Creative Work

“Distraction,” Simplicity, and Running Toward Shitstorms

Merlin — Tue, 05 Oct 2010 19:49:56 -0400

It can scarcely be denied that the supreme goal of all theory is to make the irreducible basic elements as simple and as few as possible without having to surrender the adequate representation of a single datum of experience.

—Albert Einstein, “On the Method of Theoretical Physics” (1934)

Context: Last week, I pinched off one of my typically woolly emails in response to an acquaintance whom I admire. He’s a swell guy who makes things I love, and he'd written, in part, to express concern that my recent Swift impersonation had been directed explicitly at something he'd made. Which, of course, it hadn’t—but which, as I'll try to discuss here, strikes me as irrelevant.

To paraphrase Bogie, I played it for him, so now I suppose I might as well play it for you.

(n.b.: Excerpted, redacted, munged, and heavily expanded from my original email)

There are at least a couple things that mean a lot to me that I'm still just not very good at.

Make nuanced points in whatever way they need to be made; even if that ends up seeming “un-nuanced”

Never explain yourself.

I want to break both these self-imposed rules privately with you here. [Editor’s Note: Um.] Because, I hope to nuance the shit out of some fairly un-nuanced points. And, to do that, I'll also (reluctantly) need to explain myself. But, here goes.

First [regarding my goofing on “distraction-free writing environments”] I think there are some GIANT distinctions at play here that a lot of folks may not find nearly as obvious as I do:

Tool Mastery vs. Productivity Pr0n – Finding and learning the right tools for your work vs solely dicking around with the options for those tools is just so important, but also so different. And, admittedly, it’s almost impossible to contrast those differences in terms of hard & fast rules that could be true for all people in all situations. But, that doesn’t make the difference any less qualitatively special or real.

Similarly…

Self-Help Vs. “Self”–“Help” – Solving the problem that caused the problem that caused the problem that caused the symptom we eventually noticed. Huge. Arguably, peerless.

Viz.: How many of us ignore the actual cause of our problem in favor of just reading dozens of blog posts about how to “turbocharge” its most superficial symptoms? Sick.

Focus & Play – Yes, focusing on important work is, as Ford used to say, Job 1. But, that focus benefits when we maintain the durable and unapologetic sense of play that affords true creativity and fosters an emergence of context and connection that’s usually killed by stress. BUT.

Again, what conceivable “rule” could ever serve to immutably declare that “THIS goofing-off is critical for hippocampal plasticity” vs. “THAT goofing-off is just dumb, distracting bullshit?”

Impossible. Because drawing those kinds of distinctions is one of our most important day-to-day responsibilities. Decisions are hard, and there’s no app or alarm gadget that can change that.

Although, they certainly can help mask the depth of the underlying problem that made them seem so—what’s the parlance?—“indispensable”.

Think: Elmo Band-Aids for that unsightly pancreatic tumor.

Reducing Distraction through Care (Rather than braces, armatures, and puppet strings). Removing interruptions and external distractions that harm your work or life? Great. Counting on your distraction-removal tool to supplement your non-existent motivation to do work that will never get done anyway? Pathetic.

Frankly, this is a big reason I'm so galled when anyone touts their tool/product/service as being the poor, misunderstood artist’s new miracle medicine—rather than just admitting they've made a slightly different spoon.

Because, let’s be honest: although most of us have plenty of perfectly serviceable spoons, everybody knows collecting cutlery is way more fun than using it to swallow yucky medicine.

Using a System Vs. Becoming a System. Having a system or process for getting work done vs. making the iteration of that system or process a replacement for the work. This is just…wow…big.

But, maybe most importantly to me…

Embracing the Impossibles. Getting past these or any other intellectual koans by simply accepting life’s innumerable and unresolvable paradoxes, hypocrisies, and impossibilities as God-given gifts of creative constraint. Rather than, say, a mimeographed page of long division problems that must be solved for a whole number, n.

I just can’t ever get away from this one. For me, it’s what everything inevitably comes back to.

The very definition of our jobs is to solve the right problem at the right level for the right reason—based on a combination of the best info we have for now and a clear-eyed dedication to never pushing an unnecessary rock up an avoidable hill.

YET, we keep force-feeding the monster that tells us to fiddle and fart and blame the Big Cruel World whenever we face work that might threaten our fragile personal mythology.

“Sigh. I wish I could finally start writing My Novel….Ooooooh, if only I had a slightly nicer pen…and Zeus loved me more….”

All that stuff? That there’s a complex set of ideas to talk about for many complex reasons—not least of which being how many people either despise or (try to) deny the unavoidable impact of ol' number six.

But, here’s the thing: as much as saying so pisses anybody off, I think the topics we're NOT talking about whenever we disappear into Talmudic scholarship about “full-screen mode” or “minimalist desks” or whatever constitutes a “zen habit”—those shunned topics are precisely the things that I believe are most mind-blowingly critical to our real-world happiness as humans.

In fact, I believe that to such a degree that helping provide a voice for those unpopular topics that can be heard over the din is now (what passes for) my career. I really believe these deeper ideas are worth socializing on any number of levels and in many media. Even when it’s inconvenient and slightly disrespectful of someone’s business model.

So, that’s what I try to do. I talk about these things. Seldom by careful design. Often poorly. But, always because they each mean an awful lot to me.

[…]

But, no matter how I end up saying whatever the hell I say, I believe in saying it not simply to be liked or followed or revered as a “nice guy” who pushes out shit-tons of whatever to “help people.”

Because, believe me, friend, a great many of those apparently “nice guys” swarming around the web “helping people” these days are ass-fucking their audience for nickels and calling it a complimentary colonoscopy. And, while I absolutely think that in itself is empirically wrong, I also think it’s just as important to say that it’s wrong. Sometimes, True Things need to be said.

Which in this instance amounts to saying, a) selling people a prettier way to kinda almost but not really write is not, in the canonical sense, “nice”—but, far worse, b) leaving your starry-eyed customers with the nauseatingly misguided impression that their “distraction” originates from anyplace but their own busted-ass brain is really not “helping.” Not on any level. It is, literally, harmful.

“Helping” a junkie become more efficient at keeping his syringe loaded is hardly “nice.”

It’s the opposite of nice. And, it’s the opposite of helpful. These are my True Things.

And, to me, saying your True Things also means not watering down the message you care about in order to render it incapable of even conceivably hurting someone’s feelings—or of even conceivably losing you even one teeny-tiny slice of that precious “market share.”

Well, that’s the price, and I'm fine paying it—best money I've ever spent.

But, it also means trusting your audience by letting each of them decide to add water only as they choose to—by never corrupting the actual concentrate in a way that might make it less useful to the smartest or most eager 5% of people who'd like to try using it undiluted. Because, at that point, you're not only abandoning the coolest people you have the honor of serving—you risk becoming a charlatan.

And, that’s precisely what you become when you start to iteratively inbreed the kind of fucktard audience for whom daily buffets of weak swill and beige assurance are life’s most gratifying reward.

Sure. Those poor bastards may never end up using any of that watery information to do anything more ambitious than turbocharging their most regrettable symptoms. But, who’s the last person in the universe who’s going to grab them by the ears and tell them to get back to work? Exactly—that same “nice guy” whose livelihood now depends on keeping infantalized strangers addicted to his “help.”

