A Brief Explanation Of Why I Went To Fargo This Weekend.

Don’t get me wrong: I love working in journalism in New York. But the New York media world is pretty small. Go to events or conferences, and you see a lot of the same people. (And I’ve discovered that the world of New York people who do email stuff — my expertise at BuzzFeed — is even smaller.)

So once a year, I try to go to something that’s totally outside my little worlds.

In 2012, it meant a TEDx event in D.C. Last year, I went to Portland for a conference called the World Domination Summit.

And this year, I went to Fargo for MisfitCon — an impressive little conference for people who make stuff (both online and IRL).

I met all sorts of people this weekend in Fargo: actors, accountants, painters, writers… you get the idea. They’re people I don’t get to talk to that much. Which meant that I got to hear about stuff I don’t ever get to hear about — and now I’m coming back to New York with some good new ideas and energy.

I’m not saying you have to travel all the way to North Dakota to escape. But every few months, it’s worth getting outside your normal circles. You’d be surprised at what you might learn.

I took that photo at MisfitCon.

You Know More Than You Know.

A few years ago, I came to a strange point with Stry.us. I had been working on the project for a while, and the initial giddiness of working on something new had worn off. Suddenly, I felt overwhelmed with it all. There was so much I didn’t know, and it felt to me like I was the only one who didn’t know what he was really talking about.

I didn’t quite know how to explain it back then, but I can now. (Funny how much a few years of perspective helps.) What I was experiencing was twofold:

1) I was challenging myself, and realizing that to succeed in my new role, I was going to have to learn a lot.

2) I was struggling to remember that even though I had a lot to learn, I also still knew a lot.

That didn’t make sense to me when I first went through it. I honestly believed that I couldn’t be smart AND have lots to learn at the same time. I thought it was either one or the other.

But the more people I talk to about my experience, the more I realize that I wasn’t alone in this. A lot of people struggle with that mentality when they take on a big new role.

So when you find yourself in that situation — when you feel overwhelmed with what you still have to learn — these two things can help:

1) Be honest with others about what you know. When you know the answer, speak up! Chances are, you know a lot more about your work than you’d give yourself credit for.

2) Be willing to say, “I don’t know.” It’s not a sign of weakness. It’s not a sign of failure. When you say those words, you’re making a promise to yourself to go out and find the answers. And often, you’re making a promise to get help from others.

You can be stubborn, and pretend to know it all, or you can grow as you go. I’d take the second path if I were you.

Data + Story.

kiyomi and taro shibas, on the couch

Two weeks ago, while I was writing out my annual “What I Believe” post, I had a small epiphany, and jotted this down:

If you can show it in a spreadsheet, you can sell it. And if you can pair that data with a great story, you’ve really got something.

In my job at BuzzFeed, I report to two people: Dao, our director of traffic; and Erica, our managing editor. With Dao, it’s all about numbers. Show her that the numbers are trending upward, and she’ll listen.

With Erica — and any of the other editors at BuzzFeed — it’s all about the story. If you can tell a great story, they’ll listen.

When you pair those together, that’s when the magic really happens. I wrote that when you put them together, “you’ve really got something.” Which is true.

But what I really meant to say is: When you pair them together, you’ve really earned respect. In your work, you’ll have to sell your ideas to others. One of the secrets to sales is being able to pair data and a great story. Get those two elements together, and they’ll not only listen — they’ll follow you where you want to go.

That’s a photo of two shibas, because, you know, BuzzFeed. It comes via Taro the Shiba Inu on Flickr.

What Can Happen When You Put Things Out There.

So here’s what I love about that story, above, from the very talented Kishi Bashi:

Sometimes, you stumble into amazing things. Sometimes, you make a snippet of a thing, and people like it, and they ask for more. Sometimes, you unintentionally put something amazing into the universe.

Our world is full of happy accidents, of the times that you stumble onto something great. But the only way to get there is to put something out into the world first.

Go. Make. Share. It’s the only way to really know.

Being Normal Seems Weird.

