business n' branding | Hillary Weiss

Do other people’s social media “success posts” make you feel like trash? Read this.

Photo is of the author after someone else’s “success post” made her feel like a garbage person. Source.

Uh oh. It happened again.

Jimmy Jilliondollars just shared another one of those Facebook posts.

Maybe it’s a screenshot of some email or text from a client or customer, or the back end of their Shopify or PayPal.

Maybe it’s a selfie of them smiling or giving the thumbs up, or eyes closed with prayer hands talking about “gratitude” or “hustle”.

Maybe it’s some random photo of a pristine white sand beach neither of you have ever been to.

But either way, your stomach starts to churn a little… and you start reading.

“Another day in the life when you’re #BLESSED.”

“Hard work pays off.”

They begin.

The rest of the sentences probably read like this.

Short lines.

Above the fold.

So you click.

To read the rest of it.

On LinkedIn or Facebook or Instagram.

Despite yourself.

And lo and behold: They wax on about being broke once upon a time/FINALLY finding a foolproof formula/hiring a team/changing the way the client looked at things/working with an ultra-expensive mystery mentor.

And then there’s a number drop. Phrases like “six or seven figures” get involved. And it inevitably ends in something like:

“This isn’t even unusual. We sign contracts like this/have happy clients like this/make this kind of money every day.

Want the secrets to how we did it? The link is in the comments/schedule a call/WE HAVE JUST A FEW SPOTS LEFT IN 2018, SO BOOK YOUR SLOT.

[16 hands pointing down emojis] [20 money bag emojis] [6 heart eyes emojis] [Inexplicable fried shrimp emoji that was probably a typo they didn’t notice in their moment of unbridled elation].”

Inevitably, that churning in your stomach gets a little stronger, and your shoulders start to slump.

That tiny voice in the back of your head pipes up and squeaks: “See, I told you you were trash!”

You click away, but it might still bug you for the rest of the day… especially if you don’t have a story of your own to share right now.

Yes, it’s happened again: Someone else’s social media success story has made you feel like a garbage person.

Now don’t get me wrong. Entrepreneurs need to share their wins with their community.

Ours is often a lonely and isolating life, and we deserve to throw little fireworks displays for ourselves when something goes right. Shoot, I wrote a whole post like this after my first product launch, and even gave a ballpark sales number.

But we’re all only human.

Sometimes it can feel like other people’s fat paydays or game-changing sales numbers slurp our mojo out through a low-self-esteem straw. It makes us worry we’re not good enough, or we’ll never be able to catch up.

So I say: Enough of that.

The thing about these success posts? They don’t tell the whole story. They’re not supposed to.

Because, chances are, the real story’s a lot less glamorous than those unnecessary heap of emojis convey.

Everyone loves a good rags-to-riches story. Everyone loves an underdog.

But when we can’t see the journey, or don’t think about the path it took for those raggedy underdogs to get there? We have a habit of turning against ourselves.

Our brains cruelly decide to skip over the reality of the sleepless nights or the thousands of hours and dollars they poured into making that success happen, and ask ourselves “Why am I not there yet?!”

So for today, I’ll be the you’re-not-trash fairy godmother, pulling back the curtain on the most common humblebraggy Jimmy Jillionaire success posts — so you can feel better, move forward, and love yourself and your journey a little more.

Common success post #1: “1 EMAIL I WROTE/1 TWEAK I MADE TO THIS FUNNEL MADE ME/MY CLIENT ELEVENTY BILLION DOLLARS.”

It sounds like magic, doesn’t it?

Oh my gosh!, we wonder. What was the one thing?

Let’s assume the poster is telling the truth (some aren’t). If so: good for the writer/strategist! They should be incredibly proud.

… But this statement also doesn’t take into account that success also isn’t 100% on the writer/strategist.

Remember, here’s what you’re not seeing:

The quality of the offer and how much trust the creator had built up with their community. If it’s an offer the community was asking for from a favorite expert? Of course they’re gonna jump on it.
The visibility of the offer, i.e. how big the creator’s list is, which platforms they’re using to present the offer, how affluent their community is, etc.
The price of the product. (A $50k launch for a $10k product is verrry different to a $50k launch with a $100 offer.)
How ready to buy their audience was before the email rolled out — which may have been the result of a recent event, preexisting fame, or any huge number of factors.
How many launches they’d run previously, and how many tactics had been proven and tested prior to this one email/funnel.

