your Inner Creative Battles

★★★½☆4.0

Loading...

Turning Pro

Steven Pressfield

Tap Your Inner Power and Create Your Life's Work

★★★★☆4.2