Shame and Your Career

In my recent guest post for WriterUnboxed.com, I talked about how fear and shame often play a role in decisions on how we practice our craft and navigate our career. How we often make decisions about our writing career based on surface-level excuses that mask deeper motivations:

We resist writing for deeper reasons.
“It just feels so selfish, I have a responsibility to my kids, and the house is a mess.”

We resist craft for deeper reasons.
“That teacher doesn’t know what she is talking about, all of my beta readers loved it.”

We resist aspects of the publishing process for deeper reasons.
“Are people who self-publish really that desperate?”

We resist marketing for deeper reasons.
“Marketing doesn’t work. I tried it once and didn’t sell one additional book. Same thing happened to my friend.”

We resist social media for deeper reasons.
“I don’t have time to share photos of my lunch, I’m too busy for that.”

We resist success for deeper reasons.
“I grew up in a family where you didn’t gloat about what you are doing. Besides, I don’t deserve it.”

The post delves into the topic of shame, and concludes with ideas for how to better manage it when it crops up, including:

  • Ask for help
  • Get a second opinion
  • Make experimenting a habit
  • Always ask questions of others
  • Address mental health concerns

Read the full post here.

“It’s not just what film you want to make, it’s what film can you make.” My interview with filmmaker Angela Tucker

Today I’m excited to share my conversation with writer, director and producer Angela Tucker. In this interview, talk about the realities of crossing that gap from one’s creative vision to making it a reality. What jumped out at me was two things:

  • How many disparate projects and goals she juggles at any one time.
  • How incremental everything is. From both the creative side to the funding side, her work moves forward one small commitment at a time.

Angela TuckerTopics we cover:

  • Her career path, and how she made decisions along the way.
  • How she balances multiple projects at once.
  • How she structures her work, and how one project tends to be a response to the previous. For some projects she has some control over; others, less so.
  • How large projects start with small conversations and experiments.
  • The depth of commitment that documentary filmmaking requires: how she can’t help but laugh when someone says that they will make a documentary within a year. Because it nearly always takes much longer.
  • Sources of funding available to filmmakers trying to make their dream a reality.
  • How incremental her funding is, it doesn’t come in one lump sum. She has to be seeking funding constantly throughout a project.
  • How she deals with negative feedback to her work.
  • How professional decisions effect her personal life, and vice versa.

You can listen to the podcast by clicking ‘play’ below, or in the following places:

About Angela

Angela Tucker is a writer, director and producer.

She was the Director of Production at Big Mouth Films, a social issue documentary production company. There, she produced several award winning documentaries including Pushing the Elephant (PBS’ Independent Lens) about a Congolese mother and daughter separated over 12 years . She received her MFA in Film from Columbia University where she was awarded a Dean’s Fellowship.

She has a BA from Wesleyan in Theater and African American Studies and an MFA in Film Studies from Columbia.

Angela’s work has been featured in The Guardian, Time Magazine, Film Independent, The Root, Turnstyle,The Rumpus, Variety, About.com, and Salon, among many other media outlets.

Here are some excerpts from our chat:

On Intention and Commitment

I asked her if she feels that her daily life is filled with risk: creative, social, financial, career, or otherwise? Her response:
“I made a decision a long time ago to be a filmmaker. When I made that decision, I just stopped thinking about risk. I went to film school at Columbia, and it is very very very expensive. You have to borrow a lot of money.”

“When I got in, I remember thinking, “I don’t know, this is really crazy. I talked to my dad about it, and he said, ‘Well, I guess you are going to have to make it.’ There was something about him just saying it that way. That, if I am going to undergo this financial risk, then I am just going to have to do this thing that I say I want to do.”

“I think I have operated from that moment forward that, this is the thing that I say I am doing with my life, so I’m just going to operate in such a way to make that happen. I just proceed from that decision on a project by project basis.”

It was ironic to me how at the point in which one would be most uncertain as to the direction they want to go, considering film school, that the cost is so incredibly high right up front. That you have to go way into debt, just as you are learning what this industry is, how it operates, and if it is right for you. I asked her about navigating her decision to make such a big financial commitment:

“I just go with my gut. If I really thought about it, it’s a crazy thing. You are borrowing a lot of money to go into a profession that very few people make any money in. But I also didn’t really feel like there was another way for me to do it. Different people get into filmmaking in different ways, but I knew that I needed the time to learn the craft, and really be focused on that.”

Then Angela said something that really resonated with what I hear from so many others:
“I’m the kind of person who works really hard in whatever I do, so if I tried to work a full time job, and learn film on the side, it would have never happened. I would have made my full time job my career.”

She knew that a career whose goal was to pay the bills was a trap for her. That she would fall prey to its clutches. This is how many people’s career evolves: they take a job as a short-term fix, but then find they never take the risk to move on from it.

Angela embraced that risk up front — the cost of her film school education — because she knew herself well enough to know that a day job would become her main focus, taking her energy away from film. She continues…

“Once I decided I had to do it [film school], I just tried to be as smart as I can be about borrowing money, because some people went really nuts. They got as much as they could. I was smarter about that, and got some scholarship help, which helped me justify it. I could be borrowing a lot more money. It was a big risk, but I didn’t feel that I had another option.”

Overall, I love how both she and her father made such a strong commitment, even in the face of great risk.

Making the Transition from School to Career

“I was very fortunate. When I was done with classes, I got an internship at this production company called Big Mouth Productions, they make social issue documentaries. I got an internship doing audience engagement work around this documentary around transracial adoption. I helped setup screenings at colleges and universities, which was a good fit because I wasn’t that far from that college and university time.”

“From there, they were working on a new project, and it was easy to say, ‘Hey, consider me for this new project,’ and so I started out doing some research, and was eventually hired in a part-time way, then later in a full-time way as an associate producer on this documentary on the death penalty. It really started out from an internship that turned into a job. It wasn’t a very lucrative job, but it was a way to make a living doing what I really wanted to do.”

“It was very freelance-y. Like, ‘Okay, we have enough money to keep you on for these weeks, and then we would get to that point and some other job would come in. That went on for a long time, for a year or year and a half. Then we got enough funding so I could be there in a more long-term way. Once the film premiered at Sundance and was bought, I was put on staff.”

It struck me how tenuous it was, just for her to make her way into the lowest paying job in a low paying industry.

“You are just begging and begging and begging for this opportunity for them to pay you a little bit more money than you need to live. But I knew a lot of my classmates were not even able to work in the industry, so I really understood how fortunate I was, being able to develop skills. There was a lot I learned in film school, but a lot I didn’t learn. If I hadn’t had this job, I wouldn’t have learned a lot.”

“[In school] you are thinking about yourself as an artist, but you are not necessarily thinking about what you need to know in terms of fundraising, or how to pitch your project. I learned all of that in this job.”

“In film school, we focused on story and the basics of direction. The being in the field stuff, you learn by working on different projects.”

“I worked at this production company for 8 years. From intern AP to director of production. That taught me a lot about how to manage a lot of different projects and a lot of different people. The way were were able to make movies would be to have some funding from PBS or a foundation; other times we had films that had no funding, and we would have to figure out how to do a paid gig.”

“I was in charge of managing that with the executive director the company. When I left to work for myself, I had that skill set. It boils down to keeping a project that covers my basic expenses, so I’m not worry about my rent. Sometimes it’s a thing I love to do, and sometimes it’s not. Once I have that covered, then I feel like I can be more creative, because I’m not worried.”

“I like to find projects with like-minded people, who also have something to teach me. I try to work on things that will make me a better director. I’m on sets, I work with a lot of different crew, and then these are people who may be able to work on other projects with me. It’s juggling a lot of different things.”

“I probably have too many things going on at any one time, but I’m very good at delegating. When I feel that way, I try to bring on people who can help me. So I would think: these tasks together are tasks that someone else could do, and they are tasks that someone would find interesting to do at X rate. That really helps take something off my plate and give me room.”

I asked her about interpersonal issues that may crop up in managing so many collaborative projects at once:
“It’s a timing issue. There is always a moment when you think, ‘Okay, I’ve planned this really well, and Project A is slowing down, and Project B is ramping up. There is always the moment where it isn’t the case, and where A and B are both very intense, and one project feels that its getting slighted.”

“That has come up for me, especially when you are producing for a director, they want to feel like their project is the top priority. If you are working part time on their project, and part time on something else, it can’t always be. There has been friction around that, and I have understood it. I’ve gotten good at opening the lines of communication around it. It usually boils down to me working like a maniac for awhile to make both projects feel like I’m 100% on it, even though I’m working on two different projects.

“It’s also helpful that I have worked with the same people for a very long time.”

Getting Funding

“Every project is going to have the money problem. Making media that is dealing with complicated issues is not exactly the thing that a rich person is going to write you a really big check for right away. The documentary industry, there is funding, but in the beginning you have to do it on your own.”

“It’s really difficult to get development money, people want to see something. In the beginning [of a project], you use your own money or Kickstarter. Pretty much everyone does that. Even huge filmmakers, when they go into development, they will probably use money they earned from their last sale to develop the new project. Unless you are very fortunate to have unique access to a big event happening in the world, you are probably going to have to put together your own money to get something started so that someone can see what you are talking about.”

“Once you make that development piece [a trailer or video of a few scenes], sometimes that is enough to trigger more money. Sometimes you still need to shoot some more.”

So she has to make an investment before she can even approach someone else to invest in her project.

I asked her what scale of money we were talking about here. She said that she knows people that do documentaries for $50,000, which is incredibly difficult, and others who can do it for $100,000. But most are in the $300,000 – $400,000 range, of course with many others costing far more. She said you have to ask yourself, “You have this idea, but what are the financial realities of this idea. Is this an idea in another city and state? Do I have to follow around multiple people? If you are following the story of someone who lives across the street from you, you are going to be able to make that film a lot more quickly [and therefore: cheaply], because you have constant access to them, and you don’t have to travel. But… who does that?”

Then she said something huge, that perfectly encapsulated how one navigates that gap between one’s creative vision and the realities of making it happen:

“It’s not just what film you want to make, it’s what film can you make.”

Pursuing Creative Work, and Its Affect on Relationships”

“The place I feel like I’ve really risked, and I’m really grappling with, is my personal life. My ability to be in a relationship and have time for that. Have children. That is why I moved from New York City [to New Orleans]; being so career focused, I was starting to be someone who had no other quality of life. I don’t want to be someone who wakes up one day and is like, ‘Sure, I am very successful in my career, but I haven’t really had the kind of relationships that I want to have.’ That to me is the risk you take around picking a field that you really love, but I am really working on the work/life balance now. Prioritizing that has been the biggest risk I have taken in a really long time.”

She went on to describe the difference of living in New Orleans:

  • It’s cheaper to live in NO, so she doesn’t have to work as much to live.
  • There is a slower pace.
  • She is surrounded my more artists.
  • ‘Career’ means less to many people she knows down there. It isn’t talked about as much.
  • She had lived in New York her whole life, and wanted to live somewhere else as “a different kind of person.”

Thank you to Angela for making the time to meet with me. You can find her online at:

Thank you!
-Dan

3 Key Ways That Hiring Employees is Helping My Business Grow

Last year, I shared two blog posts about my process for hiring three interns. I wanted to check in on how things have evolved since that time — continuing this as a behind-the-scenes case study.

In June 2014, I talked about my intention to hire an intern, the process to do so, and how I ended up hiring three people instead of just one.

