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- đź’ś[11/28] the creativity for good friday five
đź’ś[11/28] the creativity for good friday five
this week’s highlights on creativity for good
Shelly Jay Shore
November 28, 2025
Hello, friends! I’ve got book edits due Monday at 9am, we’re four days out from Giving Tuesday and I’m a professional fundraiser, and the daily “oh shit, we are really fast-tracking ourselves to a fascist dystopia!” news blasts are getting increasingly louder. Fun!
Speaking of fascist dystopias, I went out to see Wicked: For Good this morning for my mom’s birthday (happy birthday, mommy!). Putting aside the many feelings I have as a theater purist about film adaptations, I’ve been fascinated by the extent to which the movie has been covered as “political” or “full of anti-Trump messaging” — as if the original book, and the musical, haven’t been fairly obviously about the power of propaganda, fascist governments and their appointed figureheads, the manipulative role of the media, and the ways that marginalized groups are scapegoated to distract from the people in power actively targeting rights and freedoms.
While I think that the political messaging of the film is much more of an “if the shoe fits” than a “we’ve changed the original message of the story to give a particular fuck you to the Trump administration,” I certainly don’t deny that it does pack a significant punch in this moment. Without going too deep into spoilers, the conversation around when it’s time to flee versus the decision to stay and fight is a particularly poignant one for me and others in the queer and trans community.
But I also come back, fairly frequently, to the lessons I took away from reading the Amberlough Dossier (Lara Elena Donnelly) this past summer, a political trilogy about a country that is taken over by a fascist government and then, eventually, falls to a revolutionary force and comes back from the ashes. In a newsletter back in September, I wrote,
One of the most surprising things about it for me, as a reader, was that the third book — which one would expect to be the blazing climax in which the fascist government is dismantled — takes place in the wake of revolution, focusing not on the guns and glory but on the messy, complicated, difficult work of rebuilding.
Rebuilding is an act of creation — but more than that, it’s an act of recreation, creating something anew.
The theme of the third book in the series, Amnesty, isn’t just about the rebuilding of a new society after a successful revolution, but about accountability. What do those who left — for fear of their safety, to protect their loved ones, to simply continue their lives in peace — owe to those who stayed behind to fight? What do those who were complicit — through action or inaction — owe to those who were harmed? What do those who were harmed deserve from those who sat back passively and let that harm happen? Who has the most responsibility to make things right — and what should they be required to give up in order to do so?
(There’s a bit at the end of the movie, which I will not spoil, which so casually drifts over almost all of those questions that it actually cracked through my post-”For Good” tears and made me say, “You must be joking.” I won’t say what, but like. IYKYK.)
Anyway. The point of all of this is twofold.
First, sometimes movies are fantastic allegories for current events, and provide a spectacular tool for exploring and investigating the beliefs we have about the current moment and our role in it.
Second, Wicked: For Good is a certified banger, I will be singing it for the foreseeable future (I am in fact listening to it as I write this) and because of that, it will also be the framing device for this week’s Friday Five.
You’re welcome and/or I’m sorry, and if you hate musicals, I will see you next week.
(Also: There is an entire additional newsletter about how absolutely, deeply gay that movie was. I’ll send that another time. But like. Wow. That was gay gay.)
your friday five!
this week’s highlights on creating for good — Wicked edition!
“Popular”
It's not about aptitude, it's the way you're viewed
So it's very shrewd to be
Very, very popular like me
What role, if any, does a desire for recognition play in your creative work? How do you think about popularity — awards, “best-of” lists, industry recognition, a professional profile or platform — not just in your own work, but in the works of others? Would you rather make something hugely successful but without expressing your values and voice, or put your passion and perspective into your work, even if it never sells?
“Defying Gravity”
I'm through accepting limits
'Cause someone says they're so
Some things I cannot change
But 'til I try, I'll never know
What is the one cause for which you would draw a line in the sand and refuse to budge — no matter what it might cost you? How does that cause manifest in your creative work — literally? Metaphorically? On the flip side: If you don’t have such a cause, what does it feel like to notice that? How does it change the way you look at yourself, your work, or both?
“Thank Goodness / Couldn’t Be Happier”
But I couldn't be happier
Simply couldn't be happier
Well, not "simply"
'Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little, well, complicated
Have you ever made a creative sacrifice in your work in order to achieve success, please a gatekeeper, or make your work more “palatable”? What did that feel like? Was it worth it? Why or why not? What did you learn from the experience? Would you make the same choice today?
“No Good Deed”
No good deed goes unpunished
Sure, I meant well, well, look at what well-meant did
Alright, enough, so be it, so be it then
Let all Oz be agreed I'm Wicked through and through
Since I can not succeed, Fiyero, saving you
I promise no good deed will I attempt to do again, ever again
Have you ever hit the “fuck you, fuck this, fuck everything” point with your work — that point where you realize it’s impossible to please everyone, so you’re going to just do what you want, and screw the haters? What was that moment like? What did you do in response? How did it change your work, your approach, your creative process, your creative self? How has it changed your career? Conversely, if you haven’t ever hit that point: What do you think it would take to get there? What do you think you would do?
“For Good”
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
I have been changed for good
Looking back at your life, what moment — or person, or discovery, or experience — has had the most significant impact on your creative work? What made it (or them) so meaningful? How do you honor that person, that moment, that change, in your work today?
See you next week!
đź’śShelly
P.S. If you’re from the U.S. and not indigenous, and haven’t made a donation to a Native American nation, organization, or person this week, please consider doing so! If it’s helpful, here are the three orgs my family supported this year: