First things first:
I'm THRILLED to announce that the Creative Freedom Entrepreneur Types made their public debut this week over at Charlie Gilkey's Productive Flourishing blog. If you're a creative and you're not familiar with Charlie's work, I highly recommend checking him out.
My guest post is an excerpt from my book, detailing the 3 different types of creative entrepreneurs, along with the process I used to get clear on my target market (which is what started me on this research journey in the first place). Please take a moment to stop in and leave a comment or share the post. The more creatives that we can reach with this message, the better the world will be. I truly believe that.
Also, my accountability partner, Winnie, just posted my interview for her podcast, where we dive into the nature of assessments in general, and why self-awareness is a powerful tool in building your business. The Let's Talk Tech Show takes the mystery out of all the tech-y tools, platforms, apps, and software that solo-preneurs deal with as they grow their business. If you're a Chaotic creative - or otherwise feel overwhelmed by the tech stuff, Winnie's show is a great place to get some basic understanding in plain English.
Okay, on to this week's episode...
I've known Mike Michalowicz for years now. First as a fan of his work, then as a member of his book launch team, then as an editor of his last book, and one of the first certified Profit First business coaches in the world. Now, I think it's safe to say we're friends. And he's an interesting dude. Like me, he's a guinea pig for all the methods he teaches. As a Linear Cusp creative, he's great at creating and implementing systems, but he's got just enough Fusion in him to make it fun and easy to learn what he teaches. Mike's new book, "Surge: Time the Marketplace, Ride the Wave of Consumer Demand, and Become Your Industry's Big Kahuna," is the next installment of his guinea pig adventures. Using surfing as his framework, SURGE is actually an acronym for the steps you need to take to find and ride your own wave of business success.
Does it work? Watch the episode, then read on:
If you read the book, you'll see plenty of case studies supporting Mike's process - including examples from his own business. As I mentioned in the video, I was a smidge disappointed about the lack of specifics around the "cool kids" strategy, until I realized I did it myself, without really trying.
I've been doing the research on the Creative Freedom Entrepreneur Type spectrum for about 18 months. Interviewing creatives from around the world, analyzing the data, and testing theories. Back in April, Charlie posted on Facebook saying he didn't resonate with particular a social media platforms. I said that it made perfect sense to me because his creative entrepreneur type wasn't a good fit for those platforms. That got him (and a few others) curious, so I explained a little about the research I was doing. Charlie was intrigued enough to have an email convo with me that led to this week's guest post on his blog (and with a little luck, an interview on his podcast later this year).
Luck is where preparation meets opportunity - which typically looks like work! (Tweet this)
Charlie has a solid track record in the realm of creative entrepreneurship. He's one of the "cool kids" in the marketplace. But I had no idea how to get on his radar until HE said something where I had an opening.
There are a couple of things that you need to understand:
This was an organic way to "reach the cool kids" - and it worked. Will it continue to work? Well, I have a few more "cool kids" to check out before I can let you know!
One of my favorite shows on PBS is "Finding Your Roots" hosted by Henry Louis Gates, Jr. It's always fun to learn about the ancestors and personal histories of some of the most well-known people of our time. I really enjoy getting to know how these people came to be who they are through the stories of their ancestors.
I believe that who we are is largely colored by the choices we make, and that includes the choices of our ancestors, since without some of the choices they made, we might not be alive today. Those immigrants, tireless workers, and visionary family members made a way for us in the world. It's important that we recognize and honor that part of them that lives on in us.
So when Nely Galan asked me to be part of her book launch team, how could I refuse? Nely is a Cuban-born immigrant who made a name for herself as the first Latina president of a U.S. television network. Her book, Self Made: Becoming empowered, self-reliant, and rich in every way is now a New York Times best-seller, and in it, she shares not only the story of her success, but also the stories of dozens of other women who are creating their own way through the power of entrepreneurship.
This week's episode is a new segment I'm trying out this season - book reviews. I read a LOT, so it seemed fitting to share some of what I'm reading in a meaningful way (and save you a headache or two if the book is a bomb). I'm sharing the highlights and lowlights of Nely's new book, along with some childhood photos, of every stage, including the time when do babies talk properly (and yes, a baby picture, too).
In short, Self Made is an excuse-buster of a book. Nely gives you every angle on how to carve out a space for yourself as an entrepreneur, using case studies from other entrepreneurs who are doing it themselves. She even includes a fun story about Jeremy Renner (#TeamCap). If you'd like to win a copy of Self Made, just answer one of these questions in the comments:
I'll compile all the comments from Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, and my blog, and randomly select one winner, who will be notified via email.
After a LONG hiatus (longer than I wanted, truth be told, but whatever.), Creative Freedom is BACK!
Sound the trumpets, yo. This is a BIG deal for me.
As you'll see in today's episode, we've made some changes. Why? Because I have been changing. My life looks radically different than it did a couple of years ago, when Creative Freedom was only a glimmer in my eye.
I knew what I wanted to do, and I knew it would take time to make it happen. The only thing I wasn't sure of is whether or not I could actually pull it off... and if I did pull it off, I didn't know if I wanted to keep doing it.