In August, I wrote an update on how we worked together.

Since that time, this is what has happened with each of the interns:

  • Diane Krause stayed on board after the summer, gradually working more and more hours, getting a new title (Project Coordinator). Way more on my process with her below.
  • Rachel Burns went back to school and has been pulled in here and there for some specific projects. I have told Diane that she can put Rachel on any project she likes, and I’m hopeful that Rachel can do a lot more with us again this coming summer.
  • Kathi Gadow landed a great job with DK Publishing, while she also pursues her Masters degree. We stay in contact, but I haven’t really reached out to her with new projects recently, simply because I have been focusing on my work with Diane, and because I feel like Kathi has been busy with her day job and school.
  • Lorraine Watson is a newer collaborator. She took one of my courses last year and was wonderfully helpful in the student discussion forums online. She shared positive reinforcement to other students, helpful advice, and created little systems to manage the most helpful threads in the chats. I loved having her in the class, and this year she has been the official teaching assistant in two courses.

Without Collaborators, I Can’t Grow

Not too long ago, I interviewed artist and baker Andrea Lekberg. As we explored her decisions in opening up her own shop, I asked her why she didn’t just open up the shop with zero staff, taking on the role of baking and serving by herself. Her response was, “If you have a business so small that you are doing everything, then you don’t have time to think about growing it. You can’t grow. You are always behind and overwhelmed. We started out so that we could hopefully succeed.”

Her answer hit me like a ton of bricks, which is usually how her wisdom hits me. So often, we worry about what there is to lose in taking a risk to hire help. Now that isn’t all bad, because hiring is inherently a commitment to another person, and that can’t be entered into lightly. Hiring is a commitment.

I thought it was important to pay the interns I hired, but again and again, people told me that they didn’t apply for the money, they applied for the experience. They felt a huge gap between where they were, and how they see me — that somehow I am able to be the sole income provider for my family, even though we live in New Jersey, a notoriously expensive state to live in. My interns were interested in gaining insight into what my process looks like on a day-to-day basis.

And I can’t blame them — when I started out, that is what I desperately wanted to know as well!

Several months back, I told Diane: Work however many hours you can; if it becomes too much for me to afford, I’ll let you know. Since that time, I haven’t worried about paying her for one minute, because I think that the value she provides is so worth it to me personally, and my business.

Oddly, like so much of what I have found as an entrepreneur, it doesn’t feel even 1% risky, even though “on paper,” it should. In fact, the only things I think about are:

  • How can I get Diane to work more hours?
  • How can I bring on a second employee that Diane manages?
  • When can I give her another raise?

Because Diane is awesome. And with Diane, I can feel the quality of what I do improve, and I can feel myself (and my business) grow.

My Work Can’t Improve or Expand Without Established Processes

So much of my work with this team has been about establishing processes around my products, services, and communication. For example:

1. How we launch a course, the specific steps
2. How I communicate with clients
3. How I can better serve my readers

As our work evolved, Diane and I tried out a few systems to better manage projects so that they existed less on shared Dropbox folders and in email attachments, and more in a system that would scale for a true business that can expand its team.

Asana was the first system we embraced. It is project management software that helps us keep tabs on projects, but also create step-by-step systems for a variety of tasks. We looked at a lot of project management options last summer, including many of the obvious choices: Basecamp, Salesforce, and others, but settled on Asana because it just seemed to feel right. Basecamp was a bit too “simple” for how we liked to work; Salesforce a bit too complex. Asana has worked well for us, but in our research, I talked to people who raved about many other systems, including Basecamp and Salesforce. As usual, there isn’t one “best” tool, just the tool that works best for you.

Recently, on a whim, we tried the group messaging service Slack. This didn’t start out as a formal need or solution, just something I saw mentioned a lot online, so I set up an account.

