“Manifest your dreams” has become something of a new-age cliché.
But since my long-ago days in corporate software marketing, I have been fascinated by the mysterious process through which an idea in someone’s head becomes a thing in reality. The process applies not only to objects like gaming consoles, electric blankets, and books but also to experiences like concerts and dinner parties (and panel discussions).
I experience the idea-to-reality process—sometimes painfully—every time I write a book. Every time, I swear I will never go through it again.
And then I do.
My most recent idea-to-reality experience
For the last several months, I’ve been working to create an event about generative artificial intelligence as it relates to creative professionals. What began as a dim glimmer in my mind last winter will become an actual experience for other people on September 30! I’m excited (and a little nervous).
I hope the story of how my idea became material can help you transform the electrical brain-spark of your dream—whether to make a meal, arrange a gathering, or write a book—from mere idea to vibrant, living experience.
Follow your interests, experiment.
Rewind to late February, 2023. I was fascinated with the new phenomenon called chatGPT, a generative artificial intelligence (AI) tool that was taking the world by storm, and had been experimenting with it. I read everything about AI that crossed my path, like this Pew Research Report.
I began asking chatGPT questions about my current work in progress (and wrote about the experience). I requested that it pull salient points from paragraphs I had written into a bulleted list. Its performance on both counts was serviceable, if not outstanding.
I even used chatGPT as a writing coach for a time, and described the experience on Jane Friedman’s blog.
Think, dream, talk.
My son (who is a musician and digital artist) and I began regularly discussing generative AI. Our conversations sometimes went on for hours as we mulled over our experiences with the technology and wrestled with what it might mean to us as creative artists and humans.
Many writers are scared—and justifiably so—by what the newly accessible and rapidly evolving application of AI could mean for our livelihoods.
"Wouldn't it be interesting," I thought after one of our marathon phone calls, "to gather a group of creative people for a conversation about generative AI?"
That was step one of the idea-to-reality process.
Next came the sketching.
Speak, express, communicate.
What would such a conversation look like? Who would participate? What would we talk about? What form would it take?
When my idea was well-formed enough to articulate—I conceived of it as a panel discussion—I moved to step two: stating my intention. I shared the idea first with my Birth Your Truest Story co-creator, Jennifer, then with family and friends.
Sharing was crucial. Speaking an intention aloud to other humans imbues an idea with life beyond the brain of the speaker.
Make a plan.
The make-a-plan part of manifesting an idea is the one I’m most comfortable with. I’ve always been obsessively meticulously detail-oriented and I'm a sucker for a good to-do list, which helps when you’re creating something from nothing.
Now came the practical questions. When would the event happen? Where? Could I enlist help?
In answering the last question, I immediately thought of another artist community I belong to, Shuffle Collective. They graciously agreed to be a partner on the event.
Take action.
My next actions unfolded from there and included:
identifying potential panelists,
contacting them to find a mutually convenient time for the event,
figuring out everyone's roles
writing a description,
making a myriad of decisions about times/dates/costs, and
designing an experience that would be fun and informative not only for the audience but also for the panelists.
The last action item turned out to be something of a tall order.
I wanted to avoid the "talking head" phenomenon, wherein the “experts” sit on stage and pontificate while the audience is left out. Nor did I relish the discussion turning into a YouTube style debate that would devolve into (at best) people talking past each other or (at worst) shouting at one another.
Welcome serendipity.
By chance as I was considering how to skirt these pitfalls, I attended a wonderful online event hosted by Shuffle Collective member Allie Rigby. She introduced me to the event presenter, dialogue specialist and translator Monica Cure.
As soon as I learned about Monica’s unique approach to facilitating group conversations, I knew that community dialogue would be a perfect methodology and container for exploring the questions around generative AI and creativity.
Final step: let go.
Now you have insight into the path that led from a neural impulse in my brain alone to an experience in the world that you can be part of. In less than a week, my idea baby is about to be born. I already feel like a proud parent.
But I have learned from parenting that ideas, like children, can have ideas of their own. Which is to say that even the most meticulous plans and the most heartfelt intentions can go in directions we never intend. I need to be prepared for anything.
That unpredictability is also the fun of creation.
Until you apply the last brushstrokes, type the last words of the last draft, or sign off the Zoom event, there is always room for the unexpected to emerge.
If you're interested in the future of creativity, language, literature, music, and art, join me for Of Two Minds: A Human-Led Discourse on Generative AI on Saturday, September 30 at 9am Pacific.
Thanks for sharing your process with us. Wish I was going to be in town for the panel--it sounds fascinating!
Can't wait to attend!