Timing Isn’t Everything — But It’s A Lot.

That’s a photo of a train station in Switzerland

When I was 16 years old, I had a news story published in The Boston Globe. I wish I could tell you it was because of hard work or talent, but it wasn’t. I was interning at a news service in Washington, D.C., and one day, thousands of protestors in yellow shirts marched past our office. I asked my boss if I could go outside and ask them a few questions. Turns out they were protesting against the Chinese government — they were from Falun Gong, and one of their members had been detained in China. They’d rallied to try to pressure China into letting him go. The man detained was from Boston. The news service I worked for had a relationship with The Boston Globe. I got some quotes, wrote up the story, and the next day, read my piece in the paper. Right place, right time, right story — that’s how I ended up in The Boston Globe.

When I was 24 years old, I got a job at BuzzFeed. I wish I could tell you it was because I truly believed that BuzzFeed was about to become one of most influential publishers in the world, but it wasn’t. They were launching a section for feature stories, and I’d been doing a lot of that sort of thing with Stry.us. I was curious about what the were doing, so I reached out to chat. I wasn’t the right person for that role, but they invited me to pitch them on a new role within the company. I’d had some success with my newsletter, Tools for Reporters, and thought email might be a good fit there. They agreed. Right place, right time, right background — that’s how I ended up at BuzzFeed.

When I was 32, I left my job at The New Yorker to start Inbox Collective. I wish I could tell you it was because I knew that email was about to become one of the hottest channels in the digital space, but it wasn’t. I’d been working in this space for several years and had learned a lot. I’d launched Not a Newsletter to share some of the things I’d learned. My readers started reaching out to ask if I could consult for them, and at the same time, I started getting invited to travel both in the U.S. and abroad to speak about newsletters. It seemed like a good moment to take the leap. Right place, right time, right strategy — that’s how I started Inbox Collective.

There are so many things that can make or break an opportunity. Do you have the right skills? Do you have the right team? Do you have the right funding?

But then there’s timing. Whatever you’re working on, it might not work if you’re too late or too soon.

Timing isn’t everything. But it needs to be right for you to have a chance to succeed.

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That’s a photo of a train station in Switzerland. It was taken by Jan Huber for Unsplash.

Overdeliver Without Overwhelming.

that's a screenshot from an audit I produced last fall

Newsrooms sometimes hire me to produce an audit of their email strategy. They’ll give me logins to their email system and their analytics, and I’ll interview key staffers to understand what they’re doing and where there are opportunities to improve. Then I’ll turn my findings into a slide deck.

When I first produced these audits, the final deck was about 50 slides long. But as I did more of these, and started to identify other areas to cover during an audit, the decks started getting longer. 50 slides became 100, and then kept growing from there. My most recent audit checked in at 206 slides.

As a partner for these newsrooms, my job is always to overdeliver. I want to make sure I give them everything they’re looking to learn — and then some.

But last year, I noticed that when I’d present these longer decks, I wasn’t getting much feedback from the newsrooms. They weren’t asking questions about specific slides or tactics, which seemed odd, since they’d been so curious earlier in the process. What had changed? After I followed up with a few clients, I got my answer: I was overwhelming them with information.

So that became my new challenge: How could I overdeliver without overwhelming?

A few changes really helped. Up front, I started setting clearer expectations for what a client could expect from the audit. I told my teams: This is going to be a lot, and I don’t expect you to do every single thing in here. That freed up the teams to pick and choose what tasks to execute on based on my findings. 

I also changed the structure of my presentations. Instead of one big audit reveal at the end, I started coming to my newsrooms with initial findings — a shorter presentation, about 45 minutes long, to talk through the most important topics, and to get feedback about things they wanted to see more of in the audit. That gave them a chance to start thinking through the big themes of the audit before the final deck was presented.

I changed the structure of the deck itself, adding a section at the start with a list of suggested tasks to prioritize. That helped teams understand which tasks were ones to work on right away, and which were ideas to put on the back burner.

I told newsrooms not to invite their entire team to the final audit presentation. Did the sales team really need to sit through 90 minutes of discussion about email deliverability or growth? No, not really. Instead, I started giving the audit presentation to a core group of stakeholders, and then set up smaller presentations to specific teams (sales, product, editorial) so they could focus on the findings most important to them.

And lastly, I started setting up monthly calls to check in with teams after the audit, to talk through their prioritization list, and to help remove any roadblocks in their way.

I’m still searching for other ways to overdeliver without overwhelming. The audit process isn’t perfect, and there are going to be ways to continue to make it even better.

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At top is a slide from an audit presentation to an Inbox Collective client.

It’s OK to Fail. Just Don’t Fail to Pivot Away from Failures.