It turns out we LOVE Slack and use it every single day now. Slack primarily manages our conversations around projects we are working on. I basically view it as text messaging with a business structure. We are always having informal conversations in Slack. While we will text on our phones too, that always feels a little invasive for me. I want to respect boundaries (Diane may be attending to other work, or personal stuff).

Because of Slack, we are using email less and less, which feels AWESOME. In my courses, I work with creative professionals to stop using email as a catch-all for their tasks, communication, and calendar.

Diane and I used to have formal weekly check-in calls, but we stopped doing that. For one, it removed a meeting from my calendar, which felt good. Fewer meetings means more “white space” in my life to focus on what matters that day. It’s worth noting, that as I write this, Diane and I have used Slack to set our work priorities for the morning, and are now chatting about our favorite ice cream brands. It genuinely feels like she is right across the table from me, yet she is in her home in Texas, and I am in a Starbucks in New Jersey. Yay internet!

Yet, we communicate more frequently because of Slack, and will hop on the phone during the week when it makes sense, such as to brainstorm, to tell a story, to just check-in informally.

I Have Less Anxiety (and More Effective Ways of Dealing with Anxiety When it Does Crop Up)

Let’s talk about mental health for a moment. Now, this is a broad topic that can be defined in many ways, but in this context, let’s focus on ANXIETY around work.

When I first began considering starting my own company, I reached out to entrepreneurs I knew and interviewed them about their experiences. What I heard again and again was this phrase: “rollercoaster of emotions.” How one day they will feel on top of the world, and the next that they have totally ruined their family’s finances.

When you pursue your own venture as a creative professional, this can happen in a myriad of ways on any given day. What I find is that having a team helps me feel that things are on a stable track each week.

  • In establishing processes in a collaborative manner, I am less likely to feel that I missed something obvious. Before I launch something, members of the team will have provided feedback, catching simple mistakes, missed opportunities, or potential threats. Diane now edits nearly everything I send out, catching loads of small errors that I make in my writing.
  • When specific situations come up, I can discuss them with someone with whom I have a professional relationship and is integrated deeply with my work. These are rarely “big” situations; but typically tiny things which trigger anxiety. A comment on a blog post, an email, a conflict in schedule. It’s hard to describe how good it feels to be able to talk in detail with someone whose opinion I respect so much.

I suppose that these are also part of the reasons why I didn’t feel that hiring a “virtual assistant” should be my first hires, as others suggest. It’s nice having someone who (even though she works remotely) is truly a part of the team, and not someone whose hours I am buying through a VA clearinghouse. There is an emotional investment and a sense of trust that changes the relationship entirely. Diane is a true collaborator on so many things. And it is my goal to expand her role and continue to bring in other collaborators.

A note here: Yes, there are other roles that people play in my life who give advice — colleagues, mentors, and others who can provide keen advice when needed. But the difference between those people and a team is that I only want to ask a mentor or colleague for advice when it is truly needed, not because I am having a moment of anxiety about something small.

I am about to announce that I am hiring an intern for this coming summer (sneak peak!), and when Diane and I discussed our needs, she brought up the idea of just finding someone via Elance. While I have nothing against Elance, I think I may have cut Diane off before she even finished the sentence with my gut feeling of, “No. We are building a team, not hiring freelancers.”

Is that the right move for every business? No!!! There are loads of success stories of hiring freelancers, using Elance, and various other ways of getting help. Use the one that works well for you.

Have you been considering how employees can help you grow? If so, what are your hesitations? Do you have other advice on how to begin hiring a team? Please share below!

Thanks.
-Dan

Behind the Scenes of My Podcasting & Interview Process

Since I announced my book Dabblers vs. Doers a few months ago, I have been in a process of research for the book that includes interviews with various creative professionals. I decided to share that primary research live as it happens via a podcast and accompanying blog posts. Just look at these awesome people I have spoken to so far:

interviewees2_600

Today, I want to give you a behind-the-scenes look at that process.

