I’ve just recently had a son come out of the womb and into the world. He’s our second child now and you’d better believe I’m one proud papa. Yeah, It’s pretty awesome. I must say, his arrival has sparked many a thought about life, fatherhood, and even creativity into my sleep-deprived mind.

One thing I’ve considered is how his relationship with his older sister will develop. I think back on my own relationships with my siblings and how it has changed over the years. I hope the two will be good friends and that, together, they’ll be better humans than they would have been without the other.

This got me thinking about competition, specifically the creative sort. I think competition can be a very healthy thing, but it can also be harmful with the wrong motivation. I think it’s great for kids to compete against each other; it pushes them to try harder and do better than they would have otherwise. 

Competition teaches the victor the reward of hard work and the defeated how to deal with failure. It provides an excellent opportunity for all involved to learn about good sportsmanship. 

But I’ve seen many adults take competition to a nasty place, where they are driven by a constant need to prove themselves, to outdo everyone else. A place where they are never satisfied with what they have, but must continue to outdo themselves or feel like an utter failure. They live by an impossible standard. I think it’s one reason why the use of performance enhancers like steroids has become such an issue in professional sports. 

This attitude can be just as true in creative circles. Writers, cooks, film directors, musicians, fashion designers, etc. can get to a place where they must do better than everyone else or they feel like a failure. This sort will never pass an opportunity to attack their competition. They will cheat to get ahead if that’s what it takes. In the end, this behavior hurts creativity, rather than promotes it.

It’s like being a hoarder with your creativity, unwilling to share, in case there won’t be enough appreciation and admiration to go around. Just like hoarders, such a life becomes disgusting very quickly and it inevitably drives everyone else away.

Instead, why not share what you have and encourage your peers to do the same? Teach someone less experienced than you and speak well of your competitors. The world is big enough for every creative to find an audience. As a writer, the more I work on writing well and help others to do the same, the better writing there will be available and, as a result the more readers we’ll find to enjoy our work.

Yes, creative competition is great. I think C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien were good examples of this. But, just as in their case, creativity should be seen as a team effort, one based on encouraging others to press upward and onward to become more creative.


Creatively yours,

A.P. Lambert


Hey Creatives, do you find competition to be a boon or a hinderance to your creativity? Let us know in the comments below.

story from a word - part 2


It’s been a while since I offered up one of these. Based on a writing assignment from my class with David Farland, the goal is to write a brief narrative paragraph based on one word. You may recall my last one, Horse.

Without further ado, here it is, story from a word, Part Deux.


To say the building was dilapidated would be a gross understatement. Unlivable would be closer to the truth. Dangerous, now that was a fine word. Its moss-covered roof sagged so low on one side that it could be reached from the ground without the aid of a ladder or step-stool. The glass in its windows had been punched out like decayed teeth long ago. Even the boards once nailed over the windows had now fallen off, leaving the building with an eerie, vacant expression. Most of the steps leading to the entrance were either broken in half or missing altogether. A pathetic pile of bricks now slouched where a chimney once stood. Tangled vines criss-crossed up the rotted-out paneled siding of the house, pulling it down into the swampy earth. Long ago, the building had been constructed from the trees of the bayou and now, it seemed, the bayou wanted its lumber back. And to think, a family once called it home.


Give it a try: write your own narrative paragraph based on the word, "house," then share it here. I'd love to see what you come up with.

how to feel

One of the biggest most reoccurring questions I have had in my head for the past year or so is this: 

“How am I supposed to feel?”

As I’m sure you’re well aware, the news of the world can leave us numb.

Why, when I first started composing this post, I had just read about the Cambodian genocide, DNA hacking and designer babies, the sexual exploitation crisis in the Philippines, massive air pollution in India and China. And that was all on the front page of one website.

I've let this post sit for a while. What could I say? What is there to say in light of all the constant tragedy all over the globe, all the unsettling trends?

But I think if there is any answer to my question, keeping silent and shutting up is not it. So now you’re reading this.

I often consider: does knowing all the bad going on in the world actually help? Does it improve the many global problems? Does it stem the tides of injustice?

For the most part, I don’t believe so. But, on the other hand, can we wisely ignore it all and just keep our heads buried in our own little worlds? Doesn't seem right either.

There is a great quandary when it comes to the news. You can hardly live with it yet you shouldn’t remain ignorant to it.