Holy shit—no way could I ever live with that. It’s so wrong, it’s not even right. ESC, ESC, ESC!

[…]

Okay. So anyhow, there’s a really long-winded, overly generous, and extremely pompous way of trying to say I don’t know how to do what I do except how I do it. But, I do genuinely feel awful when innocent people feel they have been publicly humiliated or berated simply because I'm some dick who hates people.

Which has to be my favorite irony of all.

When I was a kid, I thought my Mom was “mean” not to let me play in traffic on busy Galbraith Road. Today, I'm not simply grateful that she had the strength and resolve to be so “mean”—I actually can’t imagine how sad it would be to not have people in your life who care enough about your long-term welfare to tell you to stop fucking around in traffic. To where you eventually might start even seeking 12x-daily safety hacks from some of the very same drivers whose recklessness may eventually kill you. Wow.

[…]

Admitting when life is complicated or things aren’t shiny and happy all the time strikes me as a wonderfully sane and adult way to conduct one’s life. That there are so many folks offended by even the existence of this anarchic idea is not a problem I can solve.

No more than I can wish useless email away or pray hard enough that it never rains on anyone’s leaky roof. All out of scope.

And, then, I jizzed on at length about how much I admire the recipient’s work. Which I do.

Good work doesn’t need a cookie

I may admire your work, too. Especially if you care a lot about that work and don’t overly sweat peoples' opinions of it. Most definitely including my own.

For these purposes, it doesn’t really matter whether we're friends and, honestly, it doesn’t even matter whether I love, use, or agree with everything you do, say, or make in a given day.

It doesn’t matter because good work doesn’t need me to love it. Like tornadoes and cold sores, good work happens with total disregard to whether I'm “into it.”

But, conversely, let’s stipulate that the points-of-view undergirding our opinions—again, including mine—will and should survive either agreement or lack of agreement with equivalently effortless ease. Because, like really good work, a really good point-of-view doesn’t require another person’s benediction.

Guess we'll have to disagree to agree

Now, to be only vaguely clearer here, I'm not posting this circuitous ego dump in the service of altering your opinion of either me, my friend, his work, or practically anything else for that matter.

But, I would love it if we could all be more okay with the fact that real life means that we do each have a different, sometimes incongruous, and often totally incompatible point-of-view. Yes. Even you have a point-of-view that someone despises. Ready to change it now? Jesus, I sure hope not.

Then, to be only slightly more clear, I'm also not advocating for that fakey brand of web-based kum ba ya that gets trotted out alternately as “tolerance” or “inclusion” or some styrofoam miniature of “civility.”

I'm absolutely not against all of those things when authentically practiced, but I'm also really skeptical of the well-branded peacemakers who are forever appointing themselves the Internet’s “Now-Now-Let’s-All-Pretend-We're-Just-Saying-the-Same-Useless-Thing-Here” den mothers.

Because we're not all saying the same things. Not at all.

And, it infantalizes some important conversations when we tacitly demand that any instance of honest disagreement be immediately horseshat into a photo opp where some thought leader gets to hoist everyone’s hands in the air like he’s fucking Jimmy Carter.

Nope. Not saying that.

Who will you really rely on?

What I AM saying is that alllllll this seemingly unrelated stuff is absolutely related—that the pattern of not relying on other people for anything you really care about is arguably the great-grandaddy of every useful productivity, creativity, or self-help pattern.

Where’s this matter? Pretty much everywhere you have any sort of stake:

Don’t rely on other people to remove your totally fake “distractions.”
Don’t rely on other people to pat your beret, re-tie your cravat, and make you a nice cocoa whenever that mean man on the internet points out that your “distractions” are totally fake. (Which they are)
Don’t rely on other people to tell you when or whether you have enough information.
Don’t rely on other people to define your job.
Don’t rely on other people to “design your lifestyle.”
Don’t rely on other people to decide when your opinions are acceptable.
Don’t rely on other people to tell you when you're allowed to be awesome.
Don’t rely on other people to make you care.
Don’t even rely on other people to tell you what you should or shouldn’t rely on.

Yes. I went there.

Because that’s the point. These hypocrisies, paradoxes, and ambiguities that people get so wound up about—that many of us are constantly (impotently) trying to resolve—cannot be resolved.

Because, yeah: all of these harrowingly unsolvable problems are immune to new notebooks and less-distracting applications and shinier systems and “nicer” self-“help” and pretty much anything else that is not, specifically, you walking straight into the angriest and least convenient shitstorm you can find and getting your ass kicked until the storm gets bored with kicking it.

Then, you find an even angrier storm. Then, another. And, so on.

“Get the fuck off of my obstacle, Private Pyle!”

Doing that annoying hard stuff is how you grow, get better, and learn what real help looks like. Even if that’s not the answer you wanted to hear. You get better by getting your ass out of your RSS reader and fucking making things until they suck less. Not by buying apps.

You don’t whine about distractions, or derail yourself over needing a nicer pencil sharpener, or aggravate your chronic creative diabetes by starting another desperate waddle to the self-help buffet. No. You work.

And, for what it’s worth, just like you can’t get to the moon by eating cheese, you'll also never leave boot camp with your original scrote intact by telling your drill sergeant to try using more honey than vinegar.

No. That sergeant’s job is to make you miserable. It’s his job to break down your callow conceits about what’s supposed to be easy and fair. It’s his job to emotionally pummel you into giving up and becoming a Marine.

You? You're not there to give the sergeant notes; you're there to sleep two hours a night, then not mind getting beaten for 20 hours until a decent Marine starts to fall out.

Who knows? He may even surprise you by introducing a surprisingly effective “distraction-free learning environment.”

“Tee ell dee ahr, Professor Brainiac.”

Like most humans, I like things I can understand. Like most readers, I love specificity. Like most thinkers, I love clarity. Like most students, I love relevance and practicality. And, like most busy people, believe it or not, I actually do really like it when someone gets straight to the point.

But, here’s the problem. If my 2-year-old daughter asks me about time travel, and I blithely announce, “E=mc²”, I will have said something that is entirely specific, clear, relevant, practical, and/or straight-to-the-point. For somebody.

But, not so much for my daughter. And, to be honest, not even to any useful degree for me.

She'd probably either laugh derisively at me (which she’s great at), or she'd pause and ask, “Whuh dat?” (which she’s even better at).

Thing is, her understanding that jumble of characters less than me—and my understanding it WAY less than Professor Al—has zero impact on the profundity, truth, beauty, or impact of the man’s theory.

Sure. You could quite accurately fault me for being a smartass and a poseur, and you could even berate my toddler for her unaccountably shallow understanding of Modern Physics. But, in any case, you can’t really blame either Albert or his theory.

You're turbocharging nothing

Specifically, Albert can’t begin to tell us what he really knows if we don’t understand math.

So, let’s say this theory you've been hearing about really interests you. And, let’s also pretend, just for the sake of the analogy, that you haven’t completed Calculus III (212) or Quantum Mechanics (403) or even something as elementary as, say, Advanced Astrophysics II (537). I know you have. Obviously. But, let’s pretend. Where do you start?

Well, you could read some tips about learning math. You could find a list of 500 indispensable resources for indispensable math resources. You could buy a new “distraction-free math environment.” Heck, there’s actually nothing to stop you from just declaring yourself a “math expert.” Congratulations, Professor.

