Wednesday, 12:36pm
Reno, NV
“Sittin’ on the dock of the bay, watchin’ the tide roll away…” (Otis Redding)

Howdy…

Mark, a lifelong pal of mine, lived with a girlfriend many years ago who taught us both a very devastating lesson.

At the time, Mark and I were hard-core slackers — lamely cruising through our late twenties, we took jobs without ambition to pay the rent and keep the fridge stocked with beer, and were pretty much maintaining the same lifestyles we’d had in college.

Care-free losers, if you need a label.

Susie, on the other hand, was roiling with ambition. Had a good job, with a plan to either rise quickly in that biz or seek better positions elsewhere. Her friends talked about the future a lot, and openly competed with each other over acquisitions like new cars, new clothes, expensive wine and all the grown-up Yuppie shit that sent shivers down my spine.

Cuz I was still going to clubs to see bands (and who can blame me, since it was that primo era when the Pretenders, the Police, Elvis Costello, the Jam, and Talking Heads were on their first west-coast tours)… still driving a 10-year-old decrepit Datsun truck… still dressing like I’d been shopping drunk at the Goodwill store… and still loathing the idea of “growing up”.

I knew something was wrong, of course. I was just floating on the surface of life, at the mercy of other people’s ambitions and without any goals or dreams or sense of purpose.

And I absorbed a lot of harsh criticism, both from others and from myself, for not doing anything constructive with my life.

However, looking back, I see things very differently now.

Yes, I was a slacker. But, while I was admittedly not doing a single goddamned thing to prepare myself for living out the American “dream” (house, career, family, etc)…

… I was, nevertheless, honing a particular strange skill that has served me extremely well over the ensuing years.

I was becoming an expert at ruminating. Pondering shit. Noodling over difficult thoughts.

I wasn’t smarter than the evil Yuppies around me. Far from it.

And, eventually, I too would learn to lust after material things that made my heart happy.

Just not the same things those smug elitists lusted after.

Because what I craved most of all… was time.

Time to read more books, listen to more music, indulge in more pleasure…

… and time to stare at the wall and go deep inside my own head. Ruminating on shit.

Silly me.

Here’s the cruel lesson Susie delivered: One evening, she admitted she despised me…

… because I helped Mark feel like he wasn’t alone with his own wall-staring.

And it was high time that he moved beyond that “thinking crap”, and got busy building a life worthy of her Yupped-out aspirations.

I was stunned. Not because she wanted to morph my pal into her own Ken doll — that goal of hers had been obvious for a long time.

No. I was stunned… because I truly believed that thinking deeply about things… even random things like how Power Pop had sprung from the ashes of punk rock, and how it all connected seamlessly back to mid-60s garage bands and the Beatnik philosophies that survived the hippie holocaust and…

Okay, you get the idea. I also thought a lot about “what’s it all mean” mind-expansion stuff, and where American literature was headed and how the endless Cold War was affecting local politics, and all the blossoming parallels between the post-WWI nihilistic Da-Da movement and the impending technology revolution (that would not be televised) and on and on.

So, yeah, I was a lazy, good-for-nothing slacker, restlessly pillaging the edges of the culture and irritating the Yuppies…

… but really? “Thinking” was now a bad thing?

It was with Susie. She was whip-smart, and full of energy and life-force…

… but for her (and her ilk), the definition of “success” had nothing to do with having more “time” to spend staring at walls, ruminating.

I’d just assumed that was everybody’s wild-ass dream.

And it scared the shit out of me to abruptly realize that most of the folks around me considered it a profound waste of time. And even highly distasteful, cuz it ruined the vibe when they wanted to discuss wine or stock market tips or country club memberships.

Yep. I was the shallow one.

How dare I suggest that living life using only the outer edges of your cerebral cortex was a hollow way to exist.

Older, maybe wiser, certainly more experienced now…

… I still get royally pissed-off remembering how much Susie’s “set me straight” lecture harshed my mellow for the next few years.

Of course, I also have to thank her, from the bottom of my heart, for shaking me up like that.

Because I struggled with that potential lesson for a very long time. Was ruminating on stuff really a waste for anyone wanting to get ahead? Was it really better to just get jiggy with the accepted lifestyle and Zeitgeist of the time… which, heading into the Go-Go Eighties, was quickly evolving into Gordon Gecko’s “greed is good” ethos.

I liked staring at the wall (or at the waves, or the clouds, or a blank piece of paper), disappearing into my head and… ruminating on things.

And being able to do more of it seemed an excellent element of a “successful” life. You know, maybe like what Aristotle (or was it Socrates) said about “the examined life.”

Today, I’m more convinced than ever that it is THE main reason to succeed.

I never saw Susie again (she soon left Mark for a hedge fund manager), but I did eventually became a hard-core capitalist-oriented entrepreneur, got my shit together, and started being aggressively proactive about setting and achieving goals. A true American rags-to-riches tale, and I’m proud of it.

But I never had the notion that simply “being” successful was part of a successful life.

In my view, you don’t need money to be successful. Money just solves the problems that not having money creates… so having “enough” money, in this culture, can help you stay clear of the time-consuming bullshit of scrambling to keep a roof over your head and food in your gut.

Massive wealth has the capacity to really screw you up. Of course, it’s more fun to discover that on your own, rather than taking anyone else’s word for it…

… but it’s still true.

The reason for this is kinda mystical, but easy to fathom: If you aren’t clear on WHY you want to get rich…

… then, once you get there, you’re gonna be one lost little puppy.

It’s like mobilizing your life to move somewhere you think will make you happy. You can do it, and you can wind up in a gorgeous penthouse in the best part of town… but if your next thought is “now what?”, then you may be left wondering what it all means. With no answer forthcoming.

The reason I connected so easily with early mentors like Gary Halbert was because we shared a fundamental desire: We loved to work hard, and we loved to be rewarded for that hard work with piles of moolah…

… however, the REAL reward was always the sheer luxury of “buying time”. Using money to hire assistants, job-out the grunt work, grease palms, skip lines and generally shortcut our way around the time-sucking parts of life.

Not so we’d have more time to work. No way.

So we’d have more time to indulge in the one thing a busy, harried life refuses to allow: Rumination.

There are tons of books and coaching programs and seminars available that claim to make planning out your life easy. They’ll help you with the “here’s what I want to do“, and “here’s how I can get that done” processes…

… but every single one I’ve seen is woefully deficient in helping you understand “WHY I want to do that in the first place.”

The “why’s” of life are mostly ignored. It’s taken for granted that big houses, fancy sports cars, better looking spouses, bigger/better/nicer/more expensive everything is of COURSE the preferred goal.

And maybe that’s true for you.

I will tell you it is NOT true for the majority of friends and colleagues I’m closest to. I’m closest to them because we are simpatico about what really matters in life.

And you don’t automatically figure out what matters, for you…

… unless you spend some serious time thinking about it. Pondering. Brooding. Daydreaming. Cogitating.

Ruminating.

Staring at the wall and diving into the cerebral gray matter.

Halbert was a great ruminator. I knew I’d found a lasting friend when we first took a long drive together, and after talking for a while, we both just got quiet and thought about things. Total silence in the car, as I drove us around Los Angeles and up the coast a bit.

And when we started talking again, it was rife with substance.

One of my pet peeves is meeting people who lived through something exciting…

… and don’t have a good story to tell about it.

They’ll grin and say “you had to be there“, because it was all so experiential and amazing and kinesthetic.

And I say “Bullshit“. I lived through similar adventures, and I can burn your ears with detailed stories about it… stories that have a point, that are interesting and thought-provoking and give the listener an almost visceral sense of what it was like.

But you can’t build these kinds of stories without thinking about it first. Without sitting back, going over the facts and emotions and unknown pieces, and finding the theme and plot and punch line. It doesn’t happen automatically, just because you were “there”.

Sitting back in a comfy chair — well-fed, content, undisturbed and undistracted — and letting your mind wander and explore and organize your thoughts, experiences and dreams…

… is, for me, a wondrous thing.

For the most part, our ancestors had few such pleasures, always needing to tend the fire, hunt for food, repair essentials, repel danger, and stay alert and focused for as long as possible before dropping into an exhausted slumber.

Success can buy you the time, free of want or disruption.

Don’t have anything to ruminate about?

Dude, you’re living through the most awesome times humans have ever encountered. There are endless options for adventure and fulfillment and legacy…

… and really freakin’ easy ways to attain whatever you desire, once you get your shit together.

You can set, plan for, and attain goals that your ancestors couldn’t even conceive of.

You can get what you want.

The thing is…

… WHY do you want it?

Refusing to consider this is a recipe for disaster. Wealth, fame and acquisitions can kill you just as quickly as saber-tooth tigers, Viking raids and a rumble for the crown.

Getting something doesn’t mean you’ll know what to do with it when you have it.

This all takes rumination.

Think about it.

Stay frosty,

John

Friday, 12:26pm
Phoenix, AZ
“Been there, done that…”

Howdy.

I am, today, resurrecting a post from a very long time ago…

… because the subject matter just won’t die. Like a zombie, it just keeps getting back up and stumbling forward to irritate and annoy me.

So let’s file this under “Necessary Reminders If You Wanna Get Rich“…

… cuz it’s one of those fundamental lessons for anyone who got into business to create wealth.

As opposed to, say, getting into business just to have something to do during the day.

Every successful entrepreneur will tell you the foundation of their wealth comes from paying attention to the fundamentals. The wild-and-crazy ideas are fun, the vows to take over the world make you feel awesome, and gorging on fresh technology is invigorating.

But you won’t earn a dime off any of it without knowing the nuts-and-bolts part of putting ideas, vows and tech into action.

Just like being really, really, really eager to demolish your opponent in a cage fight will get you killed if you don’t have the fundamentals down of hitting and getting hit.

Enthusiasm is great. Skills and knowledge are how shit gets done, however.

Here’s that zombie post. Enjoy:

I tell rookies to never, ever assume anything about anything. Ever.

Especially about your target audience. One of the biggest mistakes marketers make is to assume your prospect knows as much as you do about whatever it is you’re selling.

And it’s almost never true. You’re dealing with your product/biz/service day in and day out, and you’ve dealt with the details so often, it’s all second-nature to you.

But your prospect isn’t working in your office. Even if he’s in the same general market as you, he has other priorities. He may desperately need what you offer… but that doesn’t mean he’s researched you and your product as thoroughly as you might have, in his shoes.

If you assume he understands all the technical jargon and insider terms you’re laying on thick, you stand a good chance of losing him. Even when I’m dealing with rabid markets — like golf or guitar playing or cigar smoking — I use jargon sparingly, for emphasis.

Like adding spice for flavor — don’t overdo it.

That’s why it’s important to “translate” everything into plain English in your copy… even if you would swear on a stack of Bibles that “everyone knows what this means”. This is especially true when you’re slinging slang around.

I have to watch the assumption thing, myself. Constantly.

For example: When someone books an hour’s phone consultation with me, I assume they prepare. At least a little, teeny-tiny bit.

My hours aren’t cheap, and often it’s tough to squeeze the consultations into my schedule. It’s not like a friendly chat with the guy down the hall. When your hour’s up, it’s up.

And it goes by fast.

So, I’m always baffled when the guy on the other end of the line starts arguing with me about something basic.

Especially the stuff I assume he must know, or he wouldn’t be asking me for advice.

I assume, for example, that he would have at least glanced at the “Kick-Ass Copywriting Secrets” course first. You know, to sort of get an idea of where I’d be coming from.

Silly me.

The most recent consultation I had started out fine… but five minutes into it, I found myself in a heated argument about whether long copy really works in online ads or not.

