Category: Uncategorized

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

If you are a writer or artist, it is easy to feel as though you have missed the boat. As if, today, it is harder to develop an audience than it was 5 or 10 or 20 years ago. You look around at industry trends, at the marketplace, at social media, and feel jaded. You see nothing but noise, and no place for your small voice to be heard.

Today I want to share a story to give you hope that your unique creative vision does matter. That it is important for you to keep going, to keep creating. That the world desperately needs your voice and your art.

The Theater

I have lost some sleep over this in the past year. You see, I live in a small town. It’s about 4 square miles and has this adorable downtown. One of the centerpieces is this movie theater, which was built around 1925:

In all the years I have lived here, it was a common site to see families pour out of the theater talking about what they have seen. But soon, this building will likely be torn down and replaced with a couple small retail stores and a bunch of condos.

This will happen (this is a composite image I made in Photoshop, it is not anything that has happened yet):

And then something similar to the building below will likely be built there. This image of the first version of what has been proposed by the current owner of the property, but it is not final or approved::

The short version of the backstory is that the former owner of the building put it up for sale. For about a year and a half, it was on the market without a buyer. A local real estate and development company bought it. Soon after, the tenant of the building – the actual movie operator – chose to not renew their lease and leave. The building sat empty with no new theater operator willing to take the space.

I would like to explore how this came to be. I have spent months and months researching this topic and talking with people locally about it. I can’t lie, I’m at an impasse. Not with them, but with myself.

You see, in my heart, I would like for this theater to be saved. For the building to be saved. For our community to continue to have a place that brings us together. That celebrates the arts. That preserves the rich history of this town.

But that likely won’t happen. Today want to dig into why that is and how it can relate to your own personal experience of trying to create and share your art in a world that doesn’t always seem accepting of it.

Why the Theater Feels Special

I’m sentimental when it comes to historic things and to the arts. But when I consider the concept of saving this theater, the truth is, it isn’t simply because I want an old thing saved. I’m not one who feels “everything should remain the same.”

But, in our town, this is a rare community space. A place where strangers, friends, and family do something together. It is a place for shared experience that anyone can join in on. When you experience a movie or performance, it is a communal experience. I’m not sure about you, but I laugh harder a comedy when in a crowded room than when watching it alone.

Living in New Jersey, there are a wide range of activities at my disposal. Yet, I think that the theater experience is different from many other activities such as the arcade at Funplex, or the rollerskating rink or even going to the YMCA. Those activities are about individual experiences that happen to be next to other people.

The theater celebrates a communal experience of the arts.

When the building comes down, I am most sad because something that brought us together is now gone. It’s one less way for our community to truly have a shared experience, and less like a series of people doing individual things next to each other.

Efforts to Save the Theater

When I first heard that the movie operator was leaving the space, I did two things. The first was I immediately called the theater and asked if I could come down right now and take photos of the interior. Surprisingly, they said yes, and for an hour or two, I crawled into every cavity of the space to record it for posterity. I took more than 200 photos. Here is the ticket booth:

The lobby:

Someone saved some of the plasterwork from the original theater. The rest is hidden behind drop ceilings:

One of the four theaters in this building:

On the floor, you can see the outline of where the movie projector used to sit:

I just realized, this is the last photo that a member of the public will ever take in this theater:

While the theater was cut up from a single large theater to four smaller theaters years ago, there are many architectural elements still present, such as this marble:

There is a long hallway of office space that looks as though it has been unused for decades:

No children will ever use these booster seats in this theater again:

Another view of one of the theaters:

Movies that will not be shown here:

The second thing I did was I began asking questions to people who I know are involved with town affairs. I had a private meeting with the Mayor, with other town officials, with those who run local businesses, and those who volunteer for town events. I talked to a lot of local citizens simply asking for their take on the fate of the theater. My goal in this process was simple: listen.

I began showing up to meetings: town council meetings, planning board meetings, and zoning board meetings, historic preservation meetings. Here too, my goal was to simply listen.

What I heard again and again was this: a great effort was made by many people to save this building and save this theater. I heard story after story of someone who tried to get the money to buy the building, but came up just short. Or of how someone called movie operator after movie operator, trying to get them to take the lease, but no one wanted it. Or from someone who spoke to prominent local residents who have a history of purchasing buildings or funding the arts, but they weren’t interested.

This took place over the course of months. Our town had a special meeting to discuss this building. In the video of the 2+ hour meeting, skip ahead to the time code of 1 hour and 53 minutes. Here a local resident tells you about the efforts he made to purchase the property, and the challenges he had in that process. This is just one of many stories I have heard.

But these stories weren’t public. These were all private conversations and efforts. It made me appreciate how many people care for this community and how difficult it is to solve this situation.

