Writing issues of 7 for Sunday has become familiar (not to be confused with “easy”). I have a checklist which I use when I’m writing each issue. It’s as much for scratch-paper thinking, as it is for ticking off completed steps. Originally, the checklist had a lot of notes about formatting, what goes where, how to typeset the specific parts, image sizing, etc. all nuts-and-bolts stuff. As I’ve modified it, it’s now mostly signposts and I use it to celebrate each phase of the issue’s development.
Today, I was down to just a couple of these checklists and I hit print. How many copies? Without hesitation I printed 20—because that would be checklists through issue 150. It simply struck me as interesting that I’ve moved beyond “should I continue” and even beyond “can I continue” for this neat little weekly missive that I enjoy putting together.
A small platform—like a family restaurant, or an indie bookstore—can be run by a small group of passionate people. Possibly, it can even be run by one person. Things are too big, when they get big enough that everything needs to be normalized (specified, rules based, flow charted, committee decided and charted.)
The future of the internet that most excites me is also, in many ways, a snapshot of its past. It’s a place where the Neil Gaiman’s of the world don’t need to feed their thoughts into an engagement engine, but can instead put out a virtual shingle on their own small patch of cyberspace and attract and build a more intimate community of like-minded travelers. This doesn’t necessitate a blog — podcasts, newsletters, and video series have emerged as equally engaging mediums for independent media production. The key is a communication landscape that is much more diverse and distributed and interesting than what we see when everyone is using the same two or three social apps.
It comes down to engagement versus contribution. A large platform is one where engagement is rewarded (time spent on the platform, ads viewed, affiliate links followed, likes given, etc.) and a small platform is one where contribution is rewarded. What makes small platforms and spaces potentially great is that everyone’s contribution can be seen. “I see what you did there,” is both how culture is created and how cultural norms are enforced.
[…] The problem is that too many workplaces expect their knowledge workers to pull the proverbial lever – today in Microsoft Office form – 40+ hours a week when they’d be better off doing things that look lazy but are actually productive. The result is that most people have thought jobs without being given much time to think […]
That’s an insightful point from Housel. I’ve no real idea if the “too many workplaces” part is true, but my personal experience is that I am quite often doing things which don’t look like productive output. I don’t want to write (say, or even think) “which look lazy” because writing (saying, or even thinking) that reinforces mis-construing productive thinking as that-other-thing I’d prefer to avoid reinforcing.
I’m told that I get a lot done. Sometimes I’m told that I get an inconceivable amount done. I’ve been asked if I have a clone. (To which I reply with a wink and a smirk, “If I did have a clone, how would I get that other myself to do what I myself already don’t want to do? No, it’s just the one me.”) For me, doing the productive thinking—although there’s room to quibble about how productive it really is—is the easy part. It’s easy like: I couldn’t possibly stop thinking like that, all the time. My problem is that I cannot also get myself to do enough proverbial lever pulling.
What challenges and insights emerge when discussing the craft and logistics of podcasting?
Exploring the role of trust and preparation in creating meaningful podcast conversations.
No matter how it goes, it will speak to somebody. Because I also think— I have to remind myself too, that even if the episode I’m doing reaches one person, and it makes a change in the day for that one person, it was worth doing it. And they’re reaching more than that, you know?
~ Brandy Heyde Montague (13:03)
The conversation centers on the art of podcasting, with a focus on the balance between technical challenges and the need for authentic, engaging discussions. Topics include managing unforeseen disruptions, such as noisy environments or technical glitches, while maintaining the flow of meaningful conversations. Brandy and Craig emphasize the importance of making guests feel comfortable and embracing the unpredictable elements that naturally occur in a podcast setting.
Another key topic is the trust and preparation involved in creating valuable podcast content. The conversation highlights strategies like researching guests thoroughly, preparing outlines, and fostering a sense of purpose behind each episode. Brandy and Craig reflect on the vulnerability and nerves inherent in podcasting, discussing how both the host and guest can overcome these challenges to craft impactful conversations that resonate with their audience.
Takeaways
The importance of trust — Success in podcasting often hinges on trusting that each conversation is meaningful and will reach the right audience.