I thought, okay… you wanna waste half the call going over one of the very FIRST and most OBVIOUS parts of what I discuss in my materials… and what EVERY top marketer knows, from experience and testing… fine.

Fine.

It’s good practice for me to go over the argument. Again.

But really, man. There are cheaper ways than a full-on consultation with me to learn one the FUNDAMENTALS of advertising-that-works.

Here’s a FREE explanation, in fact. Just in case you’re one of those guys who looks at top-grossing entrepreneurial sites, and wonders “do people really read all that copy?”.

Stop and think for a second.

We don’t use long copy for our sales pitches because we enjoy slaving over the keyboard.

No. We use long copy in our marketing…

… because that’s what WORKS.

In essence, your copy is your salesman. Face-to-face, he has to cover the entire sales message to make the cash register go ka-ching – cover all the benefits, explain all the features, establish credibility, and make a case for money trading hands, right now while the iron’s hot.

You wouldn’t tell your salesman to only use 100 words, and then clam up, would you? (Go back to the end of the line if you said “why not?”)

Your copy is your sales pitch. It’s long, because great sales pitches are long. You’re asking someone to part with money… and online, they can’t see your product, can’t hold it, can’t smell it… in fact, they have to take your word for everything.

Or rather, your words. And your words must convince, persuade, influence and close the deal…

… or you don’t make the sale.

That’s why the top marketers all use long copy.

“But,” says this Doubting Thomas on the horn, “There are a lot of people out there who insist that short copy is better.”

Oh, really? Like who?

“Lots of people.”

Nobody who’s making any money, I tell him. Does your competition use long copy?

“Yeah.”

And how are your ads pulling, compared to theirs?

“They’re creaming us.”

Soooooooo… how’s short copy working out for you, then?

That line is a favorite of folksy therapists. Someone explains how they’re sleeping with their brother’s wife, cooking up crank in the bathroom for extra cash, and getting in bar fights as a hobby.

And the therapist sighs and says: “So, how’s that working out for you?”

Humans are a stubborn bunch. All of us. We all have huge blind spots about certain things we do.

In marketing, it’s pretty simple, though, to know when your beligerence is unjustified: Look at your results.

If your bottom line isn’t what you know it should be… then you’re doing something wrong.

It ain’t working so hot for you.

You cannot argue your way to wealth in the open marketplace.

You gotta make your case, and do a good sales job. Everything else is just pissing in the wind.

Do what works. Get hip, to get rich.

And stay frosty.

John Carlton

P.S. If you insist on needing to air out this argument in the comments section, have at it.

I’ll be checking in. Let’s get this fundamental nailed down, okay?

P.P.S. By the way…

… I just slashed the price for a fresh, hot-off-the-presses copy of “Kick-Ass Copywriting Secrets of a Marketing Rebel”. For years it’s been hundreds of bucks (as was $299 as recently as yesterday)…

… but now it’s just $99. For the course that fundamentally transformed how even rookie entrepreneurs can create marketing that works like crazy. Every Big Dog marketer you know about in the online entrepreneurial world has this course on their shelves, recommends it to their followers… and many got their start through the specific techniques and proven tactics outlined in it.

If you don’t own it yet, get it here: “Kick-Ass Copywriting Secrets of a Marketing Rebel”.

It is very much NOT just about copywriting. To understand the mojo of great copywriting, you must understand the sheer power of classic salesmanship and result-oriented marketing…

… which means this course is a one-stop starting point point for anyone needing to get their entire marketing efforts into action.

Fast.

Armed with all the persuasive power of good old-fashioned salesmanship.

Exactly as I used it for my entire career. To make clients insanely wealthy, and to plump up my own bottom-line for my own business advventures.

Seriously — if anything I’ve told you over the years in this blog has hit a chord with you…

… then you’re ready to dive deep into the world of real success.

And it starts here. With a copy of the classic course “Kick-Ass Copywriting Secrets of a Marketing Rebel.”

Now available for the lowest price I’ve ever offered.

It’s time to get this essential tool for success into the hands of as many folks as possible again. Get it, devour it, use it.

This package, by the way, arrives with both the written course and the CDs of me walking you through everything. Time-tested stuff, easily the single most important resource you can own if you’re serious about making your biz work.

Okay, mini-rant over. Just go grab the course, will ya?

Thursday, 1:29pm
Reno, NV
“What this requires is a really stupid and futile gesture on someone’s part.” (Otter, “Animal House” pre-climactic scene)

Howdy…

Do you ever have the vague feeling that everyone around you is enjoying life more than you…

… or has their act together real tight, while you struggle and wake up in the middle of the night fussing over problems?

This is actually part of our default machinery as humans. Personally, I grew up as a kid believing that everyone was hiding the secrets of a happy life from me… they knew these secrets, and were smug about knowing and enjoying them. While I was left to desperate measures, trying to figure out each fresh pitfall and obstacle on my own.

If I could only catch a clue about what everyone else was thinking as they so smoothly navigated life, the secrets of eternal happiness and contentment would surely bloom for me.

My first big revelation as a teenager arrived like a bolt of lightning: After putting together a few clues…

… I abruptly realized that most people weren’t hiding secret thoughts from me at all.

They actually didn’t have a single coherent thought in their skulls.

And something snapped inside. I immediately began to question authority figures, who I had previously just accepted as superior beings. I got expelled for a few days because I refused to cut my hair (this was back when dress codes dictated every detail of your appearance)…

… I made both my English and trig teachers cry in frustration to my fresh “oh, cut the bullshit” attitude…

… a visiting state senator got so flustered at my refusal to accept his pat answers to hard questions (this was during the huge military build-up in Vietnam) that he mumbled something about my “permanent record” being soiled…

… and I nearly didn’t graduate after challenging the track coach’s authority to tell me how to live right (again involving my freaking hair length).

I was having my first mid-life crisis, at the ripe old age of 17.

I eventually calmed down (a bit)… but that glimpse of the reality of who I was sharing space on the planet with never became less valuable.

I’m not putting people down here. I’ll let my long history as a passionate and generous teacher speak for my love of my fellow humans.

However, this was my first taste of looking at life critically, and not accepting either “common sense” or shared belief systems at face value. There are good sides to this, and bad — I respected the brilliance and skills of the exceptional folks around me more… and boldly examined, without apology, the motives and personal issues of the “little Hitlers” who abused powerful positions (or just liked to fuck with people).

Trouble and adventure followed, and I wouldn’t change any of it. I felt awake, aware and open to all opportunities, unfettered by other’s ideas on how I should live.

All of this was also a tremendous advantage in my early career as a freelance copywriter, of course. It truly helps to know who’s got mojo, and who’s faking it for ulterior purposes, amongst your clients, prospects, customers and colleagues.

However… I want to talk about the process of mid-life crisis right now.

Cuz it’s an art form.

I figure I’ve had five or six major mid-life crises at this point…

… and I’ve enjoyed every damn one of ‘em. They’re highlights in my life.

I was lucky, I guess, to have the first one before I knew what they were. Probably a better definition would be something about encountering a fork in your path, and choosing to take one road over the other. Often with nothing more than a vague sense of why you’re making the decision.

With the caveat that — for many — the risks of choosing create so much internal commotion that you freeze up. You allow inaction to win, and continue breathing and waking up each day full of resentment and questions about “what it all means” and shame over never achieving your dreams.

But that’s a mouthful.  ”Mid-life crisis” has always communicated the same thing to me.

It’s regarded mostly as a joke in our culture. The cartoon image is of a struggling-to-be-cool guy with a comb-over and a beer gut in a flashy sports car trying to impress the chicks…

… and being laughed at. “Just settle down, Mr Mid-Life Crisis,” society says. “You look ridiculous. Go home and clean out the gutters.”

This attitude is as mis-guided as most of society’s views about the big events in life. If you haven’t lost someone close to you, for example, be prepared to enter a world of medical/legal/detail hell as you deal with your grief, and try to move on. Lotta wolves out there, and because you are unprepared (both emotionally, and tactically, because society refuses to look at death realistically) you can easily be shell-shocked prey.

And I just read some anecdotes on young folks getting married today (from a shrink’s blog)… where something like 70% of the soon-to-be-hitched believe they’ll get divorced. True or not, the stats on divorce are shocking…

… not for the damage it does to families, but for the utter disregard of “vows”. When the culture just shrugs at people routinely violating their “word”, trust flutters away like dust in the wind.

And on and on.

The thing is, our culture largely exists on a surface layer. Bopped to and fro like flotsam on the ocean’s tides, without clue or direction or purpose. Or honor.

This is why professional writers stand out among the business crowd: To be able to sell effectively, you must look at life and culture and reality not as you wish it was… and not as you feel it ought to be…

… but rather, you see life as it IS. The harsh truth, the deeper nuances, the entire range of dissonance, hypocrisy and absurdity that comes with being human in a concrete jungle.

I like to say that good salesmen lead better lives…

… because, for me, living with eyes shut is sleep walking. And I prefer to be self-aware, and tuned into the meta-reality around me (as much as I can with our pitiful tools of sense and cognition).

If you strive to be a true professional, worthy of the title, then you cannot live your life slackly. You can’t communicate well, you can’t persuade, and you can’t sell as flotsam.

You are ONLY as good as your word… regardless of how little the rest of the planet cares about vows.

You MEET your fucking deadlines, in other words, and you do your best work no matter how much you’re getting paid (or how small your client is).

For most writers, this kind of commitment comes only after a transformative revelation. A “duh!” moment, where you finally realize you can’t use your friends and family as role models anymore. They will resent you for starting to arrive on time, stick to schedules, and beg off from fun when you have a deadline to meet.

Your success will irritate the hell out of everyone, because you obliterate the standard excuses (“You can’t win against The Man”… “The little guy doesn’t stand a chance”… “It’s hopeless to even try winning at biz”… and so on). No one likes to have their excuses obliterated.

My third mid-life crisis arrived as the sudden realization that — as a 30-year-old slacker — my life was never gonna change unless I did something to change it.

It was like a cleaver separating my former life (beatnik partier wannabe-writer) from the sparkling new adventure spreading out before me.  It was a shock to the system to realize that I really could…

(a) Actually desire a goal…

(b) Plan for achieving it… and…

(c) Then go out and achieve it by implementing that plan.

It wasn’t fool-proof. And it was not easy. Nor did it guarantee success.

But it was like climbing a big mountain. You could spend your entire life wishing you could reach the top, lamenting the fact that you have no clue on how to even begin…

… or, you could get a clue (Step One) by researching mountain climbing, start hiking and learning the tactics of good climbing (Step Two), and be confident that… as each new step was made manifest… you could figure it out.

People who climb mountains, climb mountains. People who wish they could climb, just wish.

This is a metaphor for all of life. It’s what separates the doers from the dreamers.

I have fully embraced every mid-life crisis that’s come my way. Change, once you make friends with it, is the foundation of adventure and a wonderful thing to indulge in.

I got used to the occasional upheaval that came with these crises… like moving to another town (knowing it can take two years to feel part of any new community)… waltzing into situations where I was a total rookie (but armed with the knowledge that the NEXT time I encountered that situation, I would no longer be a novice)…

… and all the anxiety and turmoil that comes with shifting gears and choosing something dramatically different.

I quit the business world for a couple of years, and formed a rock band to play all the biker bars and hipster joints in Northern Nevada. I wrote bad novels for another year, and went deep into the world of published fiction.  (It sucks — I earned more with one freelance copy gig than the pro novelists I met earned in a year, even with a best-seller.) (And I would have never guessed that to be true, if I hadn’t gone down that path with total commitment to figure it out.)

