Steal Like an Artist

Steal Like an Artist Plot Summary

Introduction

Creativity isn't about being original in the purest sense—it's about finding your unique voice through the influences that speak to you. We often think we need to create something completely new, something never seen before, but that pressure can be paralyzing. The truth is that all creative work builds on what came before. Nothing exists in a vacuum. The most innovative minds throughout history understood this secret: they weren't conjuring ideas from thin air but rather collecting, combining, and transforming existing elements into something fresh. This approach isn't just for professional artists—it's for anyone who wants to inject more creativity into their life and work. By embracing the art of "stealing like an artist," you free yourself from the impossible burden of originality and open up to a world of endless creative possibilities.

Chapter 1: Collect Ideas Worth Stealing

The most honest answer to "Where do you get your ideas?" is simply: "I steal them." But not in a plagiaristic way—rather, in the way that all creators throughout history have drawn inspiration from what came before them. Pablo Picasso famously said, "Art is theft," and T.S. Eliot noted that "Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal." They understood that creativity is about collecting influences and transforming them. When Austin Kleon began his creative journey, he developed the habit of collecting everything that inspired him. He kept a "swipe file"—a collection of quotes, images, and ideas that resonated with him. Unlike a hoarder who collects indiscriminately, Kleon became a selective collector, only gathering things he truly loved. He would carry a notebook everywhere, jotting down overheard conversations, interesting phrases from books, and quick sketches of things that caught his eye. This practice of collection became the foundation for his creative work. For his book "Newspaper Blackout," he collected newspapers and then created poetry by blacking out unwanted words with a permanent marker. The physical act of collection—the feel of newspaper in his hands, the smell of marker fumes—made the creative process tangible and enjoyable. To build your own collection, start by keeping a notebook with you at all times. When something catches your interest—a quote, an image, a melody—write it down or sketch it. Create a digital "swipe file" where you save articles, images, and ideas. Google everything that interests you and follow those rabbit holes of curiosity. Visit libraries and get lost in the stacks, letting one book lead you to another. Remember that collecting isn't about hoarding information—it's about curating influences that speak to your soul. The more good ideas you collect, the more you have to choose from when you create. Your job isn't to be original in a vacuum; it's to collect good ideas and then contribute your own perspective to the conversation.

Chapter 2: Find Your Voice Through Imitation

Finding your unique creative voice doesn't start with originality—it starts with imitation. This counterintuitive truth has guided countless artists throughout history. Nobody is born with a style or voice; we develop them by first copying those we admire. The Beatles began as a cover band, with Paul McCartney emulating Buddy Holly and Elvis Presley before developing his distinctive sound with John Lennon. Kleon describes his own journey of imitation that eventually led to his unique style. In college creative writing workshops, everything had to be in Times New Roman font, double-spaced, and his writing felt lifeless. It wasn't until he began imitating poets he admired that he started to develop his voice. For his blackout poetry, he studied the redacted documents of government files and the cut-up techniques of William Burroughs. By copying these methods but applying them to newspapers instead, he created something that felt fresh. The key distinction Kleon makes is between mere copying and transformative imitation. As he puts it, "Don't just steal the style, steal the thinking behind the style." When basketball star Kobe Bryant studied tapes of his heroes' moves, he couldn't simply copy them exactly because he had a different body type. He had to adapt those moves, making them his own. This process of adaptation is where your unique voice emerges. To find your voice through imitation, start by identifying your heroes—the creators whose work resonates deeply with you. Study everything they've made. Then find out who influenced them, and study those people too. Copy their work as practice, not to pass it off as your own but to understand how it's constructed. Draw your favorite paintings, transcribe passages from books you love, play covers of songs that move you. The magic happens in the gap between your imitation and the original—in your "failure" to make an exact copy. As comedian Conan O'Brien noted, "It is our failure to become our perceived ideal that ultimately defines us and makes us unique." Your limitations, quirks, and perspectives will naturally transform what you borrow into something that belongs to you.