So remember: You’re not a failure if you can’t boast the same numbers as the result of “a single email or tweak” currently.

Take your time, track your stats, and when it does happen? Shout out about it.

Common success post #2: “I MADE ELEVENTY BILLION DOLLARS ON A PRODUCT LAUNCH.”

Yes, buuuut!

More goes into a product launch than a product and an idea. You don’t just drop something on the internet and watch cash roll in… unless you’re Oprah or Kim Kardashian.

Remember, here’s what you’re not seeing:

How much they invested in team and tech, and for how long. Many big-name launches begin their creative and strategic build-outs months in advance, and usually invest tens of thousands of dollars.
The past launch failures they’d been forced to learn from — because everyone has a “flop story”.
How much they spent on FB ads. This number is almost always WAY bigger than you think — even $50k-$100k in some cases, and prices are only going up.
What their break even numbers were…. which could have been as high as 50%-90%+ of the money they made on the launch.
What kind of meltdowns and frantic pivots happened behind the scenes, and how hard they had to push on sales calls and follow-ups to make their numbers.

Product launches are tough, and often unpredictable — period. So much of it comes down to timing and trial and error.

Hang tight. Keep testing and tweaking. You’ll get there.

Common success post #3: “I HAVE ELEVENTY BILLION ACTIVE SUBSCRIBERS ON MY MAILING LIST AND MY POSTS REGULARLY GO VIRAL.”

Ah, the ol’ list-bragstravaganza.

As the world’s absolute worst email marketer (for myself — not my clients!): These statements should NOT let you lose hope!

When it comes to list size, there’s a saying that rings truer every time I hear it:

“List size doesn’t matter. Engagement does. You can make a million dollars off 200 engaged subscribers — and $5 off 10,000 who don’t care.”

One of my favorite marketers Jason Zook did a great post about this a few years ago.

When he was first building his email list, Jason encouraged sign-ups using an iPad giveaway. In a way, it worked! Thousands of people signed up… but just not for his writing or insights. Those folks were there for the free iPad, so when he started sending out newsletters and offers? They weren’t buyin’. (And some were even actively annoyed.)

In the end? He deleted his subscriber list of 25,000 to start from scratch.

Don’t get me wrong: There are plenty of people out there with crazy-engaged lists tens, or even hundreds, of thousands strong.

However, in that case, here’s what else you’re not seeing behind the scenes:

The 10+ years that writer spent penning blog posts to basically no one in their PJ’s
The investments they made in paid traffic to attract people to them (ads, etc.)
The sweat it took to pitch countless media outlets to let them write posts and land features, so they could get themselves out there and in the spotlight front of new people
How hard they worked on their opt-ins/funnels to attract their dream customers and clients to them, and leverage all appearances/features

Success via email marketing isn’t a “biggest list wins” numbers game. It’s about how much value you can offer, to as many people who care as possible.

So as long as you’re serving and dishing the good stuff out to your peeps? You’re on the right track.

Now before I go, to all of those who’ve been Jimmy Jillionaires recently: BIG CONGRATS to you for your success, and sharing your journey. You deserve to shine and have your moment.

But for the rest of us? Don’t let people’s celebration posts dazzle you out of starting, or moving forward.

While we celebrate each other, even when we feel a bit down on ourselves, we must keep in mind every time without fail:

We’re seeing the victory lap, not the whole race.

And our moment in the sun is coming soon enough.

Stay encouraged my loves! You got this!

P.S.

Shameless plug: Speaking of email lists and launches, I’m running my first ever Black Friday sale of The Wordshops this Friday.

I’ll be offering a couple pretty fantabulous deals — one of which is something I’ve never offered to the public before, but here’s a hint: It involves you renting my brain. ;)

To get on the list to be the first to know, stop by https://hillaryweiss.com/subscribe

Footwork, headwork, heartwork: How I cracked $10,000+ in sales on my first product launch

I watched with horror, almost in slow motion, as my fist collided with the side of my Sifu’s face.

Fortunately I’m still very new to the martial art of Wing Tsun, so I don’t pack enough power for a Paak Sau — a blocking technique — to hurt.

… Which is probably why my instructor Sifu Ethan immediately started laughing as I frantically began to apologize for my wobbling punch.

