Don’t Try: Charles Bukowski’s Guide to Effortless Genius

I’ve always looked at business as a creative endeavor—probably because I’m not creative in any other way. My painting skills are tragic, my singing could start a neighborhood evacuation, and my dance moves? Let’s just say they’re banned in 170 countries.

So, what’s the best way to be creative in business? Long ago, I stumbled upon Bukowski’s Don’t Try philosophy. The idea? Creativity isn’t something you squeeze out like a stressed lemon. It’s more like a cat—it comes to you when you’re least expecting it, but if you chase it, it disappears under the couch.

What’s the secret to creating great art, writing, or just surviving life? According to Charles Bukowski, it’s simple: “Don’t Try.” Yes, you heard that right. Two words, straight from the man who spent decades drinking, writing, and avoiding 9-to-5 misery.

If you’re imagining Bukowski slumped on a barstool, slurring this phrase as an excuse for laziness, think again. This wasn’t an anti-work mantra; it was an anti-force philosophy. Let’s break it down, Bukowski-style.

The “Don’t Try” Masterclass (No Effort Required)

Bukowski once explained his famous words in a letter:

“Somebody asked me: ‘What do you do? How do you write, create?’ You don’t, I told them. You don’t try. That’s very important: not to try, either for Cadillacs, creation, or immortality. You wait, and if nothing happens, you wait some more. It’s like a bug high on the wall. You wait for it to come to you. When it gets close enough, you reach out, slap it, and kill it.”

Translation: Stop chasing inspiration like a desperate Tinder match. Let it come to you. If it doesn’t? Pour yourself a drink, take a walk, or do literally anything else. Forcing creativity is like forcing small talk at a boring party—everyone can tell you’re struggling.

The Art of Letting Things Happen

Bukowski didn’t sit at his typewriter sweating over perfect sentences. He lived, he observed, and when the words came, they came in floods. His approach?

• Write when it feels right. If nothing’s coming, don’t panic. Do something interesting. That’s where ideas hide.

• Perfection is overrated. Forced writing feels about as natural as a corporate motivational speech.

• Trust the process. Your subconscious is doing more work than you realize. Give it space.

Sound too easy? Well, consider this: Bukowski went from working mind-numbing post office jobs to becoming a literary legend. He didn’t force it—he let it happen.

The “Don’t Try” Life Philosophy

Beyond writing, Bukowski applied this wisdom to life itself. His rules?

• Be yourself. No one likes a try-hard.

• Stop chasing. Love, success, happiness—they usually show up when you’re not looking.

• Live first, create second. No good story starts with “I sat at my desk and forced myself to be interesting.”

He wasn’t saying, “Don’t work hard.” He was saying, “Don’t force what isn’t real.”

But Wait—Can “Don’t Try” Go Too Far?

Absolutely. Taken to the extreme, this philosophy can turn into an excuse for inaction. Creativity still requires effort—just not the kind that feels like you’re wrestling a brick wall. The trick is knowing the difference between flowing with inspiration and avoiding the work altogether.

Bukowski wasn’t advocating for sitting around waiting forever. He wrote prolifically when the moment struck—but he also knew when to step away and let things simmer.

So, don’t force it, but don’t be lazy either. There’s a fine line between trusting the process and just procrastinating.

The Role of a Calendar: Structure Without Strangulation

Now, here’s where a little paradox sneaks in. While Bukowski preached against forcing things, a calendar can actually be your best friend. How? By giving just enough structure to allow creativity to flow naturally.

• Set gentle deadlines. Not rigid, stressful ones—just enough to keep you from spiraling into endless waiting.

• Block out creative time. If inspiration strikes at odd hours, make space for it. Mornings, nights, mid-coffee break—schedule time to be available.

• Balance effort and ease. A calendar reminds you to show up without forcing every minute into productivity.

Bukowski might scoff at a fully packed planner, but even he had routines. The trick? Use a calendar to hold space for creativity, not to strangle it.

Challenges Help You Avoid Fake Trying

Ironically, while Bukowski’s mantra warns against forcing things, challenges can be a great way to ensure you're not just pretending to try. The right kind of struggle separates real effort from fake productivity.

• Creative constraints spark genius. A deadline, a word limit, or a new medium forces fresh ideas without unnecessary force.

• Discomfort breeds authenticity. If something is too easy, it might be fluff. Challenges force you to dig deeper.

• Grit filters out pretense. Facing real obstacles reveals whether you’re genuinely pursuing something or just going through the motions.

The key? Pick the right challenges. Ones that stretch you but don’t break you. Ones that push you forward without feeling like you’re forcing a square peg into a round hole.

Get Bored Instead of Doing Non-Useful Activities

In a world where every free moment is filled with scrolling, binge-watching, or endless distractions, Bukowski’s philosophy suggests something radical: embrace boredom.

• Boredom is a creative incubator. When your mind isn’t overstimulated, it starts generating ideas naturally.

• Doing nothing is doing something. Letting your brain wander can lead to unexpected insights and solutions.

• Avoid junk activities. Mindless scrolling and forced productivity kill creativity more than boredom ever could.

Next time you feel the urge to fill every gap with distractions, just sit with it. Let the emptiness exist. You might be surprised what comes out of it.

The Bottom Line: Chill Out, But Stay Ready

If you’re struggling to create, take a cue from Bukowski. Step back. Live a little. Laugh at something stupid. And when the right moment strikes, the words—or whatever masterpiece you’re working on—will come effortlessly.

Because, as Bukowski wisely put it, real creativity doesn’t come from trying. It comes when you stop trying so damn hard—but still show up when it counts.