No You Don’t, Oprah
How we kill ideas before they’ve had a chance, and what to do instead.
“If you are going to be creative, you have to be in a state of play. You can’t play if you’re being careful—if you’re trying not to make mistakes. It destroys creativity completely. Because you can have a new idea, you can’t immediately say that’s a mistake until you’ve explored it.” – John Cleese
When I think about the most pivotal moments in my creative career—the opportunities that led to something bigger, the projects that stretched me, the collaborations that became lifelong partnerships—they almost always started the same way: I said yes.
Not because I knew exactly what I was getting into. Not because I had the perfect plan. I said yes because I was willing to enter a space where I didn’t have all the answers. And that space, what John Cleese calls “a state of play,” is where the real magic happens.
When you’re in that state, you’re not protecting yourself from mistakes. You’re not editing as you go. You’re not pre-screening every thought through the lens of whether it fits your brand or your existing skills. You’re allowing the possibility that something new and unexpected might show up. And if you only ever accept the ideas that feel safe, you’ll keep making the same work you’ve always made.
Recently, I’ve been watching a Netflix show called Hit Makers. It’s a behind-the-scenes look at a songwriting camp where some of the biggest names in pop music come together to create. The producers intentionally mix them into new groups every day and challenge them to write a hit song. The goal is to push people outside their comfort zones and see what happens.
What’s fascinating is how quickly you can spot who thrives in this environment. The songwriters who do best are the ones who light up at the first spark of an idea, no matter where it comes from. They don’t pause to judge whether it fits their style. They don’t try to steer the session toward what they’re used to. They jump in, start adding, start building. It’s not about their ego, it’s about the song.
Then there are the other writers. The ones who hang back. The ones who wait for an idea that matches exactly what they already do. The ones who, intentionally or not, send the message, “I’ll participate when we’re working in my lane.” Their songs tend to feel flat and predictable, like they never left the starting gate.
The difference between those two groups isn’t talent. It’s openness. It’s the willingness to say yes before you know how it will turn out.
This isn’t just a music thing. It’s also the heartbeat of improv.
(Don’t roll your eyes)
In improv, the number one rule is “Yes, and…” You accept whatever your scene partner throws at you, and then you build on it. You don’t shut it down. You don’t redirect it to something that’s more comfortable for you. You accept it as truth in the moment, and then you raise the stakes.
There’s a scene from 30 Rock that nails what happens when you do the opposite. It’s a flashback to Liz and Jenna doing improv in college. The audience suggestion is “Sling Blade and Oprah on a date.” Liz jumps in first with an obvious Sling Blade impression: “I sure do like them french-fried potaters.” And Jenna, without missing a beat, kills the momentum with, “No you don’t, Oprah.”
It’s a 10/10 joke. But it’s also a perfect example of bad improv.
And if I’m being honest, a lot of us work like Jenna. Someone offers an idea, or an opportunity comes along, and instead of playing with it, we shut it down. We want to control the direction. We want to make sure it’s aligned with our style, our strengths, and our vision. But in doing so, we cut off the very thing that might have made it interesting.
This tendency doesn’t just show up when we’re working with other people. It shows up when we’re working alone.
How many times have you had an idea pop into your head, only to immediately dismiss it? How often do you tell yourself it’s not worth pursuing before you’ve even tried? When you do that, you’re not just a bad collaborator with others; you’re a bad collaborator with yourself.
The next time you have an idea, try letting it live for five minutes before you judge it. Write down the first version. Push it a little further. See where it goes. You might find it’s not worth keeping, but you might also find it’s the start of something you never would have planned.
Saying yes doesn’t mean agreeing to everything forever. It means keeping the door open long enough to explore what’s behind it.
Safe ideas rarely surprise you. But the ones that catch you off guard, that make you nervous or excited or even a little uncomfortable, are the ones that can lead somewhere new.
Don’t “No you don’t, Oprah” your own creativity. Give it room to breathe. Say yes.
Keep creating and repeating,
Zack
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The Create.Repeat Substack is a project designed to be a weekly diary on creativity. Sharing inspiration for artists to keep creating and repeating.
Written and curated by Zack Evans & James Warren Taylor
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