Thing is: you still don’t know math.

Which means you still can’t really understand the theory—no more than a pathetic Liberal Arts refugee like me or a dullard Physics ignoramus like my kid can really grok relativity.

Difference is, you will have blown a lot of time hoping that actual expertise follows non-existent effort—while my daughter and I get to remain total novices without charge. Only, we don’t get all mad at the theory as a result; a staggering number of fake math experts do.

I mean, be honest—after all that recreational non-work and make-believe dedication almost trying to kinda learn math sorta—you might actually get frustrated at how brazenly Al defies your fondness for shortcuts by continuing to rely on so many terms and proofs and blah-blah-blah that you still just don’t understand. So annoying.

You may simply decide that Albert Einstein’s a huge dick for never saying things that can be completely understood solely by scanning a headline.

EPIC EINSTEIN FAIL, amirite?

You never really know what you didn’t know until you know it

But, Al just told the truth.

Problem is, Al’s truth not only requires fancy things in order to be truly understood—the more of those fancy things you take away from his truth, the less true it gets. And, by the time it’s been diluted to the point where you're comfortable that you understand it? You'd be understanding the wrong thing. Even I can understand that.

But, not one bit of any of this is Al’s fault. Al doesn’t get to control who uses, abuses, gets, or doesn’t get what he said or why it matters. Especially since he’s been dead for over fifty years.

All I know is, regardless of who has ears to hear it on a given day, it would be to Al’s credit never to mangle something important in order to get it into terms everybody’s ready to handle without actually trying.

And God bless him for never agreeing that your “distractions” to learning math are his problem.

So, yeah, if you only need to hand in a crappy 5-page paper, you could certainly Cliff’s Notes your way through Borges, Eliot, or Joyce in an afternoon, and feel like you haven’t missed a thing. Trouble is, if you did care even a little, it’s impossible to even say how much you're missing since you can’t be bothered to soldier through the source text. The text itself is the entire point.

Even the wonderfully cogent and readable layman’s explanations Einstein himself provided don’t really get to the nut, the application, and the implications of his real theory.

That all takes real math.

That “single datum of experience” matters

Sometimes, complex or difficult things stop being true when you try to make them too simple. Sometimes, you have to actually get laid to understand why people think sex is such a thing. Sometimes, you need to learn some Greek if you really want to understand The Gospel of John. And, yeah, sometimes, you're going to have to just work unbelievably hard at whatever you claim to care about before anyone can begin to help you get any better—or less “distracted”—at it.

The part I really know is what doesn’t work. Reading Penthouse Forum won’t help you CLEP out of Vaginal Intercourse 101. Watching a Rankin-Bass cartoon about the Easter Bunny will teach you very little about the intricacies of transubstantiation. And, if you can’t be troubled to care so much about your work that you reflexively force distractions away, dicking around with yet another writing application will merely aggravate the problem. Ironic, huh?

These quantum mechanics of personal productivity are rife with such frustrating “paradoxes.”

These are True Things.

Achieving expertise and doing creative work is all horribly complicated and difficult and paradoxical and frustrating and recursive and James Joyce-y—and any guide, blog, binary, guru, or “nice guy” that tries to suggest otherwise is probably giving you a complimentary colonoscopy. Do the math.

Want a new syllabus? Sure:

Run straight into your shitstorm, my friends. Reject the impulse to think about work, rather than finishing it. And, open your heart to the remote possibility that any mythology of personal failure that involves messiahs periodically arriving to make everything “easy” for you might not really be helping your work or your mental health or your long-standing addiction to using tools solely to ship new excuses.

Learn your real math, and any slide rule will suffice. Try, make, and do until you quit noticing the tools, and if you still think you need new tools, go try, make, and do more.

If you can pull off this deceptively simple and millennia-old pattern, you'll eventually find that—god by dying god—any partial truth that’s supported your treasured excuses for not working will be replaced by a no-faith-required knowledge that you're really, actually, finally getting better at something you care about.

Which is just sublimely un-distracting.

Dedication

This article is dedicated to my friend, Greg Knauss. No, he’s not the app guy–he’s just a good man who does good work, who accidentally/unintentionally helped me write this rant. He also happens to be a fella who could teach anyone a thing or two about writing with distractions. Thanks, Greg.

”“Distraction,” Simplicity, and Running Toward Shitstorms” was written by Merlin Mann for 43Folders.com and was originally posted on October 05, 2010. Except as noted, it's ©2010 Merlin Mann and licensed for reuse under CC BY-NC-ND 3.0. "Why a footer?"

Catching Up: 3 Interviews from a Cooling Crucible

Merlin — Thu, 18 Mar 2010 02:05:20 -0400

After almost a year of hand-wringing, fretting, and occasionally even writing the odd string of English words, I've finally started turning into the home stretch with the first draft of my Inbox Zero book.

If it hasn't been obvious, or you couldn't just guess, this book project's been a big rock for me. Given the effort it's taken (read: most every hour I'm not sleeping, working, or pushing my daughter in a swing), it's also the primary reason why updates to 43 Folders have been so scarce over the last few months. The spirit was willing, but the brain--insanely sick of thinking about these very topics--was weak.

Yes, as it turns out, writing a book does require an extraordinary expenditure of both attention and time. And, in my own case, I'll confess that this often meant working even more than four hours a week. But, who knows? Maybe that's just a consequence of my slow typing and abject lack of lifetrepreneurship.

Thing is, this has also been a fantastic and exhilarating time for me. Despite the pressure, the stress, and the alternating tickity-tock of both clock and keyboard, in the end, performing the architecture and masonry required to build such a large project demanded that I gather a lot of seemingly unrelated material, choose the most promising ingredients, and then heat it all up in a deadline-fueled crucible. Sure, it's been mostly good pressure (who the hell complains about having a book deal?), but it's still been real pressure.

Fortunately, with much relief and abundant gratitude, I can say that I'm really satisfied with the emerging artifact. And, of course, I really hope you guys feel the same way when the book comes out. Probably some time in the fall of 2049.

Coming Up for Air

I mention all this here because, if you follow any of the stuff I do and say elsewhere, you'll have noticed a recent uptick in the number of appearances I've been making around the web. That's the happy confluence of my (finally) coming up for air, combined with my determination to (finally) make good on endless months of snoozed and punted and re-re-re-scheduled interview requests from some very cool people, publications, and podcasts. (Thanks to everyone who's asked and, if I missed you, please ask again.)

So, today, I beg your indulgence to share three recent interviews with me that I like quite a lot.

While all three are profiles of me and what I've been doing and thinking about as I work on this infernal book business, they also each bear directly on the topics that I know mean a lot to you guys, too. Especially, if you're one of the band of brothers who've stuck with me and courageously kept this XML-enabled null space in your feed reader since my much-discussed shift away from productivity pr0n.

Thus, by way of inarguably self-involved catch-up--and as an informal reintroduction to how I truly believe you can "find the time and attention to do your best creative work"--here's three recent interviews:

on the values of voice, openness, and making mindful creative work;
on a very detailed exegesis of my tactical workflow;
on the benefits of diving into the projects that terrify you

I really hope you'll like them.

