The Link Between Creativity and Dishonesty

by L.J. Sellers, author of provocative mysteries & thrillers

An article in Scientific American, based on research studies, concluded that "Encouraging people to think outside the box can result in greater cheating and crossing ethical boundaries can make people more creative in a subsequent task." This caught my eye because I think of myself as a creative person. A few days earlier, I read the post “18 Things Highly Creative People Do Differently” and checked yes on almost everything. So does that also make me inherently dishonest?

I don't think so, but since I write crime fiction, I had to scrutinize whether the theory applied to me.

Overall, I tend to be painfully honest. Law-abiding. Responsible. And sober. All the time! But when I was younger, I was bit more wild. So now, maybe adhering to the straight and narrow in my real life (while suppressing my wild side) leads me to enjoy writing from the perspective of a character who is the opposite. Namely, Agent Jamie Dallas.

I’m currently working on my second book in this series—featuring an undercover agent who infiltrates groups to gather evidence and break open crime rings—and it’s as fun as the first time. (Here’s a link to the cover and description.)

This young character (also something I’m not anymore) has to lie, cheat, steal files, seduce targets, party with her new peers to be accepted, sneak into places she isn’t supposed to, and put on performances to accomplish her goals. All of it is for the sake and safety of her country—but Dallas loves her work in a special way. Once I got inside her head and wrote her part the first time, I had so much fun, I knew she had to have her own series.

So maybe there’s a bit of Dallas buried inside me that needs to get out and play sometimes. Or maybe that’s why I write crime fiction. Because creativity is linked to deviant behavior, so that’s the only kind of story I know how to tell.

What do you think? Does our creativity lead to deviant behavior or does unethical activity lead to creativity? Or is the research on this subject inherently flawed?

It Could Be

By Peg Brantley, who was a dreamer long before she was anything else.


From a reader:

It’s funny – you got me thinking – and I remembered that I used to have an imagination and used it. I was a very fanciful child and frequently lived in my own little world. I always thought I would do something creative and wonderful with my life, and here I am at 66 and I didn’t. Don’t know what happened. Life, I suppose. 


I wrote a post here some time ago that dealt with learning to dream again, and what I want to say loud and clear is that until the nails are pounded in your box, or you're put into the fire, or you're dumped somewhere where nobody will ever find the body, you Are Not Finished. You Are Not Done.

Take each moment. Make it yours. Find what thrills you. Do not turn your back on the ideas that fall into your head.

We're here for a lot of reasons. To help a child, to love someone else, to facilitate other people in the corporate world without employing greed. Each one of us knows the roles we've already fulfilled. The contributions we've already made.

But I believe that each of us also have another gift to make our world more miraculous than it already is. To leave behind a little color and surprise. It could be a song or a painting or a poem. It could be the stories you tell your grandchild at night.

The thing is, it could be. Don't give up. I don't care if you're 26 or 66 or 106. You owe your creativity to yourself. You owe your creativity to our culture (even if "our culture" consists of one friend), and if you're a believer, you owe your creativity to the one who created you.

You can blanket this world with one more layer of awe, by taking your own life and embedding it. Because each one of us has something worthy to leave behind.

If you're already a writer, what else would you like to create? A painting? A garden? If you're a parent, is there something else you've always wanted to try? A short film? A cookbook?

So, to my beloved reader who shared your heart with me: It could be.