Show Your Work!

Show Your Work! Plot Summary

Introduction

Creativity thrives not in isolation, but in connection. For too long, creative professionals have been told to toil in private until their work reaches perfection, but this approach misses something fundamental about human creativity. The most innovative minds throughout history didn't create in a vacuum—they shared their process, invited feedback, and built communities around their developing ideas. The digital age has completely transformed how we can approach creativity and professional growth. Today, we have unprecedented opportunities to share our work while it's evolving, to document our creative journey, and to find our audience before we've even completed our masterpiece. By opening up our process rather than hiding it away, we discover not just an audience for our finished products, but collaborators, mentors, and supporters who can help shape our work into something better than we could have created alone. This approach isn't just more effective—it's also more authentic, more generous, and ultimately more fulfilling.

Chapter 1: Embrace the Scenius: Finding Your Creative Community

The myth of the lone genius has dominated our understanding of creativity for centuries. We've been taught that creativity comes from extraordinary individuals who possess special talents and work in isolation until their masterpieces are ready to be revealed. This narrative is not just misleading—it's harmful to our creative development. Brian Eno offers a healthier perspective with his concept of "scenius"—the idea that great creative work emerges from a whole ecosystem of talent rather than from isolated geniuses. When we examine history closely, we find that many supposedly solitary geniuses were actually part of vibrant communities of creators who supported, challenged, and inspired one another. These scenes didn't diminish individual achievement; they made it possible. Scenius acknowledges that creativity is always, to some degree, collaborative—the product of minds connecting with other minds. What makes this concept so powerful is that it creates space for all of us in the creative story. Being valuable within a scenius isn't about innate genius but about what you contribute—the ideas you share, the connections you make, the conversations you initiate. By shifting our focus from solo achievement to community contribution, we can adjust our expectations and find our place in creative communities that nurture our growth. The internet has democratized access to creative scenes. Online spaces—whether blogs, social media platforms, or forums—function as virtual scenes where people gather around shared interests and passions. There are no bouncers or gatekeepers; you don't need fancy credentials or prestigious degrees. Online, everyone has the ability to contribute, regardless of their status or background. The beauty of digital scenius is that it's open to anyone willing to participate authentically. Remember that you don't need to be an expert to join a community. In fact, the amateur spirit—approaching your craft with love and enthusiasm rather than professional calculation—often leads to the most interesting discoveries. Amateurs aren't afraid to experiment publicly, to make mistakes, or to follow their curiosity wherever it leads. By embracing this spirit, you can find your way into communities that will support your creative journey and help your work reach the people who will appreciate it most.

Chapter 2: Document Your Process: The Art of Sharing

Traditional wisdom has taught artists to guard their creative process jealously. We're told that the messy, uncertain work of creation should remain private—that audiences care only about polished final products. Art educators David Bayles and Ted Orland express this view in their book Art and Fear when they write: "To all viewers but yourself, what matters is the product: the finished artwork. To you, and you alone, what matters is the process." This approach made sense in the pre-digital era when artists had limited means of connecting with their audience. But today's digital landscape has transformed these possibilities entirely. Now, an artist can share as much or as little of their process as they choose—posting sketches, works-in-progress, studio photos, or reflections on influences and inspirations. Commander Chris Hadfield demonstrated this perfectly during his mission on the International Space Station. Rather than waiting until his return to share a polished presentation, he tweeted daily updates, posted photos of Earth, filmed videos of mundane tasks like brushing his teeth and clipping his nails—all while performing his astronautical duties. Millions followed along, fascinated not just by space exploration but by the day-to-day reality of life in orbit. Hadfield's approach shows that audiences crave connection with the human behind the work. By opening up his process, he created ongoing engagement rather than a single moment of attention. His son Evan explained their strategy: "Dad wanted a way to help people connect with the real side of what an astronaut's life is. Not just the glamour and science, but also the day-to-day activities." Even if your work seems mundane or invisible, there's an art to what you do that others would find interesting if presented thoughtfully. The key is documenting your process so that others can see it. Take photos of your work at different stages. Keep a work journal. Record audio of your thoughts as you solve problems. Shoot video of yourself working. Use the multimedia studio you carry in your pocket—your smartphone—to capture the invisible aspects of your craft and make them visible to others. This documentation practice isn't just valuable for your audience; it helps you too. By recording your process, you'll see your own work more clearly, recognize your progress, and build a treasure trove of material you can share when you're ready. The act of documenting transforms invisible work into tangible evidence of your creative journey—evidence that can connect you with others who share your interests and values.

