For years, I practiced. I wrote when I felt inspired, but never shared anything. I was afraid to call myself a writer and would often sabotage my work. All the while, I was avoiding one painful truth: I was kidding myself. I wasn’t really writing. I was just practicing.

Photo credit: woodleywonderworks (Creative Commons)

The pointlessness of practice

Every writer has work she is afraid to share. It may be a manuscript, an essay, or an unpublished blog post. She thinks it is both terrible and wonderful at the same time. It is probably both.

Here’s the truth: Until the world sees it, it doesn’t matter.

Do you know what practicing without a deadline will get you? Nothing. No book deals. No audience. No money. And although writers don’t write for accolades, I believe many hope their words will move people.

You have something to say, and there is someone who needs to hear it. But if all you ever do is practice, that won’t happen.

One of my favorite writers on the craft of writing, Marion Roach Smith, says this about writing with intent:

Writing is good, honest work. And it cannot be reduced to generic writing exercises and pre-fabricated prompts. And ask yourself these questions: Have any of those ditties ever gotten you published? Has scribbling from the right side of your brain, or getting in touch with your angel’s feather, or keeping morning pages put you where you want to be as a writer? After reading one of those books of exercises, or subscribing to yet another web-based, prompt-list newsletter, have you actually finished that letter to your child that you long to give her? I doubt it. I suspect that those manners of nonsense have instead stolen what little time you had for writing.

Listen, you only have so much time. You can either spend it trying to make your words count, or you can spend it practicing.

Marion recently told me about a writing course she teaches that is full of people recovering from writing prompts. They are disillusioned and frustrated. Do you know what she tells them? To stop practicing, write what they know, and share it.

The right kind of practice

I don’t have anything against practice, so long as there is a point to it.

For example, I like to run. I go for a light jog maybe two or three times a week. When I feel like it.

For years, I told myself I would run a half-marathon — someday. I downloaded practice sheets from the Internet and started rigorous training schedules. And I would fail every single time. Year after year.

Why? Because I wasn’t serious. I hadn’t yet committed.

One day, I registered for a race. Then, it was different. I had a deadline. I spent some money. I wasn’t ready, but I decided to start anyway. I no longer had the luxury of convenience and as a result, I had to show up and train every day.

While training, I ran at least five times a week with an average of five to six miles per run (and more, as the weeks progressed). Some days, I felt great. Others, I was as sore as can be. Regardless, I got up and ran, anyway.

When race day came, I was ready. In fact, I was in better shape than I had ever been. All because of a deadline. Because I did the right kind of practice — the kind where you’ve got some skin in the game.

How this applies to writing

I did the exact same thing with writing. I talked about it. Dreamed about it. I even wrote about it in my journal, setting arbitrary goals. But it didn’t become real until I started doing it.

I recently received an email from a writer who’s struggling with time management. He told me his days are consumed with urgent tasks; when he has time to write, he no longer feels inspired. “What should I do?” he asked.

Here’s what I told him (and what I would tell you): Write anyway. Act like a professional. Treat this like a job, not a hobby. Until you do that — until you start training for something — you’re only kidding yourself.

Of course, you don’t have to do that. If you’re okay with your words never getting read and never seeing your work published, then by all means, continue. Otherwise, it’s time for a change.

It’s time to stop practicing and start training. To quit screwing around. It’s time to write for real.

This is habit-forming: start small and build. Begin with a blog. Then a guest post. After that, submit a few pitches to websites and magazines. Before you know it, you’ll have a portfolio, maybe even a book in the works.

Perhaps without even realizing it, you’ll be doing what you’ve always wanted: writing for real. As you do this, you may find yourself questioning you’re identity less. You may discover that you are, in fact, a writer. Not someone who talks about writing or dreams about it. But someone who actually does the dirty, nasty, wonderful work of writing.

What do you say? Isn’t it about time you started writing for real? If you want to make it official, declare it on Facebook or tell the world on Twitter: Tweet

*Photo credit: woodleywonderworks (Creative Commons)

Photo credit: Photos.com

In life, there are always excuses:

• “The dog ate my homework…”
• “I was dropped when I was a baby…”
• “I don’t have enough time…”
• “The boss won’t let me…”
• “Nobody understands…”
• “I’m scared…”
• “It costs too much…”
• “How will I pay the bills?”
• “That’s just a good idea…”
• “I could never…”

All of the above are fine reasons to not act.

