The Art of Creative Theft
Austin Kleon rephrased it best: “Steal like an artist.” His book codified how I think about originality, not as invention from thin air, but as creative remixing. Sounds sketchy, right? But this isn’t about cut-and-paste ganking and plagiarism. It’s about what every great creator has always done: absorb your influences so thoroughly that they become raw material for something new.
That old line, “Good artists copy, great artists steal,” isn’t about theft. It’s about immersion. Study the things that move you, understand how they work, and reshape them via vision that’s unique.
Everything Everywhere All At Once pulls from Wong Kar-wai, The Matrix, anime, kung fu flicks, and multiverse sci-fi. What makes it so awesome isn’t the ingredients, it’s the voice behind the remix. As with Star Wars, Lucas mashed up Kurosawa, Flash Gordon, and Campbell’s hero’s journey into something that felt totally fresh in 1977.
To steal smart and remix hard, you’re gonna need a creative heist checklist:
Pick Your Crew of 15: Make a list of creators who make you say, “Damn, I wish I thought of that.” Don’t limit yourself to your own medium. Pull from rad filmmakers, poets, game designers, animators, YouTubers, anyone who sparks the fan-kid in you.
Study the Craft, Not the Content: What’s their secret sauce? Tarantino’s non-linear tension. Wes Anderson’s obsessive symmetry. The way specific YouTubers and TikTok creators fake magic with transitions. Look closer. What’s the trick under the trick?
Steal Techniques, Not Ideas: Borrow structure, pacing, mood, but not the story. Learn how your favorites build tension, create rhythm, or land an out-of-nowhere twist. Then rewire those techniques into your own material.
Remix the Ingredients: Take a narrative device from a novelist, pair it with the aesthetic of an anime, and pace it like your favorite podcast. That’s where originality lives, in your mashup.
Bring Yourself: Even the best remix doesn’t matter if you aren’t in it. Your manic obsessions, emotional point of view, and just plain weirditude. Those are your secret weapons.
Ship It: Don’t hide in the basement. Share your work. Get feedback. Iterate. The best creators aren’t afraid to converse with the audience, with the form, with themselves.
If you only pull from one or two sources, you’ll sound like a hacky knockoff. Steal from fifteen, and filter it through your strange brain. It’ll be fresh, even if every piece is derivative.
I’ve employed this approach on every project I’ve played with, from Heroes to American Gods to VALORANT. Worlds built from dozens of trite and tropey legacy inputs, but the remix, the synthesis, the throughline is where originality blooms, forging jaded audiences into true fans.
In today’s transmedia playground, the creative possibilities are mega. Rip narrative beats from novels, mood from anime, UI design from games, interaction models from TikTok, and pacing from true crime podcasts. Media is fluid. So whip-up your signature cocktail and start pouring drinks.
Now, list your favorite 15. Break them down to bite-sized bits. Remix. Add flavor. And serve up that sweet meal.
