The 10-Year Plan For Overnight Success.

“Sucking at something is the first step to being sorta good at something.” — Morgan Missen

10 years ago this summer, I started my first internship in journalism. I was 16. That summer, I got an article published in the A section of The Boston Globe, and I thought: This journalism thing is going to be easy. I thought I was going to be a very big deal.

Five years ago this summer, I went to China to cover the Beijing Olympics for the Rocky Mountain News. I was in China, reporting on the biggest sporting event in the world. I was doing good reporting, and my bosses were happy with me. I was convinced: I was going to be a very big deal.

And now it’s five years later, and… well, the words “big deal” probably don’t apply just yet. I’m really happy with where I am in journalism. Thrilled, actually.

But this isn’t what I thought it would be. I had visions of reporting, of telling big feature stories that won big awards, of traveling to tell stories that could change lives. I had huge ambition, and no reason to doubt that everything I wanted would come soon.

I never thought about the work. There was no concept that it was going to take work and time and screw-ups to get somewhere good. Everything came easy: the reporting, the writing, the opportunities. Stuff just seemed to work out.

But I ended up in a pretty great place anyway. I’ve learned about the work. I’ve had leaps forward, and I’ve taken steps back. I have screwed up a lot, and I’m better for it.

Somewhere down the road, I might even get good at whatever it is that I do. I’m 26 now, and I think I’m getting closer. Not close — but definitely closer.

Every once in a while, someone tells me how far along I am. They say I’m doing well — really well for someone this young. They talk about how quickly success has come for me.

And not too far off — maybe a few years down the road, even — there’ll be more of them. They’ll talk about how fast it’s all happened for me. The words “overnight success” might even be used.

And only I will know: I’ll have been an overnight success more than a decade in the making.

06/24/201304/15/2018

Get The Work Out.

“You can’t choose what stays and what fades away.” — Florence Welch

I wrote a thing for BuzzFeed this week about Gmail. I thought it would be a pretty good post — no “What’s The Cheapest, Classiest Way To Get Drunk,” but a good post.

And then it ended up being the biggest post I’ve ever written.

I had no idea. I don’t think anybody had any inkling that it would turn out that way.

We don’t really know what’s going to stick and what won’t. You just put the work out into the world, make it easy to share, and see what happens next.

06/22/201304/15/2018

The Fire.

“There’s a fire burning deep inside / And it’s as mad as it’s mean / It’s hungry as it’s lean / And it’s as fleeting as a dream.” — John Fullbright

Two separate things that happened this week:

The first: A colleague at BuzzFeed died. His name was Michael Hastings, and I never met him. But when you read about him — and you really should — the thing that comes across is a certain fire for his reporting. People at my office described him as passionate, as forceful, as energetic. What a wonderful thing to bring to your work.

The second: I saw a guy play in concert on Thursday. His name is John Fullbright, and he’s a hugely talented songwriter from Oklahoma. Watching him live, he sang with that same passion. He threw himself at the microphone. He sang loud, and played hard. He’s a guy who actually appears to work on stage — he sweats and screams and aches through his music. What a wonderful thing.

It’s an amazing thing to see people doing work they really care about and believe in. The passion comes through. The fire comes through.

I feel lucky to have witnessed glimpses of it this week. That’s what we’re all shooting for, isn’t it?

06/17/201304/15/2018

After The Frustration.

“Innovation happens at the crossroads of frustration with the present and blind optimism about the future.” — Aaron Levie

A lot of really great stuff can come from being mad at where you are. You’re pissed about your job or your friends or your place in the world, and you do something bold. That’s where a project like Stry.us came from.

But frustration is just a little bit of fuel. It might jump start you, but it won’t keep you going.

What keeps you going are boring things: Routine, effort, persistence, teamwork. The frustration convinces you to start the work, but the structure lets you do the work every day.

It’s boring stuff, yes, but it’s also what actually makes great work happen.

That image at top comes via.

06/13/201304/15/2018

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.

06/06/201306/03/2013

Go For It.

“He does shit.” — Bruce Arena, on Clint Dempsey

There’s a guy on the U.S. National Team named Clint Dempsey. As of Sunday, he’s the second-leading scorer in the history of American men’s soccer.

What makes Dempsey so special? It’s a combination of things. He’s got incredible ball skills. He plays with the sort of passion that only great athletes seem to know how to tap into.

And then there’s this third thing, that Grant Wahl of SI quoted so accurately this week: “He does shit.”