That is, unless you’re talking about your dream, your passion — the thing you’ve been put on this earth to do.

Unless you’re talking about the very thing that keeps you up at night, the reason you got out of bed this morning, the obsession that drives you to do work that matters.

In which case, you have no choice. You have to find a way to do it. You have to figure out how to get to your dream.

But the problem is that excuses abound and resistance is all around us. We are being held back.

How do we actually move forward? How do we overcome the rationalizations and find the path to our passion?

The solution is both simple and hard: GET OVER IT.

Find a way to do what you were created to do, anyway. Find a route around the obstructions. And start doing it, whatever “it” may be: writing, starting a business, moving overseas, whatever.

Bottom line? It’s time to start.

Here’s how it works

Get up early.
Stay up late.
Persevere.

Don’t quit.
Press in.
Work harder.

This won’t be easy. And if you do it right, it could cost you everything. But it will be worth it.

So get started. Move.

No looking back now.
It’s all or nothing.
This is the real deal.

Do you have what it takes? Are you willing to go the distance? To give up your excuses and really make a difference?

Here’s how you begin

First, tell the truth.

No more lies, no more stalling. No more giving reasons to not do what you were made to do.

No one is holding you back, but you.

You have more opportunity that you realize. More chances to succeed than you know. Time to believe it.

Second, do something. Anything. Just start moving. You’d be surprised how real and legitimate excuses step aside as you make room for your dream.

By the way, if you need help launching your writing dreams, check out my new eBook.

Oh it’s such a drag, what a chore
Oh your wounds are full of salt.
Everything’s a stress and what’s more
Well, it’s all somebody’s fault.

—O.K. Go

For further motivation, read this article: Your Big Idea Is Not Enough.

And if you’re visiting this blog for the first time, check out the about page and find out how to get free updates.

So, what’s really holding you back? Share your excuses in the comments. And then, let them go.

Photo credit: Henry Bush (Creative Commons)

Before you write your first book, you should publish at least a dozen magazine articles. Maybe more.

Until you cut your teeth on a few shorter pieces, you’re probably not ready for the challenge of writing an entire book.

So how do you get started?

Well, believe it or not, the hardest part of getting published in a magazine isn’t the writing.

The hardest part is getting noticed.

The problem

A lot of freelance writers make a big mistake. They come up with a writing topic that would make for a good article for a magazine or website. And then, they spend way too much time on the idea without ever getting feedback.

They waste hours or even days writing the piece.

Then, they try to find someone to publish it. And they fail miserably. 

This is backwards thinking. It assumes you know your audience better than the publisher does. (Even if you do, this attitude won’t get you very far.) It’s better to start with a few loose ideas and contact the publisher before moving forward with the piece.

The whole point is just to get on their radar. Which is the most difficult part. If you can do that (and be taken seriously), you’re in.

Relationship and conversation are more important than good ideas and great writing. At least, at first.

The solution

Instead of cold-pitching your ideas to publishers, do something better: Build a relationship.

But before you do that, do your homework. Study the publisher’s guidelines. Read sample pitches, if they’re available. Email friends or colleagues who have gotten their work published with them. Find out what works.

Then, try it out.

You may only get one shot at this. Better make it count.

The process

• Present your ideas in a way that is a clear “win” for the publication. It’s not about you wanting to get published; it’s about how you can serve the publisher. Show them that.
• Explain how your piece will be relevant to their readership. Talk about why your voice is uniquely suited to reach their readers, how it will further the vision of the publication, etc. In other words, do a little bit of selling (they’re thinking, “What’s in it for me?”)
• Offer samples of other pieces you’ve done. Have something to show them — anything. Just don’t show up empty-handed. This is how they know you’re not wasting their time. (I often send editors a link to my portfolio.)
• Be courteous and to the point. Say “please” and “thank you.” Include a signature with contact info. Use short paragraphs. Cut out any unnecessary words. Act like a professional.

This works for magazine, trade publications, and even websites. And it can all be done via email.

The epiphany

To be honest, this process kind of surprised me. I thought the process of getting published in a magazine would’ve been more glamorous or complicated. Maybe including a handful of phone calls and legal debates with a few martinis thrown in for good measure.

As it turns out, content is not king. Relationship is.

If you want to get published, start making connections with publishers, so that when the ideas come, they’ll actually pay attention to your work.

