Author and Marketing Expert Seth Godin recently appeared on The Tim Ferriss Podcast. The conversation was stellar. Throughout the two hour run-time I routinely pressed pause to jot down notes and copy quotes.
After pawing through several chapters, I realized that most of the information was already revealed during the Podcast. At this point I could have thrown my book at the wall. Or called the store and demanded a refund. Did I do that?
No way! I was happy to pay for the information, even though I could have got most of it for free.
This seems counter-intuitive. How can someone sell me so easily while giving away their best content for free? The answer is twofold:
Free Information Establishes Credibility: By giving away many of the juiciest bits in his book, Seth showed the audience he was a credible source. He demonstrated that he was a good communicator, knew what he was talking about, and most importantly he proved he could provide value.
Free Information Shows Generosity: Generosity is a magnetic human trait. We want to be around those who have abundant knowledge and care enough to share it. This creates likability and triggers a need for reciprocity. By giving away great content Seth not only showed his credential, but presented himself as a generous person who someone could feel good about supporting.
The lesson here:
Giving away free, awesome content pays in the long run!
But you might be thinking to yourself. That’s easy for someone like Seth Godin to do. He’s a famous author, who has sold millions of books. He can afford to be generous. I’m just starting out so I need to hold onto every good idea I have.
This is where some of us get things wrong. We think that hoarding our best ideas will make us money in the future. We think every good idea we come up with is a gold mine that we must protect.
The truth is, even if you come up with the “perfect idea” no one is going to surrender their hard earned cash unless they think you’re credible and trustworthy. And the best way to appear credible and trustworthy is to prove that you are, by generously creating and sharing content.
If you do this, people will gleefully open up their wallets when you have something to sell. They’ll be happy to buy from you, again and again, because you’ve taken the time to show you can provide value, that you understand their problems, and that you care about them.
Sure, there might be some mooches out there who take the “free-bees” and never pay for anything. But these people were never going to buy anything in the first place. Don’t dwell on the freeloaders; focus on the people who will be willing to pay once you’ve established your credentials.
This is something that someone like Seth Godin understands and why he is generous with his information. After all, he is an award winning business guru… I think he knows a thing or two about marketing.
Don’t be a miser with your content. Share your trade secrets. Do this and your audience will reward you when the time comes.
To jog your memory, it is a popular televised singing competition. Each season swarms of amatuer singers compete for a chance to become the next great American Pop Star.
Within this swarm are hundreds of thousands of individuals. Each one longing for a panel of celebrity judges to validate their musical talents, and open the door to a world of success and stardom. They are hoping to “be chosen”.
A lot has changed since the first season of American Idol. The once fledgling internet is now a ubiquitous force. The external sources that once decided if we were good enough to showcase our talents have greatly diminished.
The technological revolution has birthed hundreds of platforms where people can share content. There is a near endless buffet of choices where we can upload our ideas, present our skills, and share our work.
Yet many of us are still waiting to “be chosen”
We want some external force to give us permission to do what we want. A guiding hand to reassure us that we really are the thing we want to be. Whether that’s a singer, writer, or painter.
Now technology has given us a choice.
We can choose to be a writer. Without a publishing company
We can choose to be a musician. Without a record deal.
We can choose to be a painter. Without having a gallery open.
This is a decision we choose to make. The decision to do the work and share it with the world.
There are no guarantees in this choice. Nothing is certain in the universe. But if you choose to do the work, and make the thing you are compelled to make you put the cards in your hand.
While “gatekeepers” still exist, they no longer hold all the power. With the resources available, there is no excuse to wait to “be chosen”. There is no gatekeeper to blame. It’s up to you and you alone to choose what you want to make and do it.
In today’s type A society, “the perfectionist” is a lauded title. Often one step removed from genius. A fraternal twin to the savant.
The perfectionist is a rare breed of person. He is the innovator with the tenacity to see an idea through to its most complete form. She is the artist who is ceaseless to a fault. Never stopping at “good enough”; daring to push beyond greatness.
At its worst, “perfectionism” is seen as a highly coveted “flaw”. A top shelf foible. Just think of the stock response when a potential employer asks for your biggest weakness:
“Umm… I’m a bit of a perfectionist.”
A sentence usually spoken with a twinkle in your eye and a grin on your face. It’s a cute way of saying my biggest flaw is that I have no flaws. Hire me and I might be too good at the job.
But does perfectionism really deserve this celebrated status?
Why Perfectionism Is Dangerous
Dangerous! That’s much too strong a word to use, no?
Maybe. But I think perfectionism is uniquely deceitful. Its deceit lies in that it is a flaw masquerading as a virtue.
