I think I give up

It’s very hard to watch what’s going on in the senate today and feel as though you or I have any say in this representational government of ours. It’s a kind of hopeless feeling I’ve never had before. Never before has it been so obvious, so blatant, so in-our-face that the majority opinion of citizens—with the power to vote—are so inconsequential to the choices our elected representatives make on matters of grave importance. Specifically, gun control.

I see so clearly now, that despite ALL the scientific evidence, despite all the support and agreement from gun owners and non gun owners, that money is the only source of power in our representational government. What’s worse, is you and I live with this illusion that the Internet has given us a bigger voice, made it easier to affect change. But if you think about it, that’s only true of companies you shop with. Internet outrage can stop the Gap from changing its logo, but that’s because you’re the one paying them all the money.

And the simultaneous news lines of this vote in the senate, sitting right next to the story of a man killed in his home despite knowing he was a target, and having weapons strategically placed through his home to defend against the murderer, feels like slap in the face to reasonable, logical thought.

It’s depressing in a way I’ve never felt before. In a way that doesn’t inspire me to take action. In a way that makes me think, it’s hopeless. And I can honestly say never before have I felt this way about my country.

I might feel better tomorrow. I need a cultural happy moment to counterbalance all the sad.

What’s needed to make it work

Wise words from friend Chris Colbert. I’ve been repeating them in my head.

my own “top 5 rules” for hiring

Today my biz partner asked me how I decided which person to hire. Or maybe I asked myself. Either way, it made me think about exactly what I do look for.

Or, more accurately, looked for when I was hiring people to create editorial print and web products. These are my own unsolicited rules. There are probably more, but 5 is such a popular number of things to have…

1. You’ve got to work with people who are fascinated by humans. Look for the searchers of cause and effect, the people who make accurate correlations and ridiculous associations. The ones who can smell what’s next before anyone sees or hears a thing. Animals.

2. Hire people with plenty of confidence, ones who are comfortable being laughed at for their ideas and who still press go. The good ones will always have a backup plan in case they are wrong. (“arts” schooling of any kind helps with this)

3. If they’re not curious by nature, forget it. If they aren’t excited by the act of learning, forget it. Things change all the time. You don’t want people who are “trying to keep up,” you want the folks more comfortable leading down the new dark scary path.

4. Look for the ones who want to know why before they do a damn thing. They’ll give it their heart and soul. They’ll challenge the way you want to execute an idea, and keep you true to the mission.

5. Never hire anyone who is intimidated by you, or shows exceptional deference, because they won’t be honest when you have stupid ideas.

Mountain! Get outta my way! *

My experience is likely my biggest obstacle. You’d think it would be an asset, and it probably will be under different circumstances, but right now, at this moment, my experience is making things awfully difficult. I’ve launched a lot of things, meaning I’ve had ideas and executed them and done all the things wrong and right and learned a lot in the process. So that seems good too, right?

In theory, yes. In practice, no. What I learned from film school and work (with really smart people) was process: how to build good, creative things within constraints (money, time, resources etc..) hire the right people, create a functioning structure, set logical deadlines, and show other people how to implement it. I learned the most efficient and effective ways to make good things. For a long time put this skill to use by increasing the amount of money made by other people’s businesses. And in return, I got to build things using money from other people’s businesses. (OPBs, I’ll call them.)

Now there’s no money anywhere. So my process expertise feels pretty useless right now. But being so damn sure of what works, and not succeeding in doing it my way, was causing me to run in place. Not just jog in place, mind you. Run in place. Then I collapsed. Then I got up and figured out how to go up and around the obstacles so I can actually move forward. Sort of.

So even though experienced me keeps yapping, “that’s inefficient!” I have to just go back to who I was before I learned anything—to see the world like I don’t know how. Because in reality, not in theory, I don’t.

 

** “Mountain! Get outta my way” was a memorable quote—for all the wrong reasons—from a speech by the great (late?) Montel Williams to my husband’s freshman class at college. (Don’t ask.)

The start of the start-up

The signup page for the weddingguest.org beta site went live on 3/10. I only told my family and a couple friends who knew about it in advance. And was sad to find very few of my nearest and dearest even signed up. Let alone shared it with anyone. What a grand showing of support! So either I need to rewrite something, or find a new family. Either one seems plausible at this point. 

Can I get a conclave over here?

