For the last three years, I’ve written a satire blog called Stuff Christians Like. I also wrote a book
And although there are probably a million ways to answer that question, mine is pretty simple and actually applies to more than just being funny. Here it is:
The first draft of the first chapter of my new book Quitter
That’s not a maybe, that’s a definitely. Somewhere along the way as you try to grow your dream, somebody isn’t going to like it. Maybe a whole lot of somebodies. They might criticize it, tell you to stop and even say you’ll never be good enough at that thing you’re trying to get good at.
When you run into somebody like that it can take the wind out of your sails for a minute. That’s how I felt when I read the first star review I ever got from someone on Amazon.
You’re too busy to pursue your dream right now. That’s one of the ideas I write about in my new book, Quitter, Closing the Gap Between Your Day Job and your Dream Job. Whether it’s a book or a blog or a mission trip or a new job, life is too full to really work on your “thing.”
You’ve got a lot going on. I do too. And sometimes, when we focus on our dreams, or try to brainstorm ideas, our wives cry in the kitchen. That’s been my experience anyway.
The other day I told my wife, “My new book is the best thing I’ve ever written.” I told her this for two reasons:
1. I believe it is.
2. If you say stuff like this to anyone but your wife you look cocky and dumb.
I wasn’t going to say that on a blog until her response knocked me over. Here is what she said:
A few days ago a 73-year-old man told me he was a little envious of my age. He wanted to write books. He wanted to speak at conferences. And knowing I was 35 years old and doing both those things already was a little frustrating to him.
I had to laugh.
Why?
We are all afraid of being sell outs.
“Sell out” is one of those labels anyone who ever attempts to do anything creative is afraid of. At least a little bit. (You may be inherently more confident than I am and immune to this fear.)
It’s a barb people will throw at you sometimes when whatever it is you’re doing grows a little bit. And when you hear this label the natural reaction is to think inside, “Have I done something wrong? Am I being untrue to the thing I’ve always wanted to do?”
Those aren’t bad questions to ask, but I think there’s a better one to ask first:
The microwave at the house we’re staying at doesn’t have any number buttons. If you want to punch the 1 and the 4 and the 5 to enter in a time of 1:45 you can’t, because those numbers don’t exist.
Next to a start button, numbers are probably the most important thing to me on a microwave. Instead of having them though we have a big dial. To set a precise time you have to spin it like a contestant on the Price Is Right. I’ll admit, that is different than any other microwave I’ve owned, but is different always better?
Everyone says “There are no bad ideas when you are brainstorming.”
No one believes it though.
We say that ground rule at the beginning of brainstorming meetings in the hope that it will creatively release everyone from the prison of trying to impress the most important person in the room.
That’s what we fear. We will look dumb. We will say an idea that is foolish or impossible or has already done by a million other people.
So we say, “There are no bad ideas,” but we do not believe it. We hold back our ideas and end up creating really safe, ordinary ideas even as we try to do something extraordinary.
I didn’t want to write this blog post.
After spending almost three years writing a different blog, I was terrified about starting this one. Why? Because I wanted my first post on my new blog to be amazing.
I wanted to start things with a bang. To come out of the gates strong. To quickly establish a degree of awesomeness.
In other words, I wanted this post to be perfect.