More often than not “perfectionism” is used as an excuse for inaction. If the genius is the perfectionist’s next of kin, then the anxious procrastinator is his close cousin. Why step in the arena and get your hands dirty, when you can sit comfortably and search for the perfect idea.
This often results in telling ourselves white lies like:
I can’t begin my novel until I come up with the PERFECT subject.
I can’t improve my health until I find the PERFECT diet.
I can’t talk to that cute gal or guy until I can think of the PERFECT thing to say.
It’s not just an “excuse”, it’s a damn good one! It passes procrastination off as quality control. You’re not putting something off, you’re giving it the time and space it needs to flourish. You don’t really have a problem, you just have high standards.
We clearly recognize lying, overeating, and uncontrollable anger as undesirable traits. Yet perfectionism gets a free pass.
What’s At The Heart Of Perfectionism?
Embedded in the quest for perfectionism is fear. Fear of failure. Fear of vulnerability. Fear of losing control. And oftentimes fear of doing the dirty work it takes to make changes in your life.
Perfection is a shield against this unpleasant emotion.
The PERFECT novel shields you from the anxiety and self doubt of publishing something that may be ignored or poorly received.
The PERFECT diet shields you from doing the difficult work it takes to adjust your eating habits, and facing the negative self image you have around your body.
The PERFECT words to say to an attractive stranger shields you from the potential for rejection and embarrassment.
When someone talks about the “perfect” idea; what they really mean is one that is immune from criticism. One that, by its definition, would have to be accepted and revered. One that is failure proof.
It is your ego’s guardian angel. Its protector. It wants to save it; but it can’t.
How To Deal With Perfectionism
Step 1: Accept Imperfection As A Fact Of Life.
Perfection doesn’t exist. At least not in the world we inhabit. It may live as an abstraction, but certainly not as something tangible that you can achieve or create.
Even things we anoint as masterpieces could be improved if we combed through them enough. The “perfect” film, novel, or song could be subtly enhanced by re-shooting a scene, rewording a sentence, or re-arranging a verse.
No matter how hard you strive you will never meet this elusive standard. Lessen your burden by remembering:
Something perfect has never existed nor will it ever exist in the world.
Step 2: Question Whether Perfection Is Actually Desirable
What if you could achieve perfection? What if we lived in a world without flaws: where everyone had statuesque bodies, lightning quick wits, and genius level IQs? Is this a reality you would like to live in?
Or is there truth to the expression:” We love people because of their flaws, not in spite of them”?
In life and art there is no figure as celebrated as the flawed hero. Strife and fallibility are at the heart of the human narrative. No one has ever written a great story about an unblemished protagonist.
We relate to the faulty figure who fights to get what they want. We do this because in life we find meaning in wrestling with our imperfections. It’s what makes the human struggle, a beautiful struggle. We may be walking whirlwinds of frailty and neuroses; but dog gonnit we try our best!
Step 3: Use Perfection As A Guide Not An End Point
Some of the more contrarian readers may be thinking:
“Wait a minute! There are a lot of successful, talented people who consider themselves perfectionists. They’re not the anxious dawdlers described in this blog. What gives?!”
You know what, you’re right! There are many accomplished perfectionists. So does a healthy level of perfectionism in fact exist?
I would argue it does. But only if you view perfection as a path towards progress and not an endpoint. This means having high standards, but not letting them come in the way of getting started, moving forward, or completing something.
Perfectionism becomes unhealthy when it is used as a form of avoidance. When it becomes an invitation to beat yourself up for not living up to impossible standards. And when it deludes us into thinking that there is a pain-free shortcut to doing difficult work.
Growth comes through many imperfect attempts at something. It takes time and labor; and god knows it ain’t always pretty. But it begins with taking a courageous, crooked step; and hoping to stumble in the right direction.
“Music has always been a matter of Energy to me, a question of Fuel. Sentimental people call it Inspiration, but what they really mean is Fuel. I have always needed Fuel. I am a serious consumer. On some nights I still believe that a car with the gas needle on empty can run about fifty more miles if you have the right music very loud on the radio.” – Hunter S. Thompson.
The quote above is from writer and gonzo journalist Hunter S. Thompson.
While the quote specifically references music, I believe the fuel metaphor applies to all great art. And like Thompson: “I too am a serious consumer”!
One of the many things I love about the quote is the distinction between inspiration and fuel.
“Inspiration” is an abstract and indolent figure of speech. “Fuel” on the other hand is palpable and propulsive! It’s the ingredient for action.
Great art should induce action. Whether that means getting started, getting back to work, or simply getting out of bed in the morning.