Chapter 3: Build Your Digital Home: Creating Online Presence

In our hyperconnected world, maintaining a consistent online presence isn't just beneficial—it's essential. The most effective way to share your work and build meaningful relationships is to establish a regular rhythm of sharing. Focus on what you can manage consistently, whether that's daily, weekly, or monthly updates about your current projects and processes. The daily dispatch concept embodies this approach perfectly. After completing your day's work, select one element of your process to share publicly. As filmmaker Ze Frank noted when interviewing job candidates: "When I ask them to show me work, they show me things from school, or from another job, but I'm more interested in what they did last weekend." Your daily updates create a real-time window into your current work and thinking—like getting all the DVD extras before a movie is even released. Austin Kleon's personal experience illustrates the long-term power of consistent sharing. More than a decade ago, he registered the domain austinkleon.com and began building a basic website. Though it started "bare bones and ugly," his consistent blogging transformed this simple site into an invaluable professional asset. "My blog has been my sketchbook, my studio, my gallery, my storefront, and my salon," he writes. "Absolutely everything good that has happened in my career can be traced back to my blog." When building your online presence, choose platforms that align with your work and audience—filmmakers thrive on YouTube or Vimeo, writers gravitate to Twitter, visual artists connect on Instagram or Tumblr. However, social media platforms come and go, while owning your own domain gives you permanent control. Your website becomes your digital headquarters where people can always find you, regardless of which social platforms rise or fall. The key to successful sharing isn't perfection but consistency. Remember science fiction writer Theodore Sturgeon's observation that "90 percent of everything is crap"—including our own work. We don't always know what's good until we put it in front of others. When asked how he finds time for creating and sharing, Kleon answers simply: "I look for it." Time exists in the margins of life—during commutes, lunch breaks, or the quiet hours after children sleep. Finding these moments requires intention but yields tremendous rewards. Approach your digital home not as a self-promotion machine but as a self-invention space—a place where you can become the person you aspire to be. As Patti Smith was advised by William Burroughs: "Build a good name. Keep your name clean... Be concerned with doing good work... and if you can build a good name, eventually that name will be its own currency."

Chapter 4: Share What You Love: Curating Your Influences

We all carry within us collections of treasures—books, music, art, ideas, and experiences that have shaped our sensibilities and informed our work. These collections reveal as much about us as our own creations do, forming what might be called our personal "cabinet of curiosities." In 16th and 17th century Europe, wealthy educated people displayed such cabinets in their homes—rooms filled with rare objects that demonstrated their knowledge of the world. These collections juxtaposed natural and human-made marvels, revealing connections between seemingly disparate elements. Our modern collections might be physical bookshelves or digital playlists, but they serve the same purpose—they externalize our internal landscapes and reveal the influences that shape our creative output. Writer Jonathan Lethem recognizes this connection: "I'm basically a curator. Making books has always felt very connected to my bookselling experience, that of wanting to draw people's attention to things that I liked, to shape things that I liked into new shapes." For Lethem and many creators, collecting and creating exist on the same spectrum—one feeds directly into the other. Nelson Molina, a New York City sanitation worker, exemplifies this curatorial spirit through his remarkable "Trash Museum." For over twenty years, Molina collected discarded objects from his route—paintings, photographs, toys, musical instruments—displaying them in the Sanitation Department garage. Without formal training, Molina developed an eye for overlooked treasures, practicing what might be called "dumpster diving"—finding value in what others have discarded. His collection bears no unifying principle beyond his personal taste, yet it transforms garbage into something meaningful and revealing. This kind of treasure-hunting is essential to creative work. As Michel de Montaigne wrote over 400 years ago: "In my opinion, the most ordinary things, the most common and familiar, if we could see them in their true light, would turn out to be the grandest miracles." Creative people maintain open awareness, finding inspiration in places others overlook. They recognize that cultural categories of "high" and "low" are arbitrary distinctions that can limit discovery. When sharing your influences, have the courage to embrace all aspects of your taste—even those that might seem unsophisticated or unpopular. As musician Dave Grohl puts it: "I don't believe in guilty pleasures. If you fucking like something, like it." Celebrating your true enthusiasms creates authentic connections with others who share your sensibilities. This honesty acts as a beacon, drawing your ideal audience toward you. Remember also that sharing others' work requires proper attribution. Credit isn't just about respecting creators; it provides context that enriches the experience for your audience. Good attribution includes what the work is, who made it, how they made it, why you're sharing it, and where people can find more of it. This generosity creates a network of connections that benefits everyone involved.

