Getting Radical Clarity

There is this video I’ve watched a bunch of times this week, where centenarians — those who lived past 100 years old — are interviewed. In the video, they consider what they have created, and wisdom they would share with others. So much of it is about appreciating your connection to others. To spend time with your parents and relatives if you they are still around. To invest in closeness to others. To not be reluctant to ask for help when you need it.

I think I kept watching this video because it reminds me of what I think many writers and artists need in their life.

To consider what matters most to them, and what they create for others in the world.

How true deep connections with real people matters more than faceless “followers.”

How assessing progress allows you to consider where you have been and where you want to go.

This is reflected in an email I received this week from author Dawn Downey. She has been a member of my mastermind group, and she shared an update on what she has been focused on recently:

Dawn Downey

“Thought I’d give you an update on my creative shift—changing my marketing emphasis from gathering new fans to deepening relationships with current fans.”

“Last year at one of my readings, a woman named Janet fell in love with my writing. She insisted if I were ever in her hometown, I should stay with her. A year later there’s a book fair in her hometown, a two-hour drive from mine. I emailed her and asked if I could spend a couple nights with her. She gave me a wildly enthusiastic yes.”

“Janet lives on several hundred acres down a gravel road, about fifteen minutes from town. Because she wasn’t attending the book festival, I had planned to drive back into town for the kick-off event (mingle and munch), but she drove me there. She then introduced me to the woman who’d organized the festival and to the editor of an anthology produced to raise money for it. (Small town, they all know each other.) While I was talking with someone else, I overheard Janet lobbying for me to be recruited as a speaker for next year’s festival.”

“Saturday morning I got up to drive to the day-long festival. Janet had already packed me a lunch, snacks and a bottle of water, because she’d noticed the schedule had no lunch break. She drove me there in the morning and picked me up at the end of the day. Instead of asking how she could help, she simply helped. She was a combination mom and publicist!”

“I was encouraged by the weekend. Letting go of marketing and sales outcomes, focusing on relationships. What’s hard is this: I’ve not found other writers in my community who encourage me down this path or understand what the heck I’m doing. I certainly have no quantifiable measures for success. But my gut is saying keep going.”

I love what Dawn shares here! This is the type of stuff I talk about in my book Be the Gateway, and in my Creative Shift Mastermind. To me, there are two huge insights to what she shares:

  • Creative work should lead to personal fulfillment, and connection to others. Your work changes you, and changes others. That is clearly what is happening here with Dawn, with Janet, with the festival.
  • More people know of Dawn and her writing, and in the best possible context: not as a “promoted Tweet,” but as a true human connection, an introduction to her art in a supportive community. There are probably dozens of others that Dawn engaged with that weekend who appreciated meeting her and were introduced to her writing in the best possible way.

But beyond this is that Dawn has established a practice to share her work, to connect with readers.

Last week I shared a phrase that I use a lot with writers and artists I work with: RADICAL CLARITY. I was astounded at the positive reaction that people had to that, so I began creating something of a manifesto around it:

To get RADICAL CLARITY, you need:

To acknowledge that you are a creator, and you have permission to create. Not only that, but you have to accept that the world needs what you create. That you are ready to be seen and heard as a creator.

To know exactly what you create and why. You have to answer this because without it, you will stop when things get hard. You have to be able to explain why this work means so much to you, and why someone will love it. Don’t cop out with an answer such as “I just want to entertain people!” Writing and art changes lives. Be clear how it is changing yours, and the potential it has to change someone else’s.

To understand the ideal person who you hope to reach. This is not some vague demographic. It is a real person with a name, a face, a lifetime of experiences, and someone searching for what you create.

To show up for your creative work. To establish the practices and processes that ensure you show up day in and day out, even when things feel difficult.

To put craft first,  always improve your skills. Your growth as a writer and artist relies on the mastery of your skills, and seeking personal growth through honing them.

To understand that success requires collaboration. Your work dies in isolation. When you collaborate, you are no longer swayed by the winds of trends, of negative anxiety that may drive you, of making incorrect assumptions about process. If you don’t have colleagues to help you along the way, you are destined to always be an amateur.