Lots of players are technically skilled, but Dempsey has a rare knack for making things happen. He tries shots that no one else will try, and that’s where some of his most impressive goals come from. Call it verve, call it chutzpah, call it brass balls — whatever it is, Dempsey has it. Where other players shy away, Dempsey goes for goal.

Dempsey’s only scored 35 goals in his National Team career [1. In 96 games.], so it’s not like he’s a superhuman goal scorer. But his combination of skill, passion and courage make him an exceptional soccer player.

We should all have that passion, that drive to take big chances.

This week, take a shot you wouldn’t take. Be bold.

05/30/201305/26/2013

You Are Not A Phony.

“It’s all going to be okay.” — Rick Webb

There is a certain point in your life when you realize that you don’t know anything.

Up until that point, you thought you knew what was up. You thought you’d experienced heartbreak. You thought you’d experienced pain.

And then comes this big breakthrough, and you realize, you don’t know jack. You’re just starting your life, and you’re starting from zero, and everyone else seems to know more than you do.

You feel like a fraud, and a phony. You feel like you don’t have anything to offer this world.

And there’s that expression you’ve heard: Fake it ’til you make it. That’s almost true.

Because there’s a second realization that comes a little later: Nobody else knows anything, either.

Everyone, turns out, is kinda faking it. Nobody is just born an astrophysicist or a banker. (And nobody is born or a social media expert.) We mold ourselves into these people. We see what others are doing, we think about what we like to do, and we make ourselves into the people we want to be.

But we are all just making this up — and figuring this out — as we go along. All of us.

And once you realize that, you don’t feel like a phony. You don’t know anything, but hell, neither does anybody else. We’re all just trying to make it work in this world.

So just do good work and surround yourself with good people, and you’ll be okay. It’s normal to feel like you don’t know anything.

We all feel that way, and we’re all in this thing together.

05/27/201305/26/2013

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.

05/16/201305/15/2013

Nobody Knows Anything Before You Start.

“This can be anything you want.” —Louis C.K.

It’s been more than 11 years since Disney announced that they were going to do something unusual: Turn a theme park ride into a movie.

The movie was called “Pirates of the Carribean.” And early on, critics thought it was a terrible idea.

Here’s what one critic had to say about it in March 2002:

“Pirate movies have been bombs for a long time… this is one of those streaks that most producers seem to respect. You have to go back to the 1950’s (and earlier) to find an era when pirate movies were successful and liked. And that, I guess, is why the Pirates of the Caribbean ride was made in the first place, because they didn’t know yet the trend was over.

“….As for a movie with really scary pirates that pulls no punches for the kiddies… don’t be lookin’ ‘ere, arrrrr…”

And the same writer in June 2002, growing a little less skeptical:

“I don’t know whom exactly I thought might be announced as starring in this movie, but I’m pretty sure I wasn’t thinking it would be Johnny Depp.”

And the same writer in April 2003, when the first trailers came out:

“The amazing full trailer for this movie did indeed go up last night…. My anticipation for this movie has been building for some time, but this trailer really locks it in there.

“I think the title of “Pirates of the Caribbean” has had a lot of people scratching their heads (and expecting a dopey movie), but clearly Disney, Bruckheimer, Verbinski, Depp and everyone else involved were not setting out to make *that* sort of PotC movie. They’re apparently totally reinventing the property, separate from what you know about the ride, and from what I can see in this trailer… it looks like it might have worked. Wow.”

That movie went on to make $305 million. Johnny Depp was absolutely awesome in it.

But nobody knew that at the start. At the start, it was just a weird idea. There was no director, no stars. Just an idea.

Ideas aren’t worth very much. Some ideas bomb. Some ideas get the right team behind them and become one of the highest-grossing movie franchises in history.

Nothing really matters until you start — especially not what everyone else is saying.

So just go ahead and start.

05/13/201305/12/2013

The John Prine Test.

There is a John Prine song I absolutely love, called “Angel From Montgomery.” And the last verse includes these two lines:

How the hell can a person go to work in the morning
And come home in the evening and have nothing to say?

So this is the John Prine test: Come home every day this week, and see if you have something to say.

Tell a friend. Call your mother. Write it down. Whatever.

Just come home and see what you have to say.

I find that the people who love their jobs the most talk about them a lot. And the ones who don’t love their work rarely mention it. I know people who have been at the same job for years — and I’ve never been able to get more than a shrug out of them when I ask about work.

I wonder why they stay. Because work should stay with you. It should bother you all day. It should always be on your mind.

You should work somewhere that excites you, where the work stays with you all day. You really do deserve that a place that challenges you like that.