I'm looking forward to lots of time on my bike (if it ever stops raining, dammit) and an opportunity to continue work on my ever-growing collection of haiku and larger poems. Over the past year, writing one or two haiku per day has become something of a daily ritual and an exercise in meditation.

Haiku has always been one of my favorite verse forms to read, and I've previously featured the master Matsuo Basho as part of this weekly Poetry Friday series.  

But I've become particularly enamored of the American haiku, a "form" championed by Jack Kerouac. In the opening to his Book of Haikus, Kerouac wrote:

Distilling life into three lines is an invigorating experience. You start paying attention --- really paying attention -- to the ordinary, and make them extraordinary by simply writing them down. 

When you get right down to it, life is really just a few short lines.  Try compressing your worldview into three lines.  Write them, live them, write them again. 

With that in mind, here's a few selections from my own files:

Two fingers of whisky

A discarded match

And a stubby pencil, broken.

No mail today

   Only rain ---

Light breeze.

Singing, pulling weeds

Country hymns more lovely

Than angry city bustle.

Riffing on Writing - Episode #37 - Erika Napoletano

For most of my listeners and readers, Erika Napoletano needs no introduction.

The sassy and delightfully profane brand strategist and columnist for Entrepreneur Magazine and American Express OPEN Forum has been kicking ass and taking names in the blogosphere since 2009. 

Her style is no-bullshit and delivers a punch to the gut like no other blogger I've ever known. She uses the word "fuck" like a comma, and her Bitch Slap series is guaranteed to knock you out of a rut. 

Don't piss her off.

Brands will always be unpopular to someone, a theme that Erika explores extensively in her 2012 book The Power of Unpopular. But it's way more than that --- it's about living the life that you want, on your terms, and not according to the expectations of others. Polarization isn't a liability. it's an asset.

A simple, powerful truth that so many people -- myself included -- forget far too often. Stop apologizing for being honest? Right on, sister.  

A word of warning: There's some, um, colorful language in this episode -- but it fits.  

If you haven't ever seen Erika's TEDxBoulder talk, I've embedded it below. 

Enjoying the show? Leave me your comments and feedback below, or head over to iTunes and leave a review there. Cheers!

I remember those wide-eyed days of wonder. 

The tiles in the restroom gave me vertigo

The moment when I realized that I had a knack for penning a good tale and couldn't see really seeing myself doing anything else but writing.  I remember sitting in my middle school and high school English classes, furiously devouring the work of authors who have since contributed measurably to my style and worldview - Hemingway, Ginsberg, Kerouac, Roth, Shakespeare. 

I also remember the moment when I realized -- some years later -- that writing (and publishing) poetry and fiction wasn't going to net me a million dollars at the drop of a hat, and that I had to (gasp!) find other meaningful work that enabled me to pursue the writing projects full-bore. 

Back to those students.

We talked about what they liked most about the prospect of having a writing career and what they liked most about their favorite authors. I heard a lot about Twilight, Harry Potter, and Suzanne Collins. We had a rousing discussion about S.E. Hinton's The Outsiders -- a book I've not thought much about in decades, but an important novel of my youth -- as they were all reading it in their English classes. I made a prediction that when they'd read J.D. Salinger's Catcher in the Rye the following year, they might see a bit of themselves in Holden Caulfield -- or they'd despise him for being whiny.  

At fourteen, I was Holden Caulfield in so many ways. 

Oh - and the questions! They asked great, probing questions: 

• Where can I submit my work?
• How do you overcome writer's block?
• Who do you read?
• Can we see some of your poems? 
  
• Can I really make money writing?

Of course, I explained to them my view of writer's block (read: it doesn't exist, but excuses do) and shared a few selections from my ever-growing collection of American haiku. 

They had a tough time seeing writer's block as a fictional construct we writers thrust upon ourselves to make our suffering a bit more real. I mean, we've all been there:  fingers hovering over the keys or the hand gripping a pencil over a blank page, and -- nothing.

Crickets. The ticking of the clock. Suddenly very, very aware of the deafening silence that surrounds.  

I could see the consternation in their eyes:  What do you mean it's not real?  

Once I explained to them that deadlines slay writer's block, they got it. 

'Twas a fun day -- and I was thankful for the opportunity to engage in conversation with a group of students that reminded me so much of myself.  

There was a resilience and a determination in each one of those thirty-five students.

They were prepared to hate everything that they had ever written -- a skill invaluable for aspiring writers that I've only recently learned myself -- and keep working at getting better. They were confident in their own abilities and willing to take creative risks. 

I learned from them.

And it was good.

So to the students of Maple Avenue Middle School, thank you. Thank you for letting me into your world and sharing a bit of mine. 

This is the second review in my monthly book review series, although I will admit that I am a few weeks behind. The normal schedule will resume in June now that I've sorted out some kinks in the content calendar and rebooted a few things in my life and business to accomodate those changes in approach, philosophy and execution.  

