Five Things I Think (I Think) đđ»
Why do "personal brands" feel so all-consuming?
Welcome back. If youâre new here (or just catching up), Iâm using this space to check in with some of the thoughts that are stewing and things Iâm seeing within my purview, as well as keep you updated on the various projects I've taken on.
Last week, I also shared a piece I worked on for a very long time: âThe Year Creators Went Hollywood.â Itâs a deep-dive exploration of the past, present, and future of the entertainment industryâs collision course with YouTube. I interviewed over a dozen different creators and industry folks for this piece, and if youâve enjoyed my writing in the past, I think youâll really like this one. You can read that story here.
AnywayâŠwhy kick things off by sharing that piece again? Well, thatâs the main topic of todayâs send.
â NGL
I think I donât want to build a âpersonal brand.â A friend of mine has been struggling with this concept of late. They feel an unseen, all-consuming pressure: that we need to flatten* our entire personalities, our art and our hopes and our dreams. To cherry-pick parts of our private life in order to perform a concise, consistent public persona. This is the proven path to making oneself worthwhile of collaboration these days, to open the door for opportunities and, ultimately, sustain a creative career.
I often feel this pressure, too. Probably because I write about the emerging creator phenomena and new media for a job, industries where âniche-ing downâ is held up as the true first commandment. Where squeezing every ounce of peopleâs sweet sweet attention is no longer simply a vesselâbut, rather, the finish line, a nectar served best upon winning the winding road to online success.
Iâm getting ahead of myself, though. Hereâs how a business writer, Tom Peters, describes the emerging importance of personal brand-ification in a cover story for Fast Company called âThe Brand Called Youâ:
âRegardless of age, regardless of position, regardless of the business we happen to be in, all of us need to understand the importance of branding. We are CEOs of our own companies: Me Inc. To be in business today, our most important job is to be head marketer for the brand called You.â
Nothing Peters says seems that novel, right? And yet, his article faced plenty of pushbackâŠwhen he wrote it in 1997. In a follow-up, editors at Fast Company even disavowed Petersâ vision of a world that then-contemporary culture decried as dystopian.
Last week, I mentioned how I recently finished Naomi Kleinâs Doppleganger. Itâs where I first encountered âThe Brand Called You.â Klein talks about her internal struggles as she went on tour to sell her first bookâitself an anti-capitalist manifesto and critique of corporate branding. Thereâs a âdisingenuousness to this theater,â Klein writes, as she âwanted it both waysâ:
âIsnât that what so many of us want as we try to win the game of personal brandingâor at least not to get slain by it? We carefully cultivate online personasâdoubles of our ârealâ selvesâthat have just the right balance of sincerity and world-weariness.
We hone ironic, detached voices that arenât too promotional but do the work of promoting nonetheless. We go on social media to juice our numbers, while complaining about how much we hate the âhell sites.ââ
Maybe itâs too late, and the ship sailed eons ago (in Internet years). Weâve already entered Petersâ worldâwhere the performance of authenticity is more essential to communicating ideas and selling books than authenticity is itself.
But when I do feel this pressure, I think about who I am, deep down. Iâm not someone who likes (or chases) attention; Iâm always been much more comfortable sitting in the corner with my headphones on, plugging away at some video or essay I truly believe in.
And Iâd like to think that for those of us who feel the same way, if we focus on constantly improving our craft, doing good work, and forming genuine relationships with the people around us, those core communities are what will take us far in the long runânot a myth we spin up to in building a âpersonal brand.â
Which brings me to my next pointâŠ
I think we should do everything in our power to market the things we believe in. Sounds hypocritical when matched with the previous thought, right?
As someone who perpetually wants to be in the state of making the thing, not marketing the thing, I struggle with this notion. But it finally all clicked when I watched this interview Tyler, the Creator gave a couple years ago.
The key moment starts around the forty-three minute mark, when Tyler shares his belief that younger artists need to stand behind their work more:
âYou went through something. You wrote words down. You figured it out in a structural format. Found music to go along with it. You recorded it.
And you mean to tell me that youâre going to be passive with your own sh*t and just put it on your story once? Are you f**king crazy bro?
Iâm still promoting my album that came out [last] June! Itâs a year out and Iâm still out here!â
His message inspired me to âremasterâ several of my Creator Mag profile pieces a year after they originally ran. By uploading them as audiobook-style videos on the Powder Blue YouTube channel, not only did I open up this evergreen storytelling to entirely new audiences, I also grew the channel to over 1,000 subscribers (joining YouTubeâs Partner Program in the process).