This is not the first time the theater was closed. Back in the mid-1980s the theater was featured on the cover of this newspaper with the headline “The End”:

The building was put up for auction and failed to find a buyer at first. Here is a scene from the auction:

It eventually found a buyer, and after sitting empty for 2 years, was set to reopen. (Note the cardboard cutout of the Three Amigos!)

The arts often seem to have this type of relationship with commerce, a tentative one.

Questions I Have Wrestled With

In my months of research, I have tried to consider every aspect of the situation. The theater seems to sit right between two competing needs: a property that is quaint (historic & communal), but also highly valuable private property. Some thoughts on each:

#1 Private vs Public Property: As much as the theater has been a communal space for nearly a century, it is also private property.

Madison is, and always has been a very valuable town to live in. What that means is that people who live hear expect their property value to increase. This is a town with a midtown direct train station to New York City in north central New Jersey.

Every square inch of town has an intrinsic value that someone wants to maximize. I’ve seen small houses sell for $800,000, which are then torn down so that a developer can build a bigger house.

All of this made me consider the burden it puts on property owners if their building can only be used for a single purpose. In this case, if that spot can only ever be used as a movie theater. Understanding that this is private property is an important part of this discussion.

I remember the comedian who went on stage holding the axe, and said, “This is the actual axe that George Washington used to chop down the cherry tree. But, over time, the handle got a little worn, so I replaced it. Then a couple years later, the blade got dull, so I replaced that too. But it is the exact same axe.” As I consider what a “historic downtown” really means, I am confronted with the axe story. Is the downtown that existed in 1930 — every brick supposed to remain unchanged? If so, what burden does this put on the owners of these properties? How does that affect the economic growth of town?

#2 The Distinction Between History and Community

This building is in the historic district, but I suppose I’m not entirely sure what that means. (Here is the form designating it as part of National Register of Historic Places.) Here is the map, indicating that the theater is in the historic district:

This is what I would call a “quaint” town. Our local government does a wonderful job of ensuring that the town remains that way. Recently, I saw a row of lovely new street lights added a block away from the theater that look like vintage gas lamps. During the recession, I remember pavers being added to the street that the theater sits on, and a cute little garden island added right in front of it. During the summer, what seems to be hundreds of live plants are hung from lampposts all over town, and I watch municipal workers water them all summer long.

The town is filled with adorableness: a clock in the center of town, a grand town hall, and we have traditions such as a holiday parade, farmers market and street fairs.

The theater adds to that quaint town feel. Losing it feels as though we may be losing a centerpiece that draws many to this town.

What I Can Do

In this room at the town meeting is a wide range of viewpoints. I’ve tried to consider them all, because each person loves this community:

I spent a long time researching this topic, and truth be told, I still feel like there are many other people I should speak to. I felt sad the entire time I wrote this piece, because I don’t like the idea of sitting on the sidelines as the wrecking ball destroys this theater. But the truth is, my research has made me more aware of how complex this situation is.

I don’t want this theater to be destroyed, but I respect the complexity of the situation. There is no simple answer.

The lesson I’m trying to take is to focus my days on supporting the people who I engage with every day. Of finding ways to encourage the arts in my community. In supporting those who do that hard work day in and day out.

The work to preserve the arts in my community is stuff that should be done years before it is ever “threatened.”  It is in the hard work of individuals and organizations I see all around me. Local organizations that include:

The Writers Theatre of New Jersey

Shakespeare Theatre of New Jersey

Madison Arts & Culture Alliance

Short Stories Bookshop & Community Hub

Madison Mud Clay Studio

Creative Hands Art Studio & Atelier

Makers Gallery

The Museum of Early Trades and Crafts

Dewey’s Comic City

Step Right Up Studio

Madison Storytellers Festival (I help run this!)

… and so many other wonderful organizations and businesses! What I can do is support these people and organizations.

It is worth noting: there is also something special happening in town. A new community theater space is being constructed. This was shared recently by the Writers Theatre of New Jersey:

“We’re really excited to share these photos of progress in Madison’s new Rose Hall, which will be our new home! We’ll be sharing the space with some other wonderful arts and community groups and we’re looking forward to seeing all of the energy and creativity they bring to the space too!”

Yes, a theater is being created. One that has the involvement of many arts organizations, as well as town officials and other supporters. Thank you all for that.

My Advice for Sharing Your Writing & Art With the World

So why am I sharing this story with you, a writer or artist who probably doesn’t live in my town or anywhere near it? It is this…

It can be easy to feel that the world has changed, and that the marketplace is now overcrowded; that there is no room for your art to find a place.

But as much as I have lost sleep and felt sad about the theater, I have also forged new friendships along the way. This has helped me better understand my community, and find more connections within it.

You have that same power for your work.

You don’t need to focus on getting followers on social media, you can instead forge true connections with people who love the kind of work you create. Focus your attention on those who care about the same things you do, not on “fighting industry trends” that will take you away from your art.