So where is the line? What am I, as an adult and citizen of a country with significant global power, responsible to know and care about?

I recently watched this video of Trevor Noah from The Daily Show responding to the Philando Castile verdict.

Trevor said it broke him. I wanted to be, felt I should be broken too. In honesty, I think I’m just numb. I was saddened, for sure, and I can’t stop thinking about it, but I was not broken.

It seems every day there is a new tragedy to behold. How can a person take it all in? What is the appropriate response?

As Sufjan Stevens sings in The Only Thing

"Should I tear my eyes out now, before I see too much?"

I read this article a while back titled The Problem of Caring. The author describes how she has gone between seasons of being intensely focused on the news and then shutting it off completely along with the consequences of each.

From the article: 

Saul Bellow in 1973: “Our media make crisis chatter out of news and fill our minds with anxious phantoms of the real thing,” setting off “endless circuits of anxious calculation.” He was writing this in 1973.
This gap between information and insight, between awareness and empathic action, it turns out, is critical.
For anyone with a serviceable internet connection— the phantoms have multiplied a million fold, the circuit expanded to new dimensions. When I read stories of suffering, I still feel something. It seems inhuman not to. At the same time, I’m more aware than ever of how little my feeling is worth, of how, if we are to truly keep alive the conditions that make ethical life possible— it is not empathy that’s needed, but insight, organization, and action.

The author concludes, “I wondered if the sharing of stories and honest dialogue and saying the difficult thing, not just on Facebook but to actual other human beings, is a small but real antidote to fear.”

So where am I in all this? Still figuring it out.

I think the author makes a good point, that we need to have more open conversations with face-to-face people who care. 

But I do believe we need empathy, just as much as insight, organization, and action. True empathy is what leads to those other three.

That is the difference between sympathy and empathy. The former causes you to feel something but the latter moves you to identify with the other, to share in part with the person who is hurting.

More than hearing about hurting people and tragedy, we should aim to be around them, to identify with them. Not exactly a fun goal; no one wants to be hurt. Whether intentional or not, we can lock ourselves in to our safe and comfortable lives, away from the hurt and brokenness of the world. We can run as far and as fast away from it as possible.

It takes serious effort to spend time with hurting people. It's not our natural inclination and it's not easy. But unless we're willing to do it, I don't think we can be whole, I don't think we can feel the way we should.

Only when we are around people who are broken, can our own hearts, numbed from the tidal waves of bad news, actually be broken in the way a heart should be.

As my pastor Rudy once said,

“When you’re never around people, your heart will never break.”

I originally wanted to title this post, When you feel too much. But I remembered that’s very close to the name of a book by Jamie Tworkowski, founder of To Write Love on Her Arms. His  organization assists people struggling with depression, addiction, self-injury, and suicide.

I appreciate people like Jamie Tworkowski or Jeremy Courtney from Preemptive Love Coalition, who work on ground zero of the refugee crisis. They are making a difference, shining light on the dark.

Sure, we may not all be called to start a big nonprofit in order to help the hurting, but we all can reach one hurting person. Anyone can give a hug, buy a lunch, or invite them over just to talk.

I still often don’t know how I’m supposed to feel, but I know who I am supposed to love, and that is every person I meet.

Yeah, it’s a very tall order, but I’m working on it. How about you?

on time

Time is a funny thing, and I don’t necessarily mean humorous. 

It sneaks up on you, surprises you and shouts, “gotcha!”

Time, you little trickster, quit doing that!

Yes, we have many expressions for the way we feel about time. It flies. It marches on. Sometimes it stands still. 

Doctor Who calls it “A big ball of wibbly wobbly, timey wimey stuff,” as if that makes any sense at all. Guess it’s a Time Lord thing.

What I find funny, or rather amusing, about time is how very predictable it is and yet how often we are caught off guard by its passing.

A younger version of me used to view time as an enemy. Sometimes he, I mean I, still do, ahem, does. Man this time thing can get confusing fast.

But time is not the enemy, it’s a resource. An extremely valuable one at that. Since time travel does not, to my knowledge, exist (ok, so perhaps it does, but we’re all traveling forward at basically the same rate), we can’t get back the time which has passed. Our time is limited and passing. This is both a problem and a challenge.

Come to think of it, this very well may be my first major misunderstanding: thinking time somehow belongs to me. I act as if I’m owed a certain amount of time just like a paycheck for services rendered.