Post it notes on a white board

If you launch lots of new products or features, several aren’t going to work. You’ll be excited about a big new newsletter launch, and you put it out into the world, and the audience just doesn’t like it. It happens!

The truth is: If you’re not failing, it means you’re probably not trying enough new tests.

And it’s OK to fail! The only mistake you can make is failing to pivot away from your failures.

When you fail, move on quickly. Don’t double down on your mistakes. Keep testing, keep trying. The more you try, the better the chance that you’ll eventually stumble into something that truly works.

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That stock photo of various sticky notes comes via Unsplash and David Travis.

Nobody Noticed.

me, reading my torah portion at my bar mitzvah

I’ve told this story before, but I’ll share it here again.

Two days before my bar mitzvah, I did my final rehearsal at the synagogue. I’d spent months working on my Torah portion, practicing in a language I could read but didn’t fully understand. The day of the rehearsal, I screwed up a line — and completely lost it. I started crying, ran to the bathroom, and locked myself inside.

I was 13 years old, and terrified of screwing up in front of all of my family and friends. And since this was the first of the Oshinsky bar mitzvahs, there were going to be several hundred people in attendance. I was scared of looking dumb in front of all of them.

But the rabbi had good advice. He told me: If you screw up a line, it’s OK! Just go back to the beginning of the line, and read it all over again. Nobody will ever notice.

He was absolutely right. Of the several hundred people in attendance, there wasn’t a single one who spoke Hebrew fluently. (Perhaps a few dozen could read Hebrew, but none could’ve translated what I was saying into English.) Which meant that when I did mess up on the day off, I followed the rabbi’s instructions: I went back to the beginning of the line and read it again. Nobody noticed — mostly because nobody else had spent the previous nine months learning and rehearsing a single Torah portion.

I’ve had the same thing happen when giving a big presentation. I’ll have rehearsed and practiced, but then I’ll flub a line or forget to cover a specific slide. My first reaction is often to beat myself up for making a mistake. But the truth is, only I knew how things were supposed to go.

So when it happens, I let the mistake go, and move on. The truth is, the only person who even noticed was me.

———

That’s a photo from my bar mitzvah, back in May 2000.

Trust Your Turns.

the view from the charlift at Breckenridge, Colorado, in 2021

I’m a pretty good skier on a sunny day. When the light is good on the mountain and I can clearly see the next few turns, I ski with a lot of confidence.

But it’s another thing to ski on a wintry day, when the clouds and the mountain seem to merge into one. When the light is flat, seeing the path ahead gets tricky. On those days, I find myself struggling to maintain control — it feels a little like skiing through fog. A bad turn or two and I lose confidence quickly.

So on those days, I try to adopt a mantra: Trust your turns. I’ve been skiing since I was a kid, and I can get down just about anything. (It won’t always be pretty! But I’ll get down.) And when I tell myself, “Trust your turns,” I’m saying: You know the motion — trust your ability to string turns together, even in low light. Ski just like you would on a blue-sky day.

We all want to be able to clearly see the path ahead. But we can’t always see the next turn — or whatever’s around the next corner. And in times of uncertainty, we can’t just stop and wait for things to clear up. Trust the work you’ve already put in, and the processes you have in place.

Trust your turns, and keep going.

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That’s a photo I took on a sunny day at Breckenridge in 2021.

Be Your Own Biggest Fan.

It’s not all going to go right. You’re going to make mistakes, and you’re going to do things that you wish you could undo.

And when things go wrong, it’s easy to be your own biggest critic. It’s easy to get down on yourself.

But give yourself permission to make mistakes. When things go wrong, try to pick yourself up. Remind yourself that everyone makes mistakes, and that nobody is going to do the right thing every time. Try to cheer yourself on, and push yourself to do better next time — because you know what you’re capable of, and you know that you can show the world how good you can be.

Whatever happened, happened. Now go be your own biggest fan. 

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That image of two people celebrating is about stock footage as it gets. It’s by Priscilla Du Preez for Unsplash.

You Always Have More in the Tank.

runners coming off the 59th Street Bridge, about to make the turn onto 1st Avenue during the 2021 New York City Marathon

My favorite place to watch the New York City Marathon is on 59th Street and 1st Avenue, right at the moment the runners are coming off the bridge from Queens and turning into Manhattan. When runners turn left on 1st Avenue to head north through the Upper East Side, they’re passing mile 16. They’ve already gone through three boroughs — just two remain.