“I don’t do normal. I have a reputation to uphold.” ― Joan Bauer

 
I’ve had a lot of conversations lately about the idea of normal. They usually start with a statement like this: “Dan, there’s nothing even remotely normal about you.”

To which I usually say: Why, yes, thank you.

And then: Do I really want to be normal?

If someone describes me, I’d hope they use a better word. Like remarkable. Or ambitious. Or even crazy.

I’d want to hear that I’m doing something with my life that’s making an impression, and that I’m doing it in a way that stands out.

Normal? That just doesn’t sound right to me at all.

What I’d Tell Myself If I Was Starting College Today.

me-at-18

I started classes at the University of Missouri eight years ago this month. Which got my me thinking: If I was starting college this year, what advice would 26-year-old me give my 18-year-old counterpart?

 
So, 18-year-old Dan, here’s the thing:

College is 100% about experiences. You should do stuff because you CAN.

Go to concerts on Tuesday nights because you can. Join that campus improv group because you can. Take that all-night road trip because you can.

And yes, do stuff even when your friends don’t want to. You’ll meet new people along the way.

College is a time to try stuff you’d otherwise never try. You’re never going to have more free time to learn something new.

Basically, you’re going to go to 15 hours of class a week, and spend another 10-15 hours (maybe) doing work for those classes, which leaves you with an insane amount of free time to do whatever the hell you want.

Like, now is the time to learn an instrument. Or learn to take photos. Or learn to make awesome stuff.

No, your GPA doesn’t matter. As soon as you leave college, it’s as relevant as your SAT score.

So shoot for GPA that starts with a 3, but don’t worry too much about grades. Or your major. Most of your friends will end up doing something entirely unrelated to their majors.

Take classes that challenge you. Take classes with professors you like.

And take advantage of office hours. Just go in and talk to the professor for a few minutes each month. They’re smart people, and you’ll actually enjoy the conversation. (Yes, really.)

There aren’t a lot of things you shouldn’t do at college, but here are two: Don’t sleep so much — there is no human reason to sleep as much as you’re going to want to. And don’t be so messy — make your damn bed. Nobody wants to hang out at a messy apartment.

And that’s about it. Everything else is on the table. (Well, don’t do anything horribly illegal, but you already knew that.)

Experiences matter, and people matter, and that’s it. The rest of the stuff they tell you about os mostly rules that you don’t need to pay much attention to. The people you’ll come to admire don’t really care about the rules.

Go and find good people. The people you meet in college are going to be around for a long time. You are going to want good people in your life.

Good people will make your college experience better. They will make your life better. They will make you happy. Find lots and lots of time for these people.

But when you screw up, especially to them, apologize. And forgive them when they mess up. This matters more than you think.

One more don’t, actually: Don’t be a jerk. You’re young, and you think you know it all, and you’re going to be a jerk sometimes. Try not to be an asshole — it comes back around.

A few more things: Reach out to people you admire in “the real world” — people love helping college kids. They actually read your emails and take your calls.

And a quick follow up — especially a hand-written note — means far more than you can possibly imagine.

Create stuff. Build stuff. Even if it’s dumb.

The people who build stuff in college tend to go on to build stuff in the real world. This is not a coincidence.

And one finally little thing: This is not the best four years of your life. It isn’t. But if you do it right, it is the first four years of what can be an amazing life.

Know this: College is an wonderful place. You have so many resources around you, and so many amazing people around you. Everything you need to start something amazing — a project, a company, a life — is right here.

You will not come out of college fully formed, and that’s okay. In fact, it’s encouraged. You’re a work in progress. You’re there to learn and to try stuff. Try it all.

And don’t forget: You are never too young do something great. NEVER. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

Welcome to college. Enjoy it. It goes by just as fast as they say.

The Search For The Secret.

“When you feel like your work is not that good, you’re right there — you have to keep pushing. — Ike Edeani

 
You don’t want to hear this, but… tough. You’re gonna. Deal with it.

When I meet people who are trying to do something new in the world, I hear one thing over and over: They’re looking for the one thing that unlocks their world. The thing that unlocks their creativity. That unlocks doors and unlocks opportunity.

