Strategy questions

Seth Godin posted a selection of strategy questions a few weeks back, to coincide with his latest book’s release. I’ve found myself referring to these questions a few times, and wanted to post about it here to be sure everyone had a chance to notice them…

Where will I cause tension? What resistance should I anticipate from others (and myself)?

~ Seth Godin, from Strategy Questions

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…just to pick one to quote, to give you a taste.

I’ve been using this list as a primer when I want to think about some project. I’ve found it works in my own head, as well as with other people.

As always, his asking really good questions is a gift; A tremendously empowering gift.

Is there a question in that list which scares you?

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What lies ahead?

For a while, the Movers Mindset podcast’s episodes had opening segments recorded in post-production. They were as you’d expect: Here’s who’s on the show, this is who they are, here are a few things we talk about. This (as you surely know) is a bit of work. In later years—particularly once I was working entirely alone—I simply stopped doing this because, taking the time to do it, stopped me from actually getting the episodes out the door.

LISTENERS CAN’T “SEE” (OR HEAR) WHAT’S AHEAD. When you read a story in a newspaper, your peripheral vision gives you an idea of the stories that surround it. […] On the radio, someone needs to tell you explicitly what’s coming up.

~ Jonathan Kern, from Sound Reporting, p6

NPR has a concept called “billboards” which are short segments, up-front (“58 seconds long, at the top of the hour”) telling you what’s coming.

How do you (if you do) decide what you put on your “billboard” at the front of the show? Do you have goals; list three things, list something for every major turn in the conversation, etc.? Do you use any tools to help you?

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Don’t look at that part

We all struggle with this. No matter what our art is, there are always those bits that everyone sees and those bits that are covered up. And we face the question of how much effort to put into these various parts. It’s easy enough if it’s a hobby and you have all the time in the world. But you need to ship if you’re making a living off your art.

~ David Sparks, from Lessons From an Ancient Craftsman

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It’s always good when, as above, I can get any sense of commiseration with other creatives. I had a hard time ever coming to understand I am a creative, and the imposter syndrome for me is eternal. (Also, apparently a shared experience.) Great piece from Sparks about exactly what that quote suggests.

Meanwhile, I’m reminded of something I say often, which comes from my paternal grandfather: When asked his opinion on something, (ala, “How’s that look?”) he’d reply, “A blind man in Idaho would be happy to see it.” This makes no sense, in several dimensions. I have no idea where he got that from. The Idaho bit in particular always made me wonder. He and I were generally in Pennsylvania, so Idaho is a long way away, but oddly specific, while still oddly vague. Where in Idaho? And why Idaho? Maybe Idaho was some Depression-era fake-magical place pushed by con-men and became a stand in for “anyone in Idaho must be really well off.” Because the whole point of the joke is that a blind person would be delighted to see anything. I dunno… maybe it’s a humorous construct because the Idaho part is so extraneous, it feels like it must be important? Really, does that reply mean it looks good, or it’s bad and I don’t want to tell you? I mean, the reply literally does nothing but dodge the question. Or, maybe I’ve just over thought this… for 40 years?

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The longest stretch of deserted road?

What’s the longest stretch you’ve gone, away from your love of podcast creation?

For obvious reasons (in case you missed it) I’ve not been doing much in the way of podcasting this year. The last episode I published was March 28th, 2024— so about 8 months now. I’m at a point now, where I’ve enough health that it would be possible to resume . . .

I miss having the conversations, and I even miss doing the uncelebrated work (which we all know so well!) to get them published. But I don’t miss the grind… that treadmill feeling of always having some next thing that could be done.

What’s stopped you in the past? How did you get back on the bicycle? Why did you get back on the bicycle?

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Driveway moments

The driveway moment: When a report or interview really works, you can tell and we can tell. We can, because the story hits the top of the most emailed list at NPR.org. You can tell, because the story keeps you pinned in your car, in a parking lot, in your driveway, or at the side of the road—as you wait to hear how the story will end. In letters and emails, listeners named these occurrences “driveway moments,” and say they look forward to them, even when it means being late for work or dinner. So that’s your goal: make some driveway moments.

~ Jay Kernis, from Sound Reporting, pg xi

I’m finally heading into NPR’s book, Sound Reporting, and this big of context included by Kernis in the Foreword got me thinking…

What are you doing so that you even know when you’ve put out a “driveway moment?”

It doesn’t matter at all if we feel it’s a driveway moment. It matters if our listeners think so. Are you paying attention to your listeners? Do you have multiple ways for them to connect back to you?