When that happens, you won’t have to worry about pitching your work anymore. You’ll just be emailing an old friend.

By the way, this “secret” applies to book publishing, too. Having the right connections (with the right content) is essential. The good news is you can start small — with a magazine article or guest post on a friend’s blog — and build from there. Good luck.

How to get your writing noticed now

If you liked this post, you should check out my two new eBooks (the content for this article was excerpted from the second one):

• Every Writer’s Dream is a quick eBook about how to build a platform and get noticed so that you never have to pitch your writing again. In it, I explain how to use a blog (or any asset) to reach your tribe and build your brand.
• Before Your First Book is a brief guide to getting noticed by magazines, websites, and other publications, so that you can start building a writing portfolio. It’s about how to “fake” your way into success, so that you don’t have to worry about cold calling and query letter writing.

You can get both of them for $2.99 this week when you use the code “stopstalling” (offer expires this Friday). Find out more and get both eBooks here: How to Get Published without Trying

Chat with me LIVE

Want to know more about how this works? I recently did an exclusive interview with my friend Don McAllister about writing, publishing, building a platform, and more. The interview went well (lots of great questions and discussion). We’ll be sharing the transcript soon. Be sure you’re subscribed so you get the update.

*Photo credit: Henry Bush (Creative Commons)

Jason Fried

Jason Fried of the software company 37 Signals once posted a tweet, saying how sad it is when business surveys set “satisfied” as their highest metric for success on a customer survey.

What a  “low bar,” he lamented.

I’m inclined to agree. But not just for business. For life and everything we do.

What an indictment this is. Against our malaise, our work, and our lives.

How often do we give up when we should persevere? How often to we opt out and say “no” when life gets a little tough? How often do we settle for mere satisfaction when truly abundant life awaits us?

Certainly, we can do better than just “satisfied” — right?

Satisfaction is keeping us from our best work

I believe it was Steven Pressfield who said in an interview that if you do something long enough, if you get serious about any craft (including writing), there comes a time when it begins to “kick your ass.”

When you break down and cry, because it’s just so hard — that’s a great place to be. Because you’re beginning to treat your work with care. You’re beginning to act like a professional.

This is when the real work begins.
When you feel anything but satisfied and just want to give up.
This is your first step towards mastery.

Having a little discontent is good. It’s okay to be unsettled, to want more, to strive for the seemingly unattainable. This is the stuff that dreams are made of, the place where faith is required, and how true artists spend their whole lives.

Don’t avoid the dissatisfaction. Live in it. Move through it. Keep wanting more.

The other extreme

Of course, there is the other side of the spectrum — the life of the perfectionist. Where nothing ever feels good enough, when no one could ever please you, when your desires are unreasonable and your appetite insatiable. Make no mistake: that’s no way to live.

The “George Bailey” way of looking at the world — questioning your significance — is not good for anyone. Because your life is probably better than you think. You have more of an opportunity to make an impact than you realize. The trick is to do something with it.

Don’t just wallow.
Work towards something that matters.
Leave a legacy.

Our choice to give in to mere satisfaction or press into a more inspiring life is just that: a choice. It hinges on our ability to see beyond our own myopia, believe our lives have purpose, and do something that makes a difference

If you do this, we all win. Because the whole world benefits when you give it a gift. And what is that gift? YOU. The whole messy thing. No cut corners. No mere satisfaction. All of you.

This applies to everything

When you are satisfied, your work suffers. So do your relationships and craft. Because “satisfaction” is just another word for status quo.

And no one ever speaks up when things are good enough.

Make no mistake: “good enough” will always erode people’s confidence. It will lead to divorce, losing all your clients, and a legacy no one remembers. Sure, nobody will complain now, but trust me: little by little, you’re losing this fight.

If you’re going to do epic stuff, don’t wait till people complain before you change things. Then, it’s too late. You’ve already lost.

Always be pushing.
Always be tweaking.
And always be obsessing over making something better.

This doesn’t mean you don’t ship. You still have to put something out there. You still have to hit publish and release your work into the world.

But it means the things you build, the words you write, the work you do, better not suck.

This is the stuff of weirdos — how the “crazy ones” live their lives — and the only way you ever have a hope of doing something that matters.

So, how’s your business? Your marriage? Your work? Your life?

Are you satisfied? That’s not enough. (It never was.)

If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.