There's no denying that businesses of all sizes and shapes are experiencing the growing pains associated with the move to an all-digital culture. Social media, content marketing, mobile apps -- the list goes on and on. For some industries, the shift is less painful, while others are spinning their wheels. This moment -- right now -- is historic.  One could argue, as Mitch does, that this is perhaps the first time that consumers are undeniably ahead of the brands jockeying for their attention and their loyalty. Consumers are more connected and more informed, thanks to the ubiquity of technological advances like mobile internet, the smartphone, and - yes - the social web. 

This power shift that places the consumer ahead of the brand is the cause of an upheaval in business. Organizations are struggling to adapt to the incredible technological changes that have been thrust upon them over the past several years. Some might not make it through to the other side. And while this period of uncertainty might be scary from the outside, it also holds great opportunity for individuals and industries alike. 

Sound familiar? It should. It's the organizing principle behind truly effective content marketing:  provide value in everything that you manufacture, publish, and distribute and you're one step closer towards lift and loyalty. Give your consumers something that they actually want and need to use, they'll love you forever.  We're at the very beginning of this new utilitarianism (read: help, not hype) marketing, a theme that I'll explore next month with my review of Jay Baer's Youtility -- and Mitch argues that the rise of utilitarianism, WIIFM (what's in it for me) marketing is the next great business disruptor. I'm inclined to agree. By focusing on marketing that add value to the lives of the people using your product or service, your brand will be strengthened. 

Value = Loyalty

As some of you may know, I've started cycling as a way to restore some much needed physical and mental well-being into my day-to-day. Being the technology junkie that I am, I've started investigating various types of wearable tech to track my activity and easily interface with my cyclometer. There are some obvious players in the market: Nike FuelBand, the Jambone Up and the Fitbit Flex. I'll not bore you with the details of each, but there's something to note: all of these brands have introduced deep utility into their product offerings. They're making it easier for me to use technology to gain insights about my physical activity, sleep patterns, eating habits -- and compete with my friends via a mobile app integration. What these brands have shown is that providing value and solving real problems through technology keeps the eyes of their customers and advocates trained on them -- and not on their competition. 

What It Means

The "purgatory" that Mitch describes -- businesses responding to the proliferation of participatory media but not quite knowing about where to go from here -- requires a new pedagogy and The Reboot. There is tremendous opportunity to rethink about how we work, the manner of work that we do, and creating the future in everything that we do. That's the most exciting promise of this book to me -- that brand longevity and success rests squarely on the shoulders of entrepreneurs inside and outside the four walls of "business".  The diversity of projects that I find myself involved in professionally on a daily basis is exciting, because it gives me the opportunity to learn, share, and create with a wide range of personalities and skill sets. Those intersections of project and purpose leads to innovation where it matters most -- in the positive growth of my business, my partnerships, and a life that is fulfilling because its challenges, not in spite of them. 

Mitch's Lessons From A Digital-First Posture

• Humanity first: Authenticity matters. Use technology to be more human, not less. 
• Become a digital native: This stuff is exciting, so get out there and play. Try out new tools and platforms with a bit of childhood wonder.
• Social scoring ain't a fad: Klout, PeerIndex, and other social scoring systems are becoming more powerful, so it pays to give them a little attention now and then.
• Be humble: Not everything you create and share is going to be a big hit. There's a lesson in the silence to realign and try a different approach. And mistakes? They're going to happen and you're going to make them.
• Simplicity rules: Simple tools and straightforward processes yield simplicity and big value. 

The TL; DR: 

If you're thinking about the monumental changes that are happening in business right at this very moment and want to figure out how to survive the shifting sands, then read this book. Mitch's conversational style will help you figure out this post-disruptive world. I'll stop short of calling it a road map, but it's definitely a traveler's guide. 

Iain Broome is a writer, editor and digital media researcher at Sheffield Hallam University in the UK. His debut novel, A is for Angelica, was published in 2012 by Legend Press and is available in paperback, Kindle, and iBook format in the UK. Here in the States, it is available on Kindle and the iBookstore. 

Iain and I were first indirectly introduced to one another through show alum and 70Decibels/5x5 podcaster Michael Schechter some time ago, and I've followed his podcast and blog ever since. We soon discovered that we've traveled similar paths -- studying literature, moving into professional communications work, and now struggling to carve out the time to write and create when the pressures of the day job, family commitments, and general stuff gets in the way. 

As the father of 7-month old twins, Iain knows exactly how challenging it can be to spend time writing as he is currently working on his second novel.  He shares some of the things he's learned along the way during our conversation.  

I'm grateful that we were finally able to chat via Skype despite the five-hour time difference between the East Coast and the UK. I'll not mention what time it was in the UK during our interview. Let's just say that it was, um, late.

Enjoying the show? Leave me your comments and feedback below, or head over to iTunes and leave a review there. Cheers!