Embracing imperfections — Technical glitches and interruptions are inevitable but can become part of the show’s authenticity.
Guest preparation — Thorough research and clear communication help guests feel valued and confident.
Impact measurement — Even reaching a single listener can make an episode worthwhile.
Host vulnerability — Nervousness is a natural part of podcasting but can be managed through experience and focus.
Dynamic processes — Different podcast hosts use varying levels of preparation, and there is no single “right” way to approach it.
Long-term engagement — Building connections with potential guests over time can lead to fruitful collaborations.
Open-hearted storytelling — Approaching conversations with passion and curiosity enriches the experience for both hosts and listeners.
Resources
Google Docs for guest preparation — A one-pager describing the podcast’s goals, format, and links to past episodes is used as a resource for guest onboarding.
Resources for podcast outreach — Mention of long-term outreach strategies involving platforms like Instagram and Facebook to connect with guests.
How can podcasters sustain creativity, balance workloads, and adapt over time to maintain quality and engagement in their content?
The shift from raw, unedited episodes to a well-oiled podcasting system reveals an inspiring evolution in their creative journey.
We figured that if somebody picks up, you know, a book a month or they read five books a year, then we’ve kind of done our job.
~ Adam Ashton (10:59)
The conversation explores how the hosts of the What You Will Learn podcast transitioned from an impromptu production style to a refined system that lets them focus on their passion for books. Adam discusses their early days, starting with minimal equipment and editing, and how they gradually expanded their operation by outsourcing tasks like editing and social media to focus on the core creative aspects.
The discussion also goes into the freedom their backlog affords them, enabling them to engage with more substantial and meaningful books. Adam shares insights on the value of collaboration in sustaining motivation and avoiding creative burnout, emphasizing the importance of remaining relatable while producing quality content.
Takeaways
Collaboration sustains creativity — Working with a partner ensures accountability and enhances the creative process.
Shifting priorities over time — They transitioned from minimal production to a system with dedicated roles for non-core tasks.
Valuing quality over quantity — A significant backlog allows them to prioritize better books over shorter, less impactful ones.
Evolving personal identity — Despite podcasting for six years, they resist being pigeonholed as “just podcasters.”
Sharing knowledge accessibly — Their approach makes complex ideas from books approachable and engaging for listeners.
The importance of showing work — Transparency about their process fosters trust and relatability with their audience.
Scaling with systems — Outsourcing tedious tasks enables focus on creative and strategic podcast growth.
What I see in Nature is a magnificent structure that we can comprehend only very imperfectly, and that must fill a thinking person with a feeling of humility.
…the intrinsic muscles are largely ignored by clinicians and researchers. As such, these muscles are seldom addressed in rehabilitation programmes. Interventions for foot-related problems are more often directed at externally supporting the foot rather than training these muscles to function as they are designed.
Our feet are exactly as complicated as our hands. When I re-started running, jumping and using my feet, I soon started wondering how my feet actually work. Followed by wondering how I take care of them. And then… *ow* …to rehabilitate and strengthen them.
In these blog posts I’m trying to capture my initial experiences using a Slipbox. These posts are tedious to write and relatively long reads– just to capture one tiny idea. Sorry about that.
Why am I writing this post about the Slipbox?
When [if?] you start a Slipbox, you quickly wonder: Should I “import” everything [glancing about, books, Evernote, blogs… whatever it is you have]? Woa, that’d be a lot of work. It’s obviously not necessary that one “import” all your previous whatever-you-have in your life into a Slipbox; It’d be your Slipbox so there’s no “necessary.”
But there is some heated discussion about this: should one, or should one not, back import? The consensus is DON’T. The theory is that I have collected too much stuff. (That feeling of having collected much, but yet not accomplished what I want to with it, is part of what I’m trying to wrestle to the ground.) Putting anything into a physical Slipbox is a little more friction. And that’s one of the key points.
On the other hand, I have a curated collection of things here on my web site. And one dear-to-me tag is for specific podcast episodes I’ve heard over the years. That’s why I’ve been working through adding these particular podcasts to the Slipbox.