And unlike petrol gas, it is a renewable resource. A force of perpetual motion, in constant supply to those who need it.
It is proof of the limitless capacity for human potential. A reminder that there is still magic in the world. Sparks and whistles that push past the dull hum of day-to-day life.
As such, it is both a marvel and a challenge. Something to gawk at, and something that dares you to improve.
You’re made of the same raw material as the people who created something sublime. You have the same potential in yourself. Are you willing to seize? Or at least try?
Nike’s tagline “Just Do It” is perhaps the most recognizable marketing slogan of all time.
For over three decades this catch phrase has served as a call to action for the slakers of the world to get off their ass, go for a run, and most importantly buy sneakers!
On the first day of class Florida photography professor Jerry Uelsmann, separates his students into two groups.
One group of students are graded on the number of pictures they take. The more pictures they submit, the better the grade. The quality doesn’t matter.
The other group of students are graded on the quality of their photos. If they choose, they could spend the entire semester composing one perfect photo to submit for a grade.
Which group do you think submitted the best quality photo?
At the end of the semester the best photos came from the group graded on the quantity of photos they took.
Why is this?
While the members of the “quality group” sat around thinking about how to produce the perfect photo, the “quantity group” were out experimenting with different forms of lighting and composition, learning from the mistakes, and mastering their craft.
This experiment is a punch in the gut to the dawdling perfectionists out there.
It disproves the notion that you can think your way to a great idea. And suggests that “great ideas” are often built on the breadcrumbs of the hundreds of good, bad, and ugly ones that came before them.
“Morning pages” is a creative exercise popularized in Julia Cameron’s book “The Artist’s Way”. The practice itself is straightforward. First thing in the morning you pen three pages of longhand writing. That’s it.
What you choose to write about is unimportant. There is no aim other than to fill three pages. As Cameron herself puts it:
“There is no wrong way to do Morning Pages– they are not high art. They are not even “writing.”
There are many purported benefits to doing morning pages: some people use them as a way to purge their mind of unconscious baggage, others to prioritize and create a to-do list. But I like to think of them as a way to practice writing without “writing”.
Much of what we think of as “writing” is polishing. It is transforming raw ideas into something coherent, and readable. It is a necessary, perhaps the most necessary, part of the process. But also the most stressful.
Morning pages remove the polish. They let ideas flow without judgement. It is meditation through the written word.
No one is meant to see your morning pages. Your High School teacher will not give you a grade on them. Your editor will not pick them apart. They will not appall or astonish your audience. They exist, simply, to get your thoughts on page in their crudest form.
Paradoxically, a lot of good ideas come when you relinquish effort and just write. Your self consciousness doesn’t always serve your work… especially in it’s infantile stages. So why not suspend your judgement, let your pen move, and practice writing without “writing”.
I find it to be a creative Rorschach Test: an individual’s answer reveals their unconscious beliefs, fears, and prejudices about themselves and their craft.
For this particular quandary people usually fall into one of two camps:
Camp 1: The lucky optimist who views the blank page as fertile ground to fill with thoughts and ideas… a representation of the endless possibilities that writing offers.
Camp 2: The neurotic pessimist who sees the blank page as an empty void. One that can never be filled, and spits their deepest anxieties back at them.
Which camp do you belong to?
Unfortunately, I find myself in the latter camp. One of, I think, a silent majority of writers who are both titillated and terrified by the blank page.
It’s the creative equivalent of Agoraphobia. Too much space means there is nowhere to hide from your inner thoughts and neuroses.
Yesterday I started a writing challenge called the Anxious Writer’s Power Hour. In the challenge I gave myself a strict deadline of one hour to write an article.
What you’re reading is my first entry. I have 10 minutes left on the clock so I don’t have the luxury of going into more details…
But my hope for the project is that it tempers my anxiety about writing. That setting time constraints can make the process less overwhelming.
And most importantly, that I can inch my way towards Camp 1 and have an amicable relationship with the beloved, and often maligned blank page.
If my writing process had a spirit animal it would be the Tortoise from the fable “The Tortoise And The Hare”.
For those unfamiliar, “The Tortoise And The Hare” is a childhood tale in which a tortoise challenges a fast, boastful Hare to a race. The Hare accepts, expecting to rout his slow moving opponent.
On the day of the race, the Hare jumps to a commanding lead. So commanding, that he decides to take a nap before completing the race. While the Hare snoozes the tenacious Tortoise inches his way forward, and crosses the finish line just as the Hare wakes up… teaching the shittalking and showboating Hare an important lesson in humility.