But no child, woman, or man owns time. Except maybe Gandalf, who claims a wizard is never early or late but arrives precisely when he means to. Sounds to me like someone’s playing fast and lose with the space-time continuum.

Since I’m neither a Time Lord nor Gandalf, all I can do is be thankful for the time I’m allowed. 

The philosopher Heraclitus saw time as a river, which always changes. He made the observation that you could never step in the same river twice. Clearly he ripped that straight off of Disney’s Pocahontas. 

In his own words:

“Everything changes and nothing stands still.”
“You could not step twice into the same river.”

As I see it, time is something we must aim to use wisely and well, before it slips away. The river flows on whether or not you dip your feet in it. Sometimes it carries you away.

We can become so anxious about time that we become obsessed with it, making frantic attempts to stem its flow. This is where FOMO, or fear of missing out, comes from. We feel the need to keep up with everything all the time. But instead of using it with the powerful and direct force of a firehose it’s more like a bucket we’re sloshing about, all the while just dampening the ground a bit.

I’ll admit, I can become so concerned with all the things I might possibly miss out on that I don’t really commit fully to anything. No bueno.

I’ve found the better and more helpful attitude is, now or never.

If I can’t commit to a thing now or at least dedicate a specific time to it, then the thing may very well never ever get done. Yes, it sounds a touch dramatic, but think of all the stuff you’ve truly intended to do “someday” but never even started. There is no such thing as someday.

As creatives, we must be people of the moment, employing and enjoying the time we’re living, right now, in the immediate present. Because, whether we use it or not, the time will vanish like water on a hot desert road.

Hey, who’s thirsty?


“Time is a game played beautifully by children.”
~ Heraclitus

hustle and bustles

There is some advice I hear a lot from creative professionals and other entrepreneurs: 


I will admit, it’s important to hustle, or, as many of them say, to have hustle. 

Many a creative has been known to drag their feet from time to time. This might be due to a insecurity, anxiety, distraction, or just plain old laziness. Whatever the reason, it’s easy to avoid the creative things we know we ought to do.

On the flip side, when we hustle, we keep the magic of momentum moving in our favor. We get things done and it feels good so we get more things done. In that case, we’ve got to keep the hustlin’ and bustlin’ cranked to the max.

But could there be a drawback to this frantic break-neck pace we adopt? Shouldn’t we also slow down, relax and take in the moment or something?

I remember seeing an interview from a writing business course where the guy being interviewed, who was skyping in on his cell phone, was also doing a workout, gathering things around his hotel, scheduling a meeting, hailing a cab and then riding off to his other meeting.

Some may say he was a living example of what it means to hustle—he was certainly a proponent of it based on his advice during the interview. And sure, he did give some good advice in his hurried talk, but I also found the whole thing stressful. I know it’s something I would never do.

If someone personally invited me to an interview for their business course, I would schedule the time to talk with them as a person ought to: one on one, with some measure of respect for the other party and for the potential listeners. I don’t care how “big” I get, if I don’t have the time for that, then I just wouldn’t do the interview.

The hustle mindset can be helpful at times: it keeps us productive. When you’re constantly on the move, you don’t have time to stop and worry about your shortcomings or feel sorry for yourself. You’ve got things to do, after all. There’s no stopping you now.

But here’s the drawback: when all we do is hustle, it’s very easy to leave other people behind. 

Often I find my pursuit of a creative writing career is at odds with my role as a husband and father. It is almost impossible to do both at the same time and if I attempt that, my performance for each of them suffers. 

I’ve learned (and am learning) each requires their own appropriate time and each deserves my full attention. 

For me, family always comes first. I have to be ready to stop whatever I’m doing and give my wife or children the care and attention they deserve from me. This extends to the other people in my life as well.

Creativity, after all, is for others to enjoy. If we are too busy following our creative pursuits, we can trample over the very people who might appreciate our creativity or help us along the way.

Notice hustle and hostile are almost the same word? Maybe there's a reason for that. Our speedy approach to life can eventually lead to other's hurt.

So yes, you should hustle when the time is right, but make sure you take time to pump the breaks now and then and share some quality time with the people in your path. Often that little chat with a friend, or word of encouragement will be all the motivation I need to get back on track and hustle some more.

