Have you ever taken a look at a copy of Vanity Fair magazine?  I am guessing that my trip through Vanity Fair at the checkout stand a couple weeks back was the first time I’d ever parted the pages of this well known periodical.  I don’t really find much about the magazine that interests me but decided to thumb through it when a recent issue featured Tina Fey on the cover.  I love Tina Fey.  I think she is hilarious and attractive in the same awkward way that Zach Braff is hilarious and attractive.  I can only imagine what would happen if those two had kids together…

But Tina Fey and Zach Braff are not what this post is really about.  This post is about standing out from the crowd once you realize how really, really crowded it is.

So I opened this issue of Vanity Fair to check out the article about Tina Fey that is inside.  Like most magazines the first few pages were advertisements.  Unlike most magazines I ventured more than 40 pages in before I found the TABLE OF CONTENTS.  And even more unlike most magazines this table of contents was continued some 80 pages later at around page 120.  I can’t even describe my amazement when I realized that the table of contents was further continued at some later point in the issue.  To recap:  I was over 120 pages into the magazine and hadn’t yet been shown the entire table of contents.  At that point I just started flipping through hoping to catch a glimpse of Miss Fey that would help me localize the article I was searching for.  Sadly, I didn’t have 45 minutes to find the article and ended up just giving up on the whole endeavor.

Through the first 120 pages of that issue there were 118 pages of advertisements.  I understand why the magazine does this, I just can’t fathom why any advertisers pay for it.  There are two forces at play that make it seem like a really bad idea.  First, you are selling advertising in a publication that is fundamentally broken.  The argument there is likely to be that Vanity Fair is as much about the cutting edge brands that advertise in the magazine as it is about the actual editorial content.  Okay, it’s clearly not my bread and butter, but if that’s your schtick then fine.  Second, how do you convince someone to pay a premium to be squeezed into the explosion (vomit?) of ad space that makes up those first 118 pages?  How do you sell the idea that you can really reach someone in a meaningful way when you have 117 other ads all bombarding them before they even reach the conclusion of the table of contents?  I’m not their target reader, but I have no recollection of anything on those first 120 pages other than the notable exclusion of one Tina Fey.  There are lots of advertisers spending money to be in that melee, I just don’t know why.

I really can’t figure it out but here’s what I take from it in my never ending pursuit of being awesome:  You can’t hope to stand out in an ocean of people when you are all doing the same thing.  My advice is to find your niche and pursue it to the exclusion of the wider channels that are filled with “everyone else”.  Get really serious about being you and avoid doing things that are safe, comfortable, or conventional.  If everyone else thinks it’s a good idea, then it should be pretty clear that it isn’t.  I encourage you to think about how you fit in your community and find ways to be unique and indispensable.  If you are one of 118 ads fighting for attention then you are working really hard with very little return on your investment of time and energy.  I believe that it’s much better to reach a smaller audience that wants to hear your message than to reach a gigantic audience that has little interest.*  I also believe that this philosophy applies to pretty much everything you do.

Don’t waste your time doing the things everyone else does.  Chart your own narrow course and do work that matters.

That’s all I have to say.  Now go be awesome.

* I do understand that the advertisers in Vanity Fair are actually talking to people who are interested, but they are doing it on a conference call with 117 other people.  And they are all talking at the same time…

This is why “careful” is really trouble

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When you own a small business you wear many different hats and must navigate working both in your business and on your business.  As an entrepreneur I spend about 40 hours a week working inside my business (fully clothed, thank you) taking care of administrative tasks, interacting with my customers, producing work for my customers, and helping my staff do the great work they are capable of.  This work is important, necessary, rewarding, and, to be frank, safe.  It’s the appropriate work for me to be doing during those 40-hours each week, but it is not my best work.  My best work is the thought work that I accomplish when I’m not inside my shop.  It is the big picture, pie in the sky, has-anyone-ever-tried-this-before, terrifying kind of visioning that can’t happen from inside the trenches, but must happen somewhere.  It’s my job to think big and challenge my own conventions.  It’s my job to find the time, place, and situation that is most conducive to productive thought and go there regularly, even if I have to be naked to get there.  And whether you are an entrepreneur or not, I believe it’s your job too.

Of all the work that I accomplish in and out of my shop I can confidently ascribe the most value to the thinking that happens in my shower.  While there are lots of other situations in my out-of-the-shop life that I find great thinking takes place, none is more consistently profitable than when I’m perfectly alone, standing under streams of hot water.  Which makes me wonder.  Where does it happen for you?  Do you know?

I think we all would be well served to think about the work we do and to consider when, where, and why we produce our best work.  Regardless of your vocation or where you spend the bulk of your time there is a thing that matters to you that you do best in a specific circumstance.  Perhaps you like to write in the morning, or sit at your desk on an exercise ball.  Something out there is a catalyst to do your best work and you can probably figure it out if you think about it for a little bit.

And it’s not an accident.  It’s biology, chemistry, physiology, psychology, and probably about a dozen more “ologies” that I understand even less.  Thankfully it’s not really important that I understand every detail of why I do my best thinking in the shower, but that I recognize the value and actually do it.  I believe putting yourself in the situations that yield your best work is a repeatable practice.

When you are “in the zone” and really connecting with your work in a meaningful way it offers a kind of high. I’m sure there’s some chemistry involved there too.  It’s a place you wish you could operate from all the time, and it can be frustrating that you can’t, but if you were doing your best work all the time it would just be called work. It’s the fact that you can’t always be doing your best work, in your ideal circumstance, that makes it valuable.

So figure it out.  Find your “shower”.  Convince yourself, your boss, or you spouse why it’s important and beneficial and go there when you can.  Remember, pursuing your best work will make you valuable and necessary in ways that your peers are not. You will still need to do a lot of good work, but don’t ever forget that YOU have “best” work.

As for me, I need to go take a shower.

That’s all I have to say.  Now go be awesome.