Chapter 3: Create What You Want to See in the World

Instead of asking "What should I make?" ask yourself "What do I want to see exist in the world?" This simple shift in thinking unlocks tremendous creative potential. Kleon shares how, as a ten-year-old, he left the theater after seeing Jurassic Park and immediately wrote his own sequel because he couldn't wait for the official one. He created what he wanted to see, what he wished existed. This approach contradicts the common writing advice to "write what you know." Kleon argues this advice leads to boring, unadventurous work. Instead, he advocates for "writing what you like"—creating the kind of work you enjoy consuming. Bradford Cox of the band Deerhunter would practice this as a teenager before the internet age. When waiting for a new album from his favorite band, he would record his own "fake" version of what he thought the album might sound like. Many of these songs later became actual Deerhunter tracks. The practice extends beyond art into entrepreneurship and innovation. Kleon points to Brian Eno, who said, "I wanted to hear music that had not yet happened, by putting together things that suggested a new thing which did not yet exist." Eno wasn't waiting for someone else to create the ambient music he craved—he made it himself. To apply this principle, start by analyzing the work you love most. What's missing from it? What would you change or improve? What would happen if your favorite creators collaborated? Then ask yourself: "What would make a better story?" This question can guide not only your creative projects but your life choices as well. This isn't about ignoring reality or escaping into fantasy. It's about identifying gaps in the existing creative landscape and filling them with your contributions. When you create what you wish existed, you're not just making something for yourself—you're potentially making something that others have been waiting for too. Remember, all fiction is fan fiction at some level. We make art because we like art. The creative impulse often begins with loving something so much that you want more of it—so much that you're driven to create it yourself.

Chapter 4: Use Your Hands to Unlock Your Mind

In our digital age, we've lost the physical connection to our creative work. We type on keyboards and click mouse buttons, but we rarely engage our hands in tangible creation. This disconnection can lead to what Kleon calls "the digital handicap"—the feeling that we're not really making anything. The artist Stanley Donwood described it perfectly when he said computers put "a sheet of glass between you and whatever is happening." Kleon discovered this truth when working on his book "Newspaper Blackout." Instead of creating digital poetry, he used physical newspapers and markers. The process engaged all his senses—the feel of the paper, the smell of the marker, the sound of the marker tip on newsprint. This tactile experience transformed the work from labor into play and yielded more creative results than working exclusively on a computer. When Kleon needed to sequence his poetry collection, he followed an analog-to-digital loop—first scanning the poems, then printing them as small cards he could physically arrange on his office floor. Only after finding the right sequence by hand did he recreate it digitally. This hybrid approach capitalized on the strengths of both methods: physical manipulation for creative thinking, digital tools for refinement and distribution. To incorporate more hands-on work into your creative process, set up two workstations if possible—one analog and one digital. Keep the analog station free from electronics, stocked only with physical materials like paper, pens, scissors, and tape. Use this space for ideation and play. Then move to the digital station to refine and publish your work. Even if you can't have separate workstations, find ways to bring physical creation into your process. Sketch ideas before designing on a computer. Print drafts and edit with a pen. Build physical models or prototypes. Stand up and move around while thinking through problems. The connection between physical movement and mental breakthrough is scientifically supported. Our nerves aren't a one-way street—our bodies inform our brains as much as our brains direct our bodies. When you engage your hands in creation, you activate different neural pathways and often bypass the critical, editing mind that can block creativity when working digitally.

Chapter 5: Establish Creative Habits That Last

Creativity isn't about waiting for inspiration to strike—it's about establishing consistent habits that allow creative work to flourish. Kleon emphasizes that the romantic image of the creative genius fueled by chaos and substance abuse is not only unhealthy but counterproductive. Instead, he advocates for what Gustave Flaubert called being "regular and orderly in your life, so you may be violent and original in your work." Kleon shares how maintaining a stable daily routine enables his creative output. He keeps a calendar where he marks each day he completes his creative work with a big X, creating a visual chain he doesn't want to break. This method, popularized by comedian Jerry Seinfeld, transforms abstract creative goals into concrete daily actions. "Don't break the chain" becomes a powerful motivator when you can see your progress mapped out visually. Alongside his calendar, Kleon maintains a logbook—a simple record of what he does each day. Unlike a detailed journal, a logbook just tracks basic information: what project he worked on, where he went, who he met. This practice serves as both documentation and motivation, allowing him to see patterns in his creative life and remember details that might inspire future work. The foundation of these creative habits is what Kleon calls "being boring." This means taking care of your health, managing your finances responsibly, and maintaining a sustainable lifestyle. He points out that creative energy is finite, and wasting it on drama or excess leaves little for your work. He advises creatives to eat well, exercise, get enough sleep, and live within their means. To establish your own creative habits, start by identifying a small daily action related to your creative work—writing one page, sketching for fifteen minutes, practicing an instrument for half an hour. Choose a specific time for this activity and protect it fiercely. Mark your calendar each day you complete it, building your chain of Xs. Accept that maintaining a day job while pursuing creative work isn't a failure—it's often necessary and beneficial. A steady job provides financial stability, human connection, and a structured routine within which creative habits can thrive. The key is finding a job that doesn't completely drain your energy or contradict your values.