If I could encourage you to take two actions this week, it would be this:

1. Make more time to create, less time to consume or react. Set your own intentions for the week instead of being swayed by the news of the moment, the latest trend, or the 1,000th “best practice” you are told you have to do.
2. Make more time to connect with one person this week. Really connect with them. Email an author whose book you loved. Ask a reader a question. Do something to initiate a new connection. That action is often much simpler than we imagine. A smile. An email. A question.

Thank you.

-Dan

Someone emailed me the other day and shared a challenge they are trying to work through:

“I think my main creative challenge is shutting out all the noise and the other things I can do and just WRITE.”

They went on to describe how their time is spent caring for their kids, for relatives who need assistance, and how they have some major events going on in their life at the moment.

In the middle of all of this, they said, “I need to preserve time and energy to grow myself and make a good go of writing. This is something I’ve always wanted to do but fear, responsibility, and being scared of “how” held me back.”

Today I want to share the advice I emailed her, and expand up it. Because I find that fear is indeed the biggest thing holding many people back from writing or creating.

Focus on Experiences Not Milestones

Today is the 1-year anniversary of publishing my first book, Be the Gateway. As I think back on the last twelve months, I don’t remember some magical “launch day.” Instead I look at the consistent effort to ensure that this book reaches people. Meaning: my fear is not in writing or publishing, but rather, my fear is not being able to help writers and artists.

My book’s success is not about sales figures or reviews, though both of those things are nice. My success is measured entirely on whether or not my work has truly helped someone. If it has opened up their potential and helped them create more and ensure that their writing or art reaches those who will love it.

Focus more on whether your work has brightened someone’s day, not if your follower count on social media has gone up.

Your success is not a metric. It is the experience you create in the world. The nice thing about that is that you have the capacity to create success every day through tiny actions of connecting your work to others. Focus more on those small actions than you do the huge scary milestones.

When I think back about my experience with Be the Gateway, what I remember are the words of others. Those who have reached out with questions or comments about the books. I remember how this book made them feel. Maya Angelou said it better than I ever could:

“I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

Get Support

Find a collaborator or support group of some sort. I can’t underscore how critical this is: if you want to be a writer or artist, you need colleagues. This can look like many things:

• A one-on-one collaboration with someone else who does work similar to you.
• Joining an already-established group.
• Attending a class, workshop, retreat, or conference of some sort.
• Creating a habit of reaching out and meeting others who create the kind of work you admire.

Personally, I have done (and continue to do) all of these things. If you think you don’t need support, you are lying to yourself. We all need support to achieve our creative goals.

This is what it looks like for me:

• I have a private mastermind with the amazing book coach Jennie Nash. Each week we talk and dig into our biggest goals and challenges.
• I have hired people to be on my team at WeGrowMedia to collaborate on ideas and to keep me accountable.
• I create a podcast where I constantly meet new writers and artists and dig deep into their creative processes. It’s astounding how many of these connections have turned into colleagues and friendships.
• I run a small festival each year called the Madison Storytellers Festival, where I collaborate with dozens of other creators, including those who have become a part of my own brain trust. These are people I can text at any time if I need advice or assistance

But perhaps the biggest thing I do is run the Creative Shift Mastermind.
In the 8 years I have run WeGrowMedia, by far the most powerful thing I have created is an accountability group where writers and artists forge powerful connections with each other. We focus on getting total clarity in our creative work, establishing new habits, creating a plan to connect it all to an audience, and to hold each other accountable. (the next group starts April 1 — join us!)

Kill Impostors Syndrome. Replace it with Celebration

Many writers and artists I speak too suffer from some form of impostor syndrome. Impostor syndrome is the belief that you haven’t earned your achievements, and will be found out as a fraud.

The most surprising thing I have learned about impostor syndrome is that it doesn’t go away with success. In fact, it can become amplified by success. It comes up in little whispers that turn achievement into fear. It sounds like this, as a little whisper in your head:

“Sure you wrote a bestselling book, but that’s just because you got lucky. You are never going to have the same success with your second book, then everyone will see that your first book was a fluke. No one will ever want to publish you again.”

Wildly successful people such as Dani Shapiro and Amanda Palmer talk about dealing with impostor syndrome. Amanada actually calls it “the fraud police.” I highly recommend their books:

• The Art of Asking: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Let People Help, by Amanda Palmer
• Still Writing: The Perils and Pleasures of a Creative Life, by Dani Shapiro

Once you can accept that impostor syndrome can happen to anyone, it is easier to ensure it doesn’t take you off track. I want to encourage you to replace it with this: celebration.

Each week, celebrate what you do create. Even if you only grab 10 minutes of writing time and didn’t like what you wrote — recognize and celebrate what you did. This can be a simple list, but it shouldn’t be a simple feeing. The creative life is made up of tiny steps leading to a larger goal. Recognize those steps, and celebrate them. (With chocolate, if possible.)