I moved to different states, different communities, and different climates. (Big shock moving from my shack on the beach in LA, to the worst winter snowfall in 100 years up at Lake Tahoe. August 29th, swimming in the warm Pacific. September 29th, digging my car out of a ten-foot hill of snow.) (Hint: Dig out a glimpse of your license plate first. I dug out the wrong car twice before I figured that out.)

But that’s just me. Read biographies of people you admire (or loathe). Jobs, Gates, Einstein, Churchill, Nixon, JFK, Plato, all of ‘em…

… and take to heart how the ups and downs of their lives are critical points of decision. You go one way, your life changes dramatically. You go the other way, ditto.

But you go. You do not sit still with quivering lip, slick with fear.

You go.

I am proudly in the early stages of yet another mid-life crisis. And yes, I know I’m way past “mid-life” and all that. Again, it’s just shorthand metaphor for shooting down a fresh path, aimed far from the previous one I was on.

First step was to form a new side company, Carlton Ink, to channel my “dream” projects through. I used the term “Ink” as in writing ink, not tattoo ink, of course… and as a play on “Inc”. Just go with it. (This blog is my main entry page, so be sure to sign up, top right, or you’ll miss any notifications I send out for the exciting new shit I’ve got planned.)

I’m still deeply involved with my prior ventures like the Simple Writing System — I just moved away from day-to-day operations. I am especially still deeply involved in the now-infamous Platinum Mastermind (co-hosting with my biz partner Stan).

There’s never been a mastermind like this one before, and the NEED for this kind of intense, results-oriented insider group has never been greater. If you need to get in (there are limited spots), go here for more info.

(Side note: Just to drive home the point that mid-life crises are not just common, but constantly burping up in people’s lives… I asked the group in the last mastermind meeting to raise their hand if they were in, or felt near to a mid-life crisis.  Almost every hand in the room went up. This is important, because too many folks feel like they’re the ONLY ones going through this kind of turbulence. You’re not alone. It’s a major part of the human condition, and it’s PARTICULARLY intense for entrepreneurs.)

Second step was to indulge in a long-time desire of mine to have a truly cool logo.

So I cornered my uber-talented graphic artist pal Rick Allen (you can reach him yourself at InceptIncMail@gmail.com if you need primo design work done)…

… and had the logo done that is displayed up top here.

I just shiver in joy whenever I look at it.  I grew up surrounded by sixties SoCal car culture, loving the art, graffiti, tat’s and cartoons of the era…

… and always wanted my own rollicking graphic like this. Rick spent all of ten minutes listening to me gush and talk about the artists I worshipped (like R. Crumb, H. Bosch, and especially Rick Griffin and Robert Williams)…

… and then produced this gorgeous, stunning beauty. The old-style pen through the heart was my idea — a nod to the long line of scribes, going back to dudes etching on cuneiform clay tablets in ancient Sumeria, who are my brethren.

Here’s to ya, ink-stained wretches everywhere.

Step Three: Move ever-so-smoothly into a working semi-retirement… where I’ll tend to a couple of worthy clients (requirements: Big bucks, no whining, do what I tell you to do), and finish all these books and courses I’ve been ignoring for years.

Now, my “semi-retirement” will mostly resemble what other people do in a normal work-week.  I work damn hard at hobbies, side projects, and especially my own writing.

Oh, I got plans.

But before I finish up here, I need to lay out some basic ground rules for enjoying a good mid-life crisis.

I don’t wanna hear about anyone wandering off half-cocked, creating chaos in their wake chasing inappropriate love interests or signing up for the Navy SEALS at age 40. (You’ll get crushed in both instances.) Don’t be a cliche.

Here’s my advice:

Ground Rule #1: First and foremost, take care of those who depend on you. Don’t act irrationally, or without a well-thought-out plan. This is especially critical if there are children involved.

You can successfully go through a spectacular mid-life crisis without hurting others. It may only be 50% of what you wanted, but remember that most folks never do ANYTHING about their dreams… so you’re still way ahead. (So you take a family trek across Europe, instead of the bachelor sleaze-fest you think you wanted. Be a grown-up about this.)

Ground Rule #2: Make lots of lists, and keep them organized. This clears your head, and identifies what you need to focus on. If you’re determined to sail solo around the world, learn to swim first.

Ground Rule #3: Again, your homework is to read biographies. I’m serious about this. Learn how people who pulled off the spectacular accomplished it, and how they navigated their own foibles and the challenges of the world.

Ground Rule #4: Have an “exit” plan — both for your current situation (see Ground Rule #1) so you don’t leave collateral damage all over the place… and for at least a few months of your new direction. As much as you can, plan.

Now, I say that as a guy who rarely made good plans in my earlier crises. But I just didn’t know how, and was operating without a guidebook. I made up the rules as I went.

Don’t follow my early lead on this. Do your due diligence.

Ground Rule #5: Find support groups. It can be one person. (Mine, for several of my crises, was Gary Halbert, who talked to me frequently while I went careening off the walls in new adventures.)

Again, choose carefully — even your best pals may not be up for you leaving them in the dust, while you obliterate their excuses and go after your goals. Better to find like-minded colleagues already bloodied in entrepreneurial or life experiences.

Ground Rule #6: If you’re gonna do it…

… DO IT.

Don’t dink around, or do it half-assed. Don’t hurt anyone else. Research, prepare, gird thy loins. Then get busy.

Ground Rule #7: You go, girl.

Remember to enjoy the ride. Never allow despair to freeze you up. Get done what you need to get done, go deep, inhale and relish every detail, and get your gusto on.

Keep a journal, cuz your grandkids will wanna read it.

We only get one ticket, for one ride in this life. The big secret is: You’re in charge of your own script. Yes, a lot that happens will be unplanned, unfair and unwanted.

But for the rest of it, you’re in charge. Unless you choose not to be.

You don’t need to do what anyone else does. Find your own groove, and ride that puppy for all it’s worth. If you fail, you fail. Get back up, re-adjust, figure it out…

… and start again. Or move sideways into something else.

You can also choose to remain where you are. Absolutely no shame in that. The world needs a vast mob content to follow orders. It’s freakin’ scary when you wake up and realize you’re operating without a safety net — and it’s okay to not take that path (no matter how much the distant sirens call to you).

Just never forget that you’re choosing your path. Be at peace with yourself once that decision is made.

One last trick: Try to leave the world a better place, will ya?

Stay frosty,

John

P.S. What do you think of all this? Love to hear your thoughts, in the comments.

Wednesday, 11:56pm
Reno, NV
“Indeed your dancing days are done…” (Irish folk song)

Howdy.

I hope you’re doing well, and seizing the day.  As we all should, every day we’re alive.

Sometimes, for me, the best way to appreciate life is to, occasionally, also appreciate death. For all the sound and fury and chaos surrounding us on the Big Earthly Stage… for all the urgency of accomplishment and all the troubles of cobbling together a modern lifestyle…

… sometimes you just gotta stop and take a deep breath.

And know that, at some point, there will be one last breath like that… and then no more.

All of us sharing space on the planet have been granted a ticket to ride, and none of us know how long the ride will last.  Or how it ends.

Or, for that matter, what’s going to happen one second from now, let alone tomorrow or next month or next year.

And yet, life goes on.  And goes on well for some of us, and progresses haltingly for others. But it goes on.

For Steve Jobs, the dancing days are done.  I did not suspect his leaving us would affect me this profoundly, but it has.  I never met him.  And yet, our lives are intertwined.  I’m writing this on an iMac, using the friendly interface he championed (and forced the “who cares about fonts” geek-dominated virtual world to adopt), while my iPhone sits nearby (buzzing with incoming texts).

There will be plenty written about Jobs and his effect on how we live today.  I’ve already read a dozen articles online… and even the iHaters have to admit the world has shifted significantly with Steve gone.

For me, he was the Uber-Entrepreneur.  Dropped out of college because his energy and ideas bristled at the shackles of staid academia.  Aimlessly sought out ways to engage with life on a more grand scale, correctly sensing that the world was about to change fundamentally and forever.

And once that aimless energy locked onto a vision of what could be… he never stopped driving forward.

Several articles I’ve read have brought up the notion that Jobs didn’t actually “invent” the things he’s now being given credit for.  The same charge has been leveled at entrepreneurs since the dawn of time — disgruntled anti-hero types get heavily invested in dragging down icons out of a sense of justice.  Edison, Bell, Tesla, Einstein, Ford… they all have detractors who focus on the suggestion they didn’t “earn” their glory.

Jobs, to my knowledge, never claimed to be the sole dude behind any of the breakthroughs he was involved in, though.  He used “we” in his talks, and always had a team working with him. (Wozniak was the first member.)

You can pretend that the entrepreneur honchoing new stuff is merely an interchangeable cog in the wheel of invention.  That the light bulb, car, radio, television, space flight, Internet, personal computer and every other gew-gah supporting modern life would have been invented anyway…

… maybe later, maybe in some slightly different form, but it would all be here.

And that’s bullshit.  Anyone with a smidgeon of knowledge about the history of civilization can refute that idea.  The Web could have easily remained a pet project of the military-industrial-academic world.  The sky could easily today be full of zeppelins instead of jets, with no satellites orbiting above, no footprints on the moon, and no mp3′s murmuring in your earbuds.

Humans have a built-in drive to tinker with stuff, to make swords out of ploughs, to increase comfort and hide unpleasantness, to be curiouser and curiouser about things that blow up and move mountains and open minds.

But there isn’t one path to take, at any time.  The mobs resist change, king-makers subvert progress, and corporations don’t like crazy guys messing with the bottom line.

And that’s why the world we live in today… with the Web woven completely into daily existence, with once-dominant industries crippled even as brand-spanking new entrepreneurial opportunities bloom, with utterly and radically changed ways of finding and processing information…

… owes a ton to Steve Jobs.

I still marvel at how much we’ve been swept into the wake he created on the sea of modern life. I was like a motley fool stumbling around the edges of this vast tidal change, sometimes with a ring-side seat… never quite grasping just how profoundly things were shifting…

… but still enjoying the ride.

In the late 70s, I lived in a quasi-communal house in Palo Alto, just up the street from the famous garage where Hewlett-Packard was founded, a town away from the garage in Los Altos where Woz and Jobs had started Apple a few years before.  The guy in charge of the house I was in also happened to run the Artificial Intelligence lab at Stanford… so he had one of the first home connections to the Web (though it wasn’t called that yet).

He’d take us into the basement of the AI department after parties, where we’d run around like barbarians in the Alexandrian library — goggle-eyed at the refrigerator-sized mainframes chugging away, startled by the occasional mouse-like robots scurrying around… and completely mystified by what it all meant.  (Few people believe me about the robot mice, but they were there.  No idea why they haven’t been marketed, or what they could have been marketed for.)

I played text-only fantasy games on his home computer (attached to the Web through old-school telephone wires), with a poster of Bertrand Russell gazing at me.  (“Look down.”  ”There’s a troll with a sword lying at your feet.”  ”Wake up troll.”  ”Cannot understand command.  Try again.”)  This was a decade away from Leisure Suit Larry, for crying out loud, and even PacMan wasn’t out yet.

My housemates were mostly Stanford grad students.  (I was working in the art department of a local computer supply catalog, overseeing photo shoots where we naively put floppies upside-down into drives… cuz we were so clueless about all this computer crap, which surely wasn’t going anywhere anyway, you know.)

I had not the vaguest idea what any of this meant for the future.

I scored an early PC, cobbled together in a Pacific Coast Highway storefront with handwritten signs announcing the sale of “computers you can use in your home”.  (I had two IBM disc drives, and had to load a DOS floppy first, take that out and load a word-processing program — now obsolete — and use blank floppies in the second drive to store my writing.)