Then, in the middle of all my planning and creating - to misquote John Lennon - life happened.
There's more to life and work than "the hustle." (Tweet This)
It took most of the last 12 months just to re-group and care for what was going on around me. And when I was ready to come out of my cocoon, it became more apparent than ever that Creative Freedom is not just a fun title for the show, it's the life I want to champion for other creative entrepreneurs.
How did I get there? Today's episode will give you some clarity around the three things I had to do in order to pull myself together and get my Noble Empire back on track.
I reached out to the members of my Accountability Club to share their genius on this topic as well:
How are you honoring the cycles of your creative life and Great Work? Share your thoughts and ideas in the comments and be part of our Rising Tide.
"You can't win if you don't play."
Mom used this sentence to justify a lot of behavior when I was a kid: learning to ride a bike, auditioning for plays, joining the cross country team (I took 11th place in the city meet). And yes, mom played the lottery. She had a winning streak where, with a little help from technology and lottery dream books, she won several days each week for a few weeks. Naturally, those words rang through my head every time I was faced with a risk-reward decision.
Until this week.
If you follow me on Facebook or Twitter, you may have already heard about how I found this lottery ticket on the ground while I was on a field trip with my kid. I thought it was trash (LITTERBUGS! ARGH!), so I picked it up to throw away when we got to the car.
But when I saw it was a lottery ticket, I figured I'd check the numbers when I got home, just in case.
I won the BIG money, honey! TWO WHOLE DOLLARS! WOO HOO!!
Every morning, I sit down to do The PEACE System (a process I created to help clear my head and prioritize my day). Because field trips can be stressful - particularly with a special needs kid - I made a point of setting the intention to look for miracles.
Frankly, a well-behaved child would have qualified as a miracle in my book. I certainly wasn't expecting free money to fall at my feet. But hey, I'll take it!
I asked for (and was looking for) a miracle, and I got it. And the kid behaved, too!
You've probably heard stories about people who say "I won the lottery and it changed my life." Never did I think I'd be one of those people, since I don't play the lottery.
But winning those two bucks most certainly changed my life. If you want to test out your luck as well, you can go to sites like 바카라 사이트, for example.
"You can't play if you don't win" is a double-edged sword. In a way, I did "play" because I picked up the ticket and cashed it in. But in a way I didn't play, because I didn't actually buy the ticket. It wasn't even given to me (in the traditional sense). And the person that dropped the ticket probably thought it was a "loser" because they played $10 and "only" won $2. They lost money on the deal.
But from my perspective, I was $2 richer!
The last 18 months have been arduous and hard for me on a lot of fronts. At some point, I probably faced down some depression, though I was never clinically diagnosed. I've done a LOT of questioning my worth, my value, and why I'm really on this planet in the first place.
Two dollars won't even buy me a soda at my local restaurant, let alone pay my rent, but it was a sign. A clear sign that miracles are there if we are looking for them. I know that sounds kind of mystical and metaphysical, but it's true. I found that money because I was looking for it.
Well, I was looking for a miracle, and I chose to see this "win" as a miracle.
You have to have your eyes open and show up.
You have to be willing to go for what matters to you - even if it seems unreasonable. Even if it seems impossible. If it's in your heart to have it, you have to be courageous enough to show up for it. And keep showing up consistently.
In that respect, Mom was right: you can't win if you don't play.
But she was also wrong. I won without playing "the game" (by society's rules, at least). That little lottery ticket opened a Pandora's box of questions about the "teaching" that's been passed down through my family for generations. The "lessons" and "stories" that, in a previous era, had to be true for survival no longer serve the person I'm becoming in this era of creative entrepreneurship.
In the past, if you didn't "play by the rules", you wouldn't be taken seriously, and you probably wouldn't even get a foot in the door, let alone win. There were gatekeepers, expectations, and unwritten "rules" that were foisted on you by your industry, society and "the world". These rules were designed to keep certain people out, and to protect the survival of others. You had to play their way, or you simply couldn't play.
Now, you have a lot more latitude to define success on your own terms and not just survive, but thrive. You can create your own career, doing what you love, and make good money doing it - without selling your soul. That's the entire premise of how I help my clients!
Those old stories that once served to protect, inspire, and motivate me, had been holding me back from the life and career I was meant to have. I couldn't see that until I won the lottery.
What thoughts, beliefs, and stories do you hold as true, that might actually be limiting your success without you even realizing it? Untangling those beliefs and thought patterns can be tough, but the rewards far outweigh the risks.
But here's the other thing that rattled my brain. I won $2. Winning anything was contingent upon someone else. Somebody else played the game, bought the ticket, left it on the ground. At least three other people walked right past the ticket before I picked it up. In short, I had no control over the outcome. All I could do was be in the right place at the time of the miracle.
Miracles are awesome, and they can feel magical. But they are, in many ways, unpredictable - even if you're looking for them. You don't know when they'll arrive, or in what form, and sometimes it's hard to know if it even is a miracle until well after the fact. Sometimes the worst thing that ever happened to you is actually a blessing in disguise... a miracle you won't see until years later.
