For Inside the Box (out on Tuesday!), I spent time reporting about Pixar, including with cofounder Ed Catmull. (He is utterly fascinating. We watched a film together, and it took us seven hours to get through the first hour of the film because we paused to talk so frequently.)
Pixar may be viewed as a place of unfettered imagination, but it is in fact a place of many fetters that channel creative ideas into creative achievements. Limits and guardrails abound. I came to think of Pixar constraints as the metaphorical equivalent of someone setting up bumpers in a bowling lane to keep the balls trundling in the right direction, even as they’re allowed to zigzag along the way.
Ed told me about one guideline that I applied to myself while writing Inside the Box. He called it the “Three Pitches Rule.” In short, directors were asked to develop three movie ideas, rather than one. If they developed only one, they often got fixated on it and could get stuck, even if it wasn’t working well. We all often fixate on our first idea, even though it isn’t usually our best. (The “creative cliff illusion” is named for the idea that we think our best creative ideas come first, and we’re usually wrong.)
This is certainly true in writing. In my experience, one of the most difficult things to do throw out the opening of a first draft. You have to get something down in order to start, but once it’s down, you’re attached to it. Not because it’s the best place to start, but because it came easily to mind. I’ve noticed this tendency in myself and in younger writers I’ve helped. Nobody likes to be told: “You started in the wrong place.” The resistance to scrapping the beginning is such that most young writers who have asked my advice on a piece simply don’t take it. And I understand. I’m far from perfect at this.
But I’m always trying to improve at my craft, so I decided to apply the Three Pitches Rule to Inside the Box. For every chapter, I wrote the opening that came to mind. And then I figuratively crossed it out and forced myself to write two different openings. Nine of the twelve chapters in the finished book open with either a second or third attempt.
It was kind of painful, but I think it was a desirable difficulty. I was often starting with what popped easily to mind, not because it was right but because it was convenient. My version of the Three Pitches Rule forced me to think harder, and to experiment. That’s what useful constraints often do—force you to think harder, and launch into productive experimentation.
Next time you’re generating ideas or starting a piece of writing, try the Three Pitches Rule. You can always go back to the first one. But I suspect you’ll find, as I did, that being forced to think hard prompts some of your best work.
If you’d like to receive the Inside the Box preorder bonus of Q&As with leaders in their fields talking about constraints, there are only a few days left. You can fill out the form here. If you haven’t ordered the book, there are links to sellers there. And if you do pick up the book and like it, friendly reviews at your seller of choice are greatly appreciated and help support my work.
On that note, I want to thank you, reader of this newsletter. As I’ve often said, the wonderful and unexpected surprise of Range Widely has been the thoughtful comments, stories, and even arguments from readers. You restored my faith in the potential of comments sections! Thank you.
Lastly, I recently made a video about one of the stories in Inside the Box. You can check it out here.
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Until next time…
David




I’m going to use the “three pitches” constraint today when I force myself to sit down and write my Substack!
So looking forward to reading the book. It sounds like it's brimming with wonderful ideas to promote our writing and creativity. Can't wait to read it!!