I didn't set out to take a hiatus from the blog, but after a series of misfires and false starts last week combined with new business meetings, client deliverables, and other professional commitments and responsibilities, Friday was upon me.  And you know what? It felt surprisingly good. After I'd swallowed the anxiety, that is. Life, as they say, marched onward. My world didn't collapse. A plague of locusts wasn't beset upon my family and friends as cosmic retribution for missing a few day's worth of blog posts. 

Starting each morning pulling together a post has been part of my routine for many years, and it's served me well. I've often written on the necessity ofcultivating a daily writing practice. It's a simple and powerfully effective technique for unlocking your inner stores of creative inspiration, especially on those days when the well seems to be running dry. I've tried to shortcut a few times, and I can say that it never, ever ends well. This space exists as a way to showcase my work indirectly, but its primary worth to me is as an idea lab, a place where I can think about -- and through -- the problems and issues facing my profession and industry, passing along my insights and perspectives along the way.  Filling it with stuff is exciting because I believe wholly in the promise of the Internet as a democratizing force, disrupting conventional media and publishing channels.  

But.

Taking time away from the blog was a good thing, because it gave me an opportunity to think more about the things that really matter in making this life a good one. I stopped hunting for ideas and started listening more closely. I wrote a lot of haiku (more on that soon, I promise) and focused on becoming more observant. I've started cycling to put a renewed focus on my physical and mental well-being.

The ideas weren't Out There. They were right in front of me. I didn't give them enough attention, and they left. 

It's 1:30 in the afternoon, and ordinarily, I'd be freaking out that it's this late in the day and ZOMG I STILL HAVEN'T FINISHED THIS BLOG POST.

I'm not so worried now.

I'm looking at this editorial mission and content calendar with fresh eyes and a fresh perspective. I'm okay with writing without a clear purpose occasionally to keep the fires burning, because it ultimates means more discernible value to my clients and my readers -- the people who keep reading this stuff. There are things I can do for my immediate and long-term success, so I'm doing them. 

Cool?

Enjoy your Monday, folks. I know I will. 

Poetry Friday: Czeslaw Milosz 

Awarded the Nobel Prize for Poetry in 1980, Czesław Miłosz was one of the most influential and respected figures in twentieth-century Polish literature -- and the world. As the first-generation offspring to two Polish immigrants, I've always had a special affinity for his work.

Born in the small rural Lithuanian village of Szetejnie on June 30, 1911, where his parents fled to escape political turmoil and upheaval in their native Poland, he spent much of his childhood in Czarist Russia, where his father was a civil engineer. He never identified as either a Lithuanian nor a Pole, instead proclaiming that he was the one of the last citizens of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania, a historic region defined by changing political boundaries and complex, overlapping national identities.  

He once said of his national ambiguity, "I am a Lithuanian to whom it was not given to be a Lithuanian." 

His first collection of poems was published in 1934, after he co-founded the avante-garde literary group Zagary with the "Catastrophic" school of Polish poets, a group that collectively (and chillingly) foreshadowed the rise of fascism and the beginnings of WWII through their writings. When Poland was invaded by Nazi Germany, Mias were two of my great-uncles -- in Warsaw, writing and editing subversive literature under a pseudonym.  

He wrote entirely in Polish, his work translated by a number of poets, including Poetry Friday alums Robert Hass and Robert Pinsky, both of whom who count Miłosz as a major influence of their own work. 

Following the end of World War II, Miłosz served as a cultural attaché to the newly formed Communist government in Poland, but defected and sought asylum in France in 1951. Consequently, his work was censored from publication in Poland, though his poems were secretly printed and circulated through the underground network. When he won the prestigious Nobel Prize for Poetry in 1980, the government relented on its official position to not publish the work of defectors -- and a government-authorized edition of his collected poems sold 200,000 copies. Critics have focused on his work as the product of a thinker and political figure who has lived through fascism and totalitarian regimes -- a dissident literary figure that echoes the voice of his ancestry, his people, and his continent. His poems are often steeped in themes of loss and despair.  

He died in 2004 in Krakow at the age of 93.

Czeslaw Milosz, "Account" from The Collected Poems: 1931-1987. Copyright © 1988 by Czeslaw Milosz Royalties, Inc. Used by permission of HarperCollins Publishers.

Source: The Collected Poems: 1931-1987 (The Ecco Press, 1988)

Riffing on Writing - Episode #35 - Jennifer Kane

Whiz-bang marketing and communications consultant by day, Jennifer Kane has found a new pursuit: penning erotic fiction.  

We first met, as many do, online -- and quickly discovered that we had an affinity of Tolkien, Stephen King, and scads of other nerdy writing-type stuff. Most recently, she immortalized my beard during her presentation at this past year's Social Slam event in Knoxville. The phone has been ringing off the hook. The beard is now seeking an agent and accepting bookings. Cough. 

Her decision to start writing erotic fiction? On a lark. Penning provocative prose (oh hai, alliteration!) has landed her a book deal, so we naturally began our conversation there, amidst lots of laughter and gentle ribbing. 

