Chapter 1: The Sandbox Concept

The renowned author Frank Norris famously noted, “I don’t like to write, but I enjoy having written.” This sentiment resonates with many writers, but how can we transition from the act of writing to the satisfaction of having completed a piece? One simple answer emerges: the sandbox.

Whenever I find myself creatively stalled, I open a new Word document, boldly titled SANDBOX. On occasion, I create several sandboxes, dedicating each to a different chapter or scene. This becomes my playground, where my fingers dance across the keyboard, liberated from the weight of expectations.

Do these sandbox sessions yield material fit for publication? Rarely. More often, they result in nonsense, and that’s perfectly fine. The goal of the sandbox isn’t to craft flawless prose but to get those creative juices flowing, to break free from the constraints imposed by my internal critic. This critic can be quite a tyrant, and the first rule of the sandbox is: no critics allowed. The second rule? No adults permitted. Here, I can engage in creative play without a shred of self-doubt or embarrassment.

I once encountered a practice by novelist Donna Tartt, who writes at the top of each draft page the phrase THIS DOESN’T COUNT. This captures the essence of the sandbox. When nothing is at stake, you’re free to write whatever comes to mind without fear of judgment. If it doesn’t count, you can embrace failure, and in doing so, unlock your creative potential.

Sandboxes are ephemeral spaces, not meant for public consumption. They serve as private realms where self-criticism takes a backseat.

Geniuses intuitively grasp the sandbox's significance. The 11th-century Chinese polymath Su Tungpo described his approach to painting as “playing with ink,” and according to his biographer, he treated his poet’s pen “almost like a toy.” Similarly, when Alexander Fleming, the discoverer of penicillin, was asked about his work, he simply stated, “I play with microbes.”

Another illustrious playful scientist, physicist Richard Feynman, remarked that he found the most joy in his “work” when he was just having fun. “I used to do whatever I felt like doing — it didn’t need to be crucial for nuclear physics; it just had to be interesting and enjoyable for me to explore.”

You don’t need to be a genius to harness the power of play. A study conducted by British researchers Patrick Bateson and Daniel Nettle involved around 1,500 participants who rated their playfulness on a scale from one to seven. They were then tasked with brainstorming various uses for a paperclip and a jar of jam. Those who identified as playful were “far more likely” to generate numerous creative uses for the items.

However, that doesn’t imply all their ideas were brilliant. Much of what we produce in the sandbox is best left there. Geniuses often experience more failures than their less creative counterparts. For instance, Thomas Edison held 1,093 patents, many for inventions of little value. Picasso created around twenty thousand artworks, with a significant number not considered masterpieces.

In literature, W. H. Auden noted that “a major poet will write more bad poems throughout their life than a minor poet.” He might have added that the major poet likely spends more time playing in the sandbox than their lesser counterparts.

Sandboxes are transient spaces, not intended for others to see. They are personal domains where judgment is suspended. In these spaces, we create solely for the sake of creation. Children inherently understand this concept, while adults often need a reminder that, regardless of our accomplishments, we never truly outgrow the need for a sandbox.

Explore the intersection of AI, creativity, and joy in this engaging workshop led by Jon Leland.

Chapter 2: The Importance of Playfulness

Discover the hierarchy of creativity and how playful approaches can enhance innovative thinking in this insightful video.