To have a safe place to work through challenges. This is a support system of coaches, colleagues, and collaborators who hold you accountable to your creative vision.

To connect with others on a one-to-one human level. Connecting your work to others should be a process of deep connection, not one of trying to amass faceless followers, judging your success on likes and reshares. It is about connecting through writing and art, and how that changes someone.

To extend this, I have also been sharing daily reflections on how to double-down on your creative work on my Instagram feed:

I want to encourage you to consider how you invest in your own creative process and how you connect your work to others in a deeply human way. How can RADICAL CLARITY give you greater fulfillment in your writing and art?

Thanks.

-Dan

PS: Here is the link to the video on those who lived past 100.

5 Things I Learned By Writing Every Day For A Year

One year ago, I began writing my next book. I added a daily commitment to my calendar at 5:30am, seven days a week; it said simply: “Write.”

Here I am, nearly 365 days later, having written every day.

The results? Both ordinary and astounding. I want to share what I have learned in this past year:

#1: Keep Your Creative Vision on Life Support

In truth, I feel like every day, I wrote the minimum amount of words. Some days, inspiration would hit and I would write more. Other days I pushed through resistance — these were the days that I didn’t feel an ounce of inspiration, and writing was more an obligation. Many days, I wrote a paragraph then moved on to other things.

I remember hearing this expression from someone in my mastermind group: “life support” as a way of valuing small actions of creating. The idea is that when you do a small amount of writing each day, you keep your writing alive.

The result of small steps every day? Okay, I was blown away when I added this up. From what I can tell, I have written:

  • 38,000 words for the next book
  • 25,000 words for the book after that
  • Plus: 41,000 words in blog posts.

The prompt to “WRITE” first thing each morning only applied to writing my books, never to blogs, but it was still astounding to include that number.

Honestly, there were many days where it felt like I was failing at writing. Failing at putting words on the page. Days where I wrote the bare minimum, and felt like maybe I was an impostor.

Yet, taking a small creative action every day really adds up.

#2 The Act of Creating Can be a Boring Rote Exercise, and That’s Fine

Every day when I sat down to write, I took a photo of myself:

Dan Writing

I have 365 of these, but I’ll spare you having to look at them all! Do you know what this looks like to me? A nightmare. It looks like Bill Murray in the movie Groundhog Day, where every day is exactly the same.

Now, in truth, I love routine. But I took these photos and shared them each day on social media to make a point: creative work isn’t always exhilarating, beautiful, and fun. Very often, it is work.

Many of the days where I wrote, I may have felt completely unmotivated to write, yet the time of day, the context, the expression on my face was the same as the day before.

I was showing up for my creative vision. Period.

#3 It Was Just As Easy to Create, As It Was to Not Create

This is perhaps the biggest revelation in looking back on a year of writing every day. It was as easy to have created as it would have been to not create.

I can easily remember one year ago as if it was yesterday. It is easy to consider that a year would pass without making a dent in my biggest creative goals: writing. Why? Because life is busy. Looking back, if I didn’t have all the photos, I may easily overlook that writing every day was a wonderful accomplishment. That I easily could have spent those early morning hours checking email instead.

But I wrote.

And really, how difficult was it to write every day? Not very difficult at all.

#4 Progress is Better than Perfect

Beyond sheer word count, what progress did I make in my writing? Well, midway through the year I realized that I was actually writing two books, not one. That insight gave me a lot of clarity. I aligned the books to form a series:

  1. Book #1: Which I am writing now and will hopefully publish this year.
  2. Book #2: Be the Gateway which I published in 2017.
  3. Book #3: Which I will publish in 2019 or 2020.

This clarity felt huge for me. It allowed me to clearly understand how to dive deep into certain topics, and then zoom out to see how everything fits together.

When I work with people in my mastermind, we begin with this concept of Radical Clarity. To have found it for my writing feels like a big achievement. Making progress, even if it doesn’t quote feel like perfection.

#5 One Habit Encourages Another

I used the daily habit of writing to start another creative daily habit: properly learning how to play the guitar. I started this late last year, and have now practiced the guitar every day since mid-December.

To make it easy, I keep a guitar in my studio as well as one in my home office. I just added a third one to my living room.