The Pipeline, ep. 7; with Dan Benjamin

The Pipeline 7: Merlin Mann | 5 by 5

Download MP3 of "The Pipeline, ep. 7" | Huffduff This

My longtime hero, Hivelogic's Dan Benjamin, recently invited me onto 5 by 5's flagship podcast, "The Pipeline." While it was intimidating to know I'd be standing alongside such august (and superior) talent as Zeldman, Haughey, Coudal, and Inman, I was honored to be asked, and I'm extremely happy with the results.

We cover a lot of territory in less than 40 minutes, but we basically hit on almost every major topic that means a lot to me right now, including, the power of voice, the challenges of knowledge work, the perils of the Lizard Brain, the primacy of action, the seeming unavoidability of Buddhism, and the hidden dangers of following herds, chasing dumb traffic, and aping the "success" of others.

Thanks much for this opportunity, Dan. You're a real pro.

Mac Power Users, ep. 23; with David Sparks and Katie Floyd

Mac Power Users» Blog Archive » MPU 023: Workflows with Merlin Mann

Download MP3 of "Mac Power Users, ep. 23" | Huffduff This

Averse as I am to promoting productivity pr0n for its own sake, this tour de force podcast should be a lot of fun to anyone who's interested in Mac and iPhone workflows.

Because, believe it or not, I am besieged with daily requests for details on how I actually work. And, if you have even the vaguest passing interest in how I currently sew together OmniFocus, Notational Velocity, TextExpander, Pastebot, Pinboard, Instapaper, Simplenote, Scrivener, MultiMarkdown, Quicksilver, and more, more, more, prepare for your head to explode multiple times. There's a lot here, so don't miss Katie's exhaustive show notes for a full run-down.

But, like I said, please do take all this in doses. This is something I've evolved over years, so you certainly don't need to stop what you're doing to try to implement all of this.

Still, I have to say, this podcast lays out an empirically nerdtastic workflow which even the dorkiest Mac fanboy will find something new and awesome in. And, yes, there's loads of non-tool-fetish advice on how to do the actual work. I promise.

Thanks so much to David and Katie for putting up with 90 minutes of me talking very quickly about the most embarrassing details of my encompassing Mac dorkery.

MaxFunCon Podcast, ep. 12; "Keep Moving"; with Jesse Thorn

iTunes: MaxFunCon Podcast Episode 12, Merlin Mann

Download MP3 of "MaxFunCon Podcast, ep. 12" | Huffduff This

I'm an unapologetic fan of everything Jesse Thorn does, including The Sound of Young America, Jordan Jesse GO!, and, of course, his annual conference celebrating all things awesome, MaxFunCon. In fact, you may remember the talk on "Getting Started" that I presented at MFC last year.

In this admittedly rambling (but hopefully charming) interview, Jesse and I talk about what makes MaxFunCon so special, as well as how a person who's as--to use Jesse's parlance--"ADD-addled" as I am can actually put a 50,000-word book together. Along the way I profess my love for Maria Bamford, Jonathan Coulton, and Chris Hardwick, as well as extol the virtues of drinking vodka from a glass skull with John Hodgman.

Silliness aside, we talk frankly about the pants-be-crapping fear of performing (and the more profound terror of sucking at performing) that dogs anyone who's ever decided to get up in front of a bunch of strangers and try to be entertaining. It's hard. So hard. Which is kind of why I love it.

Alas, MaxFunCon 2010 is now way sold out, but you can claim your spot on the waiting list by writing to maxfuncon at gmail. It is, as I've repeatedly said, easily the best conference I've ever attended. Ever. Even more than DB/Expo '97.

Thanks for your patience with this one, and sorry in advance if this seems all me-me-me.

But, if anything, 43 Folders is a site that started and still exists for me to share what has and hasn't worked for me along the road to trying to make great stuff.

I hope all three of these interviews will be of interest to anyone who walks that same road, stumbles onto those same shoulders, and shares my cardinal interest in always dusting yourself off, stepping back on the path, and plodding toward whatever comes next.

Onward, friends.

”Catching Up: 3 Interviews from a Cooling Crucible” was written by Merlin Mann for 43Folders.com and was originally posted on March 18, 2010. Except as noted, it's ©2010 Merlin Mann and licensed for reuse under CC BY-NC-ND 3.0. "Why a footer?"

First, care.

Merlin — Fri, 05 Feb 2010 15:51:40 -0500

Asked and answered by the wonderful Frank Chimero:

Anonymous asked: 'How do you maintain focus (on work, dreams, goals, life)?'

You do one thing at a time.

You might be amazed how many times--and over how many years--a given person can ask this same simple question, hear that same simple response, and still find themselves casting about for the great and arcane "secret" to achieving real focus.

But, this is pretty much it. Mostly.

Although, I must add one important "Step Zero," borne of my own tedious experience.

Before you sweat the logistics of focus: first, care. Care intensely.

Specifically, if you discover, in frustration, that you're pathologically incapable of doing one thing at a time, consider the possibility that you've been unknowingly trying to "focus" on two, twenty, or twenty thousand disparate things that you don't really care that much about. Just consider it.

Because, in the absence of caring, you'll never focus on anything more than your lack of focus. Think about it.

Think about those times when you really disappeared into challenging work. You had to tear yourself away, right?

Because, during those happy times you were fortunate enough to find yourself engaged with something that you cared intensely about, you probably started asking a really different sort of question.

A more transitive, muscular question that shows you own the attention that others may see as a bowl full of complimentary Jolly Ranchers, free for the grabbing.

That's when you ask,

How many things do I need to shed, cancel, defer, drop, shank, or shit-can with extreme prejudice in order to singlemindedly focus on this one thing that I love?

In my experience (yes, as I said, hard-won experience), obsessing over the slipperiness of focus, bemoaning the volume of those devil "distractions," and constantly reassessing which shiny new "system" might make your life suddenly seem more sensible--these are all terrifically useful warning flares that you may be suffering from a deeper, more fundamental problem.

Where's the care?

For as long as you know in your heart that what you're making or doing matters, and, consequently, for as long as you accept and embrace the immutable laws of scarcity, your options for maintaining focus will, like Frank's perfect answer, remain stunningly obvious.

You "focus" on the one thing you care about, as you "unfocus" on everything else. If not for every minute of your life, at least for the time you set aside to pursue the thing that matters.

If that sounds fancy and oversimplified, then you "care" about too many things. Period.

My suggestion? Own your distractions, resist fiddly half-measures, and never for a minute allow yourself to believe that productivity systems, space pens, or a writing app that plays new age music while you stare at a blank page in full-screen mode can ever teach you anything about how to care.

That's all on you.

So, first, care. Then, as you'll happily and unavoidably discover, all that "focus" business has a peculiar way of taking care of itself.

”First, care.” was written by Merlin Mann for 43Folders.com and was originally posted on February 05, 2010. Except as noted, it's ©2010 Merlin Mann and licensed for reuse under CC BY-NC-ND 3.0. "Why a footer?"

Mud Rooms, Red Letters, and Real Priorities

Merlin — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 07:28:18 -0400

Thanks to my funny, literary pal, Jason B. Jones, today, I'm visiting lovely, warm Connecticut to do some talks and whatnot at CCSU. I mention it because I'd started typing this little post mid-way through the long eastbound flight that delivered me here from three fun (but very long) days doing a comedy thing with You Look Nice Today and Jordan, Jesse, Go! over on that other, top-left, edge of our nation.