Alright, I admit it, this post has absolutely nothing to do with the female dress-wear known as bustles. So sorry to disappoint you all. In case you were wondering, it also lacks anything about the Belgium city of Brussels or the sprouts they are so famous for. Well, what can I say? It’s probably not easy to hustle while wearing a bustle in Brussels, but maybe you should try it and let me know how it goes.


This week, I’d like to share an excerpt from my upcoming book, Idea to Done:


As the story goes, back in the day an old man sat next to a friend at a railway station, looking at a steam engine for the first time. He peered far down the tracks at the many box cars in tow and shook his head. Steam began to shoot up in the air, and the old man muttered to his friend, “They’ll never get it started.” 

But the whistle blew and the powerful engine started to slowly turn its wheels and pull the heavy load behind it. Before long, the train was gone; all that remained was a lingering cloud of smoke. 

“Well?” his friend asked, nudging the old man. 

The man shrugged. “They’ll never get it stopped.”


The beginning of a project is one of the toughest moments because you have little progress to back you up and a lot of work ahead of you—your momentum is at an all-time low. However, the beginning is also when you have a lot of excitement and expectation to push you onward. Think of this as your steam, slowly turning those wheels to get you chugging down the tracks.

As a project continues, momentum builds and tasks become easier. Yes, the initial excitement dwindles with the passage of time and in the presence of challenges and setbacks, but you soon will have momentum pushing you on. Excitement comes and goes, but without momentum, you’re dead in the water, cold on the tracks, a mound in the mud, as mobile as a mountain.

Momentum is motion, and motion leads to progress. No momentum, no progress. What I’m saying in so many words is momentum is a critical element for the completion of any project. The problem is, there are many things we can do to inhibit our momentum or even lose it. The fastest train will eventually stop if the engine ceases to pull it along. 

Here’s why: momentum requires maintenance.

It takes work to gain, but it also must be maintained. So what are some things you can do to build and keep your magnificent momentum?


  • Prioritize your workflow from easy to difficult. When it comes to order of operation, start with the simplest, easiest thing and work your way toward the more difficult and complex. If you begin with all the hardest parts, you can quickly get overwhelmed and lose the drive to continue. As you finish smaller tasks, the larger ones begin to look more feasible. 
  • Turn a task into a process whenever possible. If you find yourself repeating the same steps over and over, it’s time to make it a process. Can it be automated within a program or application? Can someone else help you with it so you can spend your time on the parts only you can do? Can you make it part of your regular routine, so you get it done quickly and save your time and energy for more demanding tasks?
  • Practice, practice, practice. Momentum comes from repetition. The more you try something, the better you will become and the more realistic your expectations will be about your next attempt. Make sure to track the results of your practice. Whether you’re learning how to bake a triple-layer wedding cake, prepping your dog for a show, or writing code for a mobile game, even a few repeated attempts can lead to great improvement—recognizing this only motivates you to continue your efforts.
  • Don’t stop. Every time you quit, it’s harder to go back. Whenever you set a project aside, you end up having to retrace your steps in order to get back to where you were. To prevent this, work on or think about your project a little every day, even if it’s only for a few minutes, it will go a long way toward maintaining your momentum.


The magic of momentum can turn a ton of motionless steel into a speeding locomotive. Every time you check another task off your list, every time you take one more step toward the finish, you’ll have more momentum for the next push and the following one. 

Yes, momentum takes effort to gain, but it pays off big-time in the long run. Without it, you’ll feel more like a runner going against the wind with a parachute behind you—not the best way to go, unless you’re really into resistance training.

With momentum on your side, there’s just no stopping you. So get those big wheels of momentum a-turnin’ and keep your creative fuel a-burnin’.


Creatively yours,

A.P. Lambert


Hey Creatives, do you find momentum hard to build, or do you find yourself coasting once you have it? Let us know in the comments below.


tiny desk

A little recommendation this week, emphasis on little.

I’d like to direct you to NPR’s Tiny Desk Concert. You can see their YouTube playlist right here.

This is something I only found out about recently and have really got a lot of enjoyment from. They bring a band or artist into their studio and have them play three songs. It’s a small space behind a desk while a bunch of NPR workers crowd around to watch, and, in some cases join in.

The whole thing is low-fi and intimate, which brings a special appeal you don’t find in a normal recording studio or stage concert. My favorite part about it is getting to see a side of the artists you don’t normally witness, something very personal and real. 