For 25 years, I dabbled with the guitar, but never properly learned how to play it. In the past few months, I’ve made more progress in truly building my skills and understanding of the instrument than I did in the previous quarter century.

Wow, just writing that feels unbelievable. But it’s true. That is the power of a small daily creative habit.

If you could establish one creative habit for a year, what would it be?

-Dan

Forming Creative Community. Exploring the Terrain Beyond the Limits of Social Media

Illustrator and writer Meera Lee Patel chatted with me recently about the value of having a creative community. For years, she worked alone on her craft in her apartment. But recently, she joined a shared studio space. This is how she describes the shift:

“It is the first time in my life that I have a creative community. The most valuable thing is not feeling alone. It’s helpful to have feedback, to not constantly be in my head, to be in the dark about what is standard, and not only be reading forums.”

“To have real life advice and really people who are willing to help and be generous with their time. It’s just brought a whole facet of joy to my life that I didn’t have.”

“Community is joy. It is happiness. I feel connected. I feel heard and seen. This community has been really healthy for me as a person. As a freelancer it has been great and nourishing and supportive, but I will say as a person, I feel a lot better off than I used to be.”

“I think that for other creative people out there who feel alone or frustrated with their work, I would just say, your not. If you can just reach out to people and build a community for yourself, it has been life-changing for me. I think it would be the same for others.”

As I listened to her words, I had something of a eureka moment. Because I have been obsessed with the idea of a creative community for awhile now. For the past few years, I have run more than a dozen Creative Shift Mastermind groups for writers and artists. The results I have seen are similar to what Meera describes above.

A writer who just went through a three month Mastermind with me summarized the experience this way:

“I thought I’d signed up for the Mastermind to get my career back on track. Seems like we’ve delved into getting my whole life onto a better track.” – Kimberli Bindschatel

Another framed it this way:

“In each of the last two Mastermind sessions I have gone through profound creative growth. I learned new things about myself, making experiential, intellectual and emotional connections that surprised me and enriched me.” – Simon Maple

And another talked about how it changed the way she sees the world:

“Dan’s Mastermind helped me look at the world, and my creative work, with an experimental mindset.” – Jan O’Hara

Did each of these people make clear progress on their creative work? Yes. But what all of these people indicate as well is that it enriched their lives in deeper ways.

More and more, I am doubling down on helping people feel a part of a creative community. Of connecting them to others, and in doing so, connecting them more deeply to their own creative work and personal fulfillment.

Yesterday I ran a small workshop, part of a series I have been doing called Studio Time. Here is a glimpse at some of the participants:

Even in that 1-day workshop, it was amazing how quickly the group came together and began supporting each other. The generosity and connection was immediate and consistent throughout the day. These people were in different corners of North America, from Canada to Florida, from the east coast to middle America. And here we are, forming a creative community.

This is a big part of the reason I have stopped teaching courses. I want everything I do to be about forging connections. I want to truly show up in the trenches with writers and artists every day. With the boom of online courses in the past 10 years, I feel something is often missing from them: true connection. A creative community. And to be honest, I don’t think shoving 1,000 people into a Facebook Group counts as a creative community. I’m not saying there can’t be value in a Facebook Group, I know many that are wonderful resources. But there are limits to what social media can provide when it comes to true connection and support. I want to explore the terrain beyond those limits.

I want to do more to help writers and artists make real progress with their craft, while feeling a part of something that supports them. The Creative Shift Mastermind and Studio Time workshops have been a good start, and I’m working hard to make them better and better.

What I would love to know from you is this: how could a creative community help you push forward with your creative vision? What would it have to bring into your life to get you to take a chance on joining it?

Please comment below or email me. That would mean a lot to me.
Thanks!
-Dan

P.S. You can hear my entire interview with Meera Lee Patel here. She shared so much wisdom, that I was just blown away.

In-Between Your Creative Vision

Heads up: I just announced my next Studio Time 1-day workshop. Join me to clearly identify who your ideal audience is. There are only 15 spots available. More info here.


 
I’ve been thinking about that place in-between. In-between your creative vision and your reality.