And the dirtiest, scariest, most terrifying secret is this:

There is no one thing. It does not exist.

People matter. Work matters. The willingness to learn matters. An ability to put up with weeks and months and maybe even years of sucking — that matters.

But there is not a secret thing that successful people know. There isn’t.

Successful people do the boring stuff well, and successful people surround themselves with other people who want to help.

That’s all. No secret spells. No secret ingredients.

It’s no magic at all, really. Which is reassuring, I think. The gap between where you are and where you want to be isn’t nearly as big as you think it is. There is nothing you’re missing.

Just the work and the people to get you there. And that’s there for anyone who wants to find it.

That awesome photo at top comes via @zimagin2000.

Stop Talking About The Future. Start Working Today.

“You have to learn to be bad at something before you can learn to be good at something.” — John Oliver

 
If I hear one more talk about the future of my industry, I’m gonna be sick.

The future. Goodness, what the hell do we know about the future?

We have no clue what happens next. None. We are consistently, ridiculously wrong when it comes to predicting the future. We are just bad at it.

Here’s what I’m interested in:

What are we doing now?

What tools are we working with now?

What are we trying to accomplish now?

We shouldn’t stop trying to make our world better, but we have to start now. We know what people are doing now, and how people are reacting now. That’s where we should start.

But we get lost in talking about what’s next.

We are constantly trying to sift through all that’s happening now to predict what’s coming next. That’s where we get lost — trying to follow the thread a little too far into the future. We want to write the story as it’s happening. We all want to feel like we’re a step ahead.

But forget about the future for a second. We chase it too often. We follow it to dead ends.

All we can do is put our work in right now and see where it takes us.

The work leads us to the story, not the other way around. Go do the work. Go ask your colleagues what they’re working on, and try to learn from it.

Just remember: Some predict the future; others make it.

One Day, You Will.


 
One day, you will. You’ll wake up and wonder where all that time went.

When you’re a kid, time passes so slowly. The minutes stretch on for days. A school week feels like ages. Friday never comes.

But one day, you’ll grow up and leave the house, and time will move into another gear. You’re young and you’ve got all the time ahead of you, and then, suddenly, you won’t. You’ll hit 25, and 30 will start staring at you, and then it’ll all move even faster. 30 will come, and then 40. Spouses and kids and jobs and time. So many commitments, and never enough time.

And one day, you’ll wake up and feel old. Old! You won’t know where the feeling came from, or how it got there, but you’ll feel it. And when you say you feel old, what you’re really saying is: I think I’ve missed my shot. I think I missed my chance to do something amazing in this world. I think it’s passed me by.

What you’re really saying is: What the hell have I been doing with myself? Is this all I have to show for this life?

You will.

Or…. you can make a choice. You can choose to fight for a career you love. You can choose the roads you’ll go down, and choose to accept whatever comes next — the failures, the successes, the everything.

You can choose to take risks. You can choose to do the things you want to do, and to write the rules you want to write, and to do whatever the hell you really feel like. You can choose to listen, and to love, and to give, and to do awesome work.

You can choose a big adventure. You can choose a life that’s weird, and scary, and all your own. You can choose that. It’s not the safest path, but you can choose to go your own way.

Or not. It’s entirely your move.

That photo of the unknown trail comes via.

Write It Down.

A year ago this week, my team at Stry.us launched our Springfield bureau. It was an amazing summer, and I can’t believe it’s been a year.

I am thankful for my team, and for our friends and partners in Springfield, and for everyone who helped us make that project go.

But I’m also incredibly thankful for all the notes I took that summer. I’ve been looking back at what I was writing about at the time — all those thoughts and fears and hopes and worries — and I’m so glad I have them. The Springfield bureau was a massive leap for me — professionally, personally and financially. I’m so glad I have a record of where I was a year ago.

I urge you: When you’re working on something new, take some time every night to write down what you’re thinking. Take notes. Document how you feel. Keep a journal.

The best way to discover how much you’e grown is to look back every once in a while from where you’ve come.

———

That photo of downtown Springfield was taken by me.