But we didn't stop there. We talked about some of the ways indie authors are using online communities and the power of the internet to carve out a niche and maybe, just maybe, get their big breaks into the archaic world of traditional publishing, the dangers of focusing too closely on process, and why fetishizing the creative class doesn't work out in the end.

Enjoying the show? Leave me your comments and feedback below, or head over to iTunes and leave a review there. Cheers!

The past 2.5 years' worth of posts reflect quite a journey: some lapses in judgment, and more than few lengthy debates in the comments that went on for pages. Some silence when nary a soul clicked a share button. Long periods of inactivity when I told myself that I just didn't have anything worthwhile to say or contribute. The temptation to toss the whole thing aside and quit.

Paging through the post archives tells a fascinating story -- and I walk myself through them from time to time to remind myself of where I started, how I've changed, and what still needs some attention and work. Creating "stuff" for public consumption can be humbling. You learn the value of honest, forthright criticism and you start to see the shortcomings in the work that you're putting out into the world. The value of the work in your head and what winds up on the page don't always sync up neatly -- something I've often called the disappointment gap.  

Self-contained projects like this site and the new passion project I'm working on with Daniel Agee are, in some small way, a commitment to getting better and improving while doing new things. Iterating, to borrow a concept from Agile Methodology, as an inspect-and-adapt approach to development that takes on a new importance when you apply it to conditions in your own life. It's what I'm doing now: taking stock, making changes, and working towards a better version -- and also recognizing that there is never a final version. 

If this sounds all doom-and-gloom, don't worry -- because it's not. Jason is not being a morose, troubled artist suffering under the weight of his own inner demons or that monkey hanging off his back. Promise. 

Now, I've got some planning and writing to do.

This archetype of the artist fits neatly into a mythology of creativity that has been advanced over the centuries -- and the annals of Western literature and art history are filled with iconic examples of the artist-as-dysfunctional, from the apocryphal tale of Van Gogh's expression of love through an act of self-mutilation to Hemingway's alcoholism and eventual suicide to the intense feelings of isolation and loneliness that runs through much of George Orwell's work. The popular conception of what it means to be an artist independent of medium focuses on the dark and the dismal. With so many examples firmly planted in our collective consciousness, is it any surprise that we have fetishized desperation as being central to the creative ideal? 

I've noticed that my biggest breakthroughs in my own creative journey stem from a common point of origin: anxiety.

Not in the "waking up in the middle of the night, cold sweats and panic attacks" sort of way, but more in the vein of solidifying an identity and purpose through the legacy of creative work, and that Self is continually changing and evolving. It's about finding voice, making a difference, and continually advancing as a writer. Because of this, creative work is at once iterative and destructive. Fear and anxiety can be great motivators for the expression of creativity and serve as founts of inspiration and source material.  Many of the world's creative individuals seem to be fearful of coming to a place of contentment.

If you remove the motivator, what drives the action? 

The concept of creativity has been divorced from the act of creating things. This is especially true when you look at the current literature on creativity, especially those aimed squarely at the business community.  Disgraced pop-journalist Jonah Lehrer's Imagine - How Creativity Works stands as a particularly interesting example in the category.

Unfortunately, it's been pulled from shelves by the publisher after it came to light that Lehrer fabricated quotes from Bob Dylan and self-plagiarized his own work.  You might be able to suss out a copy on eBay, if you're really curious. 

What Lehrer presents (quite well, I might add) is a seductive and pleasing abstraction of creativity -- you can enjoy what it can mean to be an artist in name, without actually doing the work necessary to create things.  That abstraction might be comforting, but it doesn't result in any more creative output, does it? 

I'll bet that's why it was so immensely popular before getting yanked from bookstores and online retailers.

The consequence of this abstraction: it diminishes the sheer joy and pleasure of creating things -- the genesis of real and true innovation. 

Fetishizing creativity and ideas-as-objects robs us of this most basic human activity. 

What do you think?

Photo credit: Abstract Magdalene on Flickr

Poetry Friday: Galway Kinnell (c) Richard Brown

As I was researching and writing last week's post on Sharon Olds, a name stuck out. And that name was Galway Kinnell, a poet whose work I've only experienced in passing. So, I cracked open the books, fired up the Google machine, and got to work.  

Kinnell won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry for his Selected Poems (1982), split the National Book Award for Poetry with Charles Wright in 1983, and was the poet laureate for the state of Vermont from 1989 to 1993. Growing up in Rhode Island and a self-described introvert, he turned to the work of reclusive writers like Edgar Allen Poe and Emily Dickinson, drawn to the musicality of their language and verse and their ability to lead largely solitary lives.  

After earning degrees from Princeton University (B.A.) and the University of Rochester (M.A.), he travelled extensively, including several long stays in Europe and the Middle East, before returning to the states during 1960s as political activist and demonstrator.  Notably, he joined the Congress for Racial Equality (CORE) and worked in Hammond, Louisiana at the height of the Civil Rights era on voter registration drives and workplace integration. 