Ethan is the extremely patient, extremely awesome teacher at Brooklyn Wing Tsun. He’s skilled at his craft, passionate about his work, terrifyingly fast, and (in that moment) wholly determined to drill into my skull one very important detail:

“OK. Think back. What did we learn last week?”

“Uhhh….” I mumbled, stuffing my hands into the pockets of my uniform, still recovering from my split second of humiliation.

He pointed down to my flat black Wing Tsun shoes.

“Oh! Right!” I cried. “Feet! Arrow step!”

(This is the foundational move of any Wing Tsun practitioner. It allows you to move quickly toward your opponent without losing your fighting stance, or letting your feet too far off the ground — which prevents an aggressor from sweeping your legs out from under you.)

“Yes!” He threw his hands in the air victoriously. “Footwork. Do that and everything else falls into place.”

I practiced the step again, shuffling forward.

“Good.” he confirmed. “You wanna go faster? Footwork. You wanna hit harder? Footwork. OK. Let’s try again…”

That’s one one of the biggest things martial arts has taught me, much in the same way dance did in middle and high school:

It’s easy to get distracted by what’s immediately in front of you — your arms and fists, your opponent and competition, and your visions for what you can do— but in reality?

The most powerful tool you have is your foundation. Your footwork.

I thought about this moment a few weeks later as I watched, in shock, as my sales totals passed $10,000 after the launch of my first course, The Wordshops.

The cart had been open for just under a week.

I’d launched on Friday, and the live version of my course had sold out by Tuesday.

Now it was Thursday, and the D.I.Y. versions were continuing to sell.

While a part of me was completely elated, a noisier, squirmier part of me was completely confused and a little alarmed.

My email list was tiny. I’d spent a whopping $35 on Facebook ads for the blog writing challenge that led up to the launch — which ended up attracting close to 350 awesome participants almost entirely organically! — but none for the course itself.

I’d intended this to be more of a “soft launch” to test concepts, while the big ad push would rain down later this winter. (Not to mention I’d realized all too late that I was launching parallel to one of the biggest copywriting courses in my industry.)

So… how was this happening right now?!

While I work my ass off and have been blessed with a lot of incredible luck in my 6 years of business — I’m also a realist.

First product launches are incredibly challenging. I’ve seen countless gifted people invest thousands, only to have their initial push deliver so-so results, or none at all.

Reason being? There’s a huge difference between people liking you (even loving you!), and wanting to give you their money. Let alone a lot of their money.

Yet there I was, standing in my kitchen in my PJ’s, pouring whipped cream into my coffee because we were out of half and half, staring in shock at my little Shopify Sales graph.

The first thing I said out loud, before I could even consider celebrating, was: “Why?”

Sure, I’d done my homework. I’d talked to my audience first, and tested everything.

Sure, I’d done a decent job drumming up excitement with a blog writing challenge, and talking about the launch before it happened.

But I’d seen a lot of crazy smart people do that and flop. In fact I was almost certain I’d be one of them.

Maybe I just had a lot of beginner’s luck?

I’m sure luck was part of it. But maybe there was something else…

That’s when I remembered the words my Sifu used:

“Footwork! Do that and everything else falls into place.”

During the official launch of The Wordshops, I was constantly distracted by what was in front of me — and boy, was there a lot in front of me.

There were emails to write, creatives to pay out, messaging to nail, and final course components to QA.

But what I was forgetting about in that moment of shock at the money coming in was everything that came before — and all of the work that had gone into my building my reputation and tribe before a single logo was designed, or photo taken.

I was forgetting that the two beta rounds I’d run of the course that had turned a few students into raving fans.

I was forgetting the hours spent on free coaching calls, podcasts, and on stages.

I was forgetting spending far too long in my Facebook and Twitter PM’s helping other writers and entrepreneurs however I could.

We talk a lot in the industry about how to market yourself; or how to come up with your concept, how to attract leads and nurture them into buyers, how to muscle through the challenges…

But what we don’t talk about enough is the foundation we need to lay beforewe offer something to the world .

It’s not sexy, it requires a ton of effort, and there’s little you can do to quantify it while it’s happening.

But if you lose sight of it, or think you can move forward without it? You might find that none of your punches end up landing.