How does humble pie taste you cocky asshole
As a writer I’ve always loved the fabled tortoise. Like the lumbering hero, my writing process is slow and steadfast… often painfully so. I anguish over every word, labor over half formed sentences, and pick apart each paragraph like a wounded body on an operating table.
Is this enjoyable?
No, in fact, at times it is insanity inducing. But I’ve always viewed it as a cost of business. While the process may be painstakingly slow, something as sacred as the written word deserves this level of care. As the Tortoise And The Hare teaches us: slow and steady wins the race.
But what if the Tortoise isn’t the hero we make him out to be? What if the Hare is really the enviable character of the story?
We praise the Tortoise’s plodding persistence, but we ignore the Hare’s rapid efficiency. Let us not forget that the cocky Hare dozed off, and was still inches away from winning the race. If he had invested in a better alarm clock, he could have enjoyed both a swift victory and much needed nap. If that’s not efficiency in action I don’t know what is.
Good Luck In The Rematch
This hot take has put my own writing process into question. Are my agonizing writing procedures a necessary evil, or an excuse for my own inefficiency? Perhaps this writer could learn something from the newly humbled Hare. That’s why I created:
The Anxious Writer’s Power Hour
The challenge is an A/B test between two different writing methods. I want to pit my cautious, methodical writing process against one that is fast, free flowing, and (hopefully) more efficient. It’s a title fight between my inner perfectionist and his nimble, easy going cousin.
So how does it work?
For the next 4 weeks I will write 6 articles a week. Each article must be at least 250 words.
During the week (Monday thru Friday) I will write what I call “Hare Articles”.
A “Hare Article” has a strict time limit. Each weekday I will set a timer for an hour and start writing. Once the clock hits 60 minutes, I stop. It doesn’t matter if my work is incomplete, incoherent, or an inspired mess: once the hour is up, I stop writing and post what I’ve done.
Over the weekend I pass the baton to the more exacting part of my brain, and write a “Tortoise Article”.
A “tortoise article” is a post without a strict time limit. I can take as much time as I need over the weekend to complete it. As long as I submit it by 11:59pm on Sunday night.
At the end of the month I will submit the best “tortoise” and “hare” articles to a panel of my most sophisticated friends, and they will select a winner.
Who will win? Anyone’s guess!
Will Tony learn a lesson? I hope so!
Will he lose his mind in the process? Undoubtedly!
I invite you to place your bets, take your seats, and enjoy The Anxious Writer’s Power Hour!
On the evening of October 31st I came up with a silly idea. Most silly ideas I have are shot on site. However, through some miraculous ruse this one snuck past the gatekeeper and on November 1st The Be Creative And Shit Challenge was born!
The idea was simple: every day of the month of November I would create and share something (a drawing, poem, sculpture, etc.). The catch was, the quality of the creation didn’t matter. In fact, the shittier the better! I wanted to set the bar so low I had no excuse not to make something everyday.
I didn’t have many expectations going into the challenge. I thought of it as a playful way to flex my creative muscle, and get a chuckle from my friends and family kind enough to care.
However, in the process I learned some things about the joy of creation, laughing at your self consciousness, and the importance of taking small, silly, but bold actions in your life.
This blog is a summation of what I learned from making shitty art for a month.
The guy who made this sculpture is about to give you life advice
Lesson 1: You have hands for a reason. Use them!
We live in a digital world. A growing chunk of the population spends most of their waking hours slouched over Laptops and Tablets. Entire careers consist of moving lines of code, parsing through ones and zeroes. Even creative acts like photography, music production, and film making are done digitally.
These statements aren’t meant to disparage technology. It has provided many wonderful resources for people to create and share their work. But I think it has robbed us of the experience of creating physical things. Molding and manipulating objects is a uniquely human affair, it is what separates us from other lame animals without opposable thumbs.
Nice phins bro
The challenge reconnected me to the primal pleasure of crafting things with my hands. The tactile sensation of penning words on a page, brush strokes on a canvass, wet clay in my palms. I even wrote the first draft of this article with pen and paper. Check it out in its messy glory.
The digital world may be sleek and shiny but it is not a substitute for making something tangible. You’ve got hands for a reason, put them to good use!
Lesson 2: Set The Bar Low At The Beginning
The motto for this challenge is “create and share one SHITTY thing a day”. The emphasis on “shitty” was intentional. I wanted to remove any quality control from the process, and set the bar so low that failure was near impossible.
Anyone who has wanted to lose weight, save money, or work towards a goal of any sort knows that building a habit is diabolically difficult. If it were easy we would all have six pack abs and thousands more dollars in the bank. The same goes for any creative habit. That’s why I set a goal for myself that was only one step removed from “put your ass in a seat”.