In life, we can wait for others to open doors for us, or we can make a plan and get sh*t done. (Tweet This)
Waiting around for miracles is the snail's path to success. Can it happen? Sure! I just won the lottery, for crying out loud! But, I only won $2, because that's all the ticket was worth. Someone else got to dictate the terms of my success. I could only win what they played and paid for.
I don't want someone else to dictate how successful I can be. I don't want someone else to have that much influence over my success journey. I mean, I won't turn away blessings when they show up - even the $2 variety - and I'm not going out of my way to play the lottery, either.
I know I can't control everything - and some might say that control, like safety, is an illusion. But if I set an intention and follow it with consistent action, I'm going to move the ball further down the field more often than the guy standing around, waiting for a winning lottery ticket to fall at his feet.
Will there be setbacks? Most likely. As we all know, the so-called "overnight success" stories usually involve a lot more preparation and hardship than we realize. As Thomas Edison famously said, "opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work."
I'm no stranger to hard work, although I'd like to be. 🙂
There were other gems of discovery that I'm still unpacking, and I'm sure you could tease out a few lessons of your own from this story, but ultimately, while I welcome all the miracles and blessings coming my way, I'm not going to sit on the sidelines and wait for them. I'm going to keep showing up, sharing my Great Work, and defining success on my terms. Not my mom's terms, or the terms of my ancestors, or even the terms of my fans and clients.
My game is the only game that matters for me. It's a game I'm happy to play, and one I can't lose, because I make the rules.
[Note: This is an excerpt from my forthcoming book, Creative Freedom. If you'd like to be part of the advance team and get more sneak peeks of the book, contact me for more info.]
There's a quote often attributed to John Lennon:
"Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end."
Dreams are kind of like that. It sounds trite, I know, but the reality is that if something really matters to you, there are really only two things that will prevent you from pursuing it in some way:
1. Death (in which case, you're no longer dreaming).
2. Something else that matters more (in which case, it's no longer your dream).
Death is fairly self-explanatory, so we'll leave that here and explore option two.
When I was a kid, I fancied myself as the next Madonna or Paula Abdul. I was a pretty good singer, and I spent countless hours practicing dance routines for the world tour I imagined I would lead once I became a rock star. I studied music at college, got a degree, and even moved west in pursuit of that dream.
Then life happened: single motherhood, relocation, marriage, second kid, etc.
For years, while my dreams of professional achievement languished, I put my focus, energy, and money into being a wife and mom. That was my priority. I made it so. I chose that life over pursuing my dream.
There are all kinds of "reasons" I could give as to why I made that choice. Here are a few:
Ultimately, I let guilt, shame, and fear dictate my priorities. Choosing to be seen in a certain light (by my family, friends, and children) were more important to me than pursuing my dreams.
So I didn't.
For more than a decade, my dreams sat in a metaphorical box on a shelf in the attic of my soul. I didn't touch my musical instruments (I owned seven). I didn't even play the radio much. Music was all but absent in my life, with one exception: community theater.
I was somewhat of a fixture at the local theater. Ted, the Artistic Director, knew I was talented and a hard worker, so I was practically guaranteed a role every season. Usually not the lead, but something that allowed me to be in the spotlight, share my gifts, and get me out of the house a few nights a week during the run of the show.
That was my "fix" and, for a while, it worked. I was happy to contribute and be part of something that gave me a small glimpse into the life I wasn't ambitious enough to pursue because of other "reasons".
A friend and I had approached Ted about doing a holiday musical revue. He loved the idea. As we began rehearsals, Ted told me that ours would be the last show produced at the theater. After 15 years, he was closing his doors.
At first, it didn't register how much I depended on Ted and this rag-tag bunch of musical misfits. We all had "other lives" that kept us busy - teachers, lawyers, service workers, college students - but on Ted's stage we were all equals. We were all craftsmen.
We were family - and Ted was breaking up the band, so to speak.
I didn't realize, until recently, how important that creative outlet was for me. It was my primary source of adult conversation and a safe space to practice my art. It was also a happy-medium for a married mom of two with responsibilities and "reasons" that kept me from pursuing my dream.
And then it was gone.
I briefly toyed with the notion of taking over the theater, but my life and financial situation at the time just couldn't swing it. That's when everything in my life started to unravel. My kid ran away and ended up in jail, we filed bankruptcy, I lost my car, my home, and I hit the skids - quite literally.
I was driving my husband's car on the freeway. As I started to change lanes, it spun out of control. I threw my hands into the air as the car swished and fishtailed across three lanes, landing in the ditch, facing oncoming traffic. I looked up just in time to feel the rush of wind as an 18-wheeler sped past.
Somehow, I was still alive. Unscathed. Awake. The car had stalled out, but was otherwise fine. A Freudian moment.
I reasoned with myself that I should probably be dead. The only reason I survived was because, as Lennon put it, it's not the end.
So why I was still alive? What was this wake-up call all about?
God talks to me in the voice of James Earl Jones - very deep, precise, and clear. Each morning for a few weeks, I posed the "why am I still alive?" question during my sacred practice. One day the notion to spend a year working on a new album crossed my mind. That thought led to doing 100 songs - just 2 songs a week. That's when Darth Vader boomed in.
