Should You Work on That Idea?

Using Domainr, I can see if a domain name is available

Here’s a little trick I use to decide if I actually want to work on a project:

Let’s say I’ve got an idea, and I get really excited about it. I buy a domain for the website for the project, and start jotting down notes. I’m convinced that this is my next big idea!

The next step’s been a game changer for me: I go and add a note to my to-do list — one month in the future. I remind myself to revisit the idea then.

And then I do nothing — at least for 30 days.

Often, a month later, I look at the idea and go: Why was I so excited about this? That’s not a bad thing, I think — I’ve just saved myself a bunch of time and effort on an idea I wasn’t all that excited about!

But if I’m still excited about the idea a month later, that’s how I know it’s worth the investment, and that’s when I actually start to work on it.

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I like to use Domainr to come up with domain names. But I don’t think yournextnewsletteridea.com is my next project!

Every New Experience Can Be a Learning Experience.

a rainbow of colors on a bookshelf

I’m lucky to have a job where I learn new things every day.

Every new client brings me questions I haven’t had to answer before. Every new project introduces challenges I’ve never dealt with before. Every new year brings opportunities I’ve never had before.

And that’s just what happens at work. When I come home, being a new dad means I learn all sorts of new stuff every day — sometimes, a few new things a day. (Sometimes, that new stuff involves learning ways to not get peed on.)

You try, you do, you screw up, you learn. I’m not going to say I get smarter every day — I’m still working on that part! — but every new experience is a learning experience. You just have to be willing to see it that way.

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That photo of a bookshelf comes via Jason Leung and Unsplash.

Find What Works For You.

I talked with a group of publishers a few weeks ago, and they told me they’d just come back from a conference where a speaker told them that the right number of links to include in email was 15. They wanted to know: Did I agree?

And I told them what I know to be true: There is no “right” strategy for email.

There is no right topic.

There is no right format.

There is no right number of links.

There is no right number of emails to send per week.

It’s up to you to figure out what works for you and your audience.

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That’s my first BuzzFeed newsletter. It had just five links. We tested it — and figured out that we could add a lot more!

Your Imperfect Next Step.

I was on a call with a client a few weeks ago, and they told me they wanted to build the best possible email strategy in 2024.

“That’s great,” I told them. “But I don’t want you to be thinking about what’s best. I want you to be thinking about what’s next.”

Thinking “best” can lead to magical thinking, to dreaming of blue sky situations where you’ve got all the budget and resources you need. It can lead to planning for a day that may not come.

Instead, take a look at what you’re doing right now and ask yourself: What’s the next thing we can do to make our newsletter strategy better?

It might be a small step, and that’s OK. Some of the best newsletters out there were built thanks to a lot of small steps forward.

The next step may not be perfect. It may just be… what’s next.

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I took that photo, more than 15 years ago, while walking the Camino de Santiago in Spain.

Be Willing to Get Lost.

A splash of white light on an otherwise darkened staircase.

I read Andrew Leland’s new book, “The Country of the Blind,” this week. It’s a memoir about a writer who has been slowly losing his sight over the previous decades, and he uses the book to better understand life as a blind person in the United States. It’s a fascinating read, and a reminder of just how much sight shapes the way I think about the world. (Even in trying to write that last sentence, the first three phrases that came to mind — “a glimpse into Leland’s life,” “an illuminating read,” “an eye-opening experience” — all reflect a bias towards sight.)

One chapter towards the end of the book truly struck me. Leland visits the Colorado Center for the Blind, a place where members of the blind community stay for months as they learn new skills, from woodworking to cooking to navigating the outside world. Leland meets a younger student at the Center, Ahmed, who offers some advice about how to get around as a blind person:

The single most important skill for blind travel, Ahmed later told me, is that “you have to be willing to get lost, and be confident in your ability to figure it out.” In the early days of his blindness, he once took three hours to traverse a route that would have taken him five minutes with a sighted guide. Eventually he got better at navigating Washington, DC, learning the direction of traffic, the patterns of certain stoplights, the way the sound of another person’s footsteps changes as they begin descending a set of stairs. In Colorado, he learned to use cardinal directions, and can now often figure out which way he’s facing from the feeling of the sun on his face. But, he added, “it’s not like once you leave [the Colorado Center for the Blind], you’ll never get lost again.” … Getting lost is not always comfortable, or pleasant, but it is an organic and fundamental part of the human experience. The more one is able to accept it, rather than fight it, the more skillful one becomes in one’s travels.

Later in the chapter, Leland describes the experience of Ahmed and two other students heading to a local store. As Leland writes, not only do Ahmed and his classmates make it to their destination safely, but Ahmed is so comfortable on the walk that he does some it while walking backwards!

Anyway, I’ll be thinking about this line for the rest of the day: “You have to be willing to get lost, and be confident in your ability to figure it out.”

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That photo of a darkened staircase comes via Unsplash and photographer Carolina Pimenta.

We Ain’t What We Gonna Be.

A mural of the "I Am a Man" protest that took place in Memphis, TN, during the Civil Rights Movement.

I’ve just finished Jonathan Eig’s biography, “King: A Life.” It’s a remarkable portrait of Martin Luther King, Jr.