The cool thing is, once you put said “ass in a seat” great things can happen. Simply showing up makes a difference. It builds momentum, strengthens the “habit building” synapses in your brain, and can lead you to create something you’re proud of.
Pretty Proud Of This Guy
Marginal gains aren’t sexy, but they are the building blocks that lead to something bigger.
Lesson 3: The Key To Sucking Less Is Giving Yourself Permission To Suck
Here’s the tough truth about starting anything… You suck in the beginning. It doesn’t matter if it’s playing the piano, teaching yourself to code, or learning to juggle, you’re not going to be very good when you begin.
And it gets worse! if you’re passionate about something you know what it looks like when performed at a high level, and you know that what you’re doing doesn’t compare. This is a phenomena that American Public Radio Personality Ira Glass calls “The Gap”.
Is there a way to pole vault over this dreaded gap, and skip the suckage? Not one that I’ve discovered, or anyone else for that matter. But The Be Creative And Shit Challenge taught me a cheat code you can use to lessen these growing pains:
Give yourself permission to suck!
Gave myself plenty of permission to suck with this sketch
Embrace your mediocrity with open arms. As Winston Churchill put it “success is going from failure to failure with great enthusiasm”. Starting anything is hard enough, haranguing yourself because you’re not “good” makes it twice as difficult. You’re now fighting a war on two fronts. Simply acknowledging that, at its onset, doing anything is hard and you’re going to suck a little takes pressure off yourself, and clears space for you to improve.
Lesson 4: Embrace Anonymity
Each day before posting my shitty work, my anxious mind took great joy in imagining all sorts of nightmare scenarios that would occur when I hit “send”. Sometimes my work would ignite an angry twitter mob. Sometimes it would awaken a nasty troll lurking on the dark corners of the internet. Other times it would be the object of ridicule by all the pretty girls who wouldn’t date me in High School.
To my knowledge none of these nightmare scenarios occurred. What happened instead? Well… nothing really. A friend might send a few words of support or the occasional heart emoji, but for the most part my beloved creations were either ignored, glossed over, or quickly forgotten after someone posted a more riveting picture of their dog in sunglasses.
Nothing you create will ever be better than this
At first glance this was disheartening. Why won’t the world shower me with the praise or scorn I so duly deserve? But upon further reflection was quite liberating!
You’ll never have as much freedom as when you’re starting out. Use your anonymity to find a voice and master your craft. Let it provide a safe space to experiment with ideas… especially whacky ones like this challenge. Some of them won’t stick, but who cares; hardly anyone’s watching.
Lesson 5:The Essence Of Creativity Is Fucking Around
I want to let you in on a little secret… Making terrible art is fun. I mean like REALLY fun!
People seem to enjoy it too. My most beloved works were often the shittiest.
A Fan Favorite
There is something disarming about seeing a horrible drawing. It lowers your defenses and makes both the creator and the observer a little less self conscious. It’s a reminder to be playful in a world that often seems sad and serious.
Writer and cartoonist Tim Kreider said: “The essence of creativity is fucking around; art is that which is done for the hell of it”. I say we take this “fucking around” a little more seriously. At the end of the day we’re a bunch of monkey descendants on a rock hurtling through space. Why not enjoy the ride!
Lesson 6: If you want to be “creative” embrace the verb “to create”
In his article “The noun and the verb”, writer and illustrator Austin Kleon says: lots of people want to be a noun (writer, painter, actor) without doing the verb (writing, painting, acting). He concludes by urging people to “Let go of the thing that you’re trying to be (the noun), and focus on the actual work you need to be doing (the verb).”
For this blog I’m re-purposing his idea into: “If you want to be creative (adjective), embrace the verb “to create”.
Prior to this challenge, I fancied myself a creative person. I had some vague ideas in my head about songs, blogs, and books I’d like to write. I may have even lavished myself with titles like writer, poet, musician… all while creating nothing.
This whole silly endeavor was a challenge to myself to create something, anything, no matter how trivial it was. To do the verb “create”, even in it’s shittiest form, rather than sit comfortably and pine to be creative while not backing it up with any action.
This challenge was what I needed to get started. The blog you’re reading is me giving myself the advice I need to keep going. It’s personal but I think I’m far from alone in this struggle. If you’ve related to any of this, I invite you to embrace the verb and go out and create something!
Lesson 7: Support The Shit That Inspires You
I was going to end on the last point but there’s an immutable law of blogging that the best listicles need seven items.
I’ll keep this short and sweet. There are a lot of people out there making better art than the shit I’ve shared over the past month. These people have been some of the hardest hit by the global pandemic.
If you have money to spare, make a statement with your dollar and support people in your community making cool shit.