Who I choose to interview

When I first considered doing interviews as part of the research for my book, a few names popped into my head right away. Some were people I knew, others were not. In general, I find myself focusing on creative professionals who are mid-career; those who have found some success and are working hard to balance the drive to create meaningful work with the difficult demands of that process. These are also people who have figured out how to live a healthy life outside of work itself.

In other words, I wanted to talk about their struggle in that place where these things break down. Because “doing it all” is a process, not a destination, and the reality of that is what my book is all about. How we take personal risks in our professional journey.

I sought people from a wide variety of fields, each broadly defined as a “creative professional.” So far, I have spoken to:

In reviewing this list, what becomes immediately apparent to me is how difficult it is to define each of these people with a single role. Each person, even just professionally, assumes many roles.

As I conducted each of these early interviews, I found that we went deep in so many ways, but that one narrative seemed to jump out at me for each. Some have discussed coping with deep depression, or working through their experience of being an extreme introvert, with learning disabilities, among so many other deeply personal topics.

After I did about 10 interviews, I began asking a handful of friends who else they recommend I interview. That immediately produced a list of 5-10 suggestions (which I am still working through).

But then those names produced even more recommendations. I nearly always ask an interviewee if they have suggestions for someone else I should interview. So now I am working three degrees away from where I began: asking a friend who I should interview, interviewing that person, now interviewing someone that person recommends.

It’s so cool to dig in deeply with these people, but also to make so many new connections! I created a spreadsheet to track ideas of who to reach out to, and my status of each of those leads or requests.

How I reach out to them

I created an invitation template that I send to each person I hope to interview. It covers the following:

  • The “ask” – would they be willing to be interviewed on a certain topic, and why I asked them in particular
  • A request for an hour of their time, either in person or via Skype
  • Full disclosure that my interview will be recorded via video and audio
  • Explanation of how this will be shared in the near term (podcast, blog post, social media)
  • Connection to my book, that this interview will ideally be integrated into that

When inviting someone, the barriers I am most concerned about are:

  • The ask is too convoluted. So I try to keep it short. One line on my book, one line on why I want to chat with them, short but specific bullets outlining what I would like from them.
  • That they will think this book (or I) am irrelevant to them and their work.

Generally, people respond to me and most have said ‘yes.’ There are a few people who never replied back. Which is a bummer, though I understand that they are busy, and likely have a long list of incoming emails.

What has surprised me is that some of the people I reached out to are pretty much famous, and they are the ones who have responded to me the quickest. Like, within hours of my request.

From this group, the ones who answered yes sent me replies that were short and filled with action. Literally a single sentence without a greeting or signature. Something like: “Would love to, as long as we can do it at my office during lunch. May 5th works.”

This surprised me, and what I find is that people who are busy are used to making quick, action-oriented decisions. They manage a lot of decisions, a lot of people, and are simply in the habit of checking their phone while waiting for coffee — making a decision, communicating it, and managing their ever-changing calendar.

Those who are very well-known, but said ‘no’ to my request, clearly had a process in place, and a pre-written messaging. For example: “Hi Dan, Thank for the kind offer, but I’m saying no to everything right now while I finish my current book. Good luck with the project, it sounds interesting!”

Again, this surprised me because they are clearly so proactive in dealing with their limits. So many people I meet say they are overwhelmed, and I think that embracing and coping with limits is a key way to not feel that as much.

One very cool part of this process is that I am learning from these people — the ones who say yes, the ones who say no, and even those who don’t respond. I will absolutely follow up with the ones who don’t respond, though. A single email could easily get lost, or arrive at exactly the worst moment. I have loads of empathy for how much each of these creative professionals juggles in their personal and professional lives.

As for why people say yes, I’m never fully clear about that. My gut is that it’s nice to have someone ask you for your wisdom. For instance, there is NO REASON why Tina Roth Eisenberg should have said yes to me. I asked her about this, and she said that I did a good job of connecting with her via social media, and she made a split-second decision to just invest in karma (my words, not hers). That she knows spending an hour of time with me could, in some way, have a wonderful, serendipitous effect months or years down the road.

