William Goldman’s Benediction for Creatives

And to all that [young film school] talent let me say, where the hell have you been and I wish you joy…

… and may you ignore the critics when they attack you, and pay no attention to their praise…

… and may you please remember when your scenes are sludge, that screenplays are structure…

… and may you have peers as willing to improve your project as you must be; treat them kindly, for they will save your ass many times over…

… and may you always remember “it’s only a movie” but never forget there are lots of worse things than movies—like politicians…

… and may you be lucky enough and skilled enough to make some glorious moments for all those people out there sitting in the dark, as earlier craftsmen created such moments for you…

… and finally and most of all, may all your scars be little ones.

William Goldman

Hayao Miyazaki on His Life’s Work


Hayao Miyazahi on His Life’s Work


All that work you’re doing on your company, your reputation, your skills, maybe it all comes to a moment like this.

You’re 72, you just finished a project that took you two and a half years of constant, steady work, you’re on the garden roof of a building your company designed, where you’ve spent the majority of your life for the past 20 years, and you can sense how pointless it is to imagine it all somehow staying together.

“It’s just a name” you say with equal parts broken-heart and indifferent wisdom.

And then you get distracted by a perfect moment of sunlight and leaves.


This was from a documentary on Studio Ghibli called The Kingdom of Dreams and Madness. If you’ve loved Miyazaki worlds like Totoro and Spirited Away you’ll love this film.

This scene struck hard. He’s lived the way I find myself dreaming about and here he is at the end and he’s just as full of dissatisfaction, sorrow, creativity and expectation.

I said this to my friend who was stressing over having kids or not: “In the end everybody loses. It’s not like some people win and others lose. Everyone loses. Nobody wins in the end. This being so, what kind of adventure do you want to have? For myself (and I didn’t know this at the time), my son is the best adventure I’ve found. Nothing else in my life is as dangerous or joyful or exhausting, nothing else — no movie, company or creation — elicits the depth of feeling from within me that my sons have.”

The kid stuff is my story. Regardless of where you land on that, the first bit is true: you’re going to lose in the end and you won’t be able to take anything with you. You could build the best goddam company and bring more magic to people than any of your contemporaries… and you’ll still stand somewhere at the end recognizing that whether it persists or falls apart won’t be up to you. And then the wind will brush your hair and face and you’ll get distracted by something beautiful regardless.

This being so, what kind of adventure do you want to have?

Jim Henson’s First Commercials

In 1957, Jim Henson was approached by a Washington, D.C. coffee company to produce commercials for Wilkins Coffee. The local stations only had ten seconds for station identification, so the Muppet commercials had to be lightning-fast — essentially, eight seconds for the commercial pitch and a two-second shot of the product.

From 1957 to 1961, Henson made 179 commercials for Wilkins Coffee […] The ads were so successful and well-liked that they sparked a series of remakes for companies in other local markets throughout the 1960s.

The ads starred the cheerful Wilkins, who liked Wilkins Coffee, and the grumpy Wontkins, who hated it. Wilkins would often do serious harm to Wontkins in the ads — blowing him up, stabbing him with a knife, and smashing him with a club, among many other violent acts.


Once I get past the crazy violence all I can think of is: goddam that’s a lot of variations on a theme!

What if, in the next thing I make, I forced myself to make 100 different versions of the thing? The value of each idea goes down, but the cumulative effect is much different.

More interesting to me is whether or not I could even come up with 100 versions of anything. Seems like a hell of a task.

Bob Dylan on Being Creative

If you sang “John Henry” as many times as me – “John Henry was a steel-driving man / Died with a hammer in his hand / John Henry said a man ain’t nothin’ but a man / Before I let that steam drill drive me down / I’ll die with that hammer in my hand.”

If you had sung that song as many times as I did, you’d have written “How many roads must a man walk down?” too.

Bob Dylan


Wow. What a great and rambly read.