—C.S. Lewis

By the way, many of you kind folks bought a copy of Every Writer’s Dream over the weekend. Thanks to the 200 or so of you who did. You can find out more about it — and get your copy — here.

I thought about this today, when I heard about the death of former Penn State head coach Joe Paterno. And I thought about the art we create, the lives we lead, and the stories people will tell about us.

Photo credit: daveyin (Creative Commons)

Although I’m not much of a college football fan, the story of one man’s mistake and the legacy he will leave resonated with me. It made me take notice of how I’m living my life and the importance of a single decision.

I don’t know how people will remember Paterno, but I fear he will go down in history for how his career ended.

Today, I made my debut on The Huffington Post with this article: A Lesson on Legacy from Joe Paterno. Here’s an excerpt:

Joe Paterno, the former Penn State football coach, died today at the age of 85. His life was full of impressive accomplishments, including two national championships, five victories in major bowl games, and the record for most victories for a major-college coach. Unfortunately, he may be most remembered for a child sex scandal for which he was fired in November of 2011.

In writing the piece, I came across a quote from an interview Paterno did with USA Today: “I didn’t know exactly how to handle it and I was afraid to do something that might jeopardize what the university procedure was.”

I thought that was interesting. So while still trying to honor the man’s memory, I wrote about what we can learn from his life (failures and all).

Paterno was a humanities guy. He studied English at an ivy league university and loved the Aeneid. He saw his work as that of an educator. He had an impressive love for literature, which affected his outlook on life.

Interestingly, his story very much follows that of a classical hero with one tragic flaw that ultimately leads to his downfall.

There is a lesson here worth noting. For all of us who consider ourselves artists and heroes of our own stories — people who want to do work that leaves an impact — we need to understand something:

Sometimes, tragedy befalls us. Sometimes, bad things happen. How we respond to what life brings is what forms character and defines legacy.

Perhaps not coincidentally, I caught the film Frida on TV today — which tells the amazing and painful story of the 20th century Mexican artist Frida Kahlo. Her life was riddled with both physical and emotional suffering.

It left me thinking about the tortured lives of artists and how what we’re remembered for is not completely in our control. Nonetheless, it’s our responsibility to be faithful with our gifts, speak up for those without a voice, and trust the outcome.

Did Paterno do everything right? I don’t know. Should Frida have left her womanizing, lying husband for good? I can’t say for sure. But looking at them both makes me want to be sure I do all I can with what I have.

[T]here is a greater lesson to be learned by this man’s life and from any hero who falls. The lesson is this: You cannot delegate influence. You cannot defer your story to another. It is yours and yours alone.

Read the rest here.

Have you ever made a tragic mistake, because you trusted others to do the right thing?

*Photo credit: daveyin (Creative Commons)

I thought it might help to share with you what I did this past year. Maybe the lessons I’ve learned can help you realize your dream of publishing a book sooner than you think.

There were three things I did that made it possible to get a book contract in less than eight months — all without having to write a single book proposal.

Photo credit: vlasta2 (Creative Commons)

If you want to write books, then start here:

1. Build a platform

Publishers and literary agents all have one important question when you submit a book idea or proposal to them:

Do you have a platform?

What they mean by this is, “Do you have influence?” Can you speak, and people will listen?

Do you have authority on a particular subject and a way to communicate it? Have people given you permission to share information with them?

Types of platforms

There are various types of platforms:

• Radio show
• Podcast
• Television program
• YouTube channel
• Newspaper or magazine column
• Blog

The trick is to pick one that matches your voice and start building it. It will take time, patience, and permission. A great primer on this subject would be Seth Godin’s Permission Marketing.

One crucial tool for building your platform is respect. You will need to respect people. Never spam them, always add value. And you will win.

Right now, a popular platform type for emerging authors is a blog. It’s what I used, and it worked.

You can do the same.

2. Create a personal brand

Authors have brands. This goes beyond your personality and likes/dislikes. It has to do with your writing voice and what’s relevant to an audience.

Not every aspect of your personality will be represented in your brand. And that’s okay.

You will need to pick the right tone for the group you’re trying to reach and focus on sharing what matters most to others.

What a brand is not

A brand is NOT the subject of your blog. It’s how you color your subject; it’s a particular flair that makes you, the writer, unique. You can write about cooking or entrepreneurship and still have the same voice.

The good news is that with a blog, you can try out different ways to represent yourself until you find what works for you and your readers.

