Rachel: What if I told you the most famous 'aha' moment in music history—Paul McCartney dreaming up the melody for 'Yesterday'—is a complete myth? The real story is far more interesting, and it reveals a secret about creativity that anyone can learn. Justine: Hold on, that story is legendary! I’ve heard it a million times. Are you saying he didn't just wake up with that perfect song fully formed in his head? That’s like telling me Santa isn’t real. Rachel: I am absolutely telling you that. And unpacking that legend is the perfect way to understand the first big idea in a fascinating book we're diving into today: The Creative Curve by Allen Gannett. Justine: The Creative Curve. Okay, sounds a little like a business buzzword. Rachel: It does, but Gannett is the perfect person to write this. He's not a poet or a painter; he's a tech entrepreneur, the founder of a major marketing analytics company. He literally built his career on finding patterns in massive amounts of data, and he applied that same thinking to creativity. The book was widely acclaimed in business and creative circles for this very reason—it treats creativity like a science to be decoded. Justine: A data guy writing about creativity. That’s an interesting angle. So he’s arguing that art isn't magic, it's… math? Rachel: In a way, yes. He argues that what we call creative genius is actually a skill. A skill that can be learned, practiced, and mastered. And it all starts by dismantling the lies we've been told.

Justine: Alright, I'm intrigued and a little skeptical. Let's go back to 'Yesterday'. Debunk this myth for me. What really happened? Rachel: Okay, so the popular story is true, but only a tiny part of it. In 1963, Paul McCartney, just 21 years old, did wake up in an attic room in London with a beautiful, complete melody in his head. He stumbled over to a piano and played it so it wouldn't disappear. That part is real. Justine: See! A lightning strike of genius! Rachel: That’s what he thought, too! In fact, he was so convinced he couldn't have written it that he spent the next month playing the melody for everyone he knew—John Lennon, their producer George Martin, other musicians, friends—asking, "Have you heard this song before? I think I stole it." Justine: A month? So he was basically running a plagiarism check on his own brain. Rachel: Exactly. No one had ever heard it. So he finally accepted it was his. But here's where the myth crumbles. He had a melody, but no words. For nearly two years, the song was a running joke within the Beatles. Do you know what the placeholder lyrics were? Justine: I have a feeling it wasn't as poetic as the final version. Rachel: Not quite. The working title was "Scrambled Eggs." The opening line was, "Scrambled eggs, oh my baby, how I love your legs." Justine: (laughing) No! You're kidding me. That's incredible. So one of the most beautiful, melancholic songs of all time started as a breakfast jingle? Rachel: It did. He worked on it constantly, on tour buses, in hotel rooms, during breaks while filming 'Help!'. It wasn't a flash of inspiration that was finished in a moment. It was a long, grueling process of refinement. It took him almost two years to finally land on the lyrics we know today. Justine: Okay, that already changes the story from a magical moment to just… hard work. But where did the melody itself come from? Did it just appear out of thin air? Rachel: This is the most fascinating part. Gannett points to the work of music experts who have analyzed the song. It turns out that 'Yesterday' shares a remarkably similar chord progression and bass line structure with another song. A song The Beatles loved and played constantly during their early days in Hamburg. Justine: Which was? Rachel: Ray Charles's version of 'Georgia on My Mind'. The Beatles were obsessed with American R&B, and they covered Ray Charles all the time. McCartney had consumed that musical pattern so deeply, had played it and heard it so many times, that his brain subconsciously remixed it in his sleep and presented it back to him as something new. Justine: Wow. So his 'aha moment' wasn't a message from the heavens. It was his brain's hard drive finally finishing a complex processing job based on years of data he'd fed it. Rachel: Precisely. Gannett calls this the "Inspiration Theory of Creativity," and he argues it's a lie. The idea of the lone genius, the sudden epiphany—it's a romantic story, but it’s not how it works. Creativity is an evolution, not a revolution. It’s built on the foundation of what came before. Justine: That's a much more democratic way of looking at it. It implies you don't have to be a 'chosen one'. You just have to do the work of consuming the right things. Rachel: And that is the first law of the creative curve. But before we get to the laws, there's another story that perfectly illustrates this idea of practice over talent. It’s about a man named Jonathan Hardesty. Justine: Okay, I'm ready. Rachel: In 2002, Hardesty was working a bureaucratic office job at a university medical center. He was miserable. He described it as feeling his soul dying. He decided he needed a new career, one that would make him happy. So he brainstormed, and despite having very little artistic experience, he decided he wanted to become a master painter. Justine: That's a huge leap. Most people would say, "Well, I can't draw, so that's out." You're either born with that talent or you're not, right? Rachel: That's the myth! Hardesty decided to test it. He started drawing every single day and posting his progress on an online art forum. At first, his work was… not great. But he kept at it. He got feedback, he practiced, and eventually, he was encouraged to join a classical art school, an atelier. Justine: What's an atelier? Rachel: It's basically an intense, old-school art workshop where you learn through rigorous, structured imitation. You don't start by expressing your inner vision. You start by copying the masters, learning the absolute fundamentals of light, shadow, and form. It's all about purposeful practice. Justine: So it's the opposite of the 'just be creative' advice. It's 'first, learn the rules like an apprentice'. Rachel: Exactly. He spent years in this program, working at a bakery to support himself, and just painted. Constantly. He wasn't waiting for inspiration; he was building the skill, brick by brick. And today, Jonathan Hardesty is a world-class master painter. His work is breathtaking. He even runs his own online atelier, teaching others the same methods. Justine: That is so inspiring. It completely reframes the idea of talent. It’s not a prerequisite; it's the outcome of dedicated, structured practice. It takes the pressure off. You don't have to be 'gifted,' you just have to be dedicated. Rachel: And that's the core of Gannett's argument. The potential for creativity isn't limited to a few geniuses. Research shows that once you're past a very average IQ threshold, around 104, more intelligence doesn't correlate with more creative potential. We all have roughly the same starting block. The difference is who is willing to put in the work.