I found myself jotting down lines and quotes as I read through the book, but one stuck with me. It comes at a rare quiet moment in what Eig describes as the non-stop travel schedule that was the final dozen years of Dr. King’s life. It comes at a moment when he’s talking to two ordinary Americans, trying to keep their spirits up.

“We ain’t what we want to be, and we ain’t what we gonna be,” he tells them.

King had a vision both simple and radical, one that pushed for huge changes in our society. Those dreams are still unfulfilled today.

And yet, there’s that quote, something he said not in a pulpit or in front of a camera — the promise of better days tomorrow, of change ahead, for each of us, and for a nation.

We go still, onward. We are not yet finished today.

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That’s a photo of the “I Am a Man” mural in Memphis, Tennessee. The mural was created by Marcellous Lovelace with BLK75. The photo was taken by Joshua J. Cotten for Unsplash.

How I Knew.

Here’s a story I’ve never told before.

In the spring of 2019, I was starting to think about leaving the New Yorker to start Inbox Collective. But I was still nervous about it. Was it the right time to leave? Was I ready to take on the responsibility of building a new business?

And that’s around the time a recruiter reached out to ask about a job.

It was a good job with a big title at a major news organization, making more money than I’d ever made it my life. I wasn’t looking for another job, but I interviewed anyway. It was the kind of offer I had to at least consider. I wasn’t sure what to expect.

Within 20 minutes of the first interview, I knew what I wanted to do next.

I wasn’t excited about the idea of taking another job. I still loved my job at the New Yorker.

But more than anything else, I felt excited about the idea of starting my own consulting business — well, equal parts excited and nervous. Whenever I feel nervous, that’s usually a good thing. It’s a signal that I really care about something.

So I started to ask myself: Why, exactly, am I still doing the same old thing if I’m ready for what’s next?

By the end of the month, I told my bosses that I was leaving to start Inbox Collective.

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That’s a photo of me talking to a group of newsrooms in Sydney in fall 2019, a few months after starting Inbox Collective.

Break Down the Results When It’s Over.

Missouri celebrates their Cotton Bowl victory on the field

It’s easy to jump to conclusions too quickly.

Last night, I went to the Cotton Bowl in Arlington, Texas, to see my Missouri Tigers play Ohio State. Through the first 40 minutes or so, there wasn’t a lot to get excited about. Ohio State led 3-0 at halftime. Missouri could barely move the ball on offense. There were a lot of Missouri fans near us who were angry, distraught, or dismayed. (Many were all three.)

And then, in the final 20 minutes, everything flipped. Missouri scored a touchdown, then scored another, then forced a fumble to put the game away. Final score: 14-3, Missouri.

My analysis of the game looked a lot different after 60 minutes of football instead of just 40 minutes.

It’s a reminder for me, whether you’re watching football or working on a new project, that there’s a tendency to decide that things are over a little too soon. I know I’ve been guilty of declaring that something won’t work — even if I don’t have the data I really need to make that decision.

Often, the right move is it let everything play out. Once you have all the data, then you can look at what happened, break down the numbers, and decide what to do next.

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That’s the photo I took of the post-game celebration at the Cotton Bowl.

The Work is Never Done.

The chambers of the Economic and Social Council, with its unfinished ceiling.

For the past decade, I’ve lived just a few blocks away from the United Nations. And yet, until this week, I’d never actually been inside.

If you’re visiting New York, the UN is worth a visit. It’s tough to visit the UN and not feel a little bit optimistic about the future of the world. Diplomacy is never easy, and yes, we’ve got massive global challenges ahead of us, but it’s amazing to visit a place where all the countries of the world have come together to try to solve big problems. World hunger, nuclear disarmament, climate change — the world gathers here, at a campus on 1st Avenue, to try to find the answers.

I was familiar with a lot of the places we saw on the tour. I’d seen the big Assembly Hall on the news. I’d seen photos of delegates sitting around the table of the Security Council Chamber. But there were a few rooms I’d never seen.

One was the chamber for the Economic and Social Council. The room was designed in 1952 from Swedish architect Svem Markelius.

It’s a beautiful room, featuring wood from Swedish forests. But there’s one particularly unique feature of the room: The ceiling is unfinished.

That’s on purpose, our tour guide informed us. It’s a subtle reminder: The ceiling is unfinished because the work of the UN will always be unfinished. There will always be more to do.

Here’s to whatever work and whatever challenges lie in the year ahead.

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I took that photo of the Economic and Social Council chamber on a visit to the UN.

Try It For Yourself.

A purple pencil and yellow pencil on pink and yellow paper.

There’s this great piece of research out from the teams at Trusting News and the News Revenue Hub. They worked with five non-profit newsrooms that serve communities in five different states — Connecticut, Michigan, Pennsylvania, Texas, and Wisconsin — to test messages around the work these newsrooms do and how they operate. All five tested out similar messages.

The results?

There was no clear trend across participants, which is to say that each newsroom had different messaging work best for them.


This tells us that each organization is unique and has a unique relationship with their audience. We plan to test this more in the future, but for now, this indicates… that every newsroom should assess their own data and audience feedback regularly and tailor their messaging accordingly.

It echoes something I advise my own clients: Don’t just assume that what worked for someone else will work for you. Use the work you’ve seen from others as a starting point — but then test out those ideas and see what actually works for you and your team.

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That photo of pencil and paper comes via Unsplash and Dev Asangbam.