So, I was tired. Really tired. The kind of tired where your wallet hurts your butt, and coffee tastes weird, and you try super-hard to sleep, but -- well -- you're just too tired to sleep. And, I was fine with all that. Who can complain about being sleepy from hanging out with Adam and Scott? Exactly.

Except. The lady in the seat directly behind me was having grave problems with her "mud room." Big mud room problems. I know this because she talked about it for several hours in excruciating detail.

I'll spare you the nuts and bolts of the numerous and surprising ways that the room in which wealthy persons remove their shoes might contribute to causing a carefully-coiffed, 60-year-old woman to come unglued over "priorities." Suffice to say, fixing this problem was a "high priority" for her. So, she said, repeatedly, as I shifted my wallet, let my coffee go cold, and balled the little blue pillow under my neck.

"Priority! Mud room!" I audibly mumbled, just loud enough to be heard exactly one row back.

Priority. Man, that's a tough word. Because, depending on who you talk to, most people say "prioritizing" is either a giant problem, an underused skill, or a "Get out of Jail Free" card.

Me? I think priorities are simple to understand precisely because their influence is so staggeringly clear and unavoidable to behold, then act upon. Ready for this one?

A priority is observed, not manufactured or assigned. Otherwise, it's necessarily not a priority.

Got that? You can't "prioritize" a list of 20 tasks any more than you can "uniqueify" 20 objects by "uniqueness," or "pregnantitze" 20 women by "pregnantness." Each of those words means something.

An item is either unique or it is not. A woman is either pregnant or she is not. An item is either the priority or it is not. One-bit. Mutually exclusive. One ring to rule them all.

Why all the fussiness, Mr. Fussy?

When most people say, "prioritize," I think they really mean to say, "force-rank" -- to assign n items one and only one position between "1" and "n." Right? So, yes, there's one "#1" and one "#7," et cetera. But that's not "priority," and that's why you probably have at least one task on your version of a to-do list that has been "HIGH PRIORITY!!!" for more than a month.

Kind of unique. Sort of pregnant. "High" priority.

This is why I say priorities can only be observed. In my book, a priority is not simply a good idea; it's a condition of reality that, when observed, causes you to reject every other thing in the universe -- real, imagined, or prospective -- in order to ensure that things related to the priority stay alive.

Even though their influence informs every decision we make on the most tactical level, thinking about priorities happens at a strategic, "why am I here?" level. Right? Maybe? Disagree? Pretty sure you can make priorities like biscuits or shuffle them around like Monopoly pieces?

Got news for you, Jack: if it moves, it's not a priority. It's just a thing you haven't done yet.

Making something a BIG RED TOP TOP BIG HIGHEST #1 PRIORITY changes nothing but text styling. If it were really important, it'd already be done. Period. Think about it.

Example. When my daughter falls down and screams, I don't ask her to wait while I grab a list to determine which of seven notional levels of "priority" I should assign to her need for instantaneous care and affection. Everything stops, and she gets taken care of. Conversely -- and this is really the important part -- everything else in the universe can wait.

Related example. You ever had a loved one -- especially a very young relative -- pass away unexpectedly? Brutal. What did you do when you found out? Did you "re-prioritize" your day and move a few things around? Or did you drop everything and join his or her loved ones in taking care of what needed to be taken care of? You just saw what needed to be done and likely had no compunction about telling everybody at work they'd either have to wait or move on without you.

And, let's be clear: this is not all about "urgency." Yes, an injured child and a grieving family need help now in a way that an M&A discussion or a CPR class may not. But, again. It's not a question of order or shuffling. It's a question of brutally honest decision-making and constantly saying, "No, I have another thing to take care of."

Day One Buddhism.

Because, once you see what's really there -- once you know about an idea or a thing or a person or whatever that you'd reject 10,000 other things to protect and nurture -- you've found your priority. And, consequently, you've discovered a bunch of other things that aren't allowed to be priorities any more. Even in spirit.

Because, if you aren't rejecting or dumping things every single day, you don't know your priority. You're making things up. If you think you have 35 priorities, then yes: you also think you have 35 arms. Is it any wonder you're feeling awkward and unsure?

Maybe a mud room is a priority. I think more likely it was this lady's emotional obsession. If I were the sort of person who coached people on these things, I'd ask her what piece of information she needed to get moving on the "mud room" project, then get it, do it, and move on. That said, dozens of thousands of feet in the air seems like a crummy place to realize a mud room is your "priority," but I'm not here to judge. Much.

What I will tell you is that these ideas about scarcity and mutual exclusivity fly in the face of most "productivity" and "effectiveness" nonsense, and frankly, they make most people bristle. Big time. When I tell someone who's making 10 times the salary I'll ever make that it's literally impossible to have seven priorities, they look at me like I'm the biggest, dumbest hippie in the world. Sheesh, right?

For the Cult of Priority folks, two things:

First, ask yourself why any "high priority" item has remained unresolved in your life for more than 60 seconds. Why isn't it done completely? Have you ever "re-assigned" "priority" to some task? Really? Because that sounds more like procrastination than management, let alone "effective" action and decisive execution. Sounds more to me like getting paid $10,000,000 a year to re-arrange your spice rack -- then wondering why your company, marriage, and back porch are all crumbling under your "prioritization." Sounds like maybe you're just feeling crummy about not understanding your job and your life. Once you know a tree is falling on you, you don't take a meeting to drill down on strategies viz. arboreal exit strategies. You just run.

Also, number two -- and this is a biggie -- I'm staggered whenever a Director-level or higher executive claims they have 3, 5, 7, or 27 "priorities." Because, at that level, your entire career is defined by the unbelievably great ideas that you reject. Painfully giant, wonderful, terrific opportunities that you simply don't have the capacity to address without screwing up the real priority.

No, no, no, no, sorry, later, nope, forget it, later, no, no, no.

Because only babies and crazy people get to pretend that reality actually changes when you close your eyes and hum. And, reality is the thing that priorities hang on. If you think you can change it by taxonomies and meetings, you still have only two arms, only now you're also screwed.

So, if a mud room, or a crying toddler, or a CPR class, or even a short note from an old friend turns up on your radar screen today, don't ask yourself whether it's a "priority." Ask yourself what you must not do in order to make sure it gets taken care of.

Once you see and accept real priorities, the rest just turns on the mechanics of fearless completion.

”Mud Rooms, Red Letters, and Real Priorities” was written by Merlin Mann for 43Folders.com and was originally posted on April 28, 2009. Except as noted, it's ©2010 Merlin Mann and licensed for reuse under CC BY-NC-ND 3.0. "Why a footer?"

Free as in "Me"

Merlin — Fri, 10 Apr 2009 09:29:33 -0400

This unbelievably long article is related to (but not necessarily about) a discussion that I and several other people have been participating in online over the past few days. It's about (and not about) the increasingly popular practice of re-publishing someone's online work on another site without the attribution, formatting, and linking that many bloggers regard as standard, ethical, and fair.

It's admittedly a polemic (which is what people who think they're clever call, "a rambling rant"), but what may seem to many to be a childish and ungrateful pout about trivial status and self-esteem beefs turns out to be a kitchen table issue for me. Because, how people decide to reuse and attribute my work directly affects my career, my livelihood, and my ability to thrive based mostly on giving things away for free. I know. Paradoxical, right? Believe me, I know.