Chapter 6: Share Your Work and Build Community

Many creators struggle with the question of when to share their work. Kleon offers a refreshingly simple answer: share your work as you go. The internet has removed the gatekeepers, allowing anyone to put their creative work into the world. But this isn't just about distribution—sharing becomes an integral part of the creative process itself. Kleon describes how creating his website became a motivating force. The reverse-chronological nature of blogs means you're only as good as your last post, creating a gentle pressure to keep producing. Having this "container" inspired him to fill it. Whenever he felt lost creatively, he would look at his website and ask, "What can I fill this with?" This simple question would get him working again. When Kleon started sharing his newspaper blackout poems online, something unexpected happened. Others began creating their own blackout poetry and sharing it with him. This community of practice became a source of inspiration and learning. He discovered that teaching others his technique didn't diminish his work—it enhanced it by creating a conversation around it. Kleon compares this approach to figures like Bob Ross and Martha Stewart, who freely shared their techniques and secrets. "People love it when you give your secrets away," he writes, noting that this generosity often comes back to you in the form of support, feedback, and opportunities. The internet becomes not just a showcase for finished work but an incubator for ideas still forming. To begin sharing your work effectively, start small. You don't need to reveal everything at once. Share a sketch, a draft, a brief excerpt, or a glimpse of your process. Use whatever platforms feel comfortable—a blog, social media, or a simple newsletter. The key is consistency and authenticity. Share what genuinely interests you and might be valuable to others. If you're worried about criticism or rejection, remember that obscurity is a greater threat than negative feedback. As Kleon puts it, "You want attention only after you're doing really good work." Early obscurity is actually a gift—it gives you freedom to experiment and improve without pressure. Embrace this time rather than rushing past it. The community you build by sharing your work becomes invaluable—not just for emotional support but for creative growth. These connections often lead to collaborations, opportunities, and friendships that transcend geographical limitations. In the digital age, your creative community can exist anywhere, connecting you with kindred spirits across the globe.

Chapter 7: Embrace Constraints to Fuel Creativity

The idea of limitless creative possibilities sounds liberating but often leads to paralysis. When you can do anything, it's hard to do something. Kleon argues that constraints—whether they're limitations of time, materials, or format—actually enable creativity rather than hindering it. Constraints provide the structure within which innovation can flourish. Kleon shares the famous example of Dr. Seuss writing "Green Eggs and Ham" using only 50 different words after his editor bet him he couldn't do it. The constraint led to one of the best-selling children's books of all time. Similarly, Jack White of The White Stripes deliberately uses cheap, difficult instruments because, as he puts it, "Telling yourself you have all the time in the world, all the money in the world, all the colors in the palette, anything you want—that just kills creativity." In Kleon's own work, constraints proved essential. When creating his newspaper blackout poems, he limited himself to using only existing newspaper articles and a black marker. These constraints forced him to think creatively within boundaries, leading to unexpected discoveries and a distinctive style that might never have emerged with unlimited options. The constraints we face are often practical—limited time between work and family responsibilities, modest budgets, or limited access to materials and tools. Rather than seeing these as obstacles, we can view them as creative frameworks. Kleon advises not to waste energy making excuses about what you lack, but instead to "make things with the time, space, and materials you have, right now." To apply this principle, try imposing artificial constraints on your next creative project. Write a story using only 100 words. Create art using only three colors. Record music using only objects found in your kitchen. Film a video in a single room. These self-imposed limitations force you to focus on what matters most and often lead to more interesting work than an anything-goes approach. Remember that creativity isn't just about what you put in—it's equally about what you leave out. As artist Saul Steinberg said, "What we respond to in any work of art is the artist's struggle against his or her limitations." By embracing your constraints rather than fighting them, you transform potential roadblocks into pathways to your most distinctive and compelling work.

Summary

The journey to authentic creativity is not about conjuring something from nothing, but about collecting influences, transforming them through your unique perspective, and sharing them with the world. Throughout this exploration, we've discovered that creativity thrives not in isolation but in connection—with ideas, with our physical senses, with habits, with community, and even with constraints. As Picasso reminded us, "Art is theft"—but it's the kind of theft that honors its sources while building something new. Your creative path begins today, with a simple action: collect something that inspires you. Start a swipe file. Carry a notebook. Copy work you admire until your own voice emerges. Make what you wish existed. Use your hands. Establish a daily creative habit. Share your process with others. Embrace your limitations. In these practices, you'll discover that creativity isn't a rare gift for the chosen few but a natural capacity we all possess—one that grows stronger with each act of creative "theft" and transformation.

About Author

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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/

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