I just took our buddy, Bruer, to the Dublin/Pleasanton BART train station so he can head back to his condo in The Region. Great stay. As always. Once again, he didn’t get a true “California” stay. On the first visit, he got to witness our private, legal wedding ceremony. On the second visit he only got to stay a few days before he had business to get to. This time, we spent most of it on the Oregon Coast, which is still very-beyond awesome, but he still hasn’t yet had a trip that was “Californian” in intent and nature. That said, backroading the Oregon countryside and spending a good share of the drive on the 101 was something-you-don’t-see-everyday incredible.
During these trips, a lot of our discussions turn to tech, business, and tech business (yes, they’re all three very different topics). We talk about our endeavors, our processes, and support each other. We get critical of each other, and others listening might think we’re fighting, but the last things our respective projects need is sunshine up their asses, distorting their true value and work ahead.
Often times, a heavy dose of reality is needed to get me out of what I’ve convinced myself is a “good place,” and towards what my goals originally were.
Thank you, Odysseus.
I described to Bruer the content work we had ahead of us and how I was trying to make sure I was getting the most bang for my buck. ‘Trying to follow Bruce Pandolfini’s nearly-unarguable #1 commandment of chess:
“Make sure every move have a purpose.”
We started talking about other like-content projects he’s seen and I was telling him that while he had gone walkabout down the Oregon coast on Sunday, I spent the day drafting out content schedules and getting writing going. I told him that the post I wrote describing how I’ll go about my content schedules was scheduled for release on this site today but I changed a word of text after Katie had made a beautiful Pinterest image for it and she couldn’t get the edit done until tonight. So, I backed up publishing it.
Right then he pointed out that I have a tendency to hold everything up on an “inessential” detail.
We argued…debated whether or not the detail was “inessential,” but his point hit home: I do try to make things too perfect before diving in.
I do that a lot. I’ll hold up everything to get one out-of-place detail just-so. I try to justify that it’s a “leave the flock to find the missing sheep,” moment, and sometimes it’s true, but the truth is probably more closely related to the fact that I don’t like being embarrassed by feeling like I don’t have a professional effort on something before submitting it. In my defense, audiences look to make sure there’s seamless symmetry in presentation and delivery, but in the aggregate he was right. Once again, both the marketer and programmer were right, from their points of view.
Experts back his point up.
I’ve read Godin’s idea of getting to the point where work has to ship and that that effort was your best work (I think it’s in his book, Linchpin). I’ve heard Brogan say 100 times in his go-to, seemingly ”Quick, I need a topic” podcasts about how little editing he ends up doing before publishing a blog post. Then there’s me: 7 years later and I have 1/5th the content up on this site that should be done.
- Content Schedule needs finishing
- Categories need content
I pointed out that there are blemishes and then there are projects with enough work that it’s “not ready for primetime.” He agreed, and agreed that while BiziPorts is (somewhat ) close but isn’t quite ready for primetime, my personal site is ready to be used.
Either way, we agreed it’s time to finish (start) branding myself
No matter what, my career depends on branding. Them books of blues won’t see the light of a traditional publishing day without a web presence to back it up. And, personal-branding will help with BiziPorts, my writing, and everything I work on going forward. Hell, if I do it right, the branding will help whatever family Katie and I are lucky enough to be able to create – momentum outside of the infamy my father could only leave behind.
“Nothing Has to Be ‘Perfect’ Perfect.”
Some ugly-ass sites seem to do well. Check out some of these links:
I might never have seen an uglier, yet more successful site than StevePavlina.com. Katie still reads it a lot yet I can’t get past the ugly green back ground and blue header on like a WordPress v. 1 template. It’s like it was used to catch the overspray for the painters of the Seattle Seahawks’ helmet, then it was left in the rain for 10 years where it withered and faded.
Seriously. If I like what I read in it, I’ll copy and paste it into Google Docs and change the size and font just to save my eyes from wanting to melt as if they’re a sinner gazing upon the Ark of the Covenant.
Not only that, Pavlina writes more content per post than most anyone I’ve read, myself included (shut up, you).
He pretty much breaks every blogging rule, and yet, there it is in its revenue-making glory and splendor. It’s further proof that most blogging etiquette is more like guidelines written for each other and not their audience.
Case and point, his argumment on content consumption is one of the reason’s we’re working on giving up TV.
This might be the last blog left on TypePad.
Thank you. I know it’s not true. Mostly.
The font is small and hard to read, and he hasn’t changed the design since, I think, ever. I also think those social share buttons have since been donated to the Salvation Army. But, shit, it’s Seth Godin’s blog. You just tip your cap at his success due, in part, to it.
And, yes, Space Jam’s movie website is historically bad
Dead horse. Poor horse. Not really in the mood to pick the bones off viral dogfood that was intended to to be revolutionary over 13 applications of Moore’s Law ago.
Yes. It was left-justified.
Sometimes, you have to go ugly to keep from staying home.
Featured photo (aka – the first one by the title) credit: gratisography.com. Visit. Buy him coffee!
PS: I apologize for subjecting your eyes to hideous designs.
Here. Wash them out with a bit of video Bruer & I took of the first parasailer we saw taking off over the Pacific Ocean at Cape Lookout State Park, Netarts Bay, OR. Oh, the things you see on back roads.