"That's one way to do it."

CRITICISM IS EASY.

Take the harder high road, the more productive path.

Early in my career I had a mentor who was as methodical as the day is long.

I had worked with process-minded people before, but this was a level of process reaching stratospheric proportions. As much as I respected this woman and her many accomplishments, the mere thought of being caught in her process web would send me and some of my fellow colleagues into the proverbial fetal position.  

She held professional titles that included teacher, legislative aide, attorney/partner, executive, plant manager, principal – and she brought every bit of herself and influence from those previous roles and experiences to bear on the work for our clients.

There were days when my younger self hated the prospect of entering her office knowing her full range of experience was about to come crashing down on the crumb of work I was trying to implement for a client.

All I wanted was a simple yes or no; do this or change that.

But the teacher in her wouldn’t make it so easy. Not when she saw a student in front of her.

“That’s one way to do it...”

She had a wealth of stories and phrases that she dropped like clockwork on us. It got to a point, or even a time of year, when we could anticipate them. One that sticks in my head to this day is – “That’s one way to do it.”

Translation: We are not doing it that way.

For years it seemed I was prolific in doing it that one (wrong) way.

It never came off as criticism. It was more a glaring fact, and the more you thought about it you intuitively knew she was right: this was not the way to do it.

I’m sure there were times when she would’ve enjoyed going off script to rip into me and my thinking. Still, she never criticized my ideas or the draft work I put in front of her. Instead she willingly gave me time (and demanded undivided attention from me in return) as she worked alongside me to make things better.

Better, I learned, was a much steeper climb than I thought possible.

Doing the hard work for me wasn’t the experience she was willing to pass down. She also knew that criticizing the work would erode trust in the process. Her experiences helped to guide how she would teach others through experience, and by that I mean failure, and revision, and more revision, until we revised our way into something wholly new and different. Maybe she knew that all along, and what she knew I needed to experience. I can hear her words in my head:

“YOUR FIRST IDEA IS NEVER YOUR BEST IDEA, KID.”

Don’t be wooed by your own sense of accomplishment. There is always room for improvement.

She also didn’t criticize the work of clients or competitors. If we had a different approach, we’d work hard to show value in presenting an alternative perspective. We would be persistent but patient. We would be respectful but resolute. And yes, we’d even be willing to rethink our thinking: is this just one way to do it, or might there actually be a better way than we initially envisioned, now that we have greater insight?

CRITICISM IS EASY.

Take the harder high road, the more productive path.

I don’t recall her ever saying this. She didn’t have to.

But it’s what I gleaned from her and an unwavering work ethic — as a teacher imparting wisdom; as someone in politics who knew that common ground is what moves things forward; as an attorney who understood all the ramifications of missteps; as an executive who valued culture and strategic plans as equally important and intertwined; as a plant manager who took responsibility for people, parts and productivity; and as a principal who never compromised her long-held principles.

When we choose to criticize prospective or existing clients for “not getting it” or when we criticize our competition for taking approaches we disagree with or find unprincipled, we need to recognize it for what it is:  wasted energy that doesn’t lead us down a more productive path.

When we find ourselves in these situations, perhaps we can flip our thinking and be more thankful for what we learn from doing the hard high road work — and that helps us in the end. Restraint and resilience pay powerful dividends later.

I’m grateful for a mentor who didn’t coddle me, who taught me that first ideas are not our best ideas, it’s just one way to do it. And then graciously extended a hand as if to say – let’s improve on that thinking. Let’s keep climbing.

We need more of that right now in all walks of work and life.

I’m renewing my commitment to taking the often harder, but always more productive path.

It’s a process, one that a right-brainer learned from a patient, left-brained mentor. The path is wider than you might imagine and relatively uncrowded — if you’re inclined to join me.

photo credit: Pawel Chu

ON WRITING: The long, lonesome, and difficult road to meaningful connection

Writing is a “what-have-you-produced-for-me-lately” endeavor.

Last week’s words are gone, buried in the feed-heap and trash bin of email boxes.

And then come the daunting words like clockwork — “What’s next? Where’s your copy?”

For writers, churning out “content” in emails, blogs, and social posts, might not feel like meaningful writing, as too often it is a disposable byproduct of the craft. So little of what gets written has staying power beyond the moment.