Recognized by critics as being one of the first voices in American poetry to politicize verse in the 1960s, Kinnell "is a poet of the landscape, a poet of the city's underside and a poet who speaks for thieves, pushcart vendors and lumberjacks with an unforced simulation of the vernacular," noted Hudson Review contributor Vernon Young in a critical essay collected in Contemporary Literary Criticism. Much of his poetry focuses on the social and political injustices he observes in the world around him, drawing from a lifetime of experiences as an activist, civil rights volunteer, anti-war demonstrator and spiritualist.  Body Rags (1968) contains the lion's share of his most well-known and widely anthologized poems. I recognize the influences of Whitman on Kinnell's poetry, particularly in his love of nature, explorations of human consciousness, and quiet transcendental meditations. In fact, the poet went on to edit The Essential Whitman (1987).

Kinnell's latest book, Strong is Your Hold (2006), was released just before his eightieth birthday, and includes the long poem "When the Towers Fell," written in honor for 9/11. Now retired from active teaching, he now resides in Vermont -- and continues to write. 

Now, I have some reading to do. 

Galway Kinnell, “Rapture” from A New Selected Poetry. Copyright © 2000 by Galway Kinnell. Reprinted with the permission of Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved, www.houghtonmifflinbooks.com.

Source: A New Selected Poetry (2000)

This week's episode of Riffing on Writing is a bit different, because not once did Leslie Bradshaw and I mention the creative process or writing.

What we talked about instead: entrepreneurship, structuring dynamic creative teams and tackling the messy, crunchy challenges (and immense opportunities) of building businesses in the digital age. 

Leslie lives and breathes creativity through entrepreneurship. She co-founded LA-based data visualization and visual storytelling agency JESS3 with Jesse Thomas, growing their book of business to over $13M in revenue through 2012. The agency was named Small Agency of the Year for the Southeast Region that same year. 

She now serves as COO of Miami-based Guide, a technology startup that is translating online news and blog content into streaming audio and video.  

Oh - and she also runs a vineyard in Oregon's Willamette Valley. You know, in all that free time, right?

Check out the introductory video for Guide below to learn more and sign up for a beta invitation, too. It looks pretty darn snazzy to me. 

Spend some time with Leslie and you'll understand immediately why she's been named one of the top entrepreneurs under 30. Despite the occasional Skype hiccup and a hilariously well-timed ringing iPhone (cough, me), I thoroughly enjoyed stretching my brain and business know-how talking with Leslie.  She's really, really smart.  Don't believe me? Listen for yourself. 

Enjoying the show? Leave me your comments and feedback below, or head over to iTunes and leave a review there. Cheers!

When you're focused on the daily grind of business development, client deliverables and growing a business and family, it's easy to forget about those things in our lives that drive our passions and allow us to express ourselves in ways that career and professional responsibilities simply cannot.

I should know. Business is good, and opportunities for more personal and professional development are popping up all the time. For the first time in nearly two years, I'm feeling genuinely good about the trajectory that my life and career have taken, despite a few troubling and nerve-wracking stumbles in recent weeks. But - and I alluded to this in yesterday's post -- there's been something missing. Sorta. 

A Passion Project

I've talked about having passion projects in the past. Riffing on Writing was born as a passion project, and while it has demonstrated its value as a conversion mechanism for converting leads into new business for me, my commitment to interviewing interesting people doing amazing creative work hasn't changed.

Recording these weekly interviews is tremendous fun because it allows me the opportunity to learn about how people work, how they write, and get into their heads.  And if you've listened in the past, you've heard me say that having an audience that eagerly awaits each new episode is frosting on a pretty darn delicious cake. It's come a long way since that very first episode with Erin Faulk, talking about #FFtheFilm. My interviewing chops has gotten tighter and I've learned the value of solid equipment, good editing technique, and old fashioned "boots on the ground" marketing.  In the nine(ish) months that I've hung my shingle and gotten cozy behind the microphone, I've recorded 33 episodes, cursed at Audacity at least dozen times, and have had my brain stretched by my guests -- business owners, bloggers, authors, entrepreneurs, and visionaries in their own right. 

And while I haven't haven't been at the podcasting game nearly as long as show alums Srinivas Rao, Christopher Penn or Mitch Joel, I'm certainly proud of the quality of that creative work and the connections that have been forged as a result of all those awesome conversations and insights.  

There's Something Waiting In The Wings

Here's my teaser to all of you.

My bearded partner in crime and designer Daniel Agee and I are rolling up our sleeves and collaborating on a brand new project that is absolutely a passion project and one that blends our talents into one big ball of awesome. We're at the very beginning stages of planning it all out so there really aren't any details to share -- yet.  But they'll be coming soon.  And if you're keeping score, Daniel and I started collaborating (well, we talked about it) on a hair-brained idea I had back in December that never really got off the ground. Not every idea is a homerun, you know?  The Wandering Moleskine (we even have a logo and everything!) will launch one of these days, but now is just not that time.  

So Why Now?