(Huge, cumbersome 5-1/4″ floppies, too, not the small ones.  Those things were as big as the New Wave singles on vinyl I still bought at the record store.)

And Gary Halbert and I actually attempted to market what is now called an “information product” on the World Wide Web — before anyone we knew had encountered a phone modem or owned an email address.  (It bombed.)  A decade later, I at least had the sense to establish an online presence with a crude website for my biz.  I had an early podcast available (when I had to explain to people what a podcast was), one of the first online merchant accounts BofA created, and dove headlong into the blog-o-sphere back when they still called ‘em “weblogs”.

But I was just a rider on the train.

The guys doing the driving were the ones breaking a sweat.  And the corporate types (IBM, MicroSoft) were headed one way, while Jobs and his team stubbornly headed out in another direction.

There was never any guarantee we’d wind up where we are now.  Humans resist change. The majority refused to believe man could fly, or transplant organs, or survive in a chaotic entrepreneur-friendly democracy.

Never mind mobile web surfing.

And that’s why Jobs was so freaking important.

I hang out with a lot of geeks.  They’re good people, smart as hell, and they’re having a blast in this Brave New Wired World.

But the breakthrough was in making it easy for guys like me to come along.  I’ve never tried to program software, don’t know a thing about code, and would be just as lost now as I was back in the AI basement…

… if guys like Jobs hadn’t pushed so hard for friendly interfaces and user-centered computing.

Even hard-core iHaters can’t deny that, in may ways, we live in Steve’s world.  He honchoed the teams that brought us here — doing the job of the visionary entrepreneur (who knows when to nix otherwise impressive geek breakthroughs, and when to fast-track the head-scratchingly obscure other breakthroughs no one else believed in… yet).

The corporate types are just fine with keeping new technology away from the masses.  If The Man had his way, we might still be on dial-up modems, with streaming video reserved for the wealthy and the military.  (And the only way to get music would be on CDs.)

Don’t think for a minute that The Man is happy about social media, instant messaging, and unfettered access to all knowledge.  That’s why they’re eavesdropping so much, and experimenting with shutting down the Web when they’re scared.

I don’t know what the world is going to look like next year.  Or even tomorrow.  We live in exciting times… and that excitement cuts both ways, good and bad.  Scary and delightful.

However, I do know I’m gonna miss Steve terribly.

There are lots of rebels out there, plenty of smart folks willing to take on The Man and never settle for “good enough” technology.

But there aren’t very many with the ability to communicate their vision.

And it’s fair to wonder if there’s anyone left with the mojo to honcho a team to make that vision real.  (Remember, Jobs was fired from Apple, resigned when his failures threatened the stock price, and pretty much swam upstream against corporate know-it-all’s and “common sense” for his entire life.)

I have high hopes.

I intend to hang around for a long time, and I’m enjoying being an itsy-bitsy part of the history still being written about this turbulent, wacky, chaotic birth of our Brave New Wired World (at least on the marketing side).

And Steve’s passing reminds me not to take any of it for granted, ever.

The dude was an Uber-Entrepreneur, and he changed the world.  We got to be bit players in the movie, enjoying the constant re-booting of reality and possibility…

… and now we’re already into the next act.

With no script.

Again, I have high hopes.  I’m also scared, because I study history… and this movie could easily take a wild left-turn at any time.  Just like it has so often in the past.

For now, though, I’m not worrying about the future.

Today, I’m reflecting on the ride so far.  And enjoying the privilege of having been around while Jobs was shaking up the joint.

What’s your take on all this?

Stay frosty,

John

Monday, 8:28pm
Reno, NV
“Just take those old records off the shelf, I’ll sit n’ listen to ‘em by myself…” (Bob Seger)

Howdy…

At the end of this post, I’ll explain how you can win a bitchin’ prize that will make you the envy of all your friends forever.

First, though — let’s learn something about marketing to humans, whadya say?

Here’s two quick “how to deal with the screaming chaos” tips for everyone in business today who’s just a tad freaked-out at the way things seem to changing so damned FAST:

Screaming Chaos-Dealing Tip #1: If you’re older, you need to cultivate solid relationships with younger folks who can help you understand the Zeitgeist of the dominant culture out there.  (Yes, even if you hate it.  Especially if you hate it, actually.)

And I’m not talking about having your nephew program your TV remote while you mow the lawn.

Nope.  I’m talking about entrepreneur-minded young adults, who just happen to be totally wired into the Grid…

… and can translate current trends while offering you some solid, smart perspective.

And…

Screaming Chaos-Dealing Tip #2: If you’re a young entrepreneur, you need to cultivate relationships with geezers who can give you some perspective on how we GOT to this current state of affairs.

Key thing to remember: You must limit your cross-generational relationships to smart, aware, and open-minded people.

Which means you’re fishing in a VERY tiny pool.

For the most part, the generations despise each other.  Partly because of the tendency for folks to stay within their peer group both socially and economically… and partly because most old farts get grumpy, and most young studs develop an intolerable arrogance right after their first flush of pubescence.

I was an arrogant little punk when I was young.  And I remember meeting some girl’s father at a party, who took me aside twice during the evening.  The first time to admonish me (with finger waggling in my face) for having long hair and a bad attitude (and I did), which he insisted was gonna ruin my chances for living a good life (and also negate any chance I had with dating his daughter)…

… and the second time — after he’d drained a bottle of Scotch — he took me aside to tearfully explain how much he wished he was young again (sob, choke) and how us kids had it right about life while his generation was a pack of fools…

… and could I maybe move in with him and his wife and daughter, cuz I was such a wonderful, awesome dude?  (I respectfully declined.)

That pretty much summed up my youthful insight toward the elder generation: Conflicted, embarrassingly creepy when they tried to “rap” with us, and kinda sloppy with the booze.

And I hoped I died before I got old.

Then, one day I was in a big business meeting… and realized I was ten years older than the next oldest entrepreneur in the room.  I had, in what seemed like a freakin’ blink, gone from the young hotshot kid in the room, to the grizzled veteran guy.  Twenty years had passed.

Lemme tell you, I now have some solid respect for the weirdness that is growing older in American culture.

My saving grace is that I’ve never been an “ageist” — defined as someone who discriminates against others on the basis of age.  It’s a stupid concept… but the culture kind of ensures it happens, because there are precious few chances for the generations to legitimately interact and fairly judge each other.

I lucked out.  Back in college, my anthropology prof forced us to get out into the community, find people in the very late stages of life… and record their stories.  (Or flunk her course.  She was an early mentor, and knew how to get stuff done, tell you what.)

THAT was a genuine wake-up call for me. The older generation wasn’t much for trying to communicate with the younger one, and vice versa… (our motto:  ”Don’t trust anyone over 30″)…

… and yet, once all the bullshit labels were yanked away, and real listening occurred…

… well, hell.  These were fascinating people, brimming with life experience I could only hope to encounter myself.  And they had fallen in love, suffered tragedy, made mistakes, lucked into a few good things, and had adventures that made the sci-fi stuff I was devouring look shallow and dull.

It’s not across the board, of course.  Some people never do anything worth telling a story about, and others are just plain boring zombies mad at the world.

But then, this applies equally to many of your peer group, no matter what age you are, or what segment of the socio-economic-ethnic culture you’re from.

So it’s important to always be on the lookout for people of all stripes and thinking that can add value to your life.  Regardless of anything else that defines them.  The real wealth in this all-too-short ride is to enjoy the full gamut of what’s on the menu.

And this brings us to the subject of this post.

Which is very much NOT earth-shaking…

… but is, rather, one of those interesting “little pieces of psychology” that nevertheless work their way into the top of your Bag Of Tricks as a salesman.

The lesson here will help any marketer trying to reach across the generational divide… and give you a hint as to how people have changed in the actual ways they measure each other up.

Here’s the story: Michele’s nephew David is (and I can back this up) among the savviest and most intensely-geared-toward-success entrepreneurs of his generation.  And he’s in his mid-twenties, for cryin’ out loud.

He’s my go-to dude whenever I have questions about how the younger generation thinks and acts.  (His biz is Next Big Sound, a company he started while still at Northwestern that is working with all the big music companies.  It’s basically a focal point online to measure how hot new bands spread their music far and wide.  Very hip, very ultra-modern, very cutting-edge… and taking complete advantage of the Web.)

And yeah, David has helped me program much of the various computerized and mechanical crap I’ve stuffed into my office.  (He’s been a life-saver, especially when I switched from PC to Mac.)

He is as deeply grounded in his generation’s psyche and habits as anyone you’ll meet.

And I’m a glutton for observing the cerebral changes constantly happening in our culture. I like to find sneaky shortcuts to understanding how people in my target markets THINK and ACT.

So… while the following may seem trivial to some readers…

… let me assure you that the underlying psychology is profound for any marketer looking to connect with an audience.

Here’s the exchange David and I had a short time ago:

Yo, David…

In my time (last century), you could walk into someone’s living quarters, spend 5 minutes perusing their record collection and the books on their shelves…

… and pretty much know what you needed to know about them.  Straight, square, hip, cool, interesting, or boring.  (Or how much dough they had, based on the number of new albums vs. used record store buys.) (And how obsessive they were, by how well they treated their collections, and what kind of stereo/turntable/components they had.)

For example: A single Carpenter’s record (or a Yanni cassette) was like 3 straight strikes, if you were dating.  And more than one Yes album (or not owning Dark Side of the Moon) was a sure clue you were dealing with a nerd.

So…

… is there an equivalent for YOUR generation?  Do you hop on Facebook and check out anything specific, say, the way my gen studied albums and bookshelves?

Seems like most iTunes libraries are too large, and too casual, to get much info.  But maybe I’m wrong.

See, my generation didn’t spend money easily.  If you bought an album, you agonized over it.  It meant something.  Same with books.

Now, at 99cents per tune, your Iggy Pop and Queens of the Stone Age mixes don’t necessarily mean you even like the music.  Does it?

Or would you look for more general things, like emo, or trance, or hip hop vs rock, or something like that?

Thanks.  This might be a great blog post (for my generation, and for the marketers in yours).

John

David’s reply (and I’ve left his random capitalization and slang intact… another clue to his gen’s writing style, which reflects their agile thinking processes):

Hi John.

Spoke with a friend about this yesterday and debated the various cultural things we consume that also represent us… came up with a few things:

iTunes library / iPod

What’s in someone’s iTunes library doesn’t mean anything. Our libraries have gotten so stuffed with random hard drive dumps of music over the past 10 years that browsing someone’s library is impossible (it’s too big) and determining their taste from that selection sucks. You nailed it with the ‘costs money to buy an album’ argument that used to hold true, now everything’s so free/cheap there isn’t enough scarcity for it to matter. That is, until you sort someone’s library by play count. Seeing the Top 100 songs someone has listened to is totally telling. Which leads into…

last.fm scrobbling

Last.fm is a sort of popular social network around music that CBS bought for a ton of money a few years back ($280mil). It’s pretty simple – anywhere I listen to music that has the ability to ‘scrobble’ reports to last.fm what I’m listening to and then shows me all sorts of cool stats and my musical affinity with another person. It’s always a good proxy for if I’ll get along with someone.  Here’s my profile: http://www.last.fm/user/dodecasyllabic

fragmentation/long tail/top 40/the radio/the internet

After writing all that I realized two things. There’s been so much talk about the long tail and the internet fragmenting things and there never being another Johnny Carson because how the hell would all of america crowd around our TVs all the time when we have the internet now. That’s the first thing – there’s some fundamental thing that prevents massive selling albums and everyone the same age liking similar stuff. But the second thing is that I think there are really two types of people – those that still listen to the radio and know what’s on the Top 40 and those that only consume via the internet and have no idea what’s ‘popular’. There’s hybrids, of course, but that’s the bigger thing that separates people now – are they ‘internet’ people or normals? My view is probably skewed since I’m pretty much always surrounded by internet people – they find their music on Mp3 blogs and Hype Machine and started subscribing early to rdio like I did.

what blogs they follow in google reader

Seeing what someone chooses to read on a regular basis, and if they choose to read on a regular basis beyond facebook status updates and gossip sites at all, is pretty big.

who they follow on twitter

I like seeing who I follow in common with someone on twitter. That’s telling. They opt-in to these streams… and who they choose says a lot, i think..