The thing about in-between is that you can see potential as easily as you can see failure. And perhaps most of all, you can see the status quo just continuing. This sense that you will spend a lifetime trying the same things and achieving the same mediocre results.

This is my desk in my studio:
Dan Blank

On the wall across from it, I hung photos of successful creators. These are writers, artists, and visionaries. I tried to choose photos of moments in-between. Moments when their greatness was still uncertain. Moments when they may have felt vulnerable or unsure.

Here is Fred Rogers in his college yearbook photo, and one of my favorite quotes from him:

Here is J.K. Rowling writing Harry Potter in a cafe:

Here is Walt Disney when he served in the Red Cross in 1918:

Here is designer Ray Eames working on one of her projects. So much of her process was about play as a part of finding solutions:

Then there is this article from 1974:

Why was the concert cancelled? It was going to be at a high school, but most of the students preferred to go to the beach that weekend. It’s easy to think that success for someone such as Springsteen is destiny. But that weekend in 1974, his show was cancelled because people weren’t interested.

Achieving greatness for each of these people was about showing up each day and giving it their best, even when it may have seemed like that wouldn’t be enough.

That is why I hung these photos in a place where I can look at them every day. So I can remember to focus on craft first. To have clarity in my creative vision. To work through the in-between.

The in-between can seem to last forever. For one of my friends, this week had nothing to do with in-between. Last Fall I wrote about my friend Jason Liles who is an actor. This week his new movie opens: Rampage, starring Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. Jason plays George, the white albino gorilla who appears in all the movie posters, and who in the movie is The Rock’s best friend. Jason had to study with primatologists and he performed through motion capture. Here they are the other day at the premiere:

Jason Liles and The Rock

When I interviewed Jason (listen to the whole interview here!) he told me about the challenges he overcame and how he broke into Hollywood. Highlights from the interview include:

  • He dealt with anxiety and panic attacks in middle school, high school and college. He actually had to leave college because of the the anxiety. Seeing how his entire line of work is about performing in front of an audience, this is astounding to me.
  • When he was just starting out, the director of theater program at a big school told Jason flat out, “You are too tall for film. Forget about it.” Jason is 6′ 9″ tall. How did he move ahead after such bad advice? He went to Broadway shows, waited outside the stage door and ask world famous actors such as Jame Gandolfini, Susan Sarandon, Geoffrey Rush, Jeff Daniels, and others: “Am I too tall for film?” Every one of them said, “Not at all. Just do it.” As it turns out, Jason’s height is a primary factor that is getting him so many of his roles.
  • He has this uncanny ability to spot and approach famous actors on the street and ask them for advice. An example, “Bryan Cranston talked for about 20 minutes giving me advice when I bumped into him in Central Park with his wife, because he knew I was a young actor.” He has done this with Michael Fassbender, Daniel Day Lewis, and others as well. To me, this was a reminder to use the opportunities that are all around you. Jason didn’t have any special access, and he didn’t let himself be constrained by perceived “rules” that you can’t approach people and ask them a question.
  • His first job was as a stand-in. Later on this, same company got him his his spot in Men in Black III as well as his first commercial. I can imagine Jason saying “no” to a stand-in role because it is too small. But if he had, he never would have gotten Men in Black III, never would have established his relationships with people who were critical to future roles in his career.
  • How he developed relationships in the film industry with this strategy: “I would do anything to get experience: student films, non-paying plays — anything.”
  • The thing that made all the difference for him: “The biggest thing that I did was to get to know people in the creature shops. Sometimes, the creature shops would be responsible for identifying the actor to play specific roles. Getting to know them, I can bypass producers, casting directors, and others. I learned who all the shops are, and keep in touch with them.” He encourages more people need to get involved in the business side of their creative profession. How, in his field, you can be an amazing actor who never gets work, because you never learn about how to make the right connections. Or vice versa, you can be a mediocre actor who always gets work because you understand how the business operates.
  • He got a recent big movie role by cold calling a “creature shop” in Hollywood. He tells the story: “They said they were too busy, call back in a couple months. Then the next week, on a Saturday, they called and asked what my availability was for the next four months, and if I could come in Monday morning. They had no idea who I was the week before. I said I was definitely free, because I was working at Outback Steakhouse full time when this happened.”