It’s enough to make some writers feel as though their words don’t matter.

I know that feeling. I also know it’s a lie.

In all my years of writing for clients, only a tiny portion of my work still exists in its original form. Writing for business and brands has always been about the new and next idea. It’s about pivoting and evolving and the requisite attraction needed to validate those ideas. Writers have to accept and embrace this reality, especially in an age where anyone — or trained AI — can string together words and sentences.

Everyone has the capability to write.

Writers don’t have unique access to a special skill.

But that doesn’t make writing easy.

Committed writers also understand that:

• Good writing is hard.

• Good writing (and editing) takes time.

• Good writing often goes unnoticed or underappreciated.

• Good writing might even take years to reach its audience as intended.

• Good writing has potential to change/improve/elevate anything and everything.

The book(s) that almost never happened

This week, a small book of tiny stories I wrote finally came to life. My publisher accepted the manuscript in 2018 – nearly 6 years ago. A series of unexpected events prevented it from arriving sooner.

But that’s nothing compared to some of the pieces inside the front and back cover. In fact, the first piece was published 19 years ago – in 2004 through a university-based literary journal.

But it wasn’t merely content that was created. These pieces were not about marketing an idea and expecting unrealistic book sales.

It was about plumbing the depths of the human condition. Something that wasn’t disposable (something that, perhaps drives book sales over time).

That is what every writer wants to create — for themselves and for you.

My encouragement / challenge for you

If you work with, manage, or hire writers on your team — I encourage you to validate them and their effort to craft carefully chosen words. Writing can be a lonely, isolating craft. Without constructive criticism and positive feedback, writers can wither (this is equally true for all creatives, any employee).

If you know a writer — ask to read their words (it will mean the world to them, even if you don’t love what they wrote).

If you are a writer — keep writing. As writers, we stick with it because we are compelled to write. With that compulsion, that drive to get better, to resonate, and to say something in a way that only you can say it is both a gift and privilege. Give it all the time it needs, which also includes the slow arrival of validation.

Luckily for me, someone took notice of my words.

I mean, really noticed.

Not just metrics, or page visits, or eyeballs, or likes.

They read it, absorbed it — and it resonated.

(hint: that’s the winning formula for brands, too).

The Fruit of Encouragement

My publisher said — "I like this. This is good. It deserves a wider audience." (Thank you, Gloria Mindock). She validated the work decades after I began leaning into this writing life.

Unbeknownst to her, those words of acceptance and validation energized more creative work to come.

Between acceptance and the arrival of This Side of Utopia this week, I’ve had two other small books published, drafted another, and have multiple concepts in the works.

That validation was like tapping a gushing well of creativity.

(BONUS: she even chose one of my paintings for the cover art)

There’s a point where many writers are ready to give up — whether they’re working for brands or striving to get their words published by other means. And if their work is the kind of writing that simply pays the bills, their creative spark can fade to the point of simply churning more bland content to swim upstream toward a sea of sameness.

Without the encouragement to persevere, to play the long game, and to dig deeper…

too many great things go unwritten.

Chances are you have an exceptionally good writer in your orbit who is burning out, feeling hopeless, and wondering if their words matter.

Tell them that they do — and stick around to see what happens next (even if it takes a while).

***

And, if short, quirky stories* about navigating this life are your jam, you can find this little book online via Bookshop.org, Barnes & Noble, and Amazon. You can link to my writing/painting website to access each title.

*Yes, technically these are poems... written in accessible and understandable language in attempt to dispel what the modern reader thinks of poetry (e.g., poetry for people who don’t think they like poetry). In the age of shrinking attention spans, they just might be what's needed. Timing is everything.

Photo credit: Bethany Legg via unsplash

Everyone wants creativity & innovation; few have the required patience

Photo credit: Duane Mendes via unsplash

I read a sponsored headline on LinkedIn recently that said – The Opposite of Inconvenience Is Innovation.

(Not quite true and it resonates as an AI headline, but I’ll withhold judgment).

Then you had to “unlock” their gated, six-carousel slide deck to understand their point.

To that I’d say: unlocking gated material on LinkedIn is the opposite of convenient.

Fellow creative and copywriter Mike Roe recently shared an article on the death of creativity. I was drawn to a particular claim about the near-uselessness of three-fourths of the brands paraded in front of us, and how we wouldn’t miss them if they disappeared.

