Max Kerman of Arkells on Creativity, Curiosity, and the Power of Enthusiasm

When most people find themselves with free time, they often turn to a TV show or movie. But Max Kerman, lead singer of the Canadian band Arkells, decided instead to write a book.

“I was looking for something new to sink my teeth into, where I would be challenged, learn a lot, and most of all, enjoy it,” Kerman said in an email to CBC Books.

His debut title, Try Hard, offers readers a behind-the-scenes look at life as a touring musician. Blending memoir with self-help, the book demystifies the creative process and offers practical insights into writing music, preparing for performances, and navigating the business of being in a band. Kerman’s core message? That success often comes down to effort, curiosity, and a sincere willingness to participate fully in whatever you’re doing.

“I hope this comes through in the writing, but enthusiasm — plain old enthusiasm — really goes a long way,” he wrote. “Such an obvious point, but anyone who gets anything done is simply enthusiastic about the work.”

Kerman continues: “If you can earnestly participate in some pursuit, for no other reason than understanding that the act of participating is the gift itself, then good things usually come. Unexpected things. So, I hope the book can be a nudge to anyone who needs one. None of it is rocket science — it’s just ‘one foot in front of the other’ stuff.”

Excerpt from Try Hard
Chapter: Vince_Kerman

In Grade 7, Ms. Janes gave our class a research assignment. Each of us was to interview someone from the community who had a job we might want one day, and then write a report based on that conversation.

Most of my classmates took fairly traditional routes — talking to a family friend who was a dental hygienist or going to the local fire station to meet a firefighter. But those options didn’t excite me. It was 1999, and I was singularly obsessed with Vince Carter, the breakout star of the Toronto Raptors. I wanted to use this assignment as an excuse to get closer to him.

I was so taken with Vince that I made him part of my identity. My brand-new Hotmail address was vince_kerman@hotmail.com. I once invited him to my birthday party (he didn’t respond), attended his summer basketball camp, and drew pictures of him in art class.

Realistically, I knew I wouldn’t be able to get in touch with Vince himself. So I came up with a different idea: I’d reach out to the person who drafted Vince — Glen Grunwald, the Raptors’ general manager at the time. Glen was a former Division I basketball player, then a lawyer, and eventually a sports executive. He was the architect of the team and, in my mind, had the coolest job imaginable. It was an ambitious idea, but also a really exciting one.

I opened the phone book and looked up the Toronto Raptors front office under the business listings. There I found their phone number and address at the newly opened Air Canada Centre. Without overthinking it, I picked up the phone and called.

In my best preteen voice, I nervously asked, “Can I please speak to Mr. Glen Grunwald?”

“Please hold,” came the reply.

A minute later, I was transferred to his secretary. My heart was pounding. I explained, as professionally as I could, that I was working on a school project and that Glen had my dream job. Perhaps it was the unexpectedness of my call, or maybe I just caught her in a generous mood, but she agreed to arrange a phone interview.

From that moment, my school project became the most exciting thing in my life. It was no longer just an assignment — it was an adventure. That simple decision to follow my passion, even in something as mundane as a homework project, revealed something fundamental: chasing what genuinely excites you always feels more rewarding than taking the safe or obvious route.

I spoke with Glen while he was traveling with the team in Charlotte, North Carolina. He gave me about twenty minutes of his time, answering all of my questions with kindness and patience. I later sent him follow-up questions by email. Then, to my complete amazement, he and my dad secretly coordinated a birthday surprise: a backstage tour of the Raptors’ arena and locker room before a game.

Vince Carter’s stint in Toronto may have been brief, but his impact on Canadian basketball was lasting. For me, however, the connection I developed with Glen Grunwald became the most meaningful takeaway. The thrill of reaching out, of making contact, of seeing what might happen — that’s a feeling I’ve carried with me into every part of my life and career.

I often ask myself: where does that instinct to just ask come from? I’m not entirely sure. But I know that reaching out, making connections, and seeing what opportunities arise has become second nature. The stakes are rarely high. I don’t expect people to owe me anything. I just hope they’ll recognize a spark of something interesting, or fun, or kind.

Sure, most of the time you won’t get the response you’re hoping for. And that’s okay. If you hold onto every rejection, you’ll never move forward. Personally, I’m lucky to have the memory of a goldfish.

And that’s what keeps me going: I’m just poking around, seeing what might happen next.