Protecting Your Creative Fire: 5 Lessons from Author Ali Gordon

This week on the Broadway Vocal Coach Podcast, we had the joy of sitting down with our dear friend and fellow University of Michigan alum, Ali Gordon. Ali has worn many hats—musical theatre performer, comedian, teacher, writer—and now she’s celebrating the release of her debut novel, We Have Reached the End of Our Show.

Our conversation spanned everything from improv class disasters to the publishing world’s endless waiting game, but through it all, Ali shared powerful reminders that every artist needs to hear. Here are some of our favorite takeaways from the episode.

1. Take Bigger Risks (and Let Most of Them Be Bad)

Ali admitted she used to think she was taking risks in auditions—“like, this time I’m gonna focus on the pronouns.” But it wasn’t until she started improv that she realized what risk-taking really looked like.

“I did not know what I was capable of until I started being like, I’m gonna do a hundred scenes this week. Most of them will be bad. I needed that so, so badly.”

As performers, it’s easy to confuse precision for risk. We think that making tiny adjustments to a line reading or note choice counts as pushing the envelope. But real risk means giving yourself permission to fail loudly, fail often, and fail in public. In Ali’s case, improv demanded she try characters, scenarios, and choices that were way outside her comfort zone—and most of them didn’t work.

The payoff? A stronger creative muscle and a fearlessness that carried into auditions and writing. As Ali put it, she didn’t know her full capacity until she stopped trying to be “right” and started being willing to be “bad.” For us as artists, the takeaway is simple: stop waiting to get it perfect. Take more swings. If you’re not failing regularly, you’re probably not stretching yourself enough.

2. Protect Your Early Drafts

When Ali was writing her novel, she didn’t share her pages with anyone. Instead, she treated the book like her “private little retreat.”

“When I was working on this at the time, I wasn’t like, ‘this is great, I wrote 10 pages today, let me tell you the plot.’ I didn’t say anything to anybody. This was my little clubhouse.”

That image of a “clubhouse” is powerful. In a world where artists are pressured to share everything in progress—posting reels, TikToks, or snippets from rehearsals—it’s tempting to invite outside voices too early. But as Ali pointed out, even the most well-meaning comments can worm their way into your head and derail your vision.

By protecting her work until it was ready, Ali ensured the book stayed true to her voice. Performers can do the same. Whether you’re preparing an audition song, building a role, or writing your own material, not everything has to be shared immediately. Give your work time to grow roots before exposing it to the winds of feedback. The practical lesson? Choose carefully when and with whom you share your vulnerable drafts. Sometimes the best way to honor your artistry is to let it be yours alone—for a little while.

3. Waiting is Part of the Process

If you’ve ever felt frustrated by how long auditions, callbacks, or contracts take, you’ll relate to Ali’s description of publishing:

“If people want to read your full manuscript, they’ll comfortably ask for five or six months to read it… and sometimes you get a really unsatisfactory answer. It’s a lot of waiting.”

In our industry, waiting is everywhere. Waiting to hear back from a casting office. Waiting to see if the funding comes through for a new show. Waiting for your agent to email. And like Ali pointed out, the waiting isn’t just about time—it’s about the emotional toll of living in limbo.

But here’s the reframe: waiting doesn’t mean nothing is happening. It’s often when we learn patience, resilience, and trust in our own process. Ali realized that rejection in publishing hit her in new, unexpected ways—even though she thought she was “immune” after years of auditioning. The truth is, each field has its own brand of vulnerability. For us as performers, the practical takeaway is this: don’t let waiting convince you that you’re stagnant. Use the in-between to deepen your skills, expand your creative outlets, and remind yourself that progress often looks invisible until it arrives all at once.

4. Walking and Thinking Counts as Work

We loved Ali’s reflection on how part of her process was simply walking through New York and letting her mind wander:

“Your brain will answer a lot of questions if you give it a little bit of space and quiet.”

In other words, thinking counts. Dreaming counts. Ruminating counts. But in today’s world of constant notifications and scrolling, we’ve nearly forgotten how to give ourselves that kind of margin. Cynthia chimed in during the episode with an important reminder:

“Because we’re so on our phones or devices all the time, we’ve kind of lost the awareness of the value of just sitting in your own thoughts and grappling with questions. That is a form of practice.”

This applies directly to singers. You don’t always need to be at the piano or with a backing track to be “working.” Sometimes, the work is imagining your character’s inner life on a walk. Sometimes, it’s mentally rehearsing transitions while on the subway. Sometimes, it’s allowing yourself to daydream new ideas without judgment.

The practical takeaway? Give yourself permission to count the invisible work. Build thinking time into your process the same way you schedule vocal warm-ups. Those quiet moments are where breakthroughs often spark.

5. Improvise Your Way Through Transitions

Ali’s advice for artists in between gigs was simple: take an improv class.

“At the very least you’ve done six different scenes, even if they’re not funny. And suddenly you’re taking real risks. That was monumental for me.”

Why improv? Because it forces you to create without overthinking. And in a business where rejection can chip away at your confidence, having a space to play, fail, and start fresh every few minutes is liberating. Ali described how improv gave her permission to be bold again—and how it spilled over into auditions.

But improv isn’t just about comedy. The bigger point is finding outlets that keep you engaged in creative play. For some, that might be dance class, writing, or even teaching. For others, it might be painting or journaling. The practical takeaway is this: when you’re in a transition, find a low-stakes playground for your creativity. Don’t wait for your next contract to “allow” you to be an artist. Keep the fire alive by making, experimenting, and laughing in the meantime.

Final Thoughts

Ali’s story is a reminder that being an artist isn’t about following one rigid path—it’s about honoring your curiosity, protecting your creative fire, and staying brave enough to keep making things, even when the outcome is uncertain.

As she joked about her characters:

“Are any of these based on me? No—unless you love them. In which case, yes.”

We love that. And we think you’ll love Ali’s book too!

🎧 Listen to our full conversation with Ali Gordon here.

📚 Pre-order We Have Reached the End of Our Show wherever you buy books, or support your local indie bookstore at bookshop.org .