Look at us. It’s embarrassing. We’re helplessly fascinated by all the cool weird rituals surrounding the selection of the pope. Of course we want to hear about the white smoke (whoooo) and the black smoke (oooo, ohhhhhhoooo) and imagine vaulting ceilings and all those long white robes with red robes seeming to float en masse over marble floors.

No one from the Vatican has even tried to get us to buy the previous story about the pope. The one we all heard for years–about the pope being touched or chosen by god.

So we don’t even get to wonder about the reality of the magic in the conclave, and it’s STILL compelling–it’s the rituals, those weird, ancient, other-worldly rituals. I can’t help but watch. And it hasn’t even gotten good yet. (And by “good” I mean very very bad)

sometimes I feel like

“She spent almost all of her time walking about in her picketty-pecketty fashion, scratching everywhere for worms.”

.

Hello my name is…Me

For 15 years I have regularly attended and disliked “networking events.” I registered for the NYU Entrepreneur Festival because a wise friend suggested it, and it seemed like the right thing to do. I was not exactly looking forward to it. But it was good–great in fact. 

Huh, that’s weird. 

 

Mulling over why it felt so strikingly different from any event I’d attended before, I concluded there were many smart choices made by the organizers, and the volunteer staff was exceptionally great. But I also realized it was the first time I’d ever attended an event as myself, not as the representative of someone else’s brand. I wasn’t everybody’s key to reaching an audience. I was just me, and all I had to offer was the brain in my head, and the body standing in my (comfortable) shoes. And that was enough.

 

For the first time ever, I networked (just writing it makes me quiver with disgust). So let’s instead say I, started conversations, and I met really great people, with ideas and advice flowing both ways. I had a perma-smile for 48 hours. I got to attend this event, rather than be carried around in a gilded cage. As a wise friend told me once, live that way and all you get is a velvet coffin.

OCD or Awesome?

I did this green collecting the other week when Vine was introduced. I wanted to see their minty green against all the other greens, and then I got carried away. But a funny thing happened on the way to the … Continue reading →

“A talking fetus walks into a bar…”

Over-thinking it? Usually. But creating the “beta signup to see something when we have something” page for the site is harder than it seems. Does every successful website do this? Yes. Should we do this? Yes.
We’re doing it.

But that’s not going to stop me from questioning it the whole way through.

I tried to explain my thoughts to my partner with, “It’s like a talking fetus. The product isn’t built slash born yet, so why is it talking to anyone? It just feels unnatural. I have no idea what a talking fetus says.” (Can you believe I actually get to work with people who understand/appreciate that whacked-out analogy? Yes, I do get down on my knees and thank my lucky stars about that every day.)

They also understand that making the marketing for a product before the product is both common and profoundly inefficient. If you put all your effort into the product, “marketing” is just a proper introduction. Once the fetus is a baby, you can take it’s picture and give it a name, and send out birth announcements.

Later I explained, again, “You know the signup page is like approaching a girl at a bar and immediately asking for her phone number. Who does that? You’re not even offering to buy her a drink!”

So yes, it’s taken far longer than seems right to finish the sign up page. And I’ve been judging myself pretty harshly for that. “Just Ship! Just Ship! appears from everywhere and screams in my ears. For the last months I’ve felt like there’s a big rope around my waist, cartoon-style, pulling me forward with major velocity. (This pervasive sense that time running out, is likely fear of poverty or death, or just my usual impatience ratcheted up a few notches.) It’s almost a physical struggle to stand still, to NOT ship. But it’s not ready.

I’ve searched for a hidden, self-destructive fear beyond my consciousness and if there is some deep, dark reason I’m unaware of that is stopping me, I can’t find it. Sometimes, Mr. Freud, not ready is just not ready. I have to trust that after all these years of making many many things on a punishing schedule, I know when good enough is good enough, and when it’s not. (That’s how eight people got 32 issues out the door each year.)

I have to figure out what this fetus looks like and sounds to get a girl to agree to a date. But I’ll settle for keeping her from running away in horror.

(I like a low bar)

Build what you know

Imagining your user’s wants and needs is a waste of time. If you’re not the user, save yourself the time and aggravation and build a different product.

hello?

In a couple days we will be launching the signup page for the site.

Whether that matters or not is a matter of perspective and obviously from my POV, it’s a very big deal.

But part of me can’t help but wonder if I’m getting dressed up for a party and about to walk into an empty room, in an empty city. Or maybe that was a nightmare I had.