Great work sells itself (sometimes)

For many of us, selling ourselves is distasteful. We don’t like interrupting people, convincing them, or bothering them with our needs. We believe that great work will attract the right people at the right time.

And for some of us, this is true—like my favorite mix engineer (whose name you’ve never heard of) who’s been responsible for just about every #1 hit on the radio you can name for the last 25 years. He’s known for shunning the limelight, avoiding interviews, and doing everything from his home in Virginia Beach—as far from LA as possible. Serban Ghenea has pursued career in the entertainment industry that seems contrary to every one of his peers.

Or consider Rick Rubin, making great artists come to him, shoeless and embeardified in Malibu. Living the dream!

But unfortunately, most of us aren’t Serban Ghenea or Rick Rubin—the literal best in the world at what we do. For the rest of us, selling ourselves is in the category of something we may not enjoy but must do.

Still, there’s no denying that if the work is *truly* good enough, the audience will take care of itself.

More popularity = more haters

Alt title: Tongues can clack!?

The dirty secret of becoming popular in today’s world is that popularity = haters.

We imagine that our accounts will grow and grow, and that we’ll be universally loved. But especially now, increased attention means increased negativity. Many people are taken aback to discover the onslaught that comes along with a post that breaks the algorithm and gets greater reach than the others.

Turns out when some numbers go up, all numbers go up!

These moments can rock us to our core, but it’s important to remember that from ancient times to now, the opinions of others have very little to do with our own development.

Marcus Aurelius said as much nearly 2,000 years ago when he called these opinions the “clacking of tongues”.

Just remember, you aren’t doing this for them: you’re doing it for yourself.

The hustle with a thousand faces

Joseph Campbell’s seminal work The Hero with a Thousand Faces defined Hollywood storytelling for 75 years.

All of our favorite films, from Star Wars to Spaceballs 2: The Search for More Money have relied on the same narrative arc, known widely as “The Hero’s Journey”.

The formula is so well-defined that the beats of our favorite films, movies, and brands adhere to the playbook almost down to the minute. And yet we still eat it up. Because it works.

Today, the independent creator and entrepreneur follows a similarly predictable archetype: The hustle with a thousand faces.

The hustle works like this:

Step 1. Carve out an area of the internet that has relatively low competition—it could be anything. Homemade Christmas ornaments? Yep. Hand painted DnD figurines? Yep. How to automate anything with AI and Zapier? Yep. It doesn’t matter what it is, as long as it’s a Blue Ocean.

Step 2. Gather a following online. It could be as few as 1,000 True Fans.

Step 3. Create a paid community and charge $50-100 per month for access. If you get 1,000 sign-ups, you’re now making $50k per month, easy peasy.

Now that you know the formula, you’ll recognize it everywhere. And yet it still works. The trick is just figuring out the current niche du jour.

If your goal is a good story…

…you can’t lose.

Before giving a recent speech, I went to the reopening of Casa Bonita in Denver.

As a child, eating the food at Casa Bonita was a >75% chance of getting food poisoning. That’s why my entire life, the only thing I ever ate there was the sopapillas. You couldn’t enter the experience without buying the food, so they basically forced food poisoning on an entire population. At least Black Bart’s cave was worth it!

So the day before an important speech? To go to Casa Bonita was madness. What if I got sick? What if I couldn’t talk?

Well here’s the thing about good stories: Let’s say the worst happened. Let’s say that I got food poisoning from Casa Bonita, and that’s why I couldn’t give my talk. Any dyed-in-the-wool Colorado kid would see that as a badge of honor.

I could think of no better story than to have a speech cancelled for that reason.

If we reframe our experiences as potential good stories to tell, it takes a lot of the pressure off of the outcome.

Games as a force for good

Imagine having your life turned upside down, when you realize that your daughter has Type 1 Diabetes at the age of 5.

As it turns out, managing the meals and medications of a small child is not only a full-time job, it’s also surprisingly confusing. It’s no wonder that so many parents struggle.

My friend Sam Glassenberg (who has had a successful game studio for years) sees everything as a potential problem that games can solve. He’s built an incredible career on it.

Now he’s turned his attention to creating a game called Level One, that teaches people how to manage this complicated and scary diagnosis for themselves or their children.

As we enter a world of VR, AR, and a digital-first landscape, games have tremendous power to bring good into the world, and to help things get done that simply aren’t getting done.

If you know a parent who needs help, send them this free app.