Today I found a podcast episode that I listened to in 2017. I was adding a slip about this podcast, noting that it is a wonderful introduction to Stoicism. I’m far beyond the contents of this podcast now, having done a lot of reading of original source, and modern analysis. But it’s something I wanted in the Slipbox, for the next time someone asks. (Elsewhere I pointed out that writing URLs is bonkers, so what I do is add a slip to the Slipbox and add a little symbol to remind myself there’s a corresponding blog post.)
So there I was adding that podcast, adding the person-reference (not explained here how/why I do that, sorry) …and OH SNAP! That podcast is with William Irvine. Back then, I had no idea who he is/was.
I’m currently reading a book by W B Irvine, A Guide to the Good Life. It’s an introduction to the ancient art of Stoic joy. (It’s an interesting book, etc but that’s not the point today.)
The point is that this connection was one I had missed. If I had had that podcast in my Slipbox, I would have noticed when I was first looking into this book.
Not sure all that typing is of any help. But there it is none the less. :)
I’m not sure how to describe this—other than to say it’s a pretty short read.
I’m definitely sure I’ve no idea how to pull-quote it.
I was just having a discussion about the AI Singularity, and then this fell into my lap. Is it going to be paper-clip optimizers, or benevolent beings?
This past weekend I had the opportunity to attend a Winter Immersive retreat hosted by the Movement Creative. There I finally got a chance to sit down with Jesse and record an interview. Be sure to follow the Movers Mindset on the web site, or wherever you prefer to listen to podcasts!
Unfortunately, true community in our modern world is hard to find for soldiers and civilians alike. Instead, we increasingly live out our lives as members of networks. This transition from community to network life is truly at the heart of the increasing feelings of loneliness, anxiety, and anomie that many people experience in the modern age. We’ve never been so “connected” — and yet so isolated at the same time.
Some time ago my wife, Terry and I prepared for a few days vacation aboard a friend’s boat. On a similar previous trip, Terry had done all the packing and we arrived with way too much baggage. This became readily apparent when I discovered she had brought along, for herself, nine (9) white sweaters… to Florida.
She argued, one was a top, one was a shell, one was beige, and another off-white, etc. There was not a lot of storage room aboard the boat and we had to share the space allotted us.
So this time, while Terry packed, I supervised saying, “Don’t take this. Why are you taking that? Are you sure you need these?” Finally she said, “Pack your own stuff! I’ll pack mine. You pack yours.” OK. I was determined to show just how light I could travel.
Fast forward to our arrival. We climb aboard and exchanged greetings. I was intensely proud of the fact that I had only one small bag. We quickly got underway and started cruising. However, the boat was sailing only a short time when a minor disaster struck. I split my pants! Big time! My well-worn, soft, comfortable jeans tore open in front at the crotch. The tired cloth had separated thread by thread, and once the tear started, the entire area opened exposing my wildly colored skivies! Everyone laughed hysterically, (except me.) Finally Terry says, “For goodness sake, go change your pants. You’re an embarrassment. Put on your other jeans.” I say, “What other jeans? I only brought these.” Everyone laughed hysterically, (except me.) One of our friends disappeared below, and returned with a giant roll of Duck Tape. “Here. Seasoned boaters never leave the dock without Duck Tape!” while placing a large piece across the front of my pants. Everyone laughed hysterically, (except me.)
But this gave me an idea. I went below, took off my tattered pants, turned them inside out, pushed the cloth back together and criss-crossed several pieces of Duck Tape on the inside. I smoothed the tape carefully, put my pants on and returned topside. All were amazed at the nearly invisible repair. Everyone laughed hysterically, (including me.) The repair lasted for the rest of the trip! Duck Tape saved my vacation!
Fast forward to the present. These days we have our own boat and I always carry a fresh roll of Duck Tape and, oh yes, an extra pair of pants.
Yes, this type of tape was originally used to seal up DUCTS, and is generally called “duct tape.” However, this story is about the brand name, “Duck Tape.” My father wrote this intending to mail it as a submission to a “Duck Tape Saves the Day” contest. So there.
Hi there!