Justine: Okay, so if creativity isn't a lightning strike, and it's a skill we can build, what's the system? You mentioned Gannett has 'laws'. What is this operating manual for creativity? Rachel: This is where Gannett introduces his central concept: The Creative Curve. It’s a simple but powerful idea. The most successful creative products—whether it's a song, a movie, a book, or a new tech product—hit a sweet spot. They are novel enough to be interesting, but familiar enough to be understood and accepted. Justine: Ah, so it's that tension between the new and the known. Too familiar, and it's boring or cliché. Too new, and it's weird and alienating. Rachel: You've got it. The creative curve is that perfect point of optimal tension. And Gannett outlines four laws that successful creators use, consciously or not, to find that sweet spot. They are: Consumption, Imitation, Creative Communities, and Iteration. Justine: Let's break those down. What does 'Consumption' actually look like in practice? Is it just about watching a lot of Netflix or reading a lot of books? Rachel: It's more intentional than that. Gannett proposes what he calls the '20 percent principle'. He argues that to develop an intuitive sense for the creative curve in any field, you should spend about 20 percent of your waking hours consuming content in that field. For McCartney, it was listening to and playing American R&B. For a filmmaker, it's watching and deconstructing films. For an entrepreneur, it's studying other businesses. Justine: So it's about building that mental library of what's been done, what works, and what's become cliché. You're essentially training your brain to recognize patterns. Rachel: Exactly. The second law, Imitation, flows directly from that. This is what Jonathan Hardesty did at the atelier. It’s not about plagiarism; it’s about deconstructing the work of masters to understand the underlying structure. Benjamin Franklin famously taught himself to write by taking articles from his favorite magazine, outlining their structure, and then trying to rewrite the article from his outline. He was imitating the form, not just the words. Justine: That makes so much sense. You learn the rules of the game before you try to invent a new one. What about the third law, Creative Communities? We have this image of the solitary artist locked away in their studio. Rachel: Another myth Gannett is keen to bust. He argues that creativity is a team sport. You need a community. He breaks it down into four key roles you need in your life: a Master Teacher to guide you, a Conflicting Collaborator to challenge you, a Modern Muse to inspire you, and a Prominent Promoter to champion your work. Justine: I love that framework. A conflicting collaborator is such a great idea. Someone who doesn't just agree with you, but pushes back and makes the final product stronger. Like John Lennon and Paul McCartney. Rachel: A perfect example. Their friction created magic. And finally, the fourth law is Iteration. This is the "scrambled eggs" phase. It’s the process of conceptualizing an idea, reducing it to its core, curating it through feedback, and then getting it out into the world to see how people react. It’s a loop. You create, you get feedback, you refine, you create again. Justine: This is all incredibly practical. It feels less like a mystical quest and more like a project plan. It reminds me of the story of J.K. Rowling. We have this image of her scribbling the idea for Harry Potter on a napkin on a delayed train. Rachel: Right, another classic 'inspiration' story. But the book points out that she is a perfect example of someone who followed all four laws. She was a voracious reader her whole life—that's Consumption. She used classic storytelling structures and mythological archetypes—that's Imitation. She had a community of her sister, her agent, and her editor who believed in her when no one else did. And she spent five years meticulously planning the entire seven-book series and went through countless drafts—that's Iteration. Justine: The train ride was just the spark. The fire was built with years of systematic, hard work. It's so much more empowering to think of it that way.

Rachel: And that's the whole point. When you pull back the curtain, you see that these creative giants aren't magicians. They are masters of a process. They unlearned the myth that creativity is something that just happens to you, and instead learned the system for making it happen through you. Justine: It’s a much more hopeful way to look at it. It means that creative potential isn't a lottery ticket you're born with. It's a muscle that anyone can build if they're willing to do the reps. It’s not about waiting for the muse to show up; it’s about building a workshop so inviting that the muse wants to visit, and visit often. Rachel: That’s a beautiful way to put it. The book really challenges you to look at your own life and the stories you tell yourself about your own abilities. It makes you ask a powerful question. Justine: What's that? Rachel: What's one area in your life where you've told yourself, 'I'm just not creative enough for that'? Whether it's painting, writing, starting a business, or even just solving a problem at work. Justine: And what's one small step you could take this week, using one of these laws, to start proving yourself wrong? Maybe it's just dedicating an hour to consuming something in that field, or trying to imitate a small piece of work you admire. Rachel: Exactly. It’s about taking the first step on that curve. Justine: We'd love to hear your thoughts. Find us on our socials and tell us what you're going to create. Let's build a community of 'creative curve' masters together. Rachel: This is Aibrary, signing off.