So is there an equivalent in my generation? no, probably not. and that’s a bit unfortunate… but you figure it out pretty quickly by putting some music on and seeing how they react. lucky for me I always have an excuse to talk about music because of NBS and that helps figure it out quickly…

David

All right… so is this a huge wake-up call for marketers?

Perhaps… if you’ve been cross-marketing to generations and you hadn’t yet realized how differently each one “measures up” new people.  Or communicates with their peers.

The main lesson: You’re never gonna be totally hip to someone in a different generation.

I mean, I still think the current crop of pop stars are embarrassingly untalented twits… and I will never, ever understand how rap became a cultural mainstay.  (Though I like hip-hop.)

And this comes from a guy who — in my own youth — worshipped garage bands who could barely play their instruments (the Seeds, the Stones, the Ramones, etc)…

… and who remained oblivious of my father’s discontent with “that damn racket“, which was so awfully different than the smooth swing jazz he grew up with in the 40s.

Still… you should try to at least know the fundamentals of how current market segments communicate (or fail to communicate) with each other.  And how peer groups spread the message on anything (your old-school “word of mouth”).

Just don’t be that old guy with a comb-over trying to be hip around the kids, getting all your slang wrong.  (“Hey, kiddo’s, I’m a hip jivester, too, gimme some skin, man…”)

And please — if you’re a kid — don’t tell me your favorite Beatle’s song is “Yellow Submarine” and expect that to start any kind of bonding process.  I was Kinks’ kinda dude, anyway…

PRIZE!

Okay, time for the game.

Here’s the task, and reward: The first person to name all the albums in the photo up top, in the comments section (don’t try to trump anyone by going to Facebook, now)…

… wins a free copy of my book “Kick-Ass Copywriting Secrets of a Marketing Rebel“… personally signed by me.  You’ll be the coolest kid on your block.

This is easily the toughest task I’ve ever had in this blog.  Some of those albums are freakin’ obscure… and there are a couple where all you can see are small bits of the cover.  (If I have to start dropping hints, I’ll start in a day or so.)

I imagine some Boomer who lived a life parallel to mine will scoop this one quickly.  Or some kid who grew up surrounded by Daddy’s tattered album collections…

Anyway, the comment section is open for any thread you wanna start, besides the contest.

Got any good stories or tactics to share on quickly evaluating someone?

Stay frosty,

John

P.S. I might be a big slow to respond in the comments — next week is Golf Week with my old pal and partner Stan Dahl.  Five days of scurrying around the finest links we can locate, with no distractions.

We’ve done this every year for around 15 years now.  Done it in Key West, Los Angeles, San Diego, Orlando, Phoenix, the California coast near Big Sur, Tahoe, Las Vegas…

… all over the freakin’ map.  It’s killer fun.  And I knew we were on to a good tradition when I noticed that other golfers we mentioned Golf Week to always got this misty-eyed look, obviously wishing they could come along.  Or have their own tradition going.

Ah, the stories Stan and I have.  Can’t share ‘em here, of course.

Still, I’ll be checking in through the wonders of the World Wide Web.  So, carry on.

Howdy…

Let’s have a nice chat about betrayal.

Not the big kind, like Shakespeare grooved on (with people dropping like flies, slain by their best pals)…

… but rather the small kind that happens way too often in business.

As in, between you and your colleagues.

Here’s what happened to spur this line of thought: I was just in Austin (Republic of Texas) to speak at an event packed with marketers.

Now, a lot of things happened while I was down there… including a few stories full of intrigue and dramatic plot twists…

… but one little thing happened that could easily harbor the most serious consequences for anyone trying to learn something about being a savvy, successful biz owner.

Let me set the story up for you: Often, when I speak to new audiences, I like to cajole and browbeat the crowd as I put them through some exercises.

It’s all in good fun, and it’s a rare marketer who doesn’t appreciate this kind of old-school learning tactic — essentially School O’ Hard Knocks training, where you’re pushed out of your comfort zone, which wakes up your brain and makes the exercises memorable.

It’s really the only way to learn and have it stick that ever worked with a stubborn, anti-authority kinda rebel like me.

So I return the favor when I teach.  (To mitigate the verbal thrashing and jive-talk, I also like to give out bottles of beer during the interaction.  It gets folks a little more motivated to speak up… especially since I often ask for the person with the suckiest exercise answer to stand up first and take their punishment.  I also sign the bottles.  This time around, we handed out longneck bottles of Lone Star when I liked the answers, and some other dismal local brew when I didn’t.  One of the signed bottles of Lone Star later got auctioned off, hauling down $200 for charity.)  (Much higher price than any of the other bottles I’ve seen being flogged on eBay…)

Okay.  Back to betrayal.

Now, what I find fascinating during these interactive sessions…

… is how often the people who are positive their answer is pure shite, completely contemptible and unworthy…

… are actually on the right path. And just need a little honest nudge to be totally righteous.  (I’ve lost count of the folks in this category who’ve gone on to great things — all they needed was a small morsel of encouragement, and maybe a good kick in the butt to get moving.)

However… even MORE fascinating for a student of human behavior… there are also those folks in the audience who are ever-so-slightly smug in their certitude of being correct…

… even looking forward to getting an enthusiastic thumbs-up…

… who are actually waaaaaaaaaaaaay off base, and about to wander down that dark, nasty alley where businesses go to die.

The smart folks in this second category quickly shake off the shock of being told “Nope, you done screwed that up big-time, cowboy”…

… and immediately set about correcting course.

The less-smart ones resist, squirm, and double-down on their original path.  What the hell do I know about it, anyway?  I’m just a 30-year veteran with a loose truth-telling gene in my brain.

Hang with me here.  This is important.

The exercises I like to use really put the audience through their paces in the fundamentals of creating great sales messages.

No fluff.  It’s fun, brisk work… but deadly serious if you’re looking to jack your biz up a notch or two on the profit scale.

Those of you who’ve been through the Simple Writing System would recognize one of these exercises as The Barroom Conversation:  How would you actually address a stranger, face to face, in a bar where you just overheard that he has a problem that what you offer… fixes?

Basically… when you have just a second or two before the other guy either edges away, or lashes out to smack you down…

… what do you say?

The answer you give may well determine how effective you are at selling stuff for the rest of your days.  You can either head toward World-Class Land (where all them rich folk live)… or remain wandering the barren wasteland of clueless sales naifs.

More advanced students will recognize the subject of this exercise — it’s your USP.  Or, how you position yourself uniquely in your market, in order to sell.  (In a strictly real-world situation, it would be how do you present yourself, in a public place where complete strangers don’t usually chat with each other without introductions…

… in order to not freak the prospect out, and create an environment where he might be eager to hear the rest of your persuasive message.)

Now… back in Austin, there was this very nice gentleman who fell into Category Two — certain he was on-the-money with his answer to the exercise…

… when he was actually miles away, and headed in the wrong direction.

He still got a signed beer.  And I helped him see why his thinking was fuzzy — I actually had zero clue what he did, or what he was offering, based on what he gave as the answer to the exercise.

His message was vague to the point of leaving many of us with the notion he was maybe in the business of introducing executives to hookers.

After a few sputtering moments of re-explaining, though, I realized he was, instead, a serious go-between who connected biz owners with each other for joint ventures.

Oops.

Sorry about the hooker thing, there, buddy.

But here’s the kicker: Several other attendees piped up, saying that they also didn’t know what the guy had been talking about during the event…

… and they had shared meals with the guy, and spent long period of times with him talking about biz.

He was stunned.

And he turned around to face the room, a tad stricken, and said “But why didn’t any of you TELL me you didn’t understand what I was saying?  I thought we were communicating just fine!”

And that, right there, is a lesson for the ages, folks.

Basically:  Who’s watching your back?

I don’t remember a whole lot of anything else from my speech at that event…

… but I remembered this particular situation very clearly.  It took all of two minutes, but it was easily the most critical lesson to be learned all day.

It’s beyond the power of networking.  This guy WAS networking.  He was connecting with folks, staying very involved, working the room.

But he made one big mistake: He trusted his own view of reality.

He took the smiles, nods and friendly banter of fellow attendees literally… believing everyone was in rapport with him, and understanding him completely.

When, actually, he may as well have been speaking gibberish.

Now, once he realized what was up, he was fine.  It was good to know now that he needed to be clearer… before he risked more money, time and will to live with his project.

But that’s standard operating procedure for helping businesses get on track.  Not having a clear message is easily the MOST common blunder marketers make.

A much nastier problem… is that part where no one will tell you when there’s a booger hanging out of your nose.  Most of your not-yet-close-friends in your network simply are not inclined to shoulder any responsibility like that.

And even your buddies often won’t tell you when your gray roots are showing.

The lesson here is… there are levels to intimacy most folks don’t understand, even in business.

Hell, maybe especially in business.

In fact, it’s kinda like the circles of Hell in Dante’s Inferno. Let’s see if we can’t organize it, just a bit… going from the biggest outer circle, to the intimate tiny one nearest your heart:

First, Really Big Circle: Strangers, who vary from being oblivious to you, to not caring even a tiny bit whether you live or die.  Rubber-neckers, happy to view any wreck you’re part of, but not willing to do anything to help.  At all.

Second, Pretty Big Circle: Colleagues outside your inner group of confidants.  You likely represent a means to an end to them — they regard you as someone who might be vaguely connected to future profits or ventures, or you’re a distant blip on their radar.

Third Large Circle: Colleagues at the edge of your inner group.  Name and face recognition is higher, and if you get out much to events, you may start seeing them regularly, even breaking bread or quaffing brews in the bar occasionally.  (And the bar, at marketing events, is where all good professionals know the REAL networking action happens… just FYI.)

These colleagues are on the fence about becoming closer to you, or becoming competitors, or deciding you’re not someone worthy of further engagement.  You’re still both unknowns in each other’s world.

Fourth, Gettin’ Smaller Circle: Newly minted insiders.  Still predatory, still might screw you in a biz deal… but also still might become lifelong pals.  But not yet.

Fifth, Fairly Tight Circle: Pals with whom you’ve shared some kind of adventure with. A partnership or co-venture requiring deep knowledge of each other… or some version of the classic “you don’t really know someone…

… until you’ve been with them while you’re both lost, wet, tired, and hungry” (ancient pre-wedding advice from some uncle or other).  (Hey, think about it — that’s solid advice…)

Sixth, Tiny Circle: A longtime pal you’ve had occasion to trust, and who has come through for ya.  Someone who shares the Professional’s Code: They make a habit of showing up where they said they’d be, when they said they’d be there, having done what they said they’d do.

Read that a couple of times, if it sounds strange to you.  Never judge a man by what he says he’ll do… rather, judge him by what he does.

Someone makes it into this circle when they’ve expended energy to get you into a meeting you’d otherwise never gain entrance to, or have passed along fresh gossip (before it’s ancient history), or didn’t hesitate a nano-second before recommending you to others as a go-to-guy.  They’re watching out for ya.