Be More Like Yourself

In my latest podcast, I interview psychologist Ellen Hendriksen, who helps millions calm their anxiety and be their authentic selves. In our chat, we dig into topics that writers and artists constantly struggle with, including:

• Impostors Syndrome
• Permission to create
• Comparison to others
• Seeking validation
• Sharing your work publicly
• Collaboration
• Entrepreneurship

We talk about her new book, How to Be Yourself: Quiet Your Inner Critic and Rise Above Social Anxiety, which Susan Cain calls “a groundbreaking roadmap to finally being your true, authentic self.”

You can listen to our entire conversation on my blog or check out the episode on iTunes.

I’ll end with my absolute favorite thing I have ever found on the internet, this video: “Fitting In,” by Ze Frank.

Thanks.
-Dan

A lot of writers and artists want to know what works when it comes to marketing. Often, they want to find a simple trick that they can use quickly to have more people become aware of their books or art or mission. It’s not uncommon for me to hear things like:

• “I tried Facebook, it didn’t work.”
• “Blogging doesn’t work anymore, my friend had one and it was a waste of time.”
• “I heard podcasting is the hot new trend, how can I leverage that for my book?”

The common thread here is that these people are looking for a single marketing tactic to quickly move the needle on growing their audience or increasing sales. If they don’t see immediate growth, they become jaded and stop using it.

Selling your creative work is more complex than simply launching a blog or opening an Instagram account. Don’t get me wrong, those things are wonderful, but they are a part of a larger process to develop trust with your ideal audience.

Marketing can be many things. But today I want to talk about the kind of marketing that is built upon trust, not trickery. One where it leads to true lifelong fans of your work.

Let me give you a clear example from my own life. This week, author Sheila Athens joined me for a one-day workshop I ran called Studio Time. Prior to the event, she told me how she came to sign up for it:

“I saw you speak at a conference a few years ago and thought you really knew your stuff. I enjoy your podcast. I am a book coach at Author Accelerator and I know you collaborate a lot with Jennie Nash. Anyone who Jennie respects, automatically gets my respect and attention, too. I have been watching your Mastermind solicitations from afar, but have hesitated to sign up because of the cost. Studio Time is a way to get a taste of your work so that I can more accurately decide about signing up for a future Mastermind.”

This is how real people act. They are careful with their time, attention and resources. They are driven by trust and respect.

Look at how many times, and across how many channels, Sheila came in contact with something I did as she considered working directly with me:

1. She saw me speak at a large in-person event in 2015.
2. She listens to my podcast.
3. She saw that Jennie Nash has collaborated with me a lot. Sheila likely signed up for some of the free webinars Jennie and I have done over the years.
4. She has received my weekly email newsletter.

So that is four different channels over the course of three years. This week she added another channel to that list, the Studio Time workshop. After we finished up with it yesterday, Sheila shared this on social media:

Marketing takes time. And that is okay. Why? Because pretty much every single one of the people who asks me about what works in marketing, also tells me that they don’t want to be “one of those spammy marketers. Someone always pushing their work on others.” In other words, their goal is reach someone like Sheila. To develop a connection with her based on respect and trust.

Because that is the type of relationship that any artist would want with their audience.

In some ways, marketing never gets easier. Someone may say, “Oh Dan, if I had thousands of followers and could earn a living entirely through my writing or art, I would be 100% happy.” But that doesn’t take into the account the complexity of sharing and marketing one’s work, even when you are successful.

This week I interviewed Marc Johns, who earns a living for him and his family (wife and 2 kids) by selling his drawings. Yet, he shared this with his 26,000 Instagram followers in January:

“I seriously feel like quitting the whole thing sometimes.”

What made him say that? Well, Drew Barrymore shared a photo of her daughter wearing a jacket that had Marc’s art on it:

Amazing right? This is the type of thing that many artists dream about: a celebrity sharing their work with 8 million followers. But there was a problem. The jacket was not an officially licensed product. The company who made it stole Marc’s art. (Drew didn’t know this.)

Marc was crushed. This is not the first time it has happened for him, but because Drew shared it, it just felt bigger. It also felt very personal. Marc works from home, and this art is all that supports his family. He explained to me how his art was an extension of himself. When that gets stolen, it is as if a piece of you has been taken.

Marc spent two weeks dealing with the fallout. When I talked with him, he shared an extremely honest account of what happened, and what he did about it. He doesn’t hold anything back.

Luckily, this particular story has a happy ending, but I know that isn’t the case for many artists. Marc and I also talk about the complexity that all creators face when dealing with art, money, and piracy. You can watch us talk below, or listen to the podcast on iTunes.

Thank you.
-Dan