Three Lessons
I’ve gone deep down the newsletter rabbit hole recently, and in that rabbit hole, people offer a ton of advice on how to optimize your funnel, how to write content that people share, how to write subject lines that make people click, etc etc etc… In a bizarro meta way, people write those pieces to move people down their funnel, share, click, etc etc etc… That stuff grosses me out tbh. This is not that.
I just want to share three things I’ve learned writing Not Boring for the past year.
Pick a Lane but Keep it Fresh
Find your “Personal Monopoly.” I learned about this concept from the writing course that kicked off my journey towards writing this newsletter. A Personal Monopoly is that specific thing that you are uniquely qualified to write about, and it often comes at the intersection of a few topics you’re passionate about.
For example, Bill James combined baseball and statistics, coined the term Sabremetrics, and has written more than two dozen books on related topics since 1977.
I, like so many other beginner writers, dismissed the idea at first. “Personal Monopolies might make sense for some people, but I’m different. I have interesting things to say about a lot of topics!” I was wrong.
Since focusing in on business strategy + pop culture, I've gotten more positive feedback and attracted more new readers than in the first ten months of writing this combined.
But don’t do a schtick. People can get so focused on their schtick that it becomes formulaic and a little nauseating. It’s tempting, because Schticks can work. A lot of those people have tens or hundreds of thousands of subscribers, book deals, and courses. But not being able to deviate at all doesn’t seem authentic or fun. It comes off kind of corny. It seems… boring.
Pick a focus, but improvise.
Consistency is Hard But Worth It
When I set up this Substack, I thought it would be casual. Maybe some links every couple of weeks.
Since then, I’ve sent 57 editions of Per My Last E-mail / Not Boring for a total of 107,295 words. The only time I was more than a day late was when I had Coronavirus, and not having the energy to think or write was one the most frustrating part of the experience. I’m hooked.
After I sent the first edition and no one laughed at me, and then the second, and then the third, I decided to write every week. It was challenging at first, but it’s been great in two ways.
First, sticking to doing something every week has given me stability during a crazy year. Second, delivering predictably lets people know what to expect from me. Ben Thompson wrote on the value of regular delivery:
A subscriber does not need to depend on the random discovery of content; said content can be delivered to the subscriber directly, whether that be email, a bookmark, or an app.
I hope that you look forward to finding Not Boring in your inbox every Monday (and now Thursday) morning.
People Are Nice and Secretly More Curious Than They Let On
When I started writing this newsletter, I had an image in my head of a text chain among all of my friends making fun of everything I wrote.
As far as I know, that wasn’t the case. We all think we’re the center of the universe, but people have their own shit going on. If someone you know takes the time and energy to make fun of you for writing, it’s either because a) you reallllly deserved it, or b) they’re an asshole. But really, it doesn’t happen.
No one pays any attention to your mistakes. They are focused on their own.
In fact, it’s been the opposite. Writing reignited conversations with people I haven’t spoken to in years, deepened and flavored relationships with good friends, and introduced me to new ones. In return for putting myself out there and writing, I’ve gotten to see peoples’ secret nerdy sides.
I’ve written a lot about community over the past year; writing is the best way to find and build a community of smart people people who are curious about the same things I am.