Count yourself lucky if you have ONE of these Sixth Circle types in your life.  You know you’re feasting on life when you have a dozen.

Seventh, And Smallest Circle Of All: A trusted road dog who would take a bullet for you.  True friend, who has had opportunities to prove his friendship and come through shining.  He not only will tell you when you’ve got egg on your mustache… he’ll defend you when you’re not around.

You never borrow money from this road dog — he’s already pressed it into your hand, before a word was said.  You don’t pay him back because of a contract — you do it because it’s the right thing to do.

And when you’re completely comfortable riding in silence for an hour together, you know you’ve hit Friendship Paydirt.  You may argue, you may even not see each other for a few years as life intervenes…

… but when you re-engage, you just pick up the conversation where you left off.

Oh, hell, I could go on… but I’m getting kinda sentimental here.  Cuz I’ve been blessed with a few of these kinds of friendships, and I won’t get to pick some of them back up until I sidle up to that big Algonquin Table In The Sky myself, to rejoin ‘em.

So let’s leave the circles as seven for now. It should at least be enough to make my point (and maybe get you thinking about who you’re hanging out with).

This isn’t a comprehensive list of friendship types, by any stretch. And there ARE strangers who will help you out, altruistically, on occasion.

But the lesson today is this: You can’t assume even the colleagues closest to you will tell you when your fly’s open.

When you find that person in life — the one who pulls you aside, not the one who tries to humiliate you in front of everyone — it may not mean you’re destined to be great friends.

But I’ll tell you what — anyone who won’t be honest with you (especially when it’s kinda important, like when you’re walking around with bird shit in your hair, or you’re about to tank your biz because you’ve screwed up your USP) isn’t yet in the running to move up the circles.

Just something to think about, as your entrepreneurial adventure brings you into contact with more and more people, and the lines between friendship and colleague blur.  (And it’s something to consider the next time you’re in a position to help someone… even though you may have to be uncomfortable for a moment.  Which the vast majority of folks will avoid like the plague.)

What’s your take on the subject?  The comment section is open.

Oh… and you’ve got an eye-booger on your lash…

Stay frosty,

John

Wednesday, 9:04am
Baltimore, MD
“Don’t follow leaders, watch the pawking meters…” (Bob Dylan)

Howdy.

Do you like change?

You know that most folks hate and fear change, right?  It’s all so unpredictably messy, and rudely forces you out of your comfort zone.

Bleah.  Yuck.  Keep it away.

Well, guess what?  Successful entrepreneurs love change.

More specifically, they love the opportunity to alter the way things are… both within their market, and in their lifestyles.

If you’re limping along on anemic sales, and suddenly a new tactic or project jacks response through the roof… that’s a good change.

If you roll out a hot, fresh campaign (aimed at demolishing competition and hoarding all the market share to yourself), and it bombs… that’s a bad change.

However, you can’t enjoy the first without risking the second.  Which kinda defines entrepreneurship in a nutshell:  You do something, there’s a reaction, and you deal with the gains or losses.

Maintaining the status quo is never a valid option in biz.  You keep moving and adjusting, like a parade negotiating twisting streets and weather changes.

You set up camp and settle in, though, and you’re like the Donner Party.  I’ve seen many businesses eat themselves alive, trying to avoid change.

There is stress inherent in both situations.  When you resist change, the anxiety and internal turmoil builds and festers.  When you engage with change, you are constantly flushing out the bad ju-ju, keeping your system in good working order.

It’s kinda like early dating.  I viscerally remember staring at the phone with Susie Q’s number in my hand, completely freaked-out over the looming possibilities.  Still, it was better to dial her up, mumble and fumble the conversation and face the consequences…

… than to walk away and pretend this trial-by-hormone-fire wasn’t something I had to deal with.

And I did both, over the course of a lifetime.  Engaged, avoided, sort-of-engaged, and sort-of-avoided situations loaded with consequence.  You win some, you lose more, you get a lot of ties.  (You can take this metaphor of dating-to-biz a long way, too.  I, for example, successfully asked some very attractive women out… and had epic horror-story dates.  And, my courage failed on other attempts to pick up the phone, and I later discovered — like, at the 10th reunion of my graduating class — that a truly sordid, amazing adventure in sure-thing sex had been missed.)

(That’s easily the greatest danger in going to your reunions, you know.  Susie Q walks up, gives you that upside-down pity smile, and asks why you never called her, because if you had, well, OMG she would have so jumped your bones and…

… well, it’s too late now, of course, but jeez, you shoulda called…)

Becoming an entrepreneur initiates an alarming increase in the number of decisions you must make in life.  Where your buddies, who are working in a regular J-O-B with The Man, can space out the big decisions and coast a bit…

… you now are faced with a never-ending To-Do-List of choices, each crammed to bursting with consequences.

If you’re in business, you are not gonna get around this fact o’ life.

However, here’s a piece of hard-earned advice that may help you out: The most fundamental decision you need to make, as an entrepreneur…

… is simply how you’re going to play the game.

It’s “Step One”, and everything else that happens flows directly from it.

You basically have 3 options:

1. Choose to know nothing about your market and how to succeed in it…

2. Or choose to know something about it all, and see what happens…

3. Or… and this is not a trick question, folks… you can choose to become an expert in what you do.

This includes being the most-informed and knowledgeable dude among your competitors… in what you do and how you do it.  Creating product, providing services, conducting campaigns, managing resources, building alliances, raking in the moolah and everything else that happens or doesn’t happen in the successful high-end part of your niche.

I will share a secret with you, which I learned in the course of consulting with boatloads of clients over the decades:  Most biz owners never get past Level Two here — they know “something” about their market, prospects and competition… but don’t go deep on any of it.

And it’s fine to live in the shallow end of the pool.  Lots of company there.

But choose to do so, if that’s what you’re gonna do.  Don’t let it just happen.

If you insist on winging it with your biz, and the stakes are low (as in, you are not investing your life savings, and you didn’t quit your day job yet)… then you can come away with an experience and adventure to tell your grandkids about when the project fizzles.  No shame there.

And I’ve known many biz owners who escape disaster despite being pretty much complete-freaking-idiots.  They use money in place of knowledge, and hire experts to run the joint.  This can actually work, if you have enough capital to ride out the rough spots.

Again, though, just be conscious that this is your plan: To act like a spoiled rich kid, buying everything and everyone you need to get anything done.

And if that realization creeps you out…

… then make the very simple decision to become an expert yourself.  The details of doing so are easy, once you’ve made that initial commitment — you figure out what you know and what you don’t know, and set about filling in the gaps while gaining mastery over the steps.

I haven’t had to call anyone for a date in a while, since I’m in a very happy long-term relationship.  But even back in my wild-ass bachelor days, the decision to ring a lady up or not never approached the red-line anxiety of those early attempts in my teens.

Years of raw experience, trial-and-error, plus a healthy sense of humor about the absurdity of it all had turned me into a grizzled master of the process.

The hard part was just deciding to do it.  To change from being that shy kid who couldn’t pull the trigger… to becoming that guy dedicated to figuring it out.  I shared notes with friends, interviewed women to get their take on the experience, read everything I could find on the subject and road-tested advice to see how if it actually worked or not.

Making that decision to just get hip changes everything.  Each fragment of info builds and sets up deeper understanding, and your mastery builds quickly when you have opportunities to implement stuff.

That’s important.  Being an expert in the intellectual theory of relationships won’t get you a date for the prom.  Putting things in motion is the difference between the successful entrepreneur and the info-junkie who can’t let the curtain go up.

This may seem like common sense, but the actual practice of it — going deep into the mastery of what you’re doing — is rare.  So it ain’t so common.

And making the choice to become a master will open the floodgates of change in your life, in the best way possible.

Love to hear your thoughts on the subject.  The comment section is open.  (And sharing of dating horror stories is encouraged… surely there are further marketing lessons to be gleaned from the tales of woe we all have…)

Stay frosty,

John

Monday, 7:55pm
Reno, NV
“But it’s all right… in fact it’s a gas…” (The Stones, “Jumpin’ Jack Flash“)

Howdy…

It’s time for another orgy of graduation rites across the land…

… and, in honor of it all, I am re-posting last year’s rant on the subject.  It was one of the more popular posts I’ve written, so it deserves an annual rediscovery.

So, without further ado… here’s the post:

Nobody’s ever asked me to give the commencement speech for a graduating class.

That’s probably a good thing.  I’m pretty pissed off at the education system these days, and I might cause a small riot with the rant I’d surely deliver.

See, I have a university “education”.  A BA in psychology.  (The BA stands for, I believe, “bullshit amassed”.)  I earned it several decades ago…

… and while I had a good time in college (height of the sex revolution, you know, with a soundtrack that is now called “classic rock”), made some lifelong friends, and got a good look at higher learning from the inside…

… that degree provided zilch preparation for the real world.  Didn’t beef me up for any job, didn’t give me insight to how things worked, didn’t do squat for me as an adult.

I waltzed off-campus and straight into the teeth of the worst recession since the Depression (Nixon’s post-Vietnam wage-freeze, record unemployment, gas-lines, near-total economic turmoil)…

… so, hey, I should have a little empathy for today’s grads, right?

Naw.

While today’s graduates are facing similar grim economic times, there’s been a significant change in the concept behind a college education.  Somehow, over the years, a bizarre mantra has taken hold in kids minds: “Get a degree, and it’s a ticket to the Good Life.”

A job is expected to be offered to you before the ink is dry on your diploma.

And it really, really matters WHICH school you get that diploma from.

You know what I say?

Bullshit.  Okay, maybe if you go to Yale or Harvard, you can make the connections on Wall Street and in Washington to get your game on.  Maybe.  (More likely, those connections are already available, if you’re gonna get ‘em, through family bloodlines… and the Ivy’s are just playing up their famous track records in a classic sleight-of-hand.)

Put aside the advancement opportunities offered to spawn of the oligarchy, though… and the realities of life-outside-of-academia do not jive at all with the propaganda doled out by the university systems.

Many of the richest guys I know are drop-outs.  Some are HIGH SCHOOL drop-outs.  The few friends who did go to the kind of school whose name causes eyebrows to rise…

… are ALL working far outside their major.  To the point that nothing they learned has proven to be even remotely useful to their adult life.  (Unless they stumble upon another over-educated dweeb at a cocktail party and get into a bare-knuckle Trivial Pursuit marathon.)

Too many people get all confused and bewildered about “education” as opposed to “going to college”.

It’s not the same thing, folks.

Some of the most clueless individuals I’ve ever met have impressive diplomas… while nearly all of the most savvy (and wealthy) individuals I know done got educated all on their lonesomes.

I learned more about history, business and psychology in 2 weeks of serious library surfing (with a speed reading course under my belt) than I did in 4 years of college.

And I learned more about life in 3 months of hanging out with street-wise salesmen than I did from ANY source, anywhere, up to that time.

By all means, go to college if that’s part of your Master Plan to having a great life.  You’ll meet interesting people, and it’s a Rite Of Passage for many Americans these days.

But don’t do it blindly.  Just cuz The Man says it’s what you’re “supposed” to do.

Do some critical thinking before you jump in.

And if you really want that degree in Russian literature, or women’s studies, or political science, or whatever… then fine.  Go get ‘em.  Grrr.

Just KNOW that you can probably educate your own damn self on those subjects… and even get a deeper understanding of it all… by reading every book written about it, and interviewing a few experts.  And if you can get private mentoring from someone, even better.