If there's one thing that I've learned over the course of my career in all its turns, understanding what drives your passions outside of work and business makes you better at business. You can approach work with fresh eyes and a renewed sense of purpose and focus.  Projects that emerge from deep within are, for me, a meditation, a retreat, and a comfort when things "out there" get wonky.

I hope each of you reading this post find your passion project -- and that you'll share them in the comments below.  

What are your passion projects?  

Photo credit: The Passion Project, a student-run initiative at the University of British Columbia "seeking to make passion an integral part of everyone's lives". Check them out - they're doing some amazing work. 

I'm bored. 

I'm bored with the deluge of dreck that clogs my social streams and clogs my inbox. Endless blog posts about how to use this social tool or that. I've even written one or two of those in the past -- and there's an audience and need for those instructional hands-on kind of content.  My audience -- a small portion, anyhow -- finds value in the actionable and practical, the step-by-step and the product review that ultimates makes their marketing jobs easier. 

After 2.5 years of consistent blogging (averaging 3 posts per week with a recent commitment to publish five days per week) - and nearly all of those posts focused and professional in nature, the need to mix things up, recombine, and reinvent is much bigger than a mere pivot. It's about passion and my own drive to dig deeper into the cultural and organizational implications that participatory media formats like blogging, podcasting, and social networking sites of all stripes have thrust upon us. Writing those crunchy, dense and heavy-hitting articles? I'm going to do more of those. My focus and sanity depend on them. 

I still enjoy blogging, but I'm often left uninspired by the limitations of the form. Shorter attention spans and an always-on mentality has forced web writers to condense and truncate expression for clarity and attention. Gotta keep 'em on the page longer and activate some specific behavior, right?  This isn't an indictment of the platform, mind you. Growing a regular readership and standing out in a sea of others takes time and hard work. I'm glad that I've stuck it out and I'm proud with what I've accomplished through my social activity and writing over the years. 

But.

I miss the theory. I miss that mushy brain feeling that was my default in graduate school. I need to fall in love with my writing again and be challenged intellectually, both "out there" and right here on the blog.  The writers that inspire me and have shaped my thinking and worldview most significantly haven't been in this marketing game.  

I'm finally getting my voice and finally getting comfortable in my own skin with my own ideas.  It hasn't been a primrose path. No kittens and rainbows here. I'm my worst and most ruthless critic, tearing things apart. Creative destruction is quite liberating amidst the pain and disappointment, and I'm pushing away my demons to spend more time working on my fiction and my poetry.  

It's Shakespeare's birthday. As an undergraduate, I read a lot of Shakespeare -- and I still do. The Bard invented expressions that simply hadn't existed in English before him. He understood the complexities of the human psyche -- madness, love, depression, hedonism, self-destructive tendencies, pure rage and hatred -- and could speak to the intellectual and the low-brow with ease.  Want to have a little fun today? This Shakepearean Insult Generator will give you some hearty chuckles. Throw 'em into conversation. Trust me. 

I want my writing to do that. To drive someone to action, to take them on a journey of self-discovery and learning, to inspire real and meaningful change, to trigger an immediate emotional response, to draw out someone's curiosity. 

 It doesn't matter whether you are writing a newsletter, landing page, or some fresh website copy.  Take your reader somewhere. Make them think about what exists out there and take them along for the ride.  

That's my promise to you -- and to myself.  Beyond all else, I want you to think, to challenge, to investigate.

As a writer, I've only just gotten started. I'm just beginning to see the potential slowly stewing below the surface, the germ taking shape.  The hunger to make a difference is there, and my appetite for knowledge and understanding won't soon be satiated. It's what keeping me pounding these keys and nuking half-baked ideas to make room for the good ones.  

Your turn.  What makes a piece of writing stick in your brain, working itself deeper until you just have to do something with it? 

I love Mondays. Always have. 

While so many of my friends and colleagues feel panic and longing as another weekend fades into memory, I approach the start of a new week with different eyes. Sitting here on my porch (brr, it's a bit chilly here!) with my morning coffee with notes strewn about and the Wonderpup tucked in under (erm, on) my feet, I'm keen on observation. There's something about an hour of focused writing time that puts me in the right headspace to approach the day's work with vigor and enthusiasm. 

Last Friday, I had the privilege of speaking to a group of YMCA program directors as part of a day-long branding and marketing workshop. The experience reminded me just how much I missed teaching other professionals, and I'm very much looking forward to doing more of that through the rest of this year and beyond. As I was leading the discussion on content marketing strategies, a persistent question kept surfacing.  The participants were obviously anxious about generating valuable and timely content over the long haul.  It's certainly a valid question. Brands of all sizes are forever tempted by the allure of real-time marketing and the proliferation of "junkweb" content as they feel caught behind the eight ball of the content machine and continue to churn out crappy content to simply stay afloat and stay visible. 

