Rachel: Alright, Justine. Felicia Day's book, Embrace Your Weird. What's the first thing that comes to mind? Justine: Honestly? It sounds like the title of my autobiography that I'm too anxious to actually write. Which, I suspect, is exactly the point. Rachel: (Laughs) That's perfect, and you're right, that's the entire point. Today we’re diving into Embrace Your Weird: Face Your Fears and Unleash Creativity by Felicia Day. And what's so fascinating about her is that this isn't just some guru spouting advice. This is a woman who started college at 16, double-majored in mathematics and music, and then became a trailblazing web series creator with The Guild. She's lived this journey from a world of pure analytics to one of wild creativity. Justine: So she's not just telling us to be weird, she's showing us the receipts. I like that. It gives her advice a certain weight. It’s not just theory; it’s a survival guide from someone who has been in the trenches of the internet and the entertainment industry. Rachel: Exactly. And her core idea is that to win any creative battle, you first have to understand who your hero is. She calls it defining your 'Hero-Self'. Justine: 'Hero-Self.' Okay, that sounds a little bit like something you'd find on a motivational poster. What does that actually mean in practice? Is it just about positive thinking? Rachel: It’s much deeper than that. It’s less about just thinking positive and more about becoming an archaeologist of your own life. Day argues that you have to dig into your past, your present, and your dreams to figure out what makes you uniquely you. Because, as she puts it, our weirdnesses are the most fertile places to start when we want to create. Justine: An archaeologist of your own life. I like that framing. It sounds messy and complicated, which feels much more honest than just saying "be yourself." Where do you even start digging?

Rachel: You start with your memories, especially the ones that are charged with emotion. Day shares this incredibly vivid and vulnerable story from her childhood. She was three years old, at the circus, wearing this special pink, fluffy dress she adored. She was obsessed with the elephants. Justine: Oh, I can picture this. A perfect childhood moment. Rachel: Almost. Right as the elephants are performing, she finishes her popcorn and then proceeds to vomit all over her special pink dress. In front of everyone. She remembers the feeling of intense shame, the feeling that everyone, including the elephants, was staring at her and laughing. Justine: Oh, that's a core memory of horror. That’s the kind of thing that haunts you forever. My soul just shriveled a little bit for three-year-old Felicia. Rachel: Right? But her point is that by excavating that memory, she identified a major villain in her life: the fear of embarrassment. That single emotion, born in childhood, became a huge creative "enemy" for her as an adult. It fueled her anxiety about performing, about putting her work out there, about being judged. The Hero-Self is born from understanding these old wounds. Justine: That makes so much sense. It’s not just a random feeling; it’s a monster with an origin story. And anxiety is definitely a big one. It feels so huge and vague. So once you’ve identified this enemy, how do you actually fight it? Rachel: This is where the book gets really practical and, honestly, a little weird, in the best way. She offers these tools that feel almost like playful spells. For anxiety, she says you have to externalize it. Give it a name, a persona. Then, you have a conversation with it. She literally tells her anxiety, "We are not dating. Not even hooking up. End of story!" Justine: Hold on. You talk to your anxiety? I can see why some readers might find that a bit 'out there.' Does that kind of mental trick actually work, or is it just a way to distract yourself for a minute? Rachel: I think it’s more than a trick. It’s about separation. The goal is to stop identifying with the anxiety. It’s not you; it’s a separate entity that’s trying to influence you. By giving it a persona, you take away its power. You’re no longer a victim of a feeling; you’re a hero confronting a villain. It’s a cognitive shift. Justine: Okay, I can get behind that. It’s like in a video game, you wouldn't let some random monster control your character. You’d fight it. And anxiety often works with its friends, right? Day talks about that trio of obstacles: procrastination, perfectionism, and fear of failure. They always seem to show up to the party together. Rachel: They’re the ultimate evil trio. She sees them as completely interconnected. You procrastinate because you're afraid of failing. You're afraid of failing because your perfectionism tells you that anything less than flawless is a total disaster. It’s a vicious cycle designed to keep you from ever starting, or ever finishing. Justine: I know that cycle intimately. It’s the "I'll start my project as soon as I clean the entire house, alphabetize my spice rack, and achieve enlightenment" loop. How do you break it? Rachel: Her advice is deceptively simple: focus on the process, not the result. She has this fantastic quote: "Creative work means signing up for the process, not the result." To fight perfectionism, she suggests exercises like deliberately trying to draw the worst horse you can possibly imagine. Justine: Draw the worst horse? Why? Rachel: Because it gives you permission to be crappy! It’s a human right to be bad at something and still enjoy it. When you intentionally make something terrible, you short-circuit the perfectionist part of your brain. You’re not trying to create a masterpiece; you’re just playing. And in that play, you find freedom. You prove to yourself that creating something, anything, is better than creating nothing. Justine: Wow. That’s actually a brilliant way to reframe it. You’re lowering the stakes to zero. You can’t fail at drawing the worst horse. The worse it is, the more you’ve succeeded. Rachel: Exactly. And that same logic applies to bigger projects. Break it down into tiny, non-intimidating steps. The goal isn't to "write a novel." The goal is to "write one bad sentence." Anyone can do that. You fight the big, scary enemies with small, playful, and consistent actions. Justine: Okay, so we've identified the hero by digging into our past, and we've started to fight off the internal dragons of anxiety and perfectionism. But you can't just live in a constant state of battle. That sounds exhausting. What's next?

