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Steal Like an Artist: Lessons in Creativity

In 2012, Austin Kleon introduced us to Steal Like an Artist, a book that redefines creativity by claiming that nothing is truly original. Everything has already been said or done before, and that’s okay. Rather than striving to create something from thin air, we can embrace the art of borrowing, remixing, and building upon what inspires us. Kleon doesn’t stop at philosophy—he offers practical tools to nurture creativity, tools that have been pivotal for me.

I Am a Mashup of What I Love

If you ask me who I am, the answer would be a collage of the things and stories I adore. I often find myself reflecting on Elizabeth Bennet’s quick wit and fiery independence, wondering, What would she do in my shoes? At other times, I daydream about Charlotte Brontë, wishing I could ask her if Edward Rochester’s brooding charm was inspired by her own love story with Arthur Bell.

Pearl S. Buck’s East Wind, West Wind introduced me to the life of Kwei-lan, a Chinese woman who defied traditions to marry a foreigner in the early 1900s. These women—real and fictional—were created during times of societal upheaval, war, and revolution, and they’ve left an indelible mark on me.

I crave stories that resonate, that stay with you like the hum of a melody you can’t shake. And yet, these stories don’t merely inspire me; they compel me to create my own. As Kleon so brilliantly puts it, I’m learning to "steal like an artist."

At the Brink of Chaos and Creation

Before discovering Kleon’s book, I felt like I was teetering on the edge of creation. I had this nagging sense that I could make something significant because I could see it in my mind—but it just wouldn’t come to life.

What Kleon taught me is this: creativity doesn’t come from a vacuum. It comes from everything that stirs your soul, everything you consume and remix into something that feels uniquely yours. It’s your voice, slipping through the cracks of everything that inspires you.

When we understand that originality is just forgotten inspiration brought back to light, it frees us to create boldly and provoke others to remember, too.

Key Takeaways from Steal Like an Artist

1. Write About What You Love

Growing up, my mom and two aunts were my biggest supporters and critics when it came to writing. My mom, a History of Law professor, is a meticulous researcher and writer, spending hours in libraries. One aunt plays the accordion and sketches; the other understands literary nuance and speaks fluent French. Together, they nurtured my creativity but also taught me the importance of coherence.

Their mantra? “Write about what you know.” It’s practical advice, but it also felt like a creativity killer. How could I dream big if I was tethered to the safety net of familiarity?

Kleon flips this on its head. Write not just about what you know, but about what you love. That’s where the magic happens. I write about what excites me—stories set in late 19th and early 20th-century England or Korea—because those worlds make me come alive.

2. Creativity is Methodical

Before Kleon, my ideas lived scattered across notebooks, group chats, and half-forgotten scraps of paper. It was chaotic, overwhelming, and—frankly—unsustainable.

Kleon’s advice? Keep a morgue file—a central place to record everything that inspires you. Write it down, file it, and make it easy to find later. I’ve started keeping a ledger, and it’s already made my creative process smoother.

He also suggests separating your workspace into two: one for work, one for play. My creative desk now includes candles, flowers, and a direct view of the outside world. But the real game-changer? Using my hands. Handwriting forces me to let go of perfectionism and focus on creating without judgment. My wrist is sore as I write this, but I’m finally creating.

3. Your Role Models Are Your Mentors

Kleon argues that we should immerse ourselves in the works of those who inspire us. Read what they read, think how they think, and let that influence your voice. This “genealogy of creativity” helps you uncover the threads that resonate most deeply with you and weave them into something uniquely yours.

For me, it’s finding bits of Austen, Brontë, Buck, and even anime like Your Name in my work. It’s not copying; it’s learning to speak through their echoes, adding my own perspective.

4. Share Your Work

This is the scariest lesson for me. Sharing creative work feels like exposing a raw nerve. But Kleon insists that sharing is part of the process. It invites feedback, helps you refine your ideas, and connects you with a community of like-minded creators.

I’m learning to embrace this vulnerability, to “do it wrong” as Kleon advises, and to trust that the act of sharing will only make me better.

Creativity Is Yours for the Taking

Kleon’s book is a call to action for anyone on the brink of chaos and creation. Steal from what inspires you. Find your voice in the overlap of what you love and what moves you. Share your work, even if it terrifies you.

To close, I’ll leave you with Kleon’s words: “Do it wrong.” Because the wrong way often leads to something extraordinary.