Itâs a weird balance, for sureâcontinuing to promote the projects I believe in without feeling like Iâm trying to draw attention to myself. I certainly havenât figured out that balance yet. As anyone who follows my personal Instagram can attest to, Iâve been spamming my story with screenshots from âThe Year Creators Went Hollywoodâ out of a wayward belief that maybe people who wonât click off to a website will read bits and pieces when presented right in front of them.
Nevertheless, I also like how the homie Ryan Ng put it in his recent upload, âHow to SELL Like an Artist.â He references the same Tyler interview and talks about learning to fall in love with marketing by treating it as its own art formâand finding creative ways to welcome audiences into your world. Highly recommend checking it out if you havenât already.
I think Strava is far and away the best social media platform. I started using the exercise tracking app in high school when training for cross country season and picked it up again last summer to log my running. Given how much Strava has blown up in those years in between, thereâs probably a good chance you know someone whoâs obsessed with itâmaybe even a little too obsessed.
Still, if youâre ever looking for a place where nearly every comment someone leaves you is positive and usersâ goals are aligned (getting in shape), this is the place for you. I also get a weird joy out of checking my GPS map after each outingâespecially this recent pickleball outing with the rents:
I promise Strava didnât sponsor this blog. Though I wouldnât turn them down if the opportunity arose!
I think I donât know how to take compliments. If youâve ever sent me a nice message about something Iâve made (or even offered praise in person), just know that I am quite grateful. Creating is an isolating endeavor; as I wrote last week, a lot of what drives me to create past personal expression is the chance to spark a conversation with those around me. ShockerâI like talking about the things I like talking about!
At the same time, if you have sent me a nice message and received a milquetoast response along the lines of âappreciate you homie đđ»,â just know that thatâs me struggling to process (and subsequently articulate) my feeling of deep gratitude.
Letâs review the tape. For my first example, I recently interviewed Hank and John Green live at VidCon. Before we got on stage, I briefly mentioned that (with their permission) I planned to plug the print zine Iâd been working on for the last several months, and then introduce them.
What I didnât realize was that John had brought a copy of the zine on his own. And the first thing he said upon sitting down on stage was this:
John Greenâauthor of The Fault in Our Stars, Turtles All the Way Down, and seven other best-selling booksâa) read âThe Year Creators Went Hollywoodâ b) went out of his way to praise it and c) encouraged the several hundred people present to go check it out.**
So of course my anxious ass responded byâŠtotally not acknowledging the compliment and proceeding to move on to the questions Iâd prepared.
In retrospect, that was a crazy creative career (as well as just life) moment! At the same time, Iâm being genuine when I say that this second example means just as much to me as Johnâs comment:
This was a random DM I got last month. What really stuck a chord was how they said my writing has helped them as they try to find their place in the worldâŠas thatâs the exact same impact my favorite creatives have had on me. I shot back some words of encouragement and we traded some messages, but all in all, these are the kind of examples I come back to when Iâm stuck wondering whether Iâm really cut out for this whole writing thing.
To be honest, for how much stuff Iâve put out online over the last decade or so, I donât get nearly as many of these messages as you might think. So when I do, they mean quite a lot.
I think Iâll keep writing this. Mostly for meâthough Vicky pushed me this week, saying if that was my sole motivation, why not just put it online as a personal blog post instead of blast it out as a newsletter?
Itâs a good point, something Iâll probably (over)think about in the coming weeks. I do want to keep friends and family updated on what Iâm up to, and I like how last weekâs blog sparked several catch-up phone calls.
There are probably easier ways to do that than writing 2,000-word emails, though I like this little space Iâve created. Anyway, if thereâs anything youâd rather see from me here (or add on), let me know!
A little postscript: Vicky and I attended the premiere of Rhett and Linkâs new series Wonderhole at the Academy Awards Museum on Wednesday. The next day, Samir congratulated us on making our âGetty Images debutââapparently itâs a thing to post a photo with the little Getty Images attribution tag.
Between that and turning around to see Jason Segel standing behind me at the premiere, if I didnât feel like I lived in Los Angeles previously, I certainly do now.
* Yes, Iâm familiar with culture writer Kyle Chaykaâs recent book Filterworld. No, I havenât read it yetâthough itâs on the list!
** Hank also proclaims âI think print is the future!â in this clip. He likes to say it a lot. One might think heâs on the new board of The Onion.