"300 songs!"
I've learned not to argue when my inner Darth starts talking. So I started on the journey that has now become my 300 songs project.
Jim Rohn famously said "Become a millionaire not for the million dollars, but for what it will make of you to achieve it." About 100 songs into the project, it became clear that it was less about the number of songs, and more about who I was becoming in the process of making them.
I was unpacking my dusty box of dreams, recalling the value of these old treasures - some of which still had meaning for me, others from which I was finally ready to move on. I pulled out those old songs, those dance routines, and I had to decide what my dream really was.
See, your dream is relentless. It persists even when you don't want it to. You almost can't let it go because it keeps coming back to haunt you. Fantasies, on the other hand, are something that you can plow a lot of time, energy, and money into, but at the end of the day, you feel a relief to let it go.
Dancing was like that for me. I still love to dance, but I'm almost 100 pounds heavier than I was when I dreamed of being the next Paula Abdul. While I'm working on getting into better shape, the thought of re-conditioning my body to the level of a professional dancer feels like a punishment worse than death!
When I gave up on the dream of becoming a dancer, I felt unimaginable relief. Can I still dance? SURE, but on my terms - without the pressure of maintaining a dancer's body.
Becoming the next Paula Abdul or Madonna was my fantasy, entertaining and inspiring people is my dream.
In fact, I can't imagine my life without a spotlight and inspiration in some way, but if I could never dance again, I don't think I'd cry too much about it. As a kid, I believed that's what I should do, if I wanted to be famous. I should learn to sing, act, dance, and play an instrument - and be good at all of them. That way, I've got a much better chance at "stardom".
But as I unpack this box of dreams as an adult, it isn't about the "shoulds" of the world around me. I'm older now, and while I still care what people think of me, it matters far less than it did a decade ago when my roles defined me.
Those priorities don't matter like they used to. I stopped defining myself by what I couldn't have and began to shift my focus to what I really wanted - what truly mattered to me.
And that's the point. When something else - even fear - matters more than honoring the Divine call of your dream, you'll try to ignore it. But if it really matters to you, it will not remain silent. It will fight to be heard. It will wake you from your anesthetized way of living. It will violently shake you - with the force of an 18-wheeler - until you make a choice.
Then you will find a way to pursue it - in stolen moments while the kids are at school, or while waiting on hold with the power company. You'll get up early, stay up late, and make any excuse you can to take even the smallest step toward realizing your dream.
Or you will choose to let it go. No longer a priority. No longer the dream it once was. In which case, it's not your dream anymore, so it no longer needs pursuing.
Mourning the loss of a dream, or letting it go joyfully (your choice) is not uncommon. Kids do it every day, with much less drama and heartache. They find something new that captures their imagination, and they pursue it until it's not worth pursuing anymore. Everything they pick up and put down acts like a filter, helping them draw closer and closer to what it is that really matters to them.
For me, dance and drama led me to refine my skills as a storyteller, a performer, and to be more comfortable in my skin - critical skills that make me a better musician, author, and coach. For a time, I thought dancing was part of my dream. Dancing wasn't my dream, but it pointed the way.
Will your dreams always manifest the way you envisioned? Not likely. But that won't deter you if it's really your dream. Many are the stories of elderly men and women who found success with their dreams much later in life. Who cares how long it takes? The pursuit is part of the work of building the dream in the first place.
And should there come a time when other choices, other goals, other priorities truly do matter more than your dusty old dream, then pack it away for a time, pass it on, or simply let it go.
In the end, whatever you choose will be okay. And if it's not okay...
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Feeling stuck and unsure of your direction? I am honored to be co-hosting a webinar on May 12 with Tajci Cameron that might help. Tajci's a former Croatian pop star who left it all to try her hand at the American Dream, only to get stuck herself. Join us as we explore the steps she took to awaken to joy and purpose in her life and break the cycle of pain and fear that was holding her back. Click here to meet Tajci and register for this special event!
You may have heard the story about Walter Matthau. An aspiring actor approached him at some function and said that he was looking for that one big break. Matthau, in his caring, yet cynical style, says , "Kid, it's not the one big break, it's the fifty."
Overnight success rarely is, and most creatives that have been toiling for years can attest to that. But there comes a time for most when the heat is on - from well-meaning family and friends - to think hard about doing something else. I'm sure you've probably heard one of these famous quotes before:
Mom spoke those well-meaning, heart-crushing words when I told her I wanted to be a professional musician. I think the words I actually used were "rock star", which may have prompted her advice. After all, being a rock star in the 90's wasn't as easy as it is today. You actually had to have talent and compete for a record deal with a major label in order to see real financial success.
Back then, during the "golden age" of music, who could have anticipated the collapse of the industry, the shift from physical to digital media, and the rise of the "Internet Star"? Heck, I recorded my first album just over 10 years ago, when social media was still a glimmer on the horizon.
Today, all you need is the Internet, a webcam, and a dream, and stardom is yours, right?
Not exactly.
See it's not about the big break, it's about the fifty. I might even go so far as to say it's not even about the fifty, but the hundreds, if not thousands of little breaks that happen almost every day.
