Every once in a while, I sit down with someone whose creative journey feels like a mirror held up to my own—only with a few more plot twists, a couple more passport stamps, and significantly better hair. That was my conversation with actor-turned-author Max Shippee, a man who has lived in more states than I’ve owned pairs of work boots, and who somehow manages to balance acting, writing, gym ownership, and fatherhood without spontaneously combusting.

Acting to Author

Max grew up in rural Maine, dancing on stage with his siblings in what I can only imagine was the most wholesome production of “Shippees and Shippettes” ever performed. From there, he pinballed across the country—Oklahoma, Nevada, Texas, D.C.—before landing in Hollywood and eventually Bali. Along the way, he collected stories and experiences.

His debut novel, Moonshine: Path of the Raven, was a natural evolution of his creative journey. It made me think back to my first book which was… well, let’s just say it was a learning experience. But Max’s first chapter hooked me instantly. The man writes like he’s been doing it for decades.

When I asked him how he pulled that off, he gave credit where credit was due: his wife. “She taught Shakespeare for years,” he said. “She’s way smarter than me.” And honestly, after hearing how she pushed him to deepen the spells in his book—turning them from cute rhymes into layered, prophetic poetry—I believe him. As Max put it, “Writing is rewriting,” and those spells took them three to four days to get right.

That became a theme in our conversation:

The work beneath the work

The drafts behind the draft. The reps behind the performance.

Max told me his book went through 13–15 drafts depending on the chapter. I laughed because I’ve lived that life. My first drafts are basically a crime scene—bodies everywhere, no structure, characters wandering off into the woods. But like Max, I’ve learned to love the refining process. That’s where the magic happens.

And then Max dropped a phrase I’m never going to forget:

Earned endings

He talked about how the ending of his book came to him early, and how that created a kind of pressure—good pressure—to make the rest of the story worthy of that final moment. “If someone spends nine hours with you,” he said, “you better leave them with something they’re thinking about.”

He’s right. Whether it’s a book, a film, or a YouTube video, people remember two things: the highlight and the ending. If you can nail those, you’ve done your job.

But Max’s journey isn’t just about writing. Acting has been a huge part of his life, even though he didn’t originally plan on it. In college, he majored in chemical engineering… while on a theater scholarship. By his second semester, he had done six shows and earned a D in chemistry. “This is what’s working,” he told himself. “This is what isn’t.”

That honesty about what’s actually working, is something a lot of creatives struggle with. We cling to the idea of what we should be doing instead of what we’re built to do.

Today’s acting environment

Max leaned into what came naturally: movement, storytelling, and emotional truth. That led him to commercials, soap operas, and a long run on The Young and the Restless, where he learned to shoot 70 pages a day. Yes, you read that right. Seventy. “You learn to make choices fast,” he said. “You don’t get to internalize everything. You hit your mark, trust the music, and go.”

But acting isn’t a stable career, and Max is brutally honest about that. Commercials can pay well, but they can also lock you out of other work for months. TV royalties aren’t what they used to be. Streaming changed the game. And the industry has been hit hard by strikes, COVID, and shifting budgets.

Surviving financially

So Max did what many working creatives eventually have to do: he built a side business. In 2009, he opened a CrossFit gym—not to get rich, but to create stability. “It pays some bills,” he said. “It takes stress off the plate.” It also kept him fit, gave him community, and provided a place where lawyers, plumbers, teachers, and actors all sweat together.

I resonated with that deeply. I’ve said it before: your creative life is only as strong as the foundation you build under it. If your finances are chaos, your art will suffer. If your schedule is dictated by someone else, your creativity gets squeezed into the cracks. Max and I both learned that the hard way.

And yet, despite the challenges, Max radiates gratitude. He credits his wife, his kids, his in-laws, his gym community. He knows he’s lucky to have support. I feel the same way. Without my wife, none of this—Light-Minded Arts, the books, the filmmaking—would exist.

When I asked Max what advice he’d give new creatives, he didn’t hesitate: get your reps in.

Whether it’s writing, acting, painting, filmmaking—do it every day. Not once a month. Not when inspiration strikes. Every day. “The muse doesn’t show up unless you’re already working,” he said. And he’s right. Consistency beats talent every time.

His second piece of advice echoed something I preach constantly: build a stable life so your creativity has room to breathe. It takes five to ten years to build anything meaningful. Whether it’s your financial base or your artistic skill, you have to be patient, persistent, and willing to iterate.

Max’s journey is a reminder that the creative life isn’t a straight line. It’s a winding path through dance studios, chemistry labs, Vegas stages, CrossFit gyms, and quiet rooms where you rewrite the same stanza for the tenth time. It’s messy, unpredictable, and occasionally ridiculous. But if you stick with it, if you earn your endings, it’s worth every step.

And if you want to see what an earned ending looks like, go check out Moonshine: Path of the Raven. Max is building something special, and I’m excited to see where his story goes next.

You can find his book here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DFWQWXQ9?maas=maas_adg_0B8544EDDA6DC04070F85D78EDC0CF03_afap_abs&ref_=aa_maas&tag=maas