From Austin Kleon’s book, Show Your Work.

There’s a moment in creative work when the process can seem as compelling as the product. Oscar nominated filmmaker (and former Sac State Hornet—Stingers Up!) Ryan Coogler just gave us a masterclass in this philosophy—while talking about film perforations, in connection with his new film, Sinners.

In the short video, he stands in front of a camera, holding strips of film like precious artifacts. Super 8, Super 16, 35 millimeter, 65 millimeter—each a different window into storytelling. This is how Coogler introduced his new horror film, not with a typical trailer or press junket, but with a deeply nerdy, profoundly passionate explanation of how the film was made.

He’s doing something riveting: inviting us into the kitchen while the meal is being cooked.

Sinners is a horror movie, but Coogler’s explanation reveals it’s also an experiment in cinematic experience. He didn’t just choose film formats randomly. Each technical decision was a deliberate storytelling choice. When he talks about using different aspect ratios for moments of “emotional intensity, musical intensity, or horror intensity,” he’s revealing something profound about how art is constructed.

Picture this: During the most intense moments of the film, the screen itself will change. It will expand, becoming more immersive, more overwhelming. The technical choice mirrors the emotional experience. The format becomes part of the storytelling.

This is exactly what artist, writer and creative guru Austin Kleon has been preaching, particularly in his book, SHOW YOUR WORK. Showing your work isn’t just about transparency—it’s about revealing the magic behind the magic. It’s demonstrating that creativity isn’t some mystical process that happens behind closed doors, but a thoughtful, intentional (or sometimes accidental) journey.

Coogler isn’t just making a movie. He’s crafting an experience.

He talks about working with only ten locations worldwide that can show the film in its most authentic IMAX 15 Perf projection—a format so rare it sounds like a secret handshake among film enthusiasts. But he’s not being exclusive. He’s inviting us to understand why this matters.

The horror genre becomes a perfect metaphor for this approach. Horror, at its best, is about revealing what’s hidden. Coogler is doing the same thing with his filmmaking process. He’s pulling back the curtain, showing us the mechanics of fear, of storytelling, of visual manipulation.

When he describes choosing film formats that create “darker, deeper blacks” for a horror movie, he’s talking about more than technical specifications. He’s talking about how to create an emotional experience. The black isn’t just a color—it’s a canvas for fear, for the unknown.

This is what showing your work means. It’s not just displaying your process—it’s revealing your thinking. It’s demonstrating that creativity is a deliberate, thoughtful act.

For writers, for artists, for anyone who creates, there’s a profound lesson here. Your process is not separate from your art. It is your art. The choices you make—whether they’re about film perforations or paragraph breaks—are part of the story you’re telling.

Coogler could have just released the movie. Instead, he gave us a masterclass in creative intention. He showed us that the how is just as important as the what.

In an age of instant consumption, where we’re bombarded with finished products, there’s something revolutionary about pausing. About understanding. About seeing the human hands that shape our stories.

This is more than behind-the-scenes content. This is an invitation. A chance to see creativity not as a mysterious gift, but as a craft. Something learned, practiced, refined, explored.

It’s why I like to write about HOW I write—character delineation, world building, plot pacing, and the like.