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Big Magic for Songwriters: What Elizabeth Gilbert Teaches Us About Creative Courage

  • Writer: Tara Henton
    Tara Henton
  • Jul 27
  • 4 min read
A copy of Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear by Elizabeth Gilbert resting on a bed of bright pink summer flowers.
Photo Credit: Tara Henton

This month’s Book Circle pick was Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert, and I can say, without reservation, that I was completely captivated from cover to cover. It’s written in such a warm, honest voice—full of lived wisdom that feels both reassuring and inspiring.


Although Gilbert writes from the perspective of an author, the book is really for anyone who seeks to live a creative life. And as a songwriter, I found so many of her insights deeply resonant. Gilbert’s Big Magic offers a perspective that feels especially relevant now, in the age of AI. Here’s what stuck with me most.



Fear will always come along for the ride. Just don’t let it drive.


One of Gilbert’s central ideas is that fear and creativity are forever linked. If you’re doing something new, meaningful, or uncertain, fear is going to pipe up. Every time. The trick isn’t to get rid of it—it’s to learn how to coexist with it. Gilbert captures it perfectly when she writes:

“My fear became boring to me... I noticed that [it] never changed... My fear was a song with only one note—only one word actually—and that word was ‘STOP!’”

The truth is that if we wait until we’re not afraid, we’ll never write a song. So let fear come along—but remind it that it doesn’t get a vote on what you write, how you write, or whether you share the song with someone. That’s your call.



Ideas have lives of their own—our job is to show up and say yes.


Gilbert describes ideas as living things, sort of floating in the ether, seeking human partners to help bring them into the world. If you say no, or hesitate too long, the idea might go looking for someone else.

“Ideas are driven by a single impulse: to be made manifest. And the only way an idea can be made manifest in our world is through collaboration with a human partner.”

It’s a beautifully strange concept—but I’ve felt it. Haven’t you? That sense that something landed in your lap fully formed, or that a song seemed to write you, not the other way around?


It’s a reminder to honour the nudge. When inspiration strikes—even if you’re tired or busy or doubting yourself—pay attention. Pick up the guitar. Hum the line into a voice memo. Write it down in your ideas book. Say yes, and see where it leads.



You don’t need anyone’s permission to write songs.


This one hit me square in the chest. So many of us wait for a stamp of approval—some external validation that says, “Yes, you’re a real songwriter now.”


But Gilbert reminds us that no one can give you that. Your desire to create is permission enough.

“You do not need a permission slip from the principal’s office to live a creative life.”

You don’t have to be a professional. You don’t need a publishing deal. You don’t even have to share what you write—though you absolutely can (and should, when you’re ready). Because finishing something and letting it out into the world frees you up to move onto the next thing. Let it live.


If songwriting brings you joy, or clarity, or catharsis—if it helps you make sense of the world or feel more fully you—then it’s worthwhile. Full stop.



Don’t ask your creativity to pay the bills


Gilbert challenges the idea that our creativity must justify itself through commercial success. In fact, she actively warns against placing the pressure of your livelihood on your art. Not because it can’t happen—but because expecting your creativity to feed you can starve it of joy.

“I held on to those other sources of income for so long because I never wanted to burden my writing with the responsibility of paying for my life.”

That doesn’t mean we can’t make money from our music. But it does mean being mindful not to confuse success with worth. When we demand our songs be a product, a portfolio piece, or a ticket to recognition, we risk losing sight of the very reason we began creating in the first place.


This resonated deeply for me. I know what it feels like to pin all your hopes on one song, one project, one pitch. But Big Magic reminded me that we’re allowed to make art just because it moves us. Because it brings us joy. Because we’re curious about where it might lead.


Keep going. Keep writing. Keep making. Let the creative process be the reward—and if success comes your way, what a wonderful bonus.



Finished is Better Than Perfect—Especially in the Age of AI


Gilbert talks about the power of finishing—of letting the work be what it is and releasing it, imperfect but complete.

“Done is better than good.”
“Perfection is just fear in fancy shoes and a mink coat.”

That message alone is worth holding onto, but it lands with extra weight in today’s creative landscape. With AI tools capable of generating clean, polished lyrics in seconds, we’re entering a world where perfection can be automated. But what AI can’t mimic is the vulnerability, decision-making, and emotional messiness of real human creativity.


Michael Gilbride of Mad Records puts it well in his Substack essay Why AI Will Make Music More Human. As generative tools flood the market with formulaic output, he argues, what listeners will crave more than ever is music that feels lived in—songs shaped by risk, depth, and perspective.


Letting go of perfection doesn’t mean settling. It means making something you’re proud of, even if it isn’t flawless.


Celebrate that it exists.


Because done is brave. Done keeps you writing. And done creates the space for you to grow—while also honouring what AI can’t replicate: the human choices and perspective behind the song.


That’s creative integrity without paralysis.


That’s the real magic.



Have you read Big Magic?


I’d love to know what parts resonated with you—or if there’s another book that’s helped you reconnect with your creative self.


Pop a comment below or join the conversation in our Book Circle.


And if you haven’t read it yet… maybe this is your nudge to pick up a copy.📕✨




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