Think about that: the vast majority of companies/brands are easily forgotten, including yours.

The premise here is that we’ve killed creativity — meaning we aren’t creating anything memorable — in lieu of being efficient with time and speed at the lowest possible cost.

That, friends, is how we end up with headlines and campaigns promoting products like the one above. And it is also how they falter because they fail to entice, and in turn expect something from us long before earning our trust.

What might’ve enticed me to open this sponsored campaign and discover their offering? Simple:

1.       Don’t lock your content on LinkedIn (be generous, be a thought sharer)

2.       Entice us with stories/snippets that will resonate, something like…

Opportunities are created more than they are granted.

Your team keeps looking for opportunities, but when was the last time you granted them time to create something that turned heads? Got people talking? Shook the industry?

Here’s the rub: creating takes time. This can feel wildly inconvenient. It is far from instantaneous. But it is worth it. Just ask the computer maker not named Dell, or Gateway, or Compaq, who put a jukebox in the palm of your hand, and gave you a phone that still functioned like a phone, but became your essential life assistant.

Innovation isn’t doing what you know how to do a little differently. That’s called chasing the market leader. And, whoa, talk about inconvenient.

Remember — you have a choice: to either keep looking for opportunities — or start creating them.

To be fair, maybe this was the same kind of sponsored content the company gated, offering me to dive deeper into their offering, their own unique solution.

But I’ll never know – because I wasn’t compelled to look.

Think of it this way:

How many times has your audience been dismissive or not compelled to look because the creative was rushed, roadblocks to engagement we intentionally set for the sake of data, and meeting the artificial deadline prevailed over doing the best possible work with a better chance of resonating? Have any of us ever been guilty of such a thing?

When we rush creativity (the very thing that leads to innovative ideas) we take away the power of its potential.

We’ve been conditioned to “box it up” and promise what it will do in terms of metrics, sales, and how it measures up on spreadsheet – literally putting it in a box. When we do this, we have succumbed to the antithesis of creativity. Everything begins to look the same. No wonder three-fourths of brands are forgettable.

We neuter creativity before it has a chance do its intended thing – which is to wow people, stop them in their tracks, and get them talking.

And yet that is precisely what every company says it’s pursuing, but typically with poor copy that falls on deaf ears.

Bigger. Better. Faster. More. Focus on the one that matters.

Every growth-minded organization’s aspirational and unsustainable spreadsheet dream.

Most people can sniff out the BBFM thread of language for what it really is:

• False or misleading marketing claims.

• Running to the beat of the corporate drum (which is typically the opposite of disruption and, in turn, true innovation).

• Unchecked hubris born of previous success.

• An undisciplined and insatiable desire for more.  

 (Those last two are part of the five stages of decline that Jim Collins outlined in his lesser-quoted book HOW THE MIGHTY FAIL)

Yet it doesn’t prevent businesses from believing in the false promises of this mantra. In time, and always sooner than desired, this will happen:

• Bigger becomes bloated.

• Faster needs to increase its speed.

• Yesterday’s version of more is not enough.

• Better is subjective and becomes a point of contention.

If we can sniff this out as consumers, then why is it that we, as businesspeople and leaders, apply this same misguided thinking and bake it into our systems and processes?

We know that bigger isn’t intuitively or explicitly better.

Faster doesn’t guarantee greater efficiency or effectiveness.

And more gets you more of everything – the bad along with any good.

Better is the only meaningful pursuit on this list.

Better, when articulated what it entails and how you’ll achieve it, will present nuanced versions of more that you, as a leader, get to decide if the pursuit is worthy of the effort.

And while better might remain subjective to the end customer, you get to define the terms of what better means to your organization.

It will be discovered in the metrics, the anecdotal, the company culture, as well as the hard to quantify.

It will be in the ability to recruit and the ability to retain your best people.

It will be proven over the long term. Not last quarter or next quarter.

It will reveal itself in a loyal base of customers, suppliers, and partners.

Better has a purpose. It has a definitive feel.

The pursuit of better is ongoing, just like business itself.

It will be written (literally) in your company’s DNA.

And you will know when you are going astray.

Because all of us want – and are looking for – better.

We’ll all take the upticks of bigger and more as they come (and inevitably go).

