What makes a kid cry on her birthday? The occasional cake-induced stomachache or bouncy-house bruise, sure. For Zoe Kazan, it was a sense of what she was leaving farther behind, and she cried every year. A direct and unselfconscious view of our imagination and its creative expression gets harder and harder to find in the rearview mirror unless you cultivate and protect it. Kazan tries hard to do just that through work that she loves, in a business she often doesn’t. Acting is a joyful challenge (just watch Olive Kitteridge and The Big Sick); writing, especially stage plays, is a painful one. Both expose her voice and ideas – her soul – for all of us to judge. If you believe the only true art is personal, you must decide if you’ll risk your ego to make it. If the answer’s yes, you’re in the right place. It’s a thrilling, terrifying place, and Kazan rather likes the neighborhood.