Showing up every day to script and film your show, create your art, teach your audience, reach YOUR right people. Even if there are only five people in the room... even if no one shows up for your workshop.
When I decided to start teaching online classes, I didn't have a large list. Like everyone else, I started at zero. I remember when I got my first seven subscribers and I didn't know ANY of them! I felt like a rock star in that moment, for sure. Here were seven strangers who had signed up for my newsletter and wanted to learn what I was teaching.
I felt like I arrived. Over time, my list grew, and then came the day I posted my first event announcement and sign up form for a teleclass I was teaching. Three people signed up, and I was thrilled! I didn't have a big list - probably less than a hundred, but here I was leading my first workshop for three lucky people!
No one showed up on the line.
At this point, I had a few choices. I could cancel, reschedule the call for a better day and time, or just record the thing and share the recording.
I figured it was good practice, so why not just go ahead and record the thing? If anyone showed up late, they'd be able to ask questions to get caught up.
No one showed, but I recorded that class. And it was a good thing, too, because once I shared the audio, people listened, commented and shared. That led to more classes and a growing audience for my business.
Six years later, I got a call from someone who found that old recording online and hired me to speak at her event.
You just never know which one break will lead to the next. I guess you could say every break is a big break in waiting.
Creativity is about sharing your truth with the world. It's not about the medium, it's not even about the message. It's about being willing to be vulnerable enough to share yourself and let the world inside your brain for a minute or three... no matter how long it takes.
Steven Pressfield authored The Legend of Bagger Vance over the course of a few months. It was sold to a publisher three weeks later and optioned for a movie about a month after that.
He was 51.
He wrote his first novel when he was 24. That in-between time was all about the little breaks, as Pressfield writes:
"It wasn't all wilderness. Within those twenty-seven years, I earned a living for at least a dozen as a professional writer. I worked in advertising. I had a career as a screenwriter. And I spent six years writing unpublishable novels (which counts as work, too)."
Which brings me to that other iconic phrase:
It's often something we hear when someone isn't up to the task of their dream. A guy who wants to be a singer, but can't carry a tune in a bucket. A gal who dreams of being a dancer, but has two left feet. A kid with rotten comedic timing, who desires more than anything to have a spot on Saturday Night Live.
"Don't quit your day job" has been equated with failure.
I say it's time to reclaim the phrase. There's nothing wrong with a “day job” - if you're clear on your priorities and pursuits. Having a financial cushion will help you live more confidently and BE more confidently. It's easier to be your creative self when you're not afraid of how you'll get by if your Great Work isn't paying the bills.
They day job can a double-edged sword, to be sure. When I was jobless, I had plenty of time to create, but I also put an inordinate amount of pressure on myself to make my Great Work pay because I had kids, bills, and lifecrap that needed financial support or it would all fall apart.
With so much riding on everything you produce, you can imagine how much perfectionism and comparisonits can set in – two traits common in us Fusion-type creatives. I looked to “formulas”, “blueprints” and any other “surefire” approach that would help me generate an income. Trying to scrape by without the financial means that a day job could provide held me back for many years. I didn't say, do, or act on what I knew to be true, but followed the herd instead. My results were mediocre, at best.
When I let go of that fear, and gave myself permission to earn my living in the way that worked for me (and took the pressure of my Great Work) things shifted. I let go of the “shame” and “stigma” that most creatives ascribe to having a day job. As a result, I was able to be more creative AND make more money doing what I loved.
Funny how that happens.
Elizabeth Glibert, in her book “Big Magic,” confessed that she held down a job until well after “Eat Pray Love” made oodles of cash (she had written several earlier books). She never wanted to pressure her art into being the source of her survival.
Letting go of fear doesn't mean being “fearless”. Far from it. Letting go of fear means being willing to experience fear and not let it stop you.
I don't mean the "feel the fear and do it anyway" tripe that people like to profess. THAT is easy to say and hard to do. What I mean is being willing to own your fear and find ways to navigate it - support groups, or taking even smaller steps than you think you "should" be taking.
Like Confucius said "It doesn't matter how slowly you go, as long as you do not stop."
That's what I mean. It's not about jumping head first into the thing that scares the pants off you. It's not about speed to market. It's about doing what you can, as you are able, and just not quitting until you're done.
Instead of giving up entirely, and resigning our creative selves to life under the thumb of "The Man," let's take a page from the likes of Pressfield and Gilbert - who both held down other jobs while they relentlessly pursued their creative work.
Recognize your "day job" as your biggest sponsor, your Sugar Daddy, your benefactor - the one who keeps you clothed and fed so you can hone your craft.
And keep showing up for your Great Work, too. It might take you a dozen years, or three decades, or more. But does it really matter if you're doing what you love?
Someone asked me if there ever comes a time to quit. I'll save my full answer for another day, but here's the spoiler:
Don't quit your day job, and don't quit your dream. That next little break could be your big one.
Have you ever watched Cake Boss? They make some pretty amazing cakes, and my youngest has recently become fascinated with every cooking show on Netflix he can find, including that one.
I'm no Cake Boss, but I love my kids.