When I reached out to Jeremy Chernick, the special effects designer, I was well aware of how busy his life is. He got back to me within hours, and met up with me just a week after I reached out. The day we met, he was incredibly busy, and literally running into our meeting, and running out of it. RUNNING. Yet, he gave a gracious and deeply personal interview in the 50 minutes he did spend with me.

Why did Jeremy say yes? I have no idea other than that I came to him via a mutual friend. Jeremy had every reason in the world to say “No thanks, I’m busy,” or even to cancel our meeting the morning of.

But what I observed was that a big part of Jeremy’s life is to make meaning around the work that he does, to help others understand the reality behind special effects and the work of the company he works for. Perhaps he was asked three years ago to be in charge of public relations for his company. Perhaps he just enjoys that role. Perhaps it was another reason. Regardless, he left me deeply impressed at every moment of my communication with him. The speed and the depth.

How I research interviewees and prepare questions

My research process can be described in one word: OBSESSION. I obsess over these interviewees. By the time I actually speak to them, I have not only become a fan, I have read every word about them that I can find, and have nagging questions about portions of their lives that were opaque to me in the research.

It’s weird, but I feel like I’m sitting down with a celebrity, because I have ‘lived with them’ for days in my research, and now here they are, just across the table from me, and I’M ALLOWED TO ASK THEM ANYTHING!

As I research, I begin with basic Google searches on their name. I explore every link I can find, every rabbit hole I can possibly fall into. So if that person has a website, I click every single link on it that I can find.

I will do Google searches that have date limits on them, such as ONLY looking for mentions of their name online prior to 2006, before social media, or before their most recent job.

If I find other interviews they participated in (text, audio, or video), I study them. I read every article about them I can find, and as much as possible, every blog entry and social media update. More on that last one below.

It’s worth pointing out that the themes I am focused on are very particular. I want to explore the personal/professional challenges they navigated as they embraced the idea of risk in their career.

I don’t focus on how they create their work. If I am interviewing a painter, yes, it is nice background to understand their painting process, but I won’t be asking any questions about this in my interview.

I don’t focus on stories I have heard before. I always ask for a 40-minute interview, and I want to use that time to explore themes and stories I have not heard them discuss elsewhere. I will sometimes take a single quote from another interview, and use that as the basis for an entire line of questioning.

I don’t focus on accolades or big achievements. Again and again, I find myself focusing not on their biggest success, but about a period of their lives that was much earlier in the journey. For instance, when I interviewed Jeremy Chernick, I focused very little on his most recent work in the new Broadway musical Aladdin. Instead, I was SUPER excited to hear about a road trip he took when he graduated college.

In short, in my research I am looking for the gaps, for the things that aren’t often discussed.

For instance, in researching artist Eric Wert, there were PLENTY of great articles on his artistic process. Not only is it not the focus of my book, but because of these articles, that itch has been scratched. I want to dig into areas that others haven’t.

I try to read every social media update that is available, and tend to find the gold when I go as far back as possible. I will friend them on Facebook and scroll back, post by post, year by year. Same with Twitter, Instagram, etc. It’s not enough to just quickly scroll through Instagram photos; I read the updates.

Oftentimes, I dig even further, not just reading all the old Facebook posts, but reading the comments as well. The Facebook status update may mention them feeling creative anxiety, but the comment thread with friends may be where they provide more useful context.

Recently, I realized I need to do even better at this. For one interviewee, Tammy Greenberg, she had blogged since 2005 — a huge archive. I didn’t go through every post and sure enough, something from years ago came up in our interview. She said “I blogged about it,” and I missed it in my research. It was SUCH a perfect example of the topic I am exploring, I am just thankful she brought it up. I now spend even more time researching because of this.