This can all take place during evenings and weekends, over the course of a few months, while you hold down a day job.  Even if you buy the books, instead of hitting up libraries, you’ll have spent less on this specialized education than you’d pay for a single semester in “real” school.

And, unless you’re the laziest screw-up ever, you’ll actually learn MORE in those few months of intense immersion… than you would with a full-on degree.

You know how I can make this bold claim with a straight face?

Because this is what I’ve been doing as a freelancer for decades.  Every time I wrote for a new market, I spent weeks immersing myself in it… learning everything I could about it from the inside-out.  And this process often made me more of an expert than the client himself.

And I did it over and over and over again.

It was just part of the job.  All top freelancers do this.

Once you lose your fear of self-education…

… you can finally let it sink in that WE LIVE IN THE FREAKIN’ INFORMATION AGE.  The joint is crammed to bursting with books, ebooks, videos, websites, courses…

… the whole world is CRAZY well-stocked.  There are teachers and coaches and mentors available if you need supervision.  (I’ve partaken of this opportunity frequently over my life.) Boards and fan-zines and forums and membership sites abound (for bitching and moaning, as well as for networking with peers).

It’s a cornucopia of knowledge, experience and adventure out there.

Yes, there are blind alleys and pitfalls and wrong turns…

… but once you’re committed to learning something, these are just brief excursions off the main drag… and you can use even your failures as advanced learning tools as you gain expert status.  (In fact, it’s really required that you screw up at least a little bit.  Otherwise, you never get perspective.)

And best of all…

… you can engage with life as you go.  And skip the jarring nonsense of the Ivory Tower bubble.

(One caveat to self-education: You must, early on, read up on how debates are actually taught.  Or join a debate club.

I’m serious.  Best thing I’ve ever done.  As you sample debating, you should demand that you are given the OPPOSITE viewpoint that you currently hold for any subject.  This forces you to look beyond your petty biases, and to open your mind to other points of view.

This is a HUGE advantage to have in your toolkit throughout life.  Everyone else will be hobbled with un-examined party-line nonsense and indoctrinated crap they can’t even begin to defend when challenged…

… while you — with your rare ability to walk in anyone’s shoes, and to feel the pain or glory of alien thought patterns — will forever more see beyond the sound bites and cliches.  And be able to eloquently explain anything, to anyone.

You will actually begin to sense vestiges of “truth” in the wreckage of our modern culture.

I don’t have to tell you how that might apply to marketing, do I?)

Most people will not go this route of self-examination and immersion-learning, of course.  The concept of taking control of your own education seems kinda threatening and foreign to the majority out there.

We spend the first years of our lives sitting quietly in classrooms, being trained to believe we don’t know shit (and that Teacher knows everything).  That’s excellent training for hitting a groove in college and post-grad pursuits…

… but it’s piss-poor preparation for Life In The Concrete Jungle.

Again, nothing wrong about going with the status quo.  No shame.

Just don’t expect to learn much about the way the world works.  You’re learning how academia works.  Different animal.

Wanna hear my short speech on how to prepare yourself for life?  (I’ve edited this from a recent post I wrote for the Simple Writing System mentoring program.  Lots of great stuff keeps coming out of that gig…)

(Okay, quick plug: Check out www.simplewritingsystem.com to start your own adventure as a high-end sales master…)

Here’s my mini-rant: I’m extremely prejudiced about this subject, of course.  If I ran the world, everyone would get at least a taste of being an entrepreneur.

It will taste bitter to most people.  And that’s fine.  No harm, no foul.  Move on to getting that job with The Man.

But for some… it will be sweet nectar.  A thrill like nothing else they’ve ever experienced before.

Being an entrepreneur takes balls.

But you don’t have to “be” a ballsy kind of person.

You just have to understand how to implement your goals… which requires a little savvy about getting stuff done in the face of opposition and obstacles.  Which is the definition of “ballsy”.  Most of the people successful at achieving goals were not “born” with the necessary guts.

They learned the skill of living life with guts, just like they learned every other important skill associated with the gig.

I OFTEN intervene even with long-time professionals (like freelance writers, or veteran biz owners) who are screwing up their efforts to be successful.

My main advice:  “Stop being a wuss.  Everyone is scared.  The successful ones acknowledge that fear, put it aside, and just get busy taking care of business.”

It really is that simple.

Life beyond childhood is for grown-ups.  If you’re scared, you can take a regular job somewhere, and stay far away from the risks and realities of being your own boss.

On the other hand… if you’ve got entrepreneur’s blood in your veins… and you really DO want to be your own boss…

… then allow the reality of doing so to wash over you, and embrace it.

Everyone is unsure of themselves out there.  There are no guarantees in life for anything… and getting into biz is among the riskiest things of all to do.

A tiny percentage of skydivers will die each year while jumping… but a vast chunk of rookie business owners will fail.

This is why you pursue the skills of salesmanship.  Learning how to create a wicked-good sales message, how to close a deal, , and how to bond with a target market is the PRIMARY weapon you want walking into ANY business environment.

Will you still fail?  Maybe.

But you will NOT fail because you don’t know what the hell you’re doing. If knowing how to persuade and influence can make your business sizzle, then learning salesmanship means you’re armed to the teeth.  Like everything else in life, having the right tools for the job at hand is the best way to put the odds in your favor.

MOST people are not meant to be their own boss.  The world needs followers, too.

Here’s what I tell students in the Simple Writing System, when doubts about their future bubble up:  ”Just by diving into the SWS, you have shown that there is something different burning inside you.  No one held a gun to your head and forced you to come here to learn these skills.  You decided to join all on your own.

“Even if you’re not yet sure why you’ve joined us here… you need to understand that MOST people would never even consider doing anything like this.

“Independence freaks most people out.  The thought of standing up and taking responsibility for the birth and success of a business is terrifying… and most will refuse to even entertain the thought.

“This is, by the way, why you should always enter the entrepreneurial world WITHOUT relying on your current crop of friends for support.

“They will not support your efforts.  They think you’re batshit crazy for daring to even consider being your own boss.  They will (consciously or unconsciously) sabotage your progress if they can, and rejoice in your failures… because if you DO succeed, that kills their main excuse for not succeeding themselves.  Most folks believe success is all about luck and magic.  When you dig in and actually do the work necessary to succeed, you piss all over their world view that The Little Guy Can’t Win.

“If you’ve made friends or started a network of fellow travelers here in the SWS, great.  Most entrepreneurs have to operate alone (until they find places like this, where they can find help, advice and coaching).  That loneliness just intensifies the fear and sense of risk.

“But I’ll tell you the truth:  As scary as being independent is…

“… once you’ve tasted it, you’ll be hooked.”

Most entrepreneurs who enjoy even a little success instantly become “unemployable”.  After thinking for yourself, after taking responsibility for your success or failure, after engaging the world fully aware and experiencing the thrill of living large…

… you’re worthless to a boss.  He can’t use anyone who thinks for themselves.

Are you wracked with doubt?

That voice you hear — the one knocking you down, digging a knife into your gut and highlighting your worst fears — is JUST A VOICE.

In psychoanalytic talk, it’s your “Super Ego”… the scolding parent’s voice, the doubter of your abilities, the whiny little bastard bent on keeping you down.

And it can easily be sent packing.

Most people allow others to rule their lives.  Rules and bad advice and grim experiences dating back to childhood somehow become “the way it is”…

… and regardless of any proof otherwise, they will obey that voice until they die.

And yet, all you have to do…

… is acknowledge the voice (“Yes, I hear you, you little shit“), realize it’s not your friend… and lock it in a dungeon deep in your brain, where you can’t hear it anymore.

I speak from experience on this subject.  I was ruled by The Voice Of Doom for the first half of my life.  I didn’t even try to take responsibility for my success, because The Voice told me it was hopeless.  That I was hopeless.  That Fate had nothing but failure in store for me.

Then, I realized that The Voice was actually full of shit.  I proved it, slowly at first, by setting a goal outside The Voice’s warnings… and then achieving it.  And then doing it again.

It’s like superstition.  I used to be the most superstitious guy you’ve ever met.  Literally, my life was dominated by superstitions.

Then, one day, I just decided to see how real those superstitions were.  So I violated every single one of them.  On purpose.  If I had previously thought some action was “bad luck”, I would do it, blatantly, just to see what kind of bad luck occurred.

And, of course, no bad luck ever appeared.

The human brain is crammed with bullshit like this.  Superstitions, bad rules, dumb beliefs, unfounded fears and ridiculous feelings of guilt and shame.

Especially guilt and shame.

You know what a fully functioning adult does?  They don’t approach life believing it should be a certain way, or wish that life was a certain way.

No.  They engage with life the way it really is.  You make your own luck.  Rules sometimes make good sense, but deserve to be broken when they’re clearly stupid.  Belief systems often have nothing to do with reality.  (You can “believe” you’re gonna win the lottery with all your heart and soul… and it won’t change reality one tiny bit.)

Fear is a natural part of our defense system… and it can get out of hand in modern times.

So you need to dig in and get to know your fears.  Some are fine — don’t walk down that dark alley if you’re not prepared to deal with the things that happen in dark alleys.

Others are bullshit — you had a bad experience once when you were 12, and so what?  Get over it, put on your Big Boy Pants, and re-engage with life.

And shame?  Guilt and shame are useless.  On the road of life, feeling guilty about something is like setting up camp and refusing to move or progress any further.

Instead, try “remorse” — recognize when you’ve done something wrong, clean up the mess, fix what you’ve broken as best you can, and make amends to people you’ve hurt.

And don’t “vow” to do better next time.

Instead, actually DO something to change your behavior or habits. Promises are bullshit. Action is the only way to move through life in a positive way.

Don’t promise to do better.  Just do better.  This will probably involve learning something new — a new skill, a new way of dealing with life, a new set of behaviors.

Doing this will set you apart from the majority of other people out there, too.

The modern Renaissance Man or Woman is something awesome to behold.  While the rest of the world increasingly sinks into a snoozing Zombie-state — indoctrinated, fooled, manipulated and played– you have the option of becoming MORE aware, more awake, more alert and ready to live life with gusto.

However, no one is going to force you to do this.

If you want to join the Feast of Life, you have to stand up and earn your seat at the table.  You will not be invited in.  You will not stumble in by accident, or stroke of luck.

Nope.  You must take responsibility for your own life… figure out what you want… and then go get it.

It’s a daunting task for most folks… too daunting to even contemplate.

For the few who know it’s what they want, however… it’s all just a matter of movement and action.

Yes, it can be scary.  Life is terrifying, at times.

It’s also only worth living, for many people, when you get after it with all your heart.

There are no replays on this game.  No second tickets for the ride.

You’re allowed to sleep through all of it.  Most folks do.

If that’s not good enough for you any more, then welcome to the rarefied air of the entrepreneur world.

It’s fun, it’s thrilling, it’s scary, and there’s no safety net below you.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

And that’s the commencement speech I’d give.

Put you to sleep, didn’t it.

Okay, my work is done here.

What would YOU tell new grads?  Lay it out in the comments, below…

Stay frosty,

John

Monday, 9:27pm
Reno, NV
“Oops, I did it again…”  (Britney, God love her…)

Howdy…

I’m on a roll here, grabbing criminally-ignored posts from the blog archives…

… and re-posting them prominently, so you criminally ignore them no longer.  With a few minor edits, of course, tailoring the prose to fit today’s quirky needs for advice.  (Hey, you don’t fit into your old high school jeans anymore, either, you know.)

Here, we have another dangerously-tasty post from not too long ago… which, I believe, requires no explanation other than to say it’s some serious insight into the writer’s brain.