So when it comes to birthdays, I do my best to give my kids the cake they most want. Sometimes, when it's clearly beyond my skill, I get help:
My friend has mad cake skills, and she once made my youngest this fun Angry Birds cake. The grass alone would have put me in the loony bin.
But this year, my youngest wanted a lego cake - which he, of course, designed using legos:
At first blush, it looked simple enough for me to tackle. Four "bricks" layered on and around one larger "brick" in a quasi "L" shape (because "Liam" starts with "L" after all). I used graph paper. I measured. I planned, and I baked the hell outta this cake. I bought three cake mixes and two cans of frosting, just to be sure I had enough of everything, in case I screwed up and had to do it again. I even started making the cake two days before his birthday - JUST to be sure.
A half sheet cake and 2 dozen miniature muffins later, I thought I had this in the bag.
Until I didn't.
Making the cake part was easy. Mix and bake. Cutting the cake into bricks went pretty smoothly, too. I froze the whole lot to make sure of it. I remembered the LAST time I made a lego cake, and how I thought it would be easy, but it didn't quite turn out according to plan:
So this time, I took it out of the pan, froze it, and that made it SO much easier to level and frost.
But then there were those blasted studs. The lego cake two years ago was a pain to frost between the studs... and this time the studs would be smaller!
I figured that mini muffins would work well, since the last time we used regular cupcakes. But the minis were too wide, and I couldn't get six of them on the bottom layer.
Then I had this seemingly brilliant idea - I have a small petit-four cutter that I could use to cut the cupcakes into perfectly shaped studs!
Hooray!
Except the cake was so light and fluffy that they kept falling apart.
Crap.
So then I had another seemingly brilliant idea - what if I dipped the cake studs in chocolate? That should firm them up, yes?
No.
Even frozen, the fluffy tubes of cake kept spinning on the dipping stick. So I just plunged one into the chocolate, and it disintegrated in the warm puddle of chocolatey goo.
Double Crap.
I looked for suggestions on how to frost the studs on a lego cake... and got all kinds of explanations telling me I was doing it wrong.
People were using brownies, peanut butter cups - pretty much everything except cake.
And all I had were these crumbling pieces of cake. I had to make ten studs, and I'd already lost seven of my mini cupcakes. I was starting to panic.
Okay, I was, in fact, getting angry. So angry, that I scraped up all the chocolatey cake glop and poured it out onto wax paper, trying to figure out what the bleep I was going to do. I grabbed the wounded cupcake remains - shot clean through by the cutter - and started squishing and squeezing them, generally being pissed off at the world.
The chocolate and cake started to form this dough-like substance. I'm told this is something like how cake balls are made.
So I took my doughy-chocolate-cake-ball glop, packed it down into the petit-four mold, then I stuck it in the freezer for a minute or three.
Voila! A perfectly hard chunk of cake-stuff that wasn't going to be a beeotch to frost! Now I could proceed with the crumb coat!
I frosted and froze each layer independently, then assembled everything once the crumb coat was on. I'd like to say that was my first mistake, but if you've read this far, you know better. I really should have frosted each layer separately and then assembled the darn thing after all the frosting was completed. But since I'm not a cake boss, and I was building this whole thing from a lego design, I, of course, built it the same way my kid built the original plan.
Only problem is, cakes don't interlock the way legos do.
When we cut into it today, we'll have to avoid the mine field of wooden skewers and toothpicks that are deftly holding this creation in an upright and locked position.
But it's assembled. I even managed to frost it (in multiple colors) without killing myself. Although I ended up sending the husband out for another tub of frosting because I didn't have enough to put on the final white coat or finish the blue layer.
I managed to finish last night, just in time for him to see it before he went to school this morning.
Here's the finished product:
It leans a little The layers aren't perfect. If you look really closely, there are a couple of spots behind the blue studs where the white crumb coat still shows because I couldn't get in there to frost it without screwing up the green. On the other side, there's a small gap between the yellow and white frosted layers. And the size of the studs make it look more like a set of Duplo blocks than Legos, but you know what? My kid thinks it's fantastic, so I am completely happy with it.
"Exactly 10 studs showing, Mom! Nice job. And you used strong brick connections, just like a real Lego build!"
Dude. I just followed your design. I changed the colors a bit (I was NOT making grey frosting. Ick.), but other than that, this is your design, kid.
And that's the reality of being a mom - it's not about me. Sure, I want it to be perfect and measure up to the original idea, but my definition of perfect and his are entirely different. Maybe his bar is set too low, but maybe mine is set too high - on a lot of things.
So, too, is this the journey of every creative entrepreneur. We get an idea, and even the best laid plans don't always mean our project will turn out perfectly... far from it, usually. You can plow a lot of money into hiring a great team to support a project and still get lousy results (like Langley's government-backed team of experts trying to get an airplane off the ground). You might even run out of frosting - er, I mean, resources - mid way through the project. But still you plow through.
So if it's not about money, or planning, or even a great idea, what is it really about?
