This past spring, I had the privilege of hosting the Chick-fil-A Leadercast Backstage program. I interviewed several notable authors as they came off the stage, including Seth Godin, Sir Ken Robinson, Dan Cathy, John Maxwell, and Frans Johansson. I am continuing to share these on a weekly basis.

In this interview, I talk to Alison Levine, an amazing woman that I met for the first time. Her life is an eloquent testimony to the fact that, despite physical challenges, you can accomplish extraordinary things—especially if you are persistent.

Face it. You will eventually quit your job. It may be this year. It may be next. It may be ten years from now. But it’s inevitable. It’s only a matter of time. The only real question is how to do it in a way that doesn’t burn your bridges. You never know. You may want to come back. At the very least, you may need a reference.

Unfortunately, many people don’t always end their tenure at a company as well as they begin. The key, in my opinion, is to begin with the end in mind. As leaders, we should be intentional about everything we do—even quitting.

In my previous post on this topic, I told the story of publishing my first book. I shared the significant amount of work it required and a number of setbacks that I had to overcome. I used this story as an introduction to the talk I gave on the Re:create Cruise on “The Role of Work in Creativity.”

In this post, I want to share the essence of my talk, including the common myths that aspiring writers and other creatives have about the creative life. It is what I refer to as “The Romantic View of Creativity.” It includes four assumptions:

I just returned from the Re:create Cruise 2011. We had a magnificent time aboard the Celebrity Century. The theme of the conference was “The Creative Life.” I was one of four speakers, including Pete Wilson, Ken Davis, and our host, Randy Elrod.

I spoke on “The Role of Work in Creativity.” I began by telling the story of getting my first book published. I will share that with you in this post. In my next post, I will share the four principles, I learned from my experience.

A few nights ago, I sat down with the intention to write a blog post. I had been mulling a specific idea over for several days. I thought it was a slam dunk. I should be done in 30 minutes, I thought, 45 minutes—max.

Not so much.

When I was in college, I took a summer job working at a small engine repair shop (e.g., chainsaws, lawnmowers, go-carts, etc.). This by itself is comical, because I am one of the most non-mechanical people I know. Fortunately, they hired me as a parts clerk rather than as a repairman.

My boss, however, was a very unhappy person. And he let everyone know it. He didn’t think twice about arguing with customers or chewing out his staff—in public. I was on the receiving end of his flame-throwing tongue on more than one occasion.

There comes a point in every story when you are ready to quit. It could be a relationship, a project, or your job. Regardless, you’ve had enough, and you are ready to “throw in the towel.”

My friend, Donald Miller, discusses the temptation to quit in his book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. In a chapter called “The Thing About a Crossing,” he describes something called a “story arc” or trajectory. This is the dramatic outline that nearly every great story—including yours—follows.

Yesterday was another incredible day at a The Catalyst Conference in Atlanta. We heard from Priscilla Shirer, Dave Ramsey, Chuck Swindoll, Louie Giglio, Margaret Feinberg, and Andy Stanley. I also spoke at Backstage Leadership’s luncheon event. Greg Darley, the CEO, interviewed me and then we took questions from the audience on life and leadership.

It happens to me several times a week. I want to quit. Just yesterday, I wanted to quit my run halfway into it. After the first mile, my lazy self asked, “Why can’t we just walk?” For a while, the voice got louder with each step.

Gail and I ran the Country Music Half Marathon yesterday. It was my third race and Gail’s first. I didn’t achieve my best time ever; in fact, it was my worst. But given the fact that the temperature was in the 80s for most of the morning, I was just pleased that we were able to complete the race.