It’s one thing to watch the pro runners, who even at this point in the race seem to be sprinting through the course, and have no doubt that they’ll reach the finish line. But it’s another to see the regular runners — our neighbors here in New York, or runners who’ve traveled from all over to take part in this race — making that turn. I love to see how people react when they reach that point in the race. They’ve already run 16 miles, a distance I don’t think I’ll ever run in a single day. They’ve been up all day, and they’re obviously tired. But when they see the crowds and hear the cheers, they look reenergized.

I know those runners must have moments of doubt along the way. 26.2 miles is forever, and reaching Manhattan still means they’ve only covered three-fifths of the day’s distance. But I also know that thousands of runners complete the marathon ever year, which means that thousands of ordinary people find the strength to keep moving forward. How do they do it? Maybe it’s because the crowd picks you up, or because they’ve spotted a certain landmark that reminds them how close they are to the finish line. Or maybe it’s something else. Maybe there’s something inside all of us that gives us the courage to keep going.

Sometimes, when I watch runners make that turn at 59th and 1st, it seems like they’re picking up speed, even after 16 miles. How? I’m not sure. But I know that ever year, I watch runners do what seems impossible: Find a little left in the tank to take that next stride.

———

I took that photo today, right at the moment runners are about to turn onto 1st Avenue.

Optimize for Curiosity.

a magnifying glass shows a path forward in the forest

When you’re building a new strategy, you’ve got choices on what to optimize for: Growth, engagement, or revenue.

Or you can make another choice: To optimize solely for curiosity.

What might that mean?

Recognizing that a good test starts with a great question — so you need to ask as many questions as you can.

Finding a team that’s able to step back from the little details to ask, “I know this is a bit different, but what would happen if we tried this?”

Being humble enough to avoid doubling down on a good idea that didn’t quite work.

Keeping yourself open to new possibilities, even if they don’t seem obvious at first.

Understanding that you’ll never have all the answers. The only way forward is to have an open mind and keep asking questions.

Whatever you’re working on, remember this: Curious people make the best teammates. Find people who are always curious, and you’ll build a team that builds a great strategy in the long run.

———

That photo of a magnifying glass comes via Steven Wright and Unsplash.

The Power of Small, Weekly Habits.

a screenshot of one folder of newsletter examples

A year ago, I realized that clients were asking me, over and over again, for examples of certain things:

Dan, do you have any examples of great pop-ups to convert readers from our website to our newsletter?

Have you seen any good examples of promotions on Instagram?

Do you have any examples you can share of amazing welcome emails?

So I started compiling examples into a big Google Drive file, and shared it with clients. But then I made another choice: I added a weekly note to my calendar to keep adding to the Drive. I created a folder on my laptop where I could store examples that I’d noticed over the course of the week, and then, every Friday, I’d upload them to Drive.

Sometimes I only have an example or two to upload on Friday, and sometimes, I’ll have dozens. But over the course of a year, I’ve uploaded hundreds of examples that I can refer clients to. It’s not an exaggeration to say that this one project has changed the way I work with clients. It’s one thing for me to be tell them about the concept, but it’s another to be able to show them a handful of great examples from their peers.

And had I decided to, say, update the file every month or every quarter, I’m not sure I would’ve stuck with it. (It took a lot of work to upload that first, giant batch of examples!) Instead, by focusing on a small, weekly habit, it feels so much more manageable — and the long-term result has been so much more than I ever could’ve expected.

———

That’s a screenshot of the pop-ups folder. There are now more than 30 examples of pop-ups I love that I can share with clients.

Still Not Dead.

Willie Nelson on stage in Saratoga Springs

I saw Willie Nelson perform on Sunday, and here’s something I didn’t realize about Willie until he walked out on stage: He’s 88 years old.

88! And still performing live, currently on a 14-stop tour over two months in 10 states!

Now, at that age, nobody’s expecting Willie Nelson to go out and play a marathon set. But I was impressed by the way Willie still found a way to put on a great show:

• He limited the set list to an hour — he’s played about 11 songs per night on the 2021 tour so far, instead of what had been 17 song sets pre-pandemic, per data on Setlist.fm.

• He loaded the lineup with not one but three openers, stretching what would be a normal concert into a six-hour-long festival.

• He toured with his son, J. Micah Nelson, and let him take lead on a few songs. (Willie’s kids can really play, so fans didn’t mind Willie taking a step out of the spotlight for a few minutes.)

• He didn’t waste much time with banter, saying a few words between songs — or just moving right into the next number.

All in all, it meant a set with a lot of hits and very little filler. I’m sure Willie would love to have the energy of a younger artist, able to go out and play for 2+ hours as a headliner. But he’s 88, and he’s got some limitations — and he still found a way to make it work.

As Willie sang that night: He’s still not dead, and still on the road. Impressive stuff.

———

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That’s a photo I took of Willie and his band on September 12, 2021, in Saratoga Springs, New York.