Oh, I know it sounds all cliche and Pollyanna, but the reality is that love - not passion - is what keeps you going on projects like this. I have no passion for making cakes, but I love my kid. You love your fans, and you're creating for them. You love the act of creating, so you're creating for you. And the problems that come up along the way are just the hurdles you have to navigate - they're part of the journey. Never once while I was making this cake did I threaten to quit. I did threaten to throw the cake across the room and start over a couple of times with those blasted studs, but I wasn't about to quit.
Why?
Because my kid matters. Because bringing him joy matters. Because bringing his creation to life matters to me. Showing him you can take an idea and make it a reality is important to me. It's a lesson I want him to learn now, while he's young, so that he can take it with him into the world when he becomes a creative entrepreneur in his own right.
Because the sooner you learn that it's never about you (and yet, it's all about you), the sooner you realize that all the external measures of success don't mean squat. It's only ever been about your fans, and deepening your connection with them. It's only ever been about finding your joy and sharing that joy with the world.
Those studs are the best part of the cake, in my opinion. Because that's where my heart and soul are. That's the part I had to figure out. That's the part that challenged me and gave me an opportunity to grow - not just as a cake maker (God help me), but as a human being. Those studs challenged me to not give up, to keep trying, to figure it out.
I never would have tried so hard if it were just about me. This was for my kid. My fan. So I doubled down. And in the process, I got a tremendous benefit: I learned. I persevered. I created.
Every creative endeavor meets this moment of challenge: do you give up, or keep trying? Do you listen to everyone around you that says your way is wrong ("Use peanut butter cups!" "Use brownies!"), or do you keep trying to figure out the way that will work for you ("But all I have is cake, frosting, and chocolate chips. Hmm, I wonder...")?
Maybe it will work, maybe it won't, and maybe you'll throw it out and start over. But one things for certain: you won't quit until you figure it out. And maybe, just maybe, if you're like most creatives, you'll come up with some clever new way of doing/being/experiencing the world that will inspire your fans and deepen that connection in a way that makes them love you even more.
Isn't that what it means to be a creative anyway?
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If you're looking for a community of creatives that are encouraging each other to step up and keep figuring out the way that will work for who you are, join us in the Accountability Club. Every month we take specific action on goals that moves us closer to our dreams. Only a few spots remain and when they're gone, you'll have to get on the wait list.
Some dreams take a lifetime to come true... especially if you do it all by yourself.
Jim Bishop's dream started when he was 15. For some inexplicable reaason, he found himself drawn to the mountains just above his home in Pueblo, Colorado. One day he found himself staring at a for sale sign on a plot about 2 acres in size.
He had to have it.
He scrimped and saved all summer doing odd jobs and working in his father's ornamental iron shop. He was too young to buy the property himself, so he asked his parents to take his money and buy the land. He spent many summers with his dad on that property. As an adult, he eventually decided to build a stone cottage, using the resources all around him. He cut and milled his own lumber, placed and cemented stones from the property, and as he continued to build, people started asking if he was building a castle.
That gave him the idea to actually build a castle.
No architect's plans... just a vision for one room that grew into two, then more. Then a second level... and turrets... and spires. What started as a stone cottage in his 20's has turned into this glorious castle, which has taken his entire lifetime to build.
What this video fails to tell you is that the ONE man who built this castle, did so by hand over the course of decades. Some people offered to help, but like so many well-meaning people, the help never materialized.
#frustrating
Undaunted, Jim kept plugging away as he was able - on his own - one stone at a time. Jim has touched each stone an average of 6 times as he sized, placed and cemented them during construction. You wouldn't know looking at it that Jim is afraid of heights, would you? The fact that he placed each stone one at a time meant a gradual ascension, which gave him time to get used to the height as he built each layer of stone upon stone.
All these years later, and through the generous donations of recycled and reclaimed materials, there's now a bevy of castle features - including a ballroom, a portcullis and bridge at the entrance, and an ornamental dragon Jim fashioned out of recycled stainless steel and a canister from a hot air balloon.
Bishop Castle is open to the public year round, free of charge (Jim and his wife still live there).
Don't let anyone tell you that you can't build your dreams. You can do it. Even if you have to do it all by yourself, one stone at a time. It may take longer, but if Jim Bishop's work is any indication, you might surprise yourself at just how high you can go - and it will be all the more fantastic when it's complete.
Oh, and yes, the dragon breathes fire, too.
Hello dear one!
I have never been a big comic book fan. When I was a kid, I wanted to read "real" books. "serious" books. So comics were not part of the equation. Plus, I have an addictive personality, so that would be one more thing on which to spend money I didn't have.
So this whole resurgence of comic book films has been fun for me - to explore the heroic stories of these legendary heroes (many of which I wasn't remotely familiar with before the films). I'm one of those people comic book purists probably hate: I didn't read the books before I watched the movies.
Oh well.
Before this resurgence, the closest I could identify to a superhero was Wonder Woman - you know, the Lynda Carter version (again, never read the books, y'all!). She was something for my pre-teen, 80's self to look up to. But as an adult, I felt more drawn to action heroes like MacGyver, Jason Bourne, and the like.
Then came Captain America.
I admit, if it hadn't starred Chris Evans, I probably wouldn't have thought twice, but he seems like one of those really nice guys in Hollywood, so I went to check it out.