Chapter 5: Tell Compelling Stories: Crafting Your Narrative

The human brain is wired for stories. When you share your creative work without a narrative framework, you're missing a crucial opportunity to connect with your audience. Consider an experiment conducted by psychologist Paul Bloom: When shown two identical paintings, one described as created by a Dutch master and the other as a recent forgery, people invariably preferred the "original"—even though the actual images were identical. This demonstrates that context fundamentally shapes how we perceive and value creative work. Joshua Glenn and Rob Walker's "Significant Objects" project further proves this point. They purchased inexpensive thrift store items for about $1.25 each, then hired writers to create fictional stories about each object's significance. When listed on eBay with these narratives as descriptions, the objects sold for a total of $3,612.51—a massive increase in perceived value created purely through storytelling. As artist Rachel Sussman explains: "Personal stories can make the complex more tangible, spark associations, and offer entry into things that might otherwise leave one cold." The stories you tell about your work profoundly affect how people understand and value it. Every email, text, blog comment, tweet, and conversation contributes to this narrative. Effective storytelling requires understanding basic narrative structure. John Gardner's plot formula offers a simple framework: "A character wants something, goes after it despite opposition, and so arrives at a win, lose, or draw." This pattern applies not just to fiction but to most creative work—you get an idea, execute it despite challenges, and release it into the world with uncertain results. Emma Coats, a former Pixar storyboard artist, outlined a basic fairy tale structure that works for many types of stories: "Once upon a time, there was _____. Every day, _____. One day, _____. Because of that, _____. Because of that, _____. Until finally, _____." When crafting your own narrative, you can adapt this structure to share your creative journey, highlighting the challenges you've overcome and the discoveries you've made along the way. For works-in-progress or project pitches, use a three-act structure: The first act covers the past (what you wanted and what you've done so far), the second act describes the present (your current work and challenges), and the third act outlines the future (where you're going and how others can help). This approach transforms your audience into potential collaborators in your ongoing story. Remember that good storytelling requires clarity and respect for your audience. Use plain language, be concise, and proofread carefully. When asked about your work—whether at a party or in a professional bio—answer honestly and without pretension. As artist Saul Steinberg simply put it: "I'm a writer who draws." Storytelling isn't about inflating your importance; it's about creating genuine connections through authentic narrative.

Chapter 6: Take Criticism Gracefully: Growing Through Feedback

When you share your work publicly, criticism inevitably follows. Designer Mike Monteiro credits his art school experience with teaching him "how to take a punch." During brutally honest critiques, he and his classmates "were basically trying to see if we could get each other to drop out of school." Though painful, these experiences taught him not to take criticism personally—a crucial skill for any creative professional who wants to grow. Receiving feedback, especially negative feedback, triggers our fear response. Creative people are particularly vulnerable because imagination can quickly spiral into catastrophic thinking. Remember that bad criticism isn't the end of the world—as far as anyone knows, no one has ever died from a negative review. When facing criticism, start by relaxing and breathing. Fear is often just imagination taking a wrong turn, and meditation can help manage these reactions. The best way to develop resilience is through exposure. As Monteiro suggests, strengthen your neck by practicing getting hit. Put out lots of work, let people respond honestly, then make more work and continue sharing. Over time, you'll realize that criticism can't truly harm you—and may actually benefit your development. Sometimes, when people criticize an element of your work, the most productive response is to push that element further. As counterintuitive as it sounds, having your work disliked by certain people can become a badge of honor. Not all feedback deserves your attention, however. Be particularly wary of trolls—people who aren't interested in improving your work, only in provoking you. Author Austin Kleon recounts receiving a series of hostile tweets after his son's birth, with a follower mockingly suggesting he couldn't possibly maintain his creative practice as a new parent. These messages amplified his own inner critic—"the voice that told me I'd never write another good word after becoming a father." The most dangerous troll, Kleon realized, is the one that lives in your head. When dealing with online negativity, use blocking and deletion liberally. As Kleon's wife wisely noted: "If someone took a dump in your living room, you wouldn't let it sit there, would you?" You might eventually consider turning off comments completely. Cartoonist Natalie Dee points out: "There's never a space under paintings in a gallery where someone writes their opinion." Focus instead on feedback from people who genuinely care about you and your work. Value constructive criticism that helps you grow, and develop the wisdom to distinguish between useful feedback and destructive commentary. By approaching criticism with openness rather than defensiveness, you transform potential pain into powerful growth opportunities.