Jason reminds me that success often comes from a mixture of craft and gumption. He created opportunities for himself by picking up the phone, saying ‘yes’ to small jobs, and by simply caring about those around him.

If you are in-between and could use any kind of support or advice, email me and let me know how I can help. I know that sometimes, the difference between feeling lost and found can depend on just a few encouraging words of advice.

Thanks.
-Dan

The Return of Blogging

I’ve noticed something being talked about by some very successful writers and artists: blogging. Does that sound weird? As if I’m predicting the return of the pager and fax machine. Today I want to talk about how deep, long-term projects like blogs are being talked about as the solution to social media burnout that many people I know are experiencing.

Artist Jake Parker has put a renewed focused on his blog. He explains why:

“It was incredible to revisit old artwork and be reminded of my thought process back then. I may have gotten a little nostalgic, but more so I was reminded of what an engaging medium blogging is to to tackle subjects and share process.”

“I began to wonder why I ever abandoned my blog.”

“Then it hit me, I stopped blogging around the time I started using Instagram.”

“I exchanged the ease and glitz of social media for my lame-o blog that didn’t even show how many followers I had, and couldn’t tell me if people liked my post or not.”

“Social media has been great, and there’s a bah-jillion artists on there to follow. But I’ve been feeling this urge to engage in deeper ways with people online that I’m not getting that with tweets, grams, and status updates.”

When I do research for my podcast interviews, it is amazing to see the depth of material in blogs. For instance, artist Rebecca Green continues to blog, which she began years ago.

On her Instagram, it is easy to be distracted by the numbers: her 230,000+ followers and thousands of likes on each post. But on her blog, you see the complexity of her creative process, and the nuances of her creative vision.

Elise Blaha Cripe has cataloged her creative process on her blog for more than 12 years. This adds up to more than 3,000 posts. You can track, week by week her journey from college to running her own successful small business. In the process, you join her in every creative project. It’s astounding.

Gretchen Rubin wrote recently, “My blog changed my life,” as she celebrated 12 years of blogging. She too has published more than 3,000 posts.

I’ve had my own blog since August 2006, and have posted to it at least once a week since then. That is a 12 year repository of my writing, my thoughts, that I have collected, and is public for others to see. It is truly a body of work.

Why do I see more successful writers and artists talking about blogging again? Perhaps because:

  • You gain a deeper understanding of your craft by documenting it. In doing so, you now have a repository of ideas that you can look back on and be inspired by.
  • Publishing your work — even your work in progress — helps you become better at your craft. Comedians can’t work out material in a room alone in front of a mirror for very long. They have to test material in front of an audience. For a writer or audience who doesn’t want to “play to the crowd,” I will clarify that this is not about pandering to the crowd. Sharing your process forces you to look at it more clearly, and consider how your writing or art is only complete when it moves someone.
  • Blogging is an incredible tool by which to show your own creative growth. In my Creative Shift Mastermind, we focus a lot on assessing progress because too often, people overlook growth. They miss major milestones because they are too busy worrying about something. But when you look back on a blog archive, on the history of your own work, you are forced to confront your own growth.
  • Likewise, I think there is a wonderful reason to allow others to experience this growth. For the creators I mentioned above, I understood them and their work better because I could go back 10+ years to experience it. This made our interview enormously richer.
  • You should own the connection to your audience, instead of relying entirely on a social network. This week I published my interview with artist and designer Kelli Anderson, and a fascinating quote is this: “If Instagram disappears, we are all in trouble. There are so many people I know who have Instagram-based careers.” What she means is that is their entire portfolio, online presence, and connection point to an audience is mostly through Instagram.

But let’s not forget another primary reason that blogging is being talked about more and more:
social media overwhelm. Many writers and artists feel a sense of frustration that other companies such as Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Google, control who sees their status updates. The creator is reliant on algorithms and business practices that they can’t control. By nature, these networks tend to reward popular posts, not deep content.

But to create something of value, it requires you to go deep.

How are you creating ways for others to experience your craft with the depth that it deserves? Is it a blog? A podcast? Something else? Let me know.

Thanks.
-Dan