Developing a content calendar  -- or at least, having an editorial mission -- is one of the most effective ways to ensure that all the content that you are creating and promoting does two things: reinforces brand promise and maps to specific goals and business objectives.  There are a number of excellent articles explaining how to actually build out a content calendar that tracks activity across months and years, but this one from Marketingland is especially good.  For the more digitally minded, Tracky is an excellent social collaboration and project management tool. The important thing to remember is that building a content calendar needn't be difficult, especially if you think about general content "buckets" rather day charting out each day's content. The reality is that you are already sitting on piles and piles of content - sales collateral, FAQs, press releases, cases studies, success stories. You get the idea.  Re-imagining existing digital and print assets? A perfect place to start developing content that is designed to pull prospects along and provide valuable information. Despite what you might hear otherwise, "engagement" isn't a strategy. Conversions are.  

One of my favorite sources for content ideas? The inbox. I try to keep my email pretty lean and mean, but Smartbrief delivers industry-relevant news several times per day right into my inbox.  And you are using Google Alerts or Talkwalker, right?  Whenever I have those moments of "what do I write about today?" -- and I do have them from time to time -- it doesn't take too long for a new idea to surface that's ready to develop into something more substantial and relevant.  Taking it a step further, I can look into my sent folders, looking for the last five or ten links that I forwarded to colleagues and partners.  If you start with what you're already sharing internally or with friends, the germ of a blog post is right there. It just needs a little watering to spring into something bigger. 

Oh - and one more thing. You gotta do the work. Creating "stuff" doesn't just happen when you snap your fingers. Roll up those sleeves, get dirty and enjoy the ride.  

Comments, as always, are yours.

Poetry Friday: Sharon Olds AP Photo/Jim Cole

The recipient of the 2013 Pulitzer Prize in Poetry, Sharon Olds remains one of the leading voices in contemporary poetry. Her poetry is known for being intensely personal (often written in 1st person), emotionally raw, and unflinchingly self-aware, often built out of intimate family details with her children, her parents, and her sex life. 

Born in San Francisco and raised in Berkley, Olds went on to attend Stanford University where she earned a B.A. in English, followed by a Ph.D. from Columbia in 1972.  Herfirst book of poems, Satan Says (1980), was published when she was 37.  Viewed in the tradition of Walt Whitman as a celebration of the body -- often in the midst of intense abuse by the world and family, the collection is brutally honest and gritty. Billy Collins has called her "a poet of sex and the psyche."  She might be infamous for her choice of subject matter, but her poetic voice is nimble, precise, and versatile. 

Olds has commented that she is most informed by the work of poets like Gwendolyn Brooks and Galway Kinnell, focusing on the work itself and not the audience.  The world is often turbulent and strange as the events of this past week have shown us, but her poetry reveals deeper truths beyond the violence and rawness by celebrating her own sexuality, a power stronger than political oppression and strife. 

Writing for the New York Times, Joel Brouwer noted that "Olds selects intense moments from her family romance -- usually ones involving violence or sexuality or both -- and then stretches them in opposite directions, rendering them in such obsessive detail that they seem utterly unique to her personal experience, while at the the same time using metaphor to insist upon their universality." 

Critics haven't always been kind to Olds, accusing her of being self-indulgent and even pornographic. The stark simplicity of her subject matter, combined with her direct plain-spoken language and use of free verse, sticks with you; yet everything returns to her -- her needs, her wants, her struggles. It's an uncomfortable tension that I've never fully resolved for myself in my own poetry -- drawing from personal experience while offering something bigger to readers.

In 2005,  then-First Lady Laura Bush invited Olds to the National Book Festival. Olds declined in an open letter published in the October 10, 2005 issue of The Nation. An excerpt:

You can read the letter in its entirety here.

Her most recent collection of poetry Stag's Leap details the collapse of her 30-year marriage and won the T.S. Eliot Prize For Poetry. 

She has won numerous awards for her work, including fellowships from the Guggenheim Foundation and the National Endowment of the Arts, the 1984 National Book Critics Circle Award and the first San Francisco Poetry Center Award in 1980.  Currently teaching in the graduate creative writing program at NYU, she was the New York State Poet from 1998 to 2000.

Source: Poetry (September 2011).

Riffing on Writing - Episode #33 - Marcy Massura

Let me start with this: Marcy Massura is hilarious. I'm not really sure when we first connected online, but we quickly became friends. We share an irreverent sense of humor, taking shots at each other and the world around us -- and that's a good thing. We've also bonded over pork during SxSW. True story. 

Don't believe me? Check out the video below to see exactly what I mean. 

She's also really smart and understands how influencer outreach works from the inside out. 

As the Director of Digital Engagement at Weber Shandwick, she leads influencer outreach and brand activations for some of the biggest consumer brands in the marketplace, but that's only part of the story.  After leaving a career in apparel to be a stay-at-home mom, she went blog to job: building an audience, working with brands, and now helping brands implement successful influencer events and activations.  