Everything you do needs to connect with this representation of yourself. Your headshots, blog header, etc. all need to support this brand, as well.

3. Find your tribe

Publishing isn’t just about writing. It’s about relationships, too. You have to know the right people to get noticed. And the best way to do that is to find your tribe of followers and fans who will support you.

A tribe is different from a platform. Whereas a platform is the asset you use to reach an audience, your tribe consists of the people that help you build it.

Who makes up your tribe

There are three types of people who make up a tribe:

• Fans
• Friends
• Advocates

Fans buy your work. The best way to earn them is to be generous. (Try giving away a free eBook — here’s mine.)

Friends help you grow in your craft. The best way to connect with other writers who can help you is to network (often by doing favors).

Advocates help you build your reach. The way to get on their radar is to do quality work and look for opportunities to serve.

You need all three in order to make the right connections to see your platform grow and eventually land yourself a book contract.

Why traditional publishing?

I am a fan of the recent trend of self-publishing and authors making it happen without the permission of gatekeepers. I love that attitude; it’s what got me started blogging in the first place and, ironically, led to my book contract.

However, I still think there is a good deal traditional publishers have to offer first-time authors. In particular, I am looking forward to learning the process of how a book comes to be. Any money I make is an added bonus (not a financial necessity).

Plus, there is still a lot of authority that comes with being a “published author.” Since not anyone can do it (like with self-publishing), having a book deal with a traditional publisher can be a good way to build your clout. Of course, it’s not for everyone, and I completely respect that.

That said, I think traditional publishing will either evolve or go away completely. There are already plenty of authors who are successfully selling books without ever going through a publisher.

Whatever you do, the thing that you cannot do is wait to be picked. Either build your platform and get a book contract, or build your platform and self publish. But don’t just sit there and dream. We don’t have time for that.

Stop stalling and just start.

If you need more help with getting published, check out these resources:

• Every Writer’s Dream by Me (I just added a bonus section to this — a 49-page eBook guide to feature writing.)
• The Unconventional Guide to How to Publish Your Book by Chris Guillebeau
• Writing a Winning Book Proposal by Michael Hyatt

*Photo credit: vlasta2 (Creative Commons)

Disclosure: Some of the above links are affiliate links.

Before we do that, though, I want to share with you the full title. The book will be called Wrecked: When a Broken World Slams into Your Comfortable Life (Moody Publishers).

It’s about how people’s paradigms change due to exposure to pain and brokenness and how that shapes their faith in God and understanding of the world.

The following are four mockups — each of which are very different treatments of the title and concept.

Concept #1

Concept #2

Concept #3

Concept #4

If you’d like to help me pick a cover, answer the following questions (fill out the form below):

We’ll take your feedback into consideration as we decide on the final design. Thanks for being willing to help. Your answers will remain confidential.

Feel free to share more in the comments: Which book cover did you like and why?

“I glanced up, caught sight of my brother’s body floating facedown in the deep end. I threw open my window, and slammed into the screen. I punched and tore and kicked my way through, rolling out onto the roof and stumbling towards the edge, the shingles slicing holes in my knees and elbows. My boots caught the gutter and ripped it from the house, and I jumped.”

The above story belongs to a young man desperately seeking truth and redemption. It takes place after his return home to face his family and a tragedy they held him responsible for.

His name is Nathan, and like the rest of us, he’s made plenty of mistakes. His story is a powerful one of forgiveness and second chances.

Much like your story. Much like mine.

The only difference between our stories and Nathan’s is his story is entirely fictional.

However, it’s true, nonetheless.

Photo credit: smlp.co.uk (Creative Commons)

How can this be? How can we find meaning in made-up stories?

The fact is fiction is often closer to the truth than what surrounds us on a daily basis.

Every day, we lie to ourselves to avoid facing the discomfort of our anxiety, hurt, and betrayal (just to name a few feelings).

But the art of storytelling can bring those feelings front and center, forcing us to face them and deal with the truth. In other words, stories help us live again.

Fiction teaches us about our own stories

Nathan is the hero of his story. Just as I am the hero of mine. And you are the hero of yours.

But I am also the villain of another story. Perhaps many stories. For I’ve broken hearts, lied, cheated, intentionally harmed, and said “no” to commitments when the cost was high.

And if you’re guilty of those acts, you’ve been the villain, too.

Everyone in Nathan’s life — in their stories — views him as the villain. But his villain, the opposition in his story, is lust.