It just gave me another reason to love Evans. It also gave me a new hero.
One that reminded me of you.
In the movie, Steve starts out as this gangly little weakling of a kid (oh, and did I mention, he's an artist, too?). Through the miracle of "modern" science, he becomes Captain America.
But the core of Steve - that which made Captain America - was there from the beginning.
I was working on Pinterest lately, crafting a branding board for a client project, and came across a pin of this painting:
Here's little Steve, with all his heart, hustle, and commitment to the cause - regardless of his size or stature. He knows the person he's capable of becoming, even if the rest of the world doesn't see it yet.
Then, there's Captain America. He TOWERS over little Steve, yet, he's the same guy. The same heart. The same hustle. The same commitment to his cause, his beliefs, and what really matters in his world.
They are the same, even if the world doesn't always see it that way.
But that is how I see you.
I see you when you show up in your "small" self, just wanting to bust out. Ready to jump on your metaphorical "grenade" to save the lives of the people that matter most to you. I see you striving to be as big and strong as you know how to be. I see your "Captain America-ness" trying to burst out of you.
I see your potential - in all the various ways it can manifest: strong leader, successful business owner, deeply spiritual human, loving spouse and parent. I see your struggle for balance, your desire to win - but win something with meaning. To have a meaningful life, a beautiful living doing what you love in ways that inspire the world.
THAT is how I see you.
You don't need some crazy serum concocted by a mad scientist to get to where you want to be. That's just the window dressing that makes it easier for the world to appreciate who you already are. Steve was Captain America all along. The world just didn't know it yet.
I've seen it. I see it every day. I've lived it. I've had to look my own potential in the eye every day. Sometimes I see Steve. Other days, I'm clearly my own Captain America.
But it's all there, all the time. I know it, because I've lived it.
And I see it so clearly in you.
Thank you for letting me glimpse your awesomeness. Thank you for letting me shine a light so that the world can see your Captain. You have SO much to offer the world - even if the world doesn't get it yet.
I do. And I'm grateful to be part of your journey of awesomeness.
Love always,
-Me
[ALBUM UPDATE: We've got about half the album recorded and I've approached a couple of engineers about mixing and mastering the project - one of whom has worked with artists like Clapton, BB King, and Rod Stewart. This is getting REAL, yo! If you haven't had a chance to pre-order your copy, there are only a few days left to do it before the first song goes out to sponsors!]
I've noticed a disturbing trend in business books recently: more and more crap books that are nothing more than thinly veiled sales pitches for the author's big-ticket program or service.
Now, I'm all for marketing inside your book. I think a strong call to action is important to get readers to join your list, become aware of the work you do, and eventually work more deeply with you.
But I don't want your ads "sprinkled" throughout the book. A book is not a live webinar. I can READ, for pity's sake, and I can go to the "references" section in the back of the book and find all the offers you have mentioned - if you've written your book properly in the first place.
And that's the problem. So many of these authors (and sadly, a LOT of them are internet/info marketers) capitalize on the size of their audience and their ability to sell a product to push out a book that isn't really all that good - leaving a lot of readers put out by how much advertising there is compared to the content. You can read hundreds of Amazon reviews about books that seem to be nothing more than a bad advertisement for their schlock, that is why the photography used for content and the reviews are so important.
Somebody started telling business people that a book is a great business card. They're WRONG.
A business card is designed to give you some information about a person: their profession, some contact information, and some of the more sophisticated marketers of the world even manage to slip an offer in there to get you to take action.
Here's the thing: I don't pay for your business card. I pay for information. Knowledge. I pay for your to give me the answer to my problem. And the answer isn't to pay you even MORE money to get the full answer. Sorry. That's crap.
If that's all your book does. STOP IT! Your book is NOT a business card!
A book is meant to disseminate information - helpful, useful information. Can you imagine getting a teacher's edition of a math book and having to opt-in or pay extra to get the answer keys? That's essentially what's happening here. They give you the problem, and a taste of the solution, but then hook you into coming back to them to get the real answer you were looking for in the first place.
This isn't an indictment of internet/infomarketers. There are some great books in the world. But a whole industry has risen up around creating your non-fiction book in 30 days and gaming the system so that you, too, can claim to be a best-selling author.
Which only waters down the effort and value of bona fide authors that put in the hours to craft a meaningful, useful book that actually serves the audience that buys it.
So after I found myself paying for and reading through another painful example of a best-selling author who didn't deserve the title, I couldn't help myself.
I got a little snarky. And I don't apologize one bit. I hope SOMEONE will prove me wrong, because what I'm seeing is a sad ripoff of people who genuinely want help - who actually pay money to get it - and are then sold a bill of goods.
I even called on TLC (the musical group) to make this point abundantly clear.
Let me hear from you. Have you paid for rotten books lately? What are some of the best business books you've ever read? Let's build a super-helpful reading list of must-read books and be a Rising Tide for everyone!
PLEASE SHARE THIS POST! If you know someone about to publish a book - or someone about to buy a book, do them a solid and share this video with them so we can curb the "crap book" population. 🙂