The Taste Gap: What to Do When Your Work Doesn't Match Your Vision

Mia: Ever notice how your taste in what's good is way ahead of your ability to create it? Today, I'm sharing what Ira Glass knows about closing gaps, why you need to brave your screaming ego, and how to keep creating when nothing you make feels good enough.

3, 2, 1. Let's go. Welcome to Transition Space, your gateway from thinking to doing. I'm Mia Torr. If you're called to create meaningful work, use this podcast as part of your starting ritual. Make your coffee and clear your desk while you listen, and we'll hang out as you ease into focused flow. While you create your space, I'll help you entertain the transition. Come on in.

Today on Transition Space, a story about the gap between what you know is good and what you're able to actually create right now.

You know that feeling when you look at what you just made and you think, oh, God, this is terrible. Not just regular terrible, but embarrassingly, hideously, what was I thinking? terrible?

That feeling isn't just normal. It's actually a sign you're on the right track.

I've listened to hundreds of episodes of this American Life. Its host, Ira Glass, is one of my podcasting heroes. His ability to craft stories that illuminate the human experience is unmatched. So when I read what he had to say about creative work, it stopped me in my tracks.

He talks about this gap, this painful space between having good taste and creating work that matches that taste. It surprised me because, well, he's so good.

I didn't even conceive of the incredible storyteller Ira Glass as someone who struggled to get good at his craft. It's a long quote, and I'm not going to say it in his voice because I can't do that. But it's become my absolute favorite quote about creativity. Are you ready? It's long. Here's what he said.

Nobody tells this to people who are beginners. I wish someone had told me, all of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple years, you make stuff, it's just not that good. It's trying to be good. It has potential, but it's not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase. They quit. Most people I know who do interesting creative work went through years of this. We know our work doesn't have this special thing that we want it to have. We all go through this and if you're just starting out or you are still in this phase, you gotta know that it's normal. And the most important thing you can do is do a lot of work. Put yourself on a deadline so that every week you finish one piece. It's only by going through a volume of work, and that you will close that gap and your work will be as good as your ambitions. And I took longer to figure out how to do this than anyone I've ever met. It's going to take a while. It's normal to take a while. You just got to fight your way through.

I watch this gap play out every day with my youngest daughter, Sabine, sitting beside her big sister Aria, who has spent years studying anatomy, practicing drawing hands, perfecting wings. Sabine looks at her own drawing, then looks at her sister's, and then she throws her pencil down in despair and says, I'm terrible at this. I'm not good at drawing.

I try to prompt her with, yet you're not good at drawing yet. Attempting to instill what Carol Dweck calls a growth mindset.

Sabine looks me dead in the eyes and declares, Mom, I don't have a growth mindset. When I point out that Aria didn't start with perfect drawings either, Sabine grudgingly admits it's true. But knowing something and feeling it are two different things.

That gap between where we are and where we want to be can feel impossibly wide. Elizabeth Gilbert, the author of Eat, Pray, Love and Big Magic, says about creative fear, you can't conquer it and you shouldn't try. Instead, you acknowledge it. You let it ride in the car with you, but it doesn't get to drive.

The same is true of that voice that says, your work isn't good enough yet. You don't silence it. You just don't let it steer.

The secret lies in your disappointment. You didn't get into whatever you're doing because you have bad taste. You got into it because you know what's good. You can spot excellence a mile away. Your taste. It's impeccable. And that's exactly why everything you create feels like it fell out of the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down the gap isn't a sign you should quit. This discerning taste, this ability to recognize what's good, it's not your enemy. It's your compass. It's pointing you toward growth.

And yes, sharing imperfect work feels like walking into a party wearing your clothes inside out. The ego screams for us to hide until we're ready, but here's the that discomfort is the price of growth. 

Every creator you admire had to brave that same vulnerable space. They just didn't quit. Every masterpiece has a thousand terrible drafts behind it. Every polished video has a hard drive full of awkward takes. Every perfect loaf of sourdough has a graveyard of hockey pucks in its past.

I will not tell you how many times I revised this episode, trying my hardest to sound a fraction as good as Ira Glass. Knowing this doesn't always make it easier, but it does help pave the path forward.

Pick the smallest possible piece of your craft, something so tiny it feels ridiculous. Then make it. Make it badly. Make it quickly. Make it before your brain can catch up and tell you all the ways it could be better. Wanna write? Write one sentence. Want to draw? Draw one line? Wanna speak? Record yourself saying good morning. That's it. That's your only job today.

Tomorrow, do it again. And again. And again. 100 messy drafts will teach you more than one perfect page.

You are building a bridge. Every board brings you nearer to the creative ideal that first lit the spark. Each step carries you closer to the work you know you're meant to create.

As Sabine might grudgingly admit while still throwing down her pencil, you can't start with perfect. You can only start with now.

Whether you're making coffee or arranging your desk right now, give yourself permission to create something imperfect. To make the ugly first pancake. To write that cringe worthy first draft. To give the stumbling first speech. Because this is the process that shapes your skill, your voice, and your next best work.

I'd love to hear about your gap. Visit authenticnetworker.com transitionspace and share what are you creating that doesn't match your vision yet?

This is Transition Space, where you clear your path from thinking to doing. I'm Mia, and together we've shaped what's possible. Now it's your turn to make it real.