Starting something new is never easy. But artists, musicians, and creators of all types have to do it daily. Some people say to me, “How can you do that? I’d wander off and clean my house or watch TV instead.” Well, it’s the bane as well as the blessing of being in a creative field that you are often faced with a blank piece of paper, or canvas, or screen, and you have to begin right there. The good news is that what you put there is up to you, and of course that’s the bad news, too.

But what’s new is seldom totally, utterly new. Writers receive source materials to study and write from. Illustrators research photographic or live material to draw from. A studio painter reviews preliminary sketches or photos.

And the creative person knows better than to hesitate in front of the blank screen/paper/canvas. You just start. Once you make a mark or enter a word you can change it, but at least you’ve begun and that’s irrevocable. Also comforting. You may even bang a few pages of text out before breakfast, as a start on that book you’ve had in mind, then set it aside and later read it with amazement: “I’ve started it! Not too bad right there. Kind of corny in this part, but hey, here’s what I’ll do with this…” And you’re off.

Creating something new, and doing it fairly often, might be good therapy. It may not matter how grand or how humble the creation is. And it certainly has side benefits. The fact that I can create something regularly, because someone asks me to, proves to me that I can also do it anytime I ask myself to.

Here’s the biggest bonus: regular exercise of this sort of creativity keeps you in training for the moment when you hit a gleaming lode of inspiration and suddenly you’ve created something even newer than the other new things you’ve done. That’s when the fictional world, the visual concept, or the story plot that you haven’t yet been able to put your finger on, suddenly shows up ready to be given physical form.