You do NOT want to venture into this quagmire without a guide.  Which is what I’ve written here — a short “guide to the writer’s mind”.

Not exactly a hot Disneyland ride, but if you’re in business it’s some wicked-valuable info.

So, indulge, and enjoy (if you dare):

I’m gonna need your feedback on this.

See, I’ve always been a wave or two out of the mainstream… and that’s actually helped me be a better business dude, because this outsider status forces me to pay extra attention to what’s going on (so I can understand who I’m writing my ads to).

This extra focus means I’ve never taken anything for granted — especially not those weird emotional/rational triggers firing off in a prospect’s head while I’m wooing him on a sale.

And trust me on this: Most folks out there truly have some WEIRD shit going on in their heads, most of the time.

It can get spooky, climbing into the psyche of your market.

Still, though, it is, ultimately, exquisite fun. This gig as a professional writer — figuring out how to get people’s attention, influencing decisions that will change their lives in profound ways, and weaving stories and glory out of blank pages — can be more invigorating than leaping off Half Dome with a tiny parachute.

I’m sure you don’t believe me. Few do on this matter.

But the raw truth is… good copywriters work in the deep grooves of Real Life, where it’s strange and dangerous and… well, fun.

At the next seminar you go to, check out the bar in the hotel. You’ll find the best writers in a gaggle near the back of the room, rolling on the floor and holding their bellies from laughing so hard.

What’s so funny?  Everything.

Writers are like M*A*S*H doctors on the front lines — so deep in the mire of human existence, they need to laugh to keep from going mad. Because the world is one batshit-crazy joint…

… and they are neck-deep in it, getting up-close-and-personal with the insane stuff that decent folks try their best to ignore.

To an observer’s eyes, writers can seem irrepairably neurotic. And share a tear for the spouse:  For both the male and female of the species “Writer Erectus”, it takes a super-smart, confident, and wry partner to keep a relationship going. There’s no such thing as “settling into a rut” when half the marriage is a writer.

You better have the chops to deal with serious “wild and crazy” intellectual (and, sometimes, physical) acrobatics.  It might help to think about writers as being semi-tame monkeys, itching to revert to chandelier-swinging at the slightest provocation.

Except, of course, for those uncomfortably looooooong periods where the writer is staring off into space, or so transfixed by the Word document in front of him that you almost want to check for a pulse to make sure he hasn’t left the corporeal realm entirely.

From deep good fun, to deep near-comatose thinking.

It’s a roller coaster, trying to befriend, live or work with one.

Which may be why writers seldom get any respect.

Which also may be why most of my closest friends and confidants… are also writers. We “get” each other.

We don’t have to explain why we consider writing so much… fun.

Even when it’s painful.

Like I said… we’re weird. Not in step with the rest of the world.

And yet… we MUST connect with the rest of the world, to be able to write sales copy. So we become amateur shrinks, rookie hypnotists, gluttons for inside info… and world-class students of human behavior.

Normal people can’t be bothered with observing other humans closely. Too much trouble, and it’s hard, anyway.

Better to just adopt a convenient world view — “us” and “them” — and be done with it. Be a little loving, a little hating, do business, mow the lawn and take your kids to church. Hope for the best, fear the unexpected, kill all messengers with bad tidings.

Writers, however, will shrivel and die when forced to be “normal”.

Screw that. We read what we like (even if it’s nasty and especially if it’s prohibited)… we think bizarro thoughts that would bring normal people to their knees in horror… we sing out loud and fall hopelessly in love… and we don’t notice the sun setting — we observe the dappled thunderheads huddled over frozen mountains, swallowing the blazing orb hungrily, giddy for the starry onrush of night.

So, yeah. Fun, with life, with words, with living as deep and fearlessly as possible… if the gig wasn’t rife with these things, most of us would be doing something else.

And money?

Well, for most of history, scribes were slaves. Then (big upgrade) they were groveling servants of the ruling class — never equal, never respected much.

Then — when the novel appeared in the early 19th century — a funny thing happened: Writers started earning money for their efforts.

And, sometimes, the wealth accumulated. Mark Twain was a rich and respected world-traveler. Charles Dickens, Oscar Wilde, and Alexander Dumas used their notoriety as story-crafters to rise above their normal “station” in life.

By the time direct response advertising became a thriving industry (early twentieth century), the utter importance of writers made them minor rock stars among advertisers.

Now, with the global reach of the Web, a guy who learns to write well — to communicate, persuade, and close the deal — will have to struggle NOT be have piles of money thrown his way.

And yet…

… and yet, as my friend Rich Schefren observed in a recent chat: “John, it’s ironic that you — the guy who helped so many of us get our start in marketing and using words to sell — seem perpetually trapped in what is viewed as the most UN-SEXY part of the business world.”

And he’s right.

I hate him for pointing it out… but he’s right.

It’s probably part of the appeal that keeps me in the game. I thrive on being an “outsider”. I get itchy whenever I’m too “accepted”, or feel myself slipping into the mainstream. Don’t like it. Will do something anti-social to break rapport, and stir shit up.

If my slovenly little corner of the biz world ever truly became “sexy” enough to gain total mainstream acceptance, in fact… my head would implode.

And bats would fly out, and little tiny monsters would scrabble from the steaming wreck of my neck, where just a wee dangling smidgen of ape-brain was left, snarling and spitting…

Professional ad writing is not sexy.  (With all due exceptions for Don Draper in “Mad Men”.)

It’s not raiding pension funds for profit… it’s not gaming the stock market for windfalls… it’s not gory entertainment like cage fighting… and it’s not sexy like the “magic” of launches and social networking scams and posting funny YouTube shit is sexy.

The irony kills me, every day.

In Hollywood, moguls gnash their teeth and directors consult astrologers while investors shovel money at box-office-boosting stars in a never-ending attempt to make their movies “huge hits”.

They do everything, in fact, except respect the ONE thing that truly matters: The fucking script.

You know — what the WRITERS produce.

Same with business. I teach freelancers to walk into a client’s office and OWN the situation. Charge a gazillion bucks (payable immediately), and make the client like it. Set cushy deadlines that please you, order folks around, and generally run things like an asshole.

Why? Because you’ve got to smack clients upside the head like that — and sometimes BE an asshole — to get the respect you require to do a good job.

Because while your skills at writing are the FOUNDATION of success in every single project out there… most clients refuse to admit it.

This hard-core “own the joint” attitude is 180-degrees opposite of how most freelancers go about dealing with clients. They crawl into a new client’s office on their knees, begging to be hurt and whipped and abused. They accept “vendor” status, and get paid on 60-day invoices. They allow their best stuff to be trampled and rewritten and shat on by lesser mortals… because they’re closer to the old slave scribes than to the Web millionaires using copy to get rich.

You want sexy?

How about having fun and making money.

You know — like the folks who bother to learn the deep, dark art of viciously-effective copywriting.

Okay, I know there are lots of members of the opposite sex who realize how super-bad-thexy writers truly are. Most of the writers I know aren’t widely appreciated in the biological pool, but within certain groups they are lust-candy. To a certain part of the population, brains being used for bad behavior… just so we have a good story to write about later… is the sexiest thing going.

But in the broader scheme of things, writers are always going to be outcasts.

Which brings me back to that table in the back of the bar at the seminar.

Who cares about respect, when you get to hang out with the smartest, funniest, most interesting folks in the room all the time?

I like the money that arrives from knowing how to write. I love the fun that comes with seeing the world differently than almost everyone else.

And I’ll just continue to be ironically pleased with a sexiness that only I and a few others seem to see.

It’s a very secret club. You earn admission only by embracing the craft, and being demanding of yourself in getting really, really good.

For those of us in the back of the room, it’s the ONLY club worth being in. We’d belong even if the money wasn’t stupid-huge.

To the writers out there: Can I get some testimony? How do you guys experience the frustration of not being understood, of working alone so much of the time, of owning a brain that goes to amazing places other people can’t even dream about?

I know that none of you would give up your hard-won chops as a writer, not for all the money in the world. We hold all the true power in life, and in the culture.  Pen mightier than the sword and all that.

And in business, too — it’s the writer who makes the magic happen.

Still, what do you guys think? Am I being too dramatic here? Not dramatic enough?

Love to hear from y’all…

Stay frosty,

John

P.S. Two last thoughts:

Thought #1. As always, if you crave knowing what writers know about the world and about business…

… just click here to see what’s available through the Simple Writing System.  That’s your first step — get the inside scoop, and learn the basics of quickly becoming the best writer you’re capable of becoming.  (Plus the sneaky advanced-yet-simple stuff filling this system that can make you ridiculously-good, in case you decide to go pro).

That’s your ticket to the club, so to speak.

Thought #2. And if you’re already a pro writer, stay tuned…

… cuz we’re gonna revamp the infamous “Freelance Manual” soon.  Which is all about the specifics of living the good life as a freelance copywriter:  Finding and managing clients… getting paid the big bucks… and grabbing your seat at the head of the Feast Of Life, where the adventures are fast and furious.

It’ll all be available soon.  Hang tight…

Saturday, 4:43pm
San Diego, CA
“Arriba y arriba, por ti seré, por ti seré…” (La Bamba!)

Howdy…

Important alert today.

If you know, in your heart, you shoulda been there with us for the Action Seminar last week…

… and you just couldn’t make it…

… we’ve now got the Primo Solution for you.

It’s this: We filmed the whole darn thing — every thrilling, shocking, life-altering moment on stage, with a pro camera crew — and have decided to uncork the video immediately.

It’s now available, online, and ready for you to dive into with gusto.

To gain instant access to the professionally-shot video of this already-legendary Action Seminar, go here now.

What you’re about to witness is a seminar different than any other you’ve ever heard about, attended, or caught rumors of.  We called it the “Action Seminar” because it was all ABOUT action…

… meaning, finally getting your plan together to make 2011 your best year ever…

… and kick that puppy into high gear, right freakin’ NOW.

The joint was crawling with Rockstar marketers, like Perry Marshall, Mike Koenigs, Jason Moffatt…

… and I even managed to haul “E-Myth” author Michael Gerber on-stage for a truly shocking (and enlightening) interview.  (You HAVE to see what the legendary Gerber did, to understand why everyone said it was a drop-dead highlight of the show.)  (Hint: NOT for the weak of heart.)

Plus, of course, there were all the notorious writers, the Hall-of-Fame guru’s, and the infamous experts who delivered the presentations, panels, interactive Hot Seats, and hands-on coaching…

… who you’ll find listed here.

You now have a golden opportunity to witness the entire shenanigans that went down on-stage… glean all the shared info, secrets and specific “action steps” laid out…

… and you can do it from the comfort of your home or office.

Look — you let the opportunity to BE there slip past you.  Now, don’t you DARE let this opportunity to experience it all from your virtual front-row seat slip away, too.

Go here to get the details.

I’ll be back here with a killer new blog post in a few days…

Stay frosty,

John

Side note: That quote, above, from the song La Bamba, translates very loosely as “Faster and faster, I’m there for ya“.  The tune became a theme song among the throng of copywriters and “marketing royalty” who came to help us fulfill the very generous and large promises of the event…

… and I think there’s a grainy cell-phone video floating around of DoubleD (“A-List” copywriter David Deutsch) leading the sing-along in the after-hours VIP party.

The lyrics fit. All of us — a dozen of the most respected and highest-paid writers on the global scene, another dozen-plus movers-and-shakers, experts and behind-the-scene wizards — were committed to making the event a notorious success.  By sharing the good stuff, performing hands-on solutions and fixes to biz problems, and seeding all the vigorous networking with “I’ll watch your back” participation.  Dance the Bomba, indeed.

Go here to see what all the fuss is about.