Chapter 7: Find Your True Fans: Building Meaningful Connections

The digital age has fundamentally transformed how creators connect with their audiences. Rather than pursuing mass popularity, focus on building meaningful relationships with people who genuinely appreciate your work. As writer Donald Barthelme advised a student who wanted more readers: "Have you tried making yourself a more interesting person?" The key to attracting followers isn't manipulation or self-promotion—it's becoming someone worth following. This means being genuinely interested in others rather than merely interesting. As author Lawrence Weschler defines it, being "interest-ing" means practicing "the continual projection of interest"—paying attention to the world around you with genuine curiosity. Record producer Steve Albini emphasizes that "connections don't mean shit. I've never had any connections that weren't a natural outgrowth of doing things I was doing anyway." Quality connections emerge organically from doing meaningful work and engaging authentically with others who share your interests. Not every connection is worth pursuing, however. The sculptor Constantin Brancusi famously avoided Pablo Picasso, despite Picasso's celebrity status. Brancusi recognized that Picasso was what Kleon calls a "vampire"—someone who leaves you feeling depleted rather than energized after interactions. The Vampire Test offers a simple way to evaluate relationships: If spending time with someone consistently drains your energy, that person is a vampire. The same test applies to jobs, hobbies, and projects—pursue what energizes you and distance yourself from what depletes you. When you follow your genuine interests, you'll naturally discover your "fellow knuckleballers"—the rare individuals who share your specific obsessions and approaches. Baseball pitcher R.A. Dickey describes how knuckleball pitchers form a special brotherhood, freely sharing techniques that other pitchers would guard as "state secrets." These knuckleballers feel "a greater mission beyond our own fortunes... to pass it on, to keep the pitch alive." Similarly, your creative peers are those who share your mission and with whom you feel mutual respect. Online connections can become powerful real-life relationships. Rob Delaney reminds us: "You and I will be around a lot longer than Twitter, and nothing substitutes face to face." When online friends meet in person, they can skip small talk and move directly to meaningful conversation. Attend meetups where online communities gather in real life, or arrange coffee with local online connections. These in-person interactions deepen relationships that began digitally. By focusing on quality rather than quantity in your relationships, you'll build a network of true fans who genuinely care about your work and development. These connections aren't just professionally valuable—they provide the emotional support and feedback necessary for creative growth. Make what you love, share it generously, and the right people will find their way to you.

Summary

Creativity flourishes not in isolation but in connection. Throughout this exploration of sharing and creative growth, we've seen how opening up our process rather than hiding it away transforms not just how others see our work, but how we experience the creative journey itself. The path to meaningful work isn't about protecting ideas or perfecting them in private—it's about participating generously in a community where ideas can evolve, improve, and spread through collaboration. As Woody Allen demonstrates with his remarkable output of one film per year for over four decades, sustainable creativity isn't about waiting for lightning-bolt inspiration but about establishing consistent habits of creation and sharing. The moment you finish one project becomes the perfect time to begin the next, using what you've learned to evolve your approach. Remember what author Annie Dillard wrote: "The impulse to keep to yourself what you have learned is not only shameful, it is destructive. Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you." Start today by sharing one small element of your creative process—a sketch, a draft, a reflection on your influences—and notice how this simple act of generosity connects you to others who share your passions and perspective.

About Author

Loading...

Austin Kleon

I’m a writer who draws. I make art with words and books with pictures. Author of Steal Like An Artist and other bestsellers. Visit my website: http://austinkleon.com/

Read more

Related Books by Austin Kleon

Loading...

Steal Like an Artist

Austin Kleon

10 Things Nobody Told You About Being Creative

★★★½☆4.0