For some of us, our villains are our fathers, mothers, bullies, alcohol, or even our friends.

Anything that keeps you from being who you were made to be is a villain. It’s opposition. Resistance.

And you must fight it with everything have.

The importance of using broken people

“You write a lot on damaged and dysfunctional people,” one critic pointed out after reading the short story featuring Nathan. He wanted to know what appeals to me in that sort of storytelling.

“I write what I know,” I told him.

Life is ugly. Life is broken. And therein lies its beauty. We live in a fallen world where redemption lies in being broken. That’s why I write about it.

The best stories are full of darkness. Take a look at the Bible, for example. The most religious book in our culture is full of rape, murder, incest, betrayal, sex, adultery, violence, and war. And in the end, through all of that, someone trades his life to save the lives of many. No wonder it still leaves such an impact.

Great stories need darkness. Because it obscures beauty. Sometimes, we need to dive into the darkness to find the beauty life has to offer. That’s where the adventure awaits.

If all art was safe and clean, we’d never see the light. We’d never be saved, never be redeemed.

I tell stories in an attempt to reach the broken, the defeated, and the hopeless. I want to connect with the lost. Because at one point or another, we’ve all been lost.

The power of stories

Storytelling is the most powerful way I know to convey a cause, spread an idea, or inspire hope.

We all know this. You mention Homer and The Odyssey, Romeo and Juliet, or — God help us — Twilight, and people immediately know what you are talking about. You’re talking about story. Stories that have and will live on forever.

Those stories made us feel. We relate to the journey of The Odyssey, the helpless infatuation of teenage love in Romeo and Juliet, or the reminder Edward gives us that being seventeen forever has its drawbacks.

Maya Angelou once said, “People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

Our lives are the greatest stories ever told.

We make those around us feel every single day. We excite them and bore them. We make them angry or make their day. We have the power to change, to inspire, and to destroy.

The power of story lies within us

We live in a culture saturated with social media where everyone has the ability to pick up a megaphone and shout.

Bloggers are the modern-day storytellers in the likes of Hemingway, Poe, and Kerouac. But far too often, we storytellers play it safe.

Very few of us are telling stories, let alone personal accounts. Instead our readers are drowning in statistics and self-help.

We need more stories.

And if you don’t think you have one, make no mistake: If you’re living, breathing, and reading this right now, you have a story to tell.

I found success when I started sharing mine.

I told my story. And Nathan’s. And so many others.

It’s time for you to tell yours.

* * *

Read more of Max’s stories in his short fiction collection, We Can’t Go Home Again, available now on Amazon for only 99 cents. (Affiliate link)

What do you think fiction and creative storytelling can teach us about life and truth? Share in the comments.

*Photo credit: smlp.co.uk (Creative Commons)

Photo credit: Mike Licht (Creative Commons)

Martin Luther King, Jr. left us a legacy. He taught us as much through what he did as through what he said. (Maybe more.)

One of the many lessons Dr. King exemplified was the effectiveness of a life lived out loud — one in which a person’s words are backed by considerable action.

He showed us that our lives must be lived intentionally and without regret, that our words mean something and we must speak up in the face of injustice.

He taught us that it is one thing to say you have an idea and quite another to act on it. The man’s courage still inspires millions of people today.

I’m glad he spoke up. And then acted.

We are all better for it.

Here are several other lessons we learn from this pioneer of civil rights (all quotes are from Dr. King):

You must speak with conviction

Words ring hollow when you declare something with wavering, weak words.

When your message lacks conviction, we all notice. It would be better for you to say nothing than to mutter a few wimpy phrases followed by parenthetical caveats and exceptions.

MLK never spoke like this.

He understood that if you are going to change things, you will need to be bold. Your words, as well as your life, will have to reflect this.

You may have to say something that is hard. You may be required to challenge the status quo.

Be absolutely sure of what you say before you say it. And then, just say the thing. No pussyfooting about it.

All stories are intertwined

All I’m saying is simply this, that all life is interrelated, that somehow we’re caught in an inescapable network of mutuality tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly.

We cannot attempt to live — or tell — a compelling story without being conscious of others. Everything we do is affected by and has an effect on other people. We are in this together.

Until we realize this, we are not living to our fullest potential. We are, instead, aimlessly and irresponsibly wandering like adolescents.

Until we start telling stories that unfold symbiotically, we are not telling truth. We are simply reciting fairy tales.