What I find is that for each person, there is one channel that seems to deliver more gold than others. For some, it is their Facebook updates, for others Twitter, and for others, it is listening to interviews they recorded or shared with other media outlets. Every time I hit a dead end in research, I keep looking and nearly always find a thread that leads somewhere good. That is often at minute 39 of listening to an interview with the subject, after hours of research. They say something that aligns with the topics I am focused on, and a light bulb goes off.

What is the result of the research? To ask better questions, to have a literacy of the person and their experience so that my time with them is not spent asking questions that have already been answered. It is my goal to dig deep into the emotional stuff that often isn’t talked about publicly. I can only do that if I have as complete an understanding of that person as possible.

How I prepare for the interview itself

I have shared in-depth posts about my podcasting equipment here and here.

In preparing for the actual interview, a big focus is to set expectations with the interviewee. I let them know any technical details they need to be aware of:

  • For Skype interviews, close all other programs so that we have more bandwidth for audio/video.
  • For in-person interviews, please don’t tap on the table when making a point, because it comes up as loud noises in the microphone.
  • Please turn off their cell phone.
  • I test audio levels, and ask them to be sure to speak directly into their microphone.

I have a checklist, and a big item is to indeed remember to click the ‘record’ button. I do backup recordings as well. Checklists are a critical part of a process such as this. If I am interviewing someone in Brooklyn, it will have taken two hours to reach them, days of research, and it is entirely possible that I could miss that single — but critical — step of pressing the ‘record’ button.

I also restate other expectations with the interviewee. That this interview will indeed be recorded via audio and video, and that the master audio file will be shared publicly in a week or two. I confirm that we will chat for 40 minutes. I review the topic focus again (navigating risk in their career), and I let them know that — at any point — if I ask a question that is too personal, they can just redirect me. I also tell them that if, once the the interview is over, they shared something they now regret, that I will gladly edit out of the final interview.

For the interview itself — the moment after I click ‘record’ — I have found that it is good to engage them in the topic early on, because they also give me signs of opportunities for further exploration around the topic. For example, I would rarely bring up a topic like depression with someone unless they bring it up first. I do NOT want to pry where my queries aren’t wanted. So I look for topics, but also for where they are WELCOMING me to open up lines of questions.

When I arrive to interview someone, I immediately begin setting up my equipment, and can have it all prepared and ready to go within five minutes. When the interview ends, even though the person is usually still having polite conversation with me, I rush to pack up my stuff and leave. I always want to be respectful of their time, and never ever take up more than an hour total for the interview, including setup and saying farewell.

How I prepare for the interview dialog itself

I do not have a set list of questions, even for an individual interview. I have COPIOUS notes that have general topic areas to explore, but no specific questions.

The conversation itself is an exploration, and it often goes wildly off-script, which is exactly what I want.

As I move through an interview, I am looking for that one quote, that one topic, that one insight that exposes a challenge with incredible honestly. I can feel myself exhale when that moment happens. And to be honest, in most interviews, that feeling happens multiple times. When someone shares something so REAL, so honest, that I know that this will resonate with others.

How I review the material to glean key insights

As I said at the beginning of this post, all of these interviews are research for my book Dabblers vs. Doers. I have found that the act of sharing the interviews via blog and podcast has helped me better consider how stories from the interviews can be integrated into the book.

I transcribe the interviews myself, and I’ve found that this has a dual focus:

  1. Making it useful and accessible to others via a blog post and podcast.
  2. Reviewing the material for use in the book itself. It’s nice to do it days after the interview, instead of waiting months and doing this later during the writing process.

It is also really useful to see which interviewees and which topics resonate with my audience — those who listen to the podcast and read the blog post. That is the kind of real-time feedback that will only make the book stronger in the long run.

Okay, that is nearly 3,000 words on my research/interview process, and I still feel as though I have left stuff out!

Please let me know if you have advice on how to improve my process.

Thanks so much.
-Dan