I’ve discovered many new artists by watching these as well as enjoyed some great recordings from artists I already loved. There are even some breakout moments I’d go so far as to call magical, such as when Natalie Merchant gets the entire crew to sing an old hymn a cappella with her.

Amazingly, there are even some good comments (which I find remarkable for YouTube), such as these for Andrew Bird’s performance: 

“He always looks like a road-weary salesman who just came in from the rain.”

It’s surprisingly accurate and a bit whimsical. Oh, and there’s this:

“He whistles better than Edward Snowden”

Ha, what can I say, it’s true!

Anyhow, check out Tiny Desk, if you like music at all—you won’t be sorry you did.

the grind

Gamers understand grinding as much as anyone (and no, I’m not talking about dirty Jr. High dance moves here). In a game, grinding means performing a repetitive, monotonous action over a long period of time in order to acquire something of perceived value.

Grinding has been in games for a while now and it seems to have only increased over the years. Many online RPGs are built off this concept: maybe you have to fight a bunch of low-ranked enemies just to level up and then fight a bunch of slightly harder enemies. Perhaps you've got to slowly, painstakingly collect gold or other materials so you can eventually obtain some special item which helps you be better at collecting gold and such. Or, as with many mobile games, you simply log in every half hour so you can repeatedly tap a button, which will unlock new buttons for you to tap repeatedly. That sort of thing.

But you know what? Grinding is not fun. Ever.

So why do we do it? Games, after all, are supposed to be for our enjoyment, right? From a game designer standpoint, it’s a cheap way to keep people playing your game longer. From the player’s standpoint, they believe whatever reward they get is worth the effort. But, from my perspective, it hardly is. Most of the time all you’re doing is grinding in order to do more grinding.

Sometimes life can feel this way. After all, we call work the daily grind (especially if you’re in a coffee shop). For some folks, they get up, go to work, and come home, with little change in their daily routine. Often the work itself is quite repetitive. I’m not dogging on a consistent and reliable job, but when the majority of your life is spent in repetitive monotony, it may be time to rethink where you’re heading.

Creativity, on the other hand, is all about embracing change; it’s like diving headlong into a big rushing river and not knowing where you’ll be swept away. It’s scary, challenging and fun—nothing like the grind. 

But even creatives can fall into a grind. And you know what, sometimes it’s ok, for a time. Even if you enjoy the outcome, some parts of being creative just aren’t very fun. Sometimes you have to stick that nose to the grindstone (sure sounds painful) and get a hard job done. Just make sure you have an exit plan, a reason for the grind that makes the trouble worth the effort. 

Once the grind is over, it should allow you to do something fun and exciting once more. Even better, find a way to avoid the grind altogether: develop a process so the further along you are on your creative journey, the less grinding is necessary. If your life seems like nothing but a grind, throw in an element of the unexpected, do something new and different, even if it's small and simple. 

Whatever you do, avoid an endless grind-cycle at all costs. Because if all you do is grind, eventually you’ll be ground away to nothing. That would be a stone-cold shame.


Creatively yours,

A. P. Lambert


Hey Creatives, has creativity ever felt like a grind to you, what have you done to change it up? Let us know in the comments below.


When I was a young lad I wanted to be famous. Heck, I pretty much assumed I would be. It only made sense, after all: it’s what everything seemed to be telling me I should want. And why shouldn’t I be? I’m just an amazing person after all and everyone loves me. Riiiight.

But I don’t want it no more. It works out well, since I am decidedly not famous by any stretch of the imagination. 

The more I think upon it, the less I want fame. After all, I like to go out in public and not get hounded by people I’ve never met before. I like not having my private life invaded by the media. Why, it’s safe to say I enjoy the luxuries of non-fame more every day.

However, as a writer, I do want to be well-read and well-received. I’d like my work to be known by as many people as possible, even if they never know who I am personally. I think it’s an achievable goal, to be well-read but only known by a few. 

While this doesn’t work for every artist, there are many creatives out there who are highly successful but only familiar to those with a particular knowledge of their industry, such as fashion designers, architects, chefs, and game designers. 

In my own, inexperienced opinion, I think those who are both successful in their artistic career and famous bear a heavier burden than the rest. In truth, I do not envy them.