Which is why our aspiration should be to laser-focused on better.

Better is achievable, measurable, sustainable, and profitable…

as long as we aren’t derailed by short-term, fleeting promises of bigger, faster, and more.

READING OLD NOTES: gaining insight through reflection

I keep a stack of moleskine notebooks and serviceable knock-offs on a bookshelf in my writing studio. They are filled with meeting notes, doodles, writing prompts, sketches, and lists of peculiar word pairings that I imagine using in future pieces. There’s also some wise advice I’ve picked up and scribbled into the margins during this work-and-life journey.

I admit that once these notebooks are filled, I rarely pick them up or thumb through them again.

That is until recently.

I had been feeling anxious about a writing assignment and a personal project. I was struggling to start, to finish, to find the right words. They weren’t coming. More than writer’s block, it was a questioning of my abilities to perform my core work.

So I began thumbing through old words. Past projects. Thing that at one time seemed daunting. Things that felt important to commit to paper.

I wasn’t looking for anything particular. I was simply revisiting and reflecting on past experiences and old ideas.

And it made me stop and think: why is it that we scan old photo albums (or file folders) with a sense of wonder and excitement? Why does Facebook send us anniversary milestones of friendships? Why do we painstakingly curate playlists in Spotify from the 80s or 90s when there’s so much new music across any genre for us to enjoy? Why do we show up and honor, in our own special way, those whom we’ve lost?

Because we need to be reminded.

Reminded of what’s important and what matters;

what we’re striving for and what keeps us in the game;

what gives us life and purpose, hope and joy.

Looking for the right words and answers continues to be an imperfect and ongoing search. If not now, then assuredly later. And you, I’m assuming, will have your own specific search that demands resolving – from the mundane to the monumental challenges.  

As I thumbed through some old notes, I found some words of advice and inspiration, and a few that served as a kick in the pants to keep going, to pick ourselves up, to get better, and to never stop.

In some cases it was as if I was reading these points for the first time. For others, I had a different perspective thanks to the experiences I’ve has since I first scrawled the words.

Maybe these words – forgotten and tucked away in a notebook on a shelf, from writers, creators and, more importantly, doers – are exactly what I need to reflect on when the load feels heavy. And maybe you, too. Maybe these words needed some light thrown back on them to push us forward. Perhaps new eyes on these once-written, spoken and acted-upon words can breathe new life into whatever it is we need to do but haven’t.

I hope they are helpful, encouraging, or a kick in the pants. If they are, then write them down. Put them in a notebook. Add to them. And consider revisiting them from time to time.

Traveler, there is no road;

you make your own path as you walk.

As you walk, you make your own road,

and when you look back you see the path

you will never travel again.

– Antonio Machado // poet

“How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.”

– Annie Dillard // writer

“When we are merely competent, the value of our work is diminished until it can eventually be outsourced to the lowest bidder – making us a dispensable commodity.” (Don’t be merely competent. Be unmistakable.)

– Srinivas Rao // business author, podcaster

CRITICIZING IS EASIER THAN CREATING.

(shut up and get to work.)

“The trouble with comparing yourself to others is that there are too many others. Using all others as your control group, all your worst fears and your fondest hopes are at once true. You are good; you are bad; you are abnormal; you are just like everyone else.”

– Sarah Manguso // poet

“Emotion before evidence. Otherwise data will kill a good story on contact.”

– Todd Henry // writer, creativity consultant

“Keep being curious. Keep being a student.

As soon as you stop doing that, as soon as you stop playing,

you stop creating great things.”

 – Matthew Luhn // writer, Pixar Animation Studios

At the end of my suffering, there was a door.

– Louise Glück // poet

“If you listen to everyone, you will lose yourself.

You were hired for your expertise. Deliver that.”

– Ruth Carter // costume designer for Black Panther

But what if I’m not a real writer/artist/entrepreneur/etc.? Just sit down and do it.

What if my idea isn’t any good? Just try. Do it anyway.

What if nobody sees it? It’s not about who sees it, it’s about why you did it.

What if I’m stuck? When you’re at an edge, push through it.

What if this was a gigantic waste of time? Trust that it won’t be.

 – Allison Fallon // writer, coach, adapted from perspectives on writing

DARE. MIGHTY. THINGS.

Then do the work to achieve those things.