We've Turned Creativity Talk into Baloney

When it comes to creativity, a lot of what we hear is—frankly—nonsense.

We love talking about “inspiration” and “flow” as if creativity descends from the heavens. In bookstores, podcasts, and YouTube thumbnails, creativity is sold as a spark you just have to unlock. But behind the glow of motivational quotes and algorithm-friendly pep talks, there’s a problem: this framing skips over the real engine of creativity—hard, sustained work.

Stephen Pressfield’s The War of Art popularized the idea of Resistance—the invisible force that keeps us from doing the work. It’s a powerful metaphor, and millions of creatives have resonated with it. But here’s the danger: personifying Resistance as some external, spiritual enemy can become an excuse.

If Resistance is outside of you, then it isn’t really your fault when you don’t show up. But often, what we call “Resistance” is simply a lack of skill, training, or knowledge. You can’t spend a few hours in a kiddie ball pit and expect to emerge a bodybuilder. In the same way, you can’t dabble in your art for a weekend and expect mastery to arrive.

Too much of the creativity conversation treats practice as “paying your dues.” As if practice is something to endure before you can finally do the real work. But the practice is the real work. The grind shapes your muscles, your voice, and your creative instincts.

Look at musicians running scales, writers filling notebooks, or animators sketching poses until their hands ache. That repetition isn’t drudgery—it’s training. It’s where skill is carved, not where it’s delayed.

Scroll through Instagram or TikTok and you’ll see endless promises: “Unlock your inner genius in five steps.” “Just subscribe and you’ll discover your creative flow.”

This is the kind of candy-coated baloney that keeps people chasing shortcuts instead of building discipline. A halo doesn’t fall on your head just because you hit play on someone else’s content. Watching tutorials without practice is like buying cookbooks you never open—you’ll stay hungry.

The truth is less glamorous, but far more empowering: creativity is earned. Not in the sense of suffering or sacrifice, but in the sense of training your muscles—mental, emotional, and technical—over time.

You don’t find your voice by waiting for inspiration. You find it by working through bad drafts, failed sketches, and awkward performances. The magic isn’t in escaping Resistance, but in embracing practice as the doorway to growth.

Instead of mystifying creativity, we need to normalize the craft of it. Treat creativity like athletics. Show up. Train daily. Expect fatigue. Expect failure. But also expect that, over time, the work itself will shape you into an artist capable of surprising yourself—and others.

The baloney version of creativity whispers that you’re one podcast away from genius. The real version is tougher, but infinitely more rewarding: put in the work, and the work will make you.