If you're a blogger who wants to work with brands, you'll enjoy this episode: media kits, the importance of being brand-friendly, and why contact forms might be the kiss of death. Meet Marcy. Just don't call her a mommy blogger -- or she'll cut you. (Her words, not mine)

Enjoying the show? Leave me your comments and feedback below, or head over to iTunes and leave a review there. Cheers!

Participatory media formats like social networks, blogging, and podcasting offer us an opportunity to become masters of our own domains, to carve out a niche, and grow an audience. Notice the emphasis on the individual? There are countless posts being pushed out on any given day stuffed with how-tos on audience growth and retention, building a personal brand, and presumed best practices about how to do this social media thing. I've written on some of those topics in the past, and I'll probably do so again. After all, I know my audience. 

This isn't going to be a post about any of those things.

No, this is going to be a post about what we do with our platforms, our activity, and our energy to make the world a better place because of what we do, not in spite of them. If you want to get right down to it, I'm a marketing writer and practitioner. The content pieces that I concept, produce, and distribute have a largely singular aim: to help people and businesses sell more stuff.  I enjoy what I do -- the creative process, unsnarling complex client problems, helping people find the stories worth telling -- as well as the hard and soft benefits of doing good work.  My creative work isn't changing the world or contributing to outstanding breakthroughs in science. 

If I applied the brand eulogy question to my business, I'm not certain what would be missed exactly.  

It's easy to get wrapped up in the attention. The excitement of blog comments, download numbers and the tally of likes and engagement stroke our egos and conflate our sense of importance. I've been seduced by them -- and nearly lost my way, my voice, and my own perspectives. The darker side of the attention economy? Maybe. I've been fortunate in forging some incredibly deep friendships via social media over the years, but there'sa specter that haunts those relationships. Intimacy. Really knowing someone and moving beyond the performative flourishes of social media.  

Social media projects a level of intimacy that is illusory, but it doesn't need to be that way. Maybe it's in the social contract that informs social media and digital culture -- you know, the one about setting expectations about intent and integrity. 

I don't pretend to have all these things figured out.  I don't think anyone really does, especially since digital culture is largely unexplored and misunderstood.  What I do know is that reminding myself of the why behind every action, every conversation, every post might be the way to escape the attention trap. 

What do you think?

As always, the comments are yours. 

It just didn't seem right to march onward as planned when a city that is home to so many memories from my childhood is reeling from an act of senseless violence.  I experienced my very first major league baseball game atop the Green Monster at Fenway Park when I was eight -- and I've been a lifelong Red Sox fan.  

My heart is heavy, my eyes red and swollen from tears spilled. I'm having a difficult time trying to make sense of what I'm feeling at this very moment -- and why. I feel afraid, angry, and set adrift. Getting back to work with the images of destruction and human pain still flashing through my brain isn't going to be easy, but I'm going to reflect on what real heroism looks like -- and there are so many examples of genuine human compassion emerging from the chaos of yesterday.  

Disbelief and anger spilled over on a day meant to celebrate the indefatigable spirit of humanity -- mind and body.  I don't know how to mourn because Boston is not my city and these are not my people. 

And yet here I sit, broken and silent. 

We need to perpetuate kindness and compassion in this world full of unknowns, uncertainties, and pain. I'm going to do my best to do just that, to be the change that I want to see in the world around me. The stories that will emerge over the coming days will test us and make us question what we believe and hold true, and I'm prepared to face that.  

To Boston.

The Accidental Entrepreneur

The start of my business began inauspiciously nearly six years ago. For a few years, it was a side project that suffered from a lack of vision and a strong sense of purpose. I was working fulltime at other places doing other things. I put in the time with business development, relationship-building, and those icky administrative tasks like quarterly taxes and chasing open invoices when the responsibilities of the day job(s) were handled.  

What I was doing -- copywriting, content development, and the occasional bit of journalism -- wasn't entrepreneurial.  Entrepreneurship and doing the hard work of building businesses was the job of someone else out there. 

Boy, was I wrong. 

I wish I could tell you that I started off on my own to change the industry or create some lasting legacy, but that would be a lie. I'm an accidental entrepreneur. Circumstance led me here. I voluntarily left the security of salaried, full-time employment -- I mean, really left it -- in 2009 when Jupiterimages was acquired by Getty Images. All my clients were yanked out from under me overnight. "Redundancies," they said. I made a choice to get out before conditions got too toxic. W-2s were replaced by 1099s. Lisa and I had to make some considerable adjustments to our way of life while I was figuring out how to build my business -- or what I was going to do next. 

I told myself that this was a temporary arrangement, a stop gap until I found the perfect role that met my expectations and married well with my skills. 

I've stopped telling myself that. The aesthetic changes I've made here on the site aren't just window dressing. They're an outward and visible reminder to myself that I do have a business, that I am an entrepreneur, even on the days when it doesn't feel that way at all.  

Business isn't simple.  

Oh - and you thought I forgot about announcing the winners of last week's contest, didn't you? Nope, the lucky recipients of the two free copies of Content Chemistry are:  Brad Marley and Kate Harner. Enjoy your books!