I do think about “driveway moments” when creating episodes. It’s difficult however, given the way that I create my work; They have to simply happen. If one wants to create them, that requires planning, work and editing.

For me, when I encounter a listener (virtually or in real life) the only question I ask them is…

Has any episode grabbed you? …any particular moment or image?

And then I shut up and listen.

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Oh, we’re going

Are we restless and driven to explore, as Sagan says? Will going into space bring humanity together or will we simply bring inequalities and injustices with us? The idea of humans as benevolent explorers sits somewhere between two extremes: those who argue it is our “destiny” to “colonize” other worlds, and those who ask why we’re going into outer space at all.

~ Michael P. Oman-Reagan, from Wandering Among the Stars

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We’re definitely going. Whether we like it or not, there are enough of us who are unable to not try to wander outside our little cave and over the next hill, sabertooth tigers or no. I think a much better question is: What have we lost, now that many (most?) of us are no longer in touch with the night sky. My answer: A lot. And if we continue and lose our curiosity entirely, everything.

I’ve had the insanely rare privilege of experiencing the real night sky on many occasions. (For one example, once in a very special place, on a moonless night, Mars cast my shadow.) In all my experiences, I still believe I’ve only glimpsed a part of my human heritage. What would we be like if we all were fully in touch with our heritage?

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Which reminds me of…

The sud­den flash­es of insight we have in states of med­i­ta­tive distraction—showering, pulling weeds in the gar­den, dri­ving home from work—often elude our con­scious mind pre­cise­ly because they require its dis­en­gage­ment. When we’re too active­ly engaged in con­scious thought—exercising our intel­li­gence, so to speak—our cre­ativ­i­ty and inspi­ra­tion suf­fer. “The great Tao fades away.”

~ Josh Jones, from Why You Do Your Best Thinking In The Shower

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I really dislike Open Culture’s web site—modal dialogs, moving thinguses, distracting whatsits… but then, that’s what Reader Mode is for. :) Meanwhile, this was an interesting read just for the nugget of: It’s the distraction, stupid. As I read the bits about the Tao, I realized that—if I had read the Tao—I would not have read into the Tao sufficiently to get this point. (And of course, I’m presuming that Jones’s interpretation—or his reporting thereof, at least—is correct.)

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This is how people actually find your show

I’m reading Amy Sillman’s Faux Pas and when I was searching her name in the Podcasts app I came across this conversation with writer Sheila Heti.

~ Austin Kleon, from Getting in and out of trouble

People find your show because they are looking for something, or someone, very specific.

People are not just sitting around thinking, “I feel like a need a new podcast to listen to… maybe something that inspires me to move more…” And then they search for “movement inspiration” . . . and then they land on my Movers Mindset show. No that’s not at all how it works. People do not find our show.

People find ONE, SPECIFIC episode. That’s what Kleon did above.

Think of a guest, or a topic, which you did about a year ago…

Now search for that person or topic in your podcast player, or in a web search engine…

Did you find that one episode you were thinking of?

Because people do that. And only then does our show description, show title, show art, episode art, episode notes, and all our hard work gives them the chance to pick us.

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Mr. Jones, put a wiggle in your stride

[When you are asked to do the score for a film, what makes you say yes?] If it seems like it will be a challenge and fun, then of course I want to do it. Also if what is needed is not something that somebody else can do better than I can. There is a kind of more conventional soundtrack thing and if that’s what they are going for I’ll say, “You know, there are people that do this better than I do. You need to go to them.” But other people want to try something new. They want to try something maybe a little different.

~ David Byrne, from David Byrne

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Wait, how is this the first thing from David Byrne that I’m posting? I’m flabbergasted by this oversight.

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To make, as in: Creation

The most important work we do is to make decisions. Decisions don’t seem effortful (turn left or right, say yes or no) but the apparent risk and emotional labor is real. Hard decisions are hard because of the story we tell ourselves about repercussions and responsibility.

~ Seth Godin, from Decisions as effort

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To make a decision is an act of creation.

I’m not sure when I fully integrated the idea that making decisions is a creative act. But it definitely is a creative act. Making a decision is not simply choosing among options. Making a decision is not simply saying ‘yes’ to something. (And I’m not referring to the obvious corollary that a ‘yes’ to something is a ‘no’ to other things.) Making a decision creates a connection between the before and the after. Those were two things, and through our decision we create a connection; We create something greater than the simple sum of those two “parts.” The connection itself is something wholly new.

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