Personally, I don’t get starstruck (not even thunderstruck), or at least haven’t yet. Sure, there are people I’d love to meet, people I admire for their opinions, character or work. Honestly, I will treat someone a little different if I know they are known by many, but I think that’s more out of a respect for their position in society than me fawning over them.


As someone who works in the entertainment industry and in LA, it’s no surprise I’ve met a few folks of notoriety. Come to think of it, I’ve had some very unusual experiences:

I made Bill Murray leave an In N Out. Alright, so it wasn’t me in particular, he just realized our group was onto him and decided to head elsewhere with his family. Can’t say I blame him.

I’ve played freeze tag with Andy Serkis (the guy who portrayed Gollum, King Kong, and a bunch of other well known mocapped movie creatures)

Stan Lee almost stole my jacket (accidentally of course).

Kim Kardashian had to wait in line behind me as I sampled yogurt at a Pinkberry. Hmm … that’s probably the most millennial thing I’ve ever said.

I totally ignored Morgan Freeman as he stood in front of me, tapping on my desk. This is the man who played God (multiple times), for crying out loud! No, I’m not indifferent, just oblivious. Sheesh, all I had to do was look up!

Samuel L. Jackson made me work late on a Call of Duty game.

Terry Crews and I had a brief, awkward exchange as we were both heading toward the bathroom at the same time. Naturally, I let him go first and just waited outside, I mean, have you seen what a specimen of a human being he is?


So yes, I think fame can be fun, as long as it’s someone else’s!


Creatively yours,

A. P. Lambert


Hey Creatives, what are your thoughts on fame and have you had any interesting encounters with a famous person? Let us know in the comments below.



There is a beauty to simplicity, but also an inherent challenge. 

These days, simplicity is championed as a target to aim for. You can see it all over the place in ads, technology design, fashion, user interface, communication, games, even stories. It’s not hard to think of examples: Got Milk? Apple product. IKEA furniture. American Apparel clothing. Twitter. Emojis. There are the games like Dead Space or Zelda: Breath of the Wild with little to no UI on the screen.

Simple is the way to go.

You’ve probably heard the old acronym, KISS, keep it simple, stupid. Surprisingly, not invented by Gene Simmons of the band with the same name. Maybe it was his inspiration for the name … nah. 

To be honest, I’ve got a penchant for simplicity. What can I say, it’s sexy. But here’s the thing, I’m not a simple person nor do I have simple tendencies. Life is complex, our thoughts are complex and problems are often not as simple as they first seem. 

Simple, you see, isn’t easy. It means taking something complicated and reducing it down to the most important bits. It takes a real skill to take something complicated and make it simple yet still beautiful and true. I’ve been working on a few board game designs and I’ve quickly realized how easy it is to tack on rules to “fix” the game only to end up with something confusing and not nearly as fun.

Anyone can turn a cluttered, messy room into an empty one, but, if you’ve seen a few home design shows, you’re aware it takes a particular eye to know where to add just the right furnishings (and not too much) to transform an empty room into something truly appealing. A good teacher knows how to take a complex subject and make it easy for his or her students to understand.

As much as I love simplicity, it isn’t necessarily the best approach. Some ideas are simply (hey-o!) too nuanced to communicate with a single tweet. Think about MS Paint vs. Photoshop. The first is a very basic program and it can be useful for some image manipulation like cropping a picture, but to produce really amazing digital artwork with just the right colors, patterns, and style, you’re going to need a complex program with a ton of features like Photoshop.

So, is simple always better? I read a post by K. M. Weiland about fixing overly complex plots. The problem, she points out, is not the complexity, but the unnecessary complexity: when we add in those extra parts that do nothing for the story and only confuse readers.

I think the same advice can be given for any creative work. Only make it as complex as it needs to be but don’t over simplify so that you lose the most important elements.

Yes, simple can be beautiful, but I believe that beauty comes in part from the suggestion it gives toward complexity. Simple things, like the tip of an iceberg, hint at what is hidden. Empty space wants to be filled and our imaginations long to fill it. Nature abhors a vacuum (I don’t know why, they seem pretty useful to me) and a blank canvas does not satisfy.

Next time you create, consider what are the essentials and what you might do better to hint at or leave out altogether.


Creatively yours,

A.P. Lambert


Everything should be made as simple as possible, but not simpler.
~Albert Einstein


Hey Creatives, where do you draw the line between too simple and too complex? Let us know in the comments below.