The truth is we need more honest stories that call us into a deeper reality.

This is where we all long to live.

Speaking the truth is always dangerous

There is nothing safe about being honest, nothing comfortable about doing the right thing. If anything, when you are committed to saying what needs to be said, it will likely get you into trouble.

The tough part is that the fruit of the message may be worth the pain.

But you’re the one who has to decide. Choose wisely before opening your mouth, and be aware of the consequences. This may cost you your life.

Of course, if you don’t speak, it could cost you something far greater.

In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.

Your goal should never be popularity

It is a dangerous thing to strive for the popular vote.

As a communicator and leader, you will be asked to compromise all kinds of values to please others. Sometimes, this is good; it teaches you flexibility and humility. But the practice of consensus-building can be very, very bad.

Steven Jobs showed us that people often don’t know what they want or need until it is revealed to them.

If you are offering a new paradigm, you cannot assume they’ll know what you’re talking about. You have to show your audience the Promised Land before they’ll want to go there.

You can use this information to coerce people or help them — it’s up to you.

Whatever you do, beware the temptations of flattery. If all you’re doing is following the status quo, you’re neither leading nor communicating. You’re entertaining.

A genuine leader is not a searcher for consensus but a molder of consensus.

The first person you need to convince is yourself

MLK often spoke about the importance of believing in yourself before trying to convince others to do so.

He knew that if we doubt ourselves, so will others.

He also knew that human beings cannot act according to their identity until they believe it about themselves.

In the field of writing, we see this to be especially true: “A writer is a writer when he says he is,” says Steven Pressfield.

This may be the most important lesson Dr. King taught us: we are what we are when we decide to be it. May we honor his memory today by boldly being and believing who we are.

If you can’t see the video in your email or RSS feed, click here to watch it.

What lessons have you learned from the life and legacy of MLK? Share in the comments.

*Photo credit: Mike Licht (Creative Commons)

There are few symbols in the world as powerful as that green lady. When people look at her, they don’t see oxidized copper and a museum.

They see freedom.
They see beginning.
They see new life.

Great art is powerful

It goes beyond the mere physical realm; it supersedes the moment.

I wonder if the ancient Jews felt a similar sense of significance when they saw the Second Temple of Jerusalem being rebuilt after the exile.

The rest of the city was still in shambles, but rebuilding the temple was their priority.

The temple was more than just a place of worship and sacrifice; it was an icon of solidarity.

It was hope.

A symbol can be a powerful thing.

A good symbol is powerful, precisely because it doesn’t point to itself.

Great art always points to something else

My friend Jerry used to work with Steve Jobs. Scribbled on the whiteboard in his office is a quote that has always resonated with me:

“Design should never say, ‘Look at me.’ It should always say, ‘Look at this.’”

If a powerful symbol, like the Christian cross or the American flag, becomes fashionable or trendy, it loses its meaning. It was never intended to be “art for art’s sake.”

The same can be said for the swastika or the sickle and hammer — these symbols are powerful (albeit, negatively) not because of what they are, but because of what they represent.

A symbol is a means to an end.

If it points to itself, it becomes arbitrary and loses its significance.

Take a step back

I love Claude Monet‘s paintings (especially the Water Lilies series).

When you see a Monet, you don’t look at the paint. You look between the brushstrokes and beyond the oil paint and canvas. His style is intentionally exaggerated and obscured to elicit in the viewer an emotional feeling.

This is how great art works.

It does something to your soul, makes you feel like you’re actually there for a moment — not because of how it looks, but because of how it makes you feel.

The art isn’t there just to look good. It’s there to make an impression.

So it is with your “art” — the gift that you have to give the world.

It’s not just a piece of work; it’s a symbol of something more.

The artist has a responsibility

If you’re not careful, the gift can focus on the wrong place — that is, the artist. This is tempting for those of us who create. When people recognize our work, it makes us feel fulfilled and significant.

But that was never the intention.

Great art is transcendent. It points to something beyond itself and the one who made it.

This is why the Greeks believed in essences and muses. They knew something that we’ve forgotten: Art describes the invisible world; it hints at the hidden story.

There should be great trepidation and freedom when the artist acknowledges this. There should be a burden that accompanies any creative act. The call to create is both an awesome opportunity and responsibility.

Wield it with caution and appreciation.

What kind of art are you creating? Does it point to something else, something other, something transcendent?