Anyhow. To get up to speed, please read these in order: Matt said something, Josh said something, I said something, Andy wrote this awesome post, Jason responded, then, Anil responded. For extra credit, and to get you in the mood, go back and re-listen to Gruber's and my talk from this year's SxSW.

I will wait here. Please read them all. This will take a while, and you should only continue if you're okay with that. As ever, it's kind of the whole point.

[Time passes, and then:]

Privileges, Fiat, and the Consequence of Guessing Wrong

Weird thing you eventually realize is the extent to which we all rely upon a certain amount of guessing about other people's motivations. Call it a heuristic or a shortcut or whatever, but in order to make scalable sense of a very strange world, we each have to apply existential algorithms and SWAGs to help us turn a lot of unrelated crap into a sensible story that we can live with.

But. It is important to remember that it is just a story. And the truth behind our assumptions is often not only different than we thought or hoped, but can even be really difficult to understand, summarize, or fit back into our original story.

Eventually, you also learn that it's sketchy to blame the truth instead of a broken story.

Which is why I said what I said about how All Things D's Voices section obtains and presents the work of writers who do not actually write for them. It's why I'm uncomfortable letting other people decide, by fiat, that their insight into my own motivations gives them permission to reuse my work however (and, importantly, wherever) they please while unilaterally setting the licensing and compensation to terms they've decided are appropriate.

In the case here, for Matt and Josh, that compensation was "a link" and -- what? -- I guess the opportunity to pretend that you write for a giant for-profit corporation. And because, as the story goes, every blogger writes primarily (or even exclusively) in order to generate page views that bolster his site's advertising revenue, they/we/I should all be grateful for the largesse of our True Fourth Estate. Even if a giant for-profit corporation's re-use of that work actually undermines the real motivations, it would be uncivil, ungrateful, and untoward for us to not thank them for helping us out with our little projects. Right?

Well. In my own case, anyone who guessed that motivation has guessed amazingly wrong. And, it's not the kind of wrong without consequences. So, before I take up the rest of your morning, I'll try to say this well and mostly once:

Nobody but me is allowed to decide why I make things. And -- if and when I choose to give away the things that I make -- nobody but me is allowed to define how or where I'll do it. I am independent.

But, let's start at the beginning. With a series of computer networks that were designed to help scientists keep talking after a nuclear holocaust. The network, of course, is the internet, and its oldest and best-known profession is advertising.1

Days We Were and Weren't Working for Mad Men

As giant, popular websites have begun to struggle with a years-old decision to hang every nickel of their fortunes on CPM ads (and, consequently, on constantly increasing the volume of page views that make those ads theoretically profitable), readers, fans, and independent makers of content have been forced to watch, fidget, and, wince at their increasingly awkward tarantellas.

Because, as my friend, John Gruber, and I have grown fond of saying, page views and CPM ads can become a corrupting influence on whatever thing you really want to do -- on the stories you hope to tell, and, cardinally, on the long-term success of reaching the niche audience who totally gets whatever unbelievably odd thing you're uniquely capable of producing. Yes. Even if that thing involves not "just being a blogger",2 maybe a few of us have the temerity to eventually crave something alongside or way beyond toiling in this noble, grinding, and often ghettoized occupation.

But. If your motivation is solely to be a blogger with a site that runs ads, it will necessarily mean thinking a lot about how you're going to generate page views. Because without ads, most blogs would be lucky to generate bus fare.

When your sole metric is the number of times that pages on your site are loaded (and, that those delicious and life-sustaining ads are served along with them), it becomes unbelievably tempting to start doing things that you know are total bullshit. God knows I've done it. Probably dozens of times. Few of us haven't followed that siren's song in one way or another, but hopefully you evolve. Sometimes, you don't.

The Lumpen Metrics of Page View Addiction

And, that is where things start turning to shit.

You "page" your articles to the point of hostile unreadability. You disguise or bury links to source articles in a way that makes your article seem a little more canonical than the real thing. You encourage unmoderated comment threads in which cheering an uncivil race to the bottom of the Port-O-Let means triple page views. You may even compel your indentured "writers" to hew to a stifling regimen of post volume, pointless stock art inclusion, and even compulsory word count -- simply because the cargo cult of statistics whispers which coconuts make the best headphones. You conspire to trick, deceive, annoy, and badger your audience up to precisely that moment when they say, "Screw it," and just never come back.

You ruin the fun for surprisingly little money and eventually discover, to your surprise, that whatever shred of credibility you originally brought to your enterprise has disintegrated into a light dusting on some backfill banners.

Also, "links." Wow. Links used to really mean something different. When I first started enjoying blogs (maybe 11 years ago), links represented a semantic, curated map of the places where one writer's attention tended to go.

Today, links have been converted into a wildly inflated currency -- farthings that get hoarded and begged, then pushed around, re-counted, and stacked in ways that make you seem a lot less Charles Dickens than Ebenezer Scrooge.

Then, Presently, the Dark Night of the Soul

When page views run your life, you eventually start fibbing about what you really care about. You start pandering to an audience whose depressing lust for new pellets keeps them pecking at a feeder bar for every waking hour. And, yeah, these pigeons eventually become the sole leverage behind your going concern; lose the pigeons and there's no point pushing pellets, right? Why else would you bother tending the coop?

And, finally, as this weird darkness metastasizes, you may unintentionally abandon those finicky but influential creators of culture and content upon whose work and authority your whole rag and bone racket ultimately depends. Because, let's be honest: people who make things tend to recognize bullshit the second it plops into the domain where they have expertise. So, a smart blogger knows horeseshit page games like a veteran carpenter can tell you which chair's made out of masking tape and balsa scraps. ("Dude! No! Don't sit there!")

Thing is: the silence or indifference of the readers and fans you lose will never register in SiteMeter, or Mint, or Google Analytics. There's no overt trace to warn you when things have gone awry. So, you may never know when someone awesome has decided you're a charlatan.

Because, friends, when page views run your life, you get dumb. Fast. And you start making terrible decisions.

The Ingratitude. The Temerity.

So, where does some small-potatoes nobody like me (or, in this instance, my pal, Matt Haughey and Delicious.com founder, Joshua Schachter) get off? Some giant for-profit publication (whose most evergreen topic, like my own, seems to be "How Everyone on the Internet Keeps Doing It Wrong") shows the largesse to republish some digital peasant's scribblings in their esteemed forum -- and they complain? The very idea. Guys, this is a GIANT compliment, right? Because it "drives traffic!"

Hey, traffic. Right. I guess I'll need that for all those page views, right? Well. Only kinda.

See, links and traffic are great. Seriously. Especially when you're getting started and when they come from a site run by people you respect and admire as much as I admire Walt Mossberg and Kara Swisher (this beef aside, those two are the real deal). Links and traffic are, as I said, the coin of the realm in some sense. They build awareness about what a person does, and they expose a person's work to a large enough audience that one even hopes a few "ideal readers" might end up landing somewhere in the mix.

But, what if you're trying to do something really different? What if the page views only really matter to you when they're happening in front of a face you admire? What if your game is not primarily ads? What if -- as I said in that email to Andy -- what if you're selling yourself? Or, even better put, what if you're not really selling anything but the idea that you do interesting things? What if everyone's best guesses about your motivation are wrong, cynical, and lead to decisions that actually harm rather than compliment? What if.