Rachel: You are absolutely right. And Day argues that defense isn't enough. You need to build a fortress. A place of safety and strength. And the building materials for this fortress are surprisingly fun: Allies and Play. Justine: Allies and Play. That sounds much better than shame and anxiety. Let's start with allies. We all know it's good to have friends, but how does that apply specifically to the creative process? Rachel: It’s about being incredibly intentional with your support system. She tells this story about how, early in her career, she felt completely alone and helpless. She was then invited to join a support group of other women in show business. They met every week, shared their creative goals, and held each other accountable. Justine: A bit of positive peer pressure. Rachel: A huge amount! She said knowing she had to report back to the group was the kick she needed to actually sit down and write. And it was in that environment, with that support, that she wrote the web series The Guild. The very project that launched her entire career. It wouldn't have happened in isolation. Her allies weren't just cheering her on; they were a structural part of her success. Justine: That’s a powerful testament. It wasn't just a nice-to-have; it was essential. It makes the idea of finding your people feel less like a social activity and more like a critical creative strategy. But what about 'play'? That word feels like a luxury when you have deadlines and responsibilities. How is 'playing' supposed to help me finish a serious project? Rachel: This is one of the most counterintuitive and important parts of the book. Day argues that our culture has it all wrong. We think creativity comes from suffering—the tortured artist trope. She says the opposite is true. Playfulness is the root of all creation. But our modern lives are designed to eliminate play. Specifically, they're designed to eliminate boredom. Justine: Oh, I feel that. Any moment of downtime, my hand automatically reaches for my phone. The void must be filled with content. Rachel: And that's the problem! She talks about how the years she was most invested in her online persona were her least creative. She was addicted to the validation, the likes, the comments. So she took a drastic step: she would periodically unplug her internet. Just cut it off. Justine: That’s the nuclear option for a web pioneer. What happened? Rachel: At first, it was agonizing. But then, something amazing happened. Her brain, starved of the easy dopamine hits from social media, started to get bored. And in that boredom, it started to wander. It started to make new connections. She says, "Eureka! will never come from reading a Facebook status update." Inspiration needs empty space to show up. Justine: That is so true. My best ideas always come in the shower or on a long walk, places where I'm disconnected. So play isn't just about goofing off; it's about intentionally creating boredom. Rachel: It's creating space. And it's also about giving yourself permission to have fun with your inspirations. She has this great concept of using other people's work as "training wheels." There's no shame in it. She tells the story of how she created her viral music video, "Do You Want to Date My Avatar." Justine: I remember that video! It was everywhere. Rachel: It started because she was bored and made a playlist of cheesy dance songs she loved. Then she thought, "I could do this." She studied the structure of those songs, not to copy them, but to understand the formula. She played with it. The result was this massive hit, and the outfit she wore is now in the Smithsonian. All because she decided to play with a format she enjoyed, without the pressure of being totally original. Justine: That’s incredible. She took something she loved, reverse-engineered the fun, and made her own version. It wasn't about stealing; it was about learning through play.

Rachel: And that really brings the whole philosophy together. It’s this beautiful, self-reinforcing cycle. You do the hard, archaeological work of self-excavation to define your 'Hero-Self' and to understand and fight your inner enemies. But that difficult battle is sustained and fueled by the joy and support you get from your allies and from deliberately scheduling 'play.' One fuels the other. Justine: That’s a fantastic way to look at it. The fight gives the play purpose, and the play gives the fight strength. So the big takeaway isn't just a simple platitude like 'be weird.' It's more like, 'be a weirdo with a plan.' Rachel: A weirdo with a plan and a support system! It's about building a life where your unique creativity has the space and the protection it needs to thrive. Justine: I love that. And it feels actionable. Maybe the first step for anyone listening is to try one of Day's exercises. Like, right now, just for fun, try to draw the absolute worst horse you can imagine. No judgment. Just see what happens when you give yourself five minutes of pure, glorious, intentional failure. Rachel: Exactly. And maybe ask yourself a question to carry into the rest of your day: what's one creative 'enemy' you've been letting win this week? Is it anxiety? Perfectionism? And what's one small, five-minute act of 'play' you could use to fight back? Justine: A great question to end on. It puts the power right back in your hands. Rachel: This is Aibrary, signing off.