You can’t make anything honest without lying to yourself first.
The creative process doesn’t start with confidence. It starts with make-believe. You lie to yourself just enough to get moving, and hope the truth catches up later.
That’s the part no one really talks about. Not in the TED Talks, not in the productivity guides from Instagram gurus, not in the self-help books about flow state and morning routines. The creative process, for all its aura and romanticism, is a scam. There’s nothing inherently false about it. But to even begin, you have to believe something that isn’t true yet.
There’s a quote I keep coming back to, one I’ve had to learn the hard way:
You won’t make it if you wait until you believe in yourself. You have to start with make-believe.
No one starts making something because they’re overflowing with confidence. That’s a myth. Most of the time, you’re just sitting there, staring at the thing. Blank page. Empty canvas. A screen that’s already judged you. Trying to talk yourself into starting. You tell yourself a story you don’t fully believe. That this might matter. That it might actually work. That maybe, if you stick with it long enough, something good could come out the other side.
It’s not vision or discipline or even inspiration that gets you going. It’s pretending. Pretending you know what you’re doing. Pretending the effort is worth it. Pretending that this stupid little half-baked idea might eventually turn into something tangible.
We call this imposter syndrome and tell each other to fight it, fix it, or push through it. But what if it’s not a flaw in the process, but it’s the process itself? Confidence is crafted, not discovered. You don’t find it, you fake it until the work makes it true.
This is the part we rarely admit.
Creative people aren’t more confident than others. If anything, they’re just more practiced at faking it. They’ve learned how to move under uncertain conditions, to work with shaky hands and oxymoronic thoughts. And eventually, if the work is consistent enough or resonant enough or simply survives long enough, it starts to talk back. It begins to justify itself. The performance of belief becomes something close to real belief.
That’s what makes it feel like a scam. You’re betting on something that doesn’t exist yet. You have to suspend your own disbelief before you ask anyone else to. And that suspension is the real work, not the typing or sketching or editing, but the part where you choose to believe.
You’re the first person it has to convince.
And even then, after all that, you’re not guaranteed anything. Not success or clarity. Not even satisfaction. Sometimes the thing flops, sometimes it almost works. Sometimes it just sits there, unfinished, daring you to try again.
But none of that means it wasn’t real or that it wasn’t worth it.
The real scam is waiting until you’re certain. That version of you never shows up. The one who feels ready. Who knows exactly what to say. Who’s no longer afraid. That person is a ghost.
So you learn to move without them.
You lie to yourself, just enough to begin. And if you’re lucky, or just stubborn, the work slowly makes a liar out of your doubt.
Just start the scam.
Keep creating and repeating,
Zack
Some Personal News
We’re having a baby!
Most of you probably don’t know me, but this felt like a good time to reintroduce myself and my wife and cofounder, Morgan. We’re really excited for this next creation!
Someone commented on our announcement, “Mom and Dad created and repeated.” We couldn’t have said it better.
🧠 The Subtext Resource Library: A curated stack of websites, brands, and articles from the worlds of design, business, and storytelling.
🧸 Brian Moore: An artist designing cultural provocations that playfully comment on modern life.
🔧 Fictive Kin – Web Systems: Big thoughts on small tools. This microsite explores how structure, aesthetics, and clarity intersect in modern web-building.
🏀 NBA Uniform Tracker: A look at the data behind the increasingly vibrant (and maybe a little confusing) landscape of NBA jerseys.
Know someone writing on Substack?
We’re always looking to feature more voices from the community in our Talent Show section. If you or someone you know are using this platform to share your creativity, fill out the form below. We’d love to see what you’re working on.
Create.Repeat is a community for creatives.
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
Each week we will be sharing recent thoughts on creativity, some links helping us stay creative, and a talent show featuring an artist from the community. Thank you for engaging with us.
History repeats. Create the future.
Time will pass whether you do The Thing or don't. Might as well Do It!