So, Who Died and Made You So Fancy, Mr. Fancy?

Anyone with the patience to read or hear anything I've had to say over the last year knows that saying what I have to say in the way I want to say it is orders of magnitude more important to me than driving a lot of pointless page views from people I never cared about reaching anyway. No offense, internet, but right now, I need links like Chasen's needs chili.3

And, to clarify why I include myself in this particular discussion, even though ATD did not boost my own articles for their site, this kind of unilateral and dodgy "repurposing" of my work has happened to me many times. Even setting aside the truly black hat scraping that happens dozens of times a day, I've received this kind of left-handed compliment numerous times over the past 4 years.

The example that, for a variety of reasons, sticks out most prominently in my mind happened in May of 2007, when I awoke one morning to discover that the much-more-giant-and-financially-lucrative site, Lifehacker, had suddenly started republishing my entire feed on their ad-crazy home page without even bothering to inform me, let alone ask if I was cool with it. Hey. Wow. Just look at all that honor. Lucky me.

I immediately complained about the nonsense to now-emeritus Lifehacker editor (and long-standing Top 10 human) Gina Trapani, and she was kind enough to remove me from the mix with all haste (thanks, Gina).

But, should I have had to ask? As I said in an email to Gina at the time:

I wonder how [Lifehacker's hilariously Dickensian publisher, Nick Denton] would feel if a site like Engadget started automatically reposting every article from Gizmodo w/o permission or compensation -- but wrapped it in Engadget's ads. Maybe he'd love it. Who knows?

Personally, I think it's always nice to be asked about this kind of thing first.

Was it about "the money?" Was it because I think Nick consistently sets, funds, and promotes many of the most execrable examples in the history of publishing? "Not really," and "kinda," respectively.

This was about taking something I did and putting it someplace that wasn't mine, and then acting like we'd both agreed it was a good deal. Like snatching the card off the gift-wrapped toaster I brought, scribbling your name above mine on the card, then handing the whole thing to the bride with a kiss. "Yay! Presents! Thanks, Nick!"

Money is only an issue inasmuch as the prospect of making it without effort or agency governs someone's decision to stick their dick in my mashed potatoes and call it a birthday cake.

There's Also No "I" in "We." Not Until I Say So.

Here's something like my point: there's exactly one person on this marble who gets to choose what I give away, to whom I give it away, and under what conditions I give it away. It's not folks who have decided via tarot or Ouija why I do anything that I do. And it's damned sure not the esteemed employees of Rupert Murdoch or Nick Denton. It's me, gang. Merlin is Merlin's sole free-stuff decider. Full stop. Punto.

If it matters (and it certainly may not), my goal and motivation is to wake up early every day, drink coffee, play with my daughter, kiss my beautiful wife, and then spend double-digit hours trying to create things that will make people happy, productive, entertained, inspired, and even a little more awesome -- and, on those rarest and most joyful of days, maybe I'll even make something that combines all of those qualities.

But, all these ideas start and end with me. All the execution goes through me. If it sucks, it's because of me. But it always has my name and my dorky icon on it, so you know where to either find more or simply try to steer clear.

And, whether people love, despise, or feel indifferent about things I've made, it all comes down to me and my weird independent occupation. This is not simply a job; it's an anxious daily adventure in fucking reinventing myself. While, I'll note, paying my own way to keep every dinghy in this little flotilla afloat and barnacle-free. And while it's undeniably the richest of first-world problems, funding your own independence is the most insanely costly and addictive project you'll ever love.

Okay, Shakespeare: WHY Do I Care?

What makes all this melodrama so interesting today, is that we are all in the midst of an unprecedented and unavoidable global re-thinking of what a lot of things really "mean." Economy. Home. Family. Security. Entertainment. Identity. You name it. There are a shit-ton of grenades still rolling around on the floor right now, and I'm one of those crazy fringe types who publicly, ardently hopes that at least one of them blows out a few load-bearing walls inside industries that are in overdue need of a bottom-up redesign. No matter what.

And, even in the face of change that will be gut-wrenching for literally everyone, I pray that for each person whose occupation relied on a 100- to 900-year-old business model, maybe one or two might get to figure out something they can make and vend in a way that does not require the intermediation of the people who are currently steaming their unsinkable vessels into some surprisingly pointy and resolute chunks of ice.

Again: There are Many Like It, But This One is Mine

This is just my opinion and I speak for no one but myself. But, when somebody moves my work onto their shelf without asking me like an adult, one of the last things on my mind is stealing or piracy. Seriously. I know. Crazy.

Steal my stuff? Sure. Go nuts. Grab it. Read it. "Pirate it." Put it on a Kindle. Put it in a torrent. Make it into LaTeX (whatever that is). But, man. Don't sell it without asking me. Don't be a dick about pretending I made it for your project. And, don't try to shortchange me on copper pipe, then call it a special discount. None of that's your call, chief.

I can make words and videos and pretty much anything to replace or augment the ones people consume; but I absolutely can't do it if you rub my name and address off of the label. And, here's the funny part: when people like me quit making stuff, guess what? Your shovelblog fodder and pigeon pellets start drying up. You'd have nothing left to churn. So, it actually benefits all of us to take this stuff seriously.

The Niche Shall Set You "Free"

And, finally, as far as motivations go? If you're married to page views, never assume that I am. If you're angling for 1,000,000 Twitter followers whom you pretend to read, never assume that I am. And, if your project is based on generating compulsory year-over-year growth vis-a-vis market domination and fiduciary responsibility, never assume that I am.

The niche is the thing, friends. It's the future, and it's here. Things like this little rhubarb are just the earliest Braxton Hicks contractions of a change that will be getting way, way weirder than most people think.

But, if we each have the arrogance to demand the credit that we're due, an astonishing number of opportunities begin to unfold. We learn who really made what we love; not just who put it someplace where lots of people can see it. We discover whom we admire and we make decisions about who to collaborate with.

And, if we do the right thing, we can each merge into an insane new caravan of makers who look out for each other, focus on doing great work, and who try to promote things because it made a connection with us. Not because it benefits someone who pays us by the compliment.

But, the anecdote that's on my mind today comes straight out of the warm and countless Wednesday night potlucks my family attended in the Fellowship Hall at White Oak Christian Church on Blue Rock Road in Cincinnati, Ohio. Where, even if you arrived empty-handed and unable to contribute on a given night, you were welcomed and encouraged to eat all you liked. But, when you finished, you wiped your mouth, straightened your tie, and personally acknowledged every single cook who'd just fed you. Yes. Even all those amateurs who filled your belly for "free."

I have and will continue to run ads on some of my sites, including 43 Folders. It will be left to the reader whether this is wise, well-done, or simply hypocritical, so I'll just simply stipulate that, in my opinion, ads alone are not the problem; they're an easy revenue stream that can be removed with trivial ease. But. Making a career out of executing work exclusively to generate page views that support those ads? That is where this gets thorny. I don't do that (at least now I don't), but judge away. ↩
Not that there's anything wrong with that; some of my best friends are "just a blogger." ↩
Yeah. Totally stole that from Robert Evans. ↩

”Free as in "Me"” was written by Merlin Mann for 43Folders.com and was originally posted on April 10, 2009. Except as noted, it's ©2010 Merlin Mann and licensed for reuse under CC BY-NC-ND 3.0. "Why a footer?"

43f Podcast: John Gruber & Merlin Mann's Blogging Panel at SxSW

Merlin — Wed, 25 Mar 2009 19:33:08 -0400

SxSW ’09 - Gruber & Mann - HOWTO: 149 Surprising Ways to Turbocharge Your Blog With Credibility! (audio mp3, free on iTunes)

My pal, John Gruber (from daringfireball.net), and I presented a talk at South by Southwest Interactive on Saturday, March 14th. We talked about building a blog you can be proud of, trying to improve the quality of your work, reaching the people you admire, and maybe even making a buck (in a way that doesn’t blow your deal). Here’s what we had to say:

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N.B.: Awesome drawing by Dave Gray. Here's more.

Selected Notes

”43f Podcast: John Gruber & Merlin Mann's Blogging Panel at SxSW” was written by Merlin Mann for 43Folders.com and was originally posted on March 25, 2009. Except as noted, it's ©2010 Merlin Mann and licensed for reuse under CC BY-NC-ND 3.0. "Why a footer?"

Matt Jones: "Get Excited and Make Things"

Merlin — Wed, 18 Mar 2009 12:38:06 -0400

Don't keep calm and carry on. by moleitau

Apart from noting that I adore Matt and want to acknowledge his inspiration for this, I have nothing to add.

This, my friends, is the thing.

”Matt Jones: "Get Excited and Make Things"” was written by Merlin Mann for 43Folders.com and was originally posted on March 18, 2009. Except as noted, it's ©2010 Merlin Mann and licensed for reuse under CC BY-NC-ND 3.0. "Why a footer?"

Kutiman, Big Media, and the Future of Creative Entrepreneurship

Merlin — Wed, 11 Mar 2009 11:51:00 -0400

So amazing, so illegal. What are we going to do with you, future?

That's my pal, Jonathan Coulton, remarking on the disruptively talented Kutiman, who has made an astounding series of YouTube video remixes that's lighting up the web and (one imagines) generating a lot of wood amongst our nation's libidinous entertainment litigators.

Here's Kutiman's "The Mother of All Funk Chords" (link includes credits for each video):

Unsolicited tip for media company c-levels: if your reaction to this crate of magic is "Hm. I wonder how we'd go about suing someone who 'did this' with our IP?" instead of, "Holy crap, clearly, this is the freaking future of entertainment," it's probably time to put some ramen on your Visa and start making stuff up for your LinkedIn page.

Because, this is what your new Elvis looks like, gang. And, eventually somebody will figure out (and publicly admit) that Kutiman, and any number of his peers on the "To-Sue" list, should be passed from Legal down to A&R.

Everybody knows the business has moved from legal to binary files. The question now is how much more lead time old media companies and other IP-obsessives can afford to burn by pretending it's otherwise.

In the mean time, though, you have to wonder how much artists like Kutiman (or, for that matter, Jonathan), really need the mixed basket of theoretical benefits that big companies with big distribution can provide. For a long-lived career, does a boot-strapping indie artist with giant niche appeal gain enough from a big-company relationship to offset the loss in agility, equity, and flexibility? I guess we'll find out soon enough.

Because, even in the face of bullying, obfuscating, and throat-clearing from corporations with a homemade timetable for evolution, more and more folks like Kutiman will just keep making and releasing stuff. Cool stuff, "illegal" stuff, niche stuff, and stuff that doesn't require the benediction of a middle-aged executive in order to reach its precise audience with almost zero friction or overhead.

And, that prospect should buoy and energize anybody with a scintilla of artistic entrepreneurship or the drive to just try making and offering their own stuff in their own way.

Man. What an exciting time this is. Seriously. We may not each have Kutiman-level talent and vision, but there's absolutely never been a better time to at least give it a throw.

Remember: the only person who can sit on your ass is you.

”Kutiman, Big Media, and the Future of Creative Entrepreneurship” was written by Merlin Mann for 43Folders.com and was originally posted on March 11, 2009. Except as noted, it's ©2010 Merlin Mann and licensed for reuse under CC BY-NC-ND 3.0. "Why a footer?"

43f Podcast: Gangs, Constraints, and Courageous Blocks

Merlin — Tue, 03 Feb 2009 10:57:36 -0500

iTunes: "Gangs, Constraints, and Courageous Blocks"

Learn how ganging and constraints can help you create the blocks of time you need to devote 100% of your attention to making your best work. (10:32)

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Thanks for your patience, everybody. Nice to be back.

”43f Podcast: Gangs, Constraints, and Courageous Blocks” was written by Merlin Mann for 43Folders.com and was originally posted on February 03, 2009. Except as noted, it's ©2010 Merlin Mann and licensed for reuse under CC BY-NC-ND 3.0. "Why a footer?"

Celtx: Powerful Free App for Script Writing, Pre-Production, and Collaboration

Merlin — Sun, 01 Feb 2009 13:27:10 -0500

celtx - Integrated Media Pre-Production

QPR - CryingStore - "Cold Tulips" by merlinmann (Celtx - Project Central)

I've recently returned to using the Open Source (MPL-based CePL license) Celtx app for all the script-ish stuff I write. But it does a lot more than just collect and format drafts (which, unlike a text file or MS Word, Celtx does in a way that lets you focus solely on writing, rather than fiddly formatting). It's also an amazingly flexible and robust app for managing all the pre-production materials for screenplays, comics, audio plays, or what have you. And, again: it's totally free.

Celtx reminds me favorably of Scrivener, in that it takes into account that there may be much more to a very large writing project than just typing; that your final draft only serves as the jumping-off point for another, more giant thing that you will need to make out of all your words.

To this end, you can choose to let Celtx handle as little or as much of the process as you need — anything from storyboarding and conceptualization through shooting schedules, prop management -- even animal handling! (Memo to self: write more things that require animal handling.)

One neat feature I've just barely started playing with is the app's ability to seamlessly share versioned drafts of your script via Celtx's web-based Project Central. Looks like you can flip a bit to make it public v. private v. members-only. And, I still haven't touched the coolest online feature of all, which allows you to solicit criticism and notes from other users and even collaborate with colleagues, co-writers, and production staff -- kinda like "SVN for Screenplays," I'll dub it, in a way that will probably infuriate everyone who uses either of those.

Anyhow, here's the script for my recent public radio "CryingStore" parody as an example. Powerful app, and very flexible and fun to use. And at $200+ less than the commercial gorilla, FinalDraft, it's most definitely worth the free-as-in-everything download.

Celtx - FREE - Open Source - Application for Script Writing and "Integrated Media Pre-Production"

Celtx Links:

celtx - #1 choice for media pre-production. (Overview/Intro)
celtx - Screen Shots
Celtx Features: The Feature Tour
celtx - FAQ
Main Page - CeltxWiki
celtx - Download Version 1.0 (Dang, man: 4 platforms and up to 23 languages. Nice)

”Celtx: Powerful Free App for Script Writing, Pre-Production, and Collaboration” was written by Merlin Mann for 43Folders.com and was originally posted on February 01, 2009. Except as noted, it's ©2010 Merlin Mann and licensed for reuse under CC BY-NC-ND 3.0. "Why a footer?"