I’ve come to realize: Building stuff for the world requires a combination of work: headwork + heartwork + (most importantly) footwork.

First, the headwork: You must come up with an idea people want to invest in.

This is the heaviest mental lifting piece. You’ve gotta ask around, find out what people are looking for — and then you’ve gotta build that dang thing.

That means pouring the best of your most desirable expertise into what you create, while finding ways to make it unique-to-you and original. That means finding out how to translate what you instinctively do onto paper, and into simple steps.

So I did hours of customer interviews and created pages upon pages of shorthand notes in Google Docs detailing my own mental processes. It’s also the reason I ran the two beta test rounds so I could get complete 360 feedback from my students.

(I talk a little about how I built The Wordshops here, and don’t worry: I’ll bore you all to tears with even more info on my process soon.)

Then comes heartwork: You’ve gotta learn how to talk about what you’re selling to the people who’ll want to buy it.

Ah, marketing.

If only you were as simple as throwing a sales page at people and watching money roll in.

But nope! Today’s consumers aren’t just smart, they’re incredibly discerning.

If you wanna get results? You’ve gotta throw your heart into the way you share your ideas. You need to make sure your concept is something your audience will understand and jive with — so you have to find a way to pull the curtain back on all the soul you poured into it, the value your customers can get, and exactly what results you can help them create.

It’s the reason I decided to start with the blogging challenge to make sure the tribe I wanted to serve connected with everything I could do for them. No smoke, no mirrors, just tools and help from my end, and a little dedication on theirs to make things happen.

Then, when it came time to write my promo emails? I stripped the gimmicks and formulas and shot for honesty.

While future campaigns promoting The Wordshops may lean a little heavier on the persuasion side of things? For this one I just put my heart on the table and told the story of how and why I built ’em.

And why did all that headwork and heartwork pan out? I’m willing to bet it was because of the final (or perhaps first) piece of the puzzle: my footwork.

My clients and colleagues would tease me mercilessly about the fact I hadn’t put out my course yet after 3 years of talking about it.

But what they maybe didn’t know?

I was perfecting my foundation — my footwork.

I’ve been in this field for long enough now to understand: You can have the flashiest branding, the best concept, the fanciest special guests and bonuses — but if no one knows you from boo? You’re screwed.

So you’ve gotta pound the digital pavement. You’ve gotta put yourself out there, over and over, until people start to take notice and recognize you. You’ve gotta build trust. You have to show, instead of just tell, why people should invest in you long before you offer them anything for purchase.

That’s why I spent the 18 months before launch teaching wherever, whenever, and however I could. I was making friends and cementing relationships with potential future students and dropping hints about the course to build excitement. When someone approached me to ask me a question (in person, on Facebook or Twitter, or in my inbox), I tried to give them every bit of help I could — not because I was secretly hoping they’d buy my future course, but because I love to teach and share what I know, and I love having the kind of expertise that can really make a difference for entrepreneurs across the planet. That’s what I’d really dig being known for, and a huge part of the reason I built The Wordshops.

So, sometimes consciously, sometimes subconsciously, and universally imperfectly: I was doing the slow burn work of establishing myself as a visible writer and writing coach. I was practicing my footwork.

But hey, let’s make no bones about it: You can have all your headwork, heartwork, and footwork in place and it’s still easy to get overwhelmed by a first launch.

Scratch that: It’s easy to get completely crushed by the weight of the conceptual freight train you’re trying to push along, the punches you have to throw and the obstacles flying at you along the way. (Thanks for nothing, tech gremlins.) It almost happened to me, too.

And I won’t pretend that there wasn’t a huge chance the first Wordshops launch could have tanked.

But if it had? I was prepared to dust myself off, drape my dignity around myself, and march on, determined to do better on the next round — because that’s just business.

Fortunately, it didn’t pan out that way. And I thank my footwork for being the biggest force carrying me through to the success I saw.

Is it possible to launch first, and then focus on footwork? Absolutely.

(After all, your course may give you the material and focus you need to build up your foundation in the first place.)

But it’s like perfecting punches before you move across the mat while throwing them: it’s a different way of learning — and you may suddenly realize you have to re-learn how to throw your fists once you start to incorporate the rest of your body.

… And you also might end up accidentally punching your teacher in the face.

So I want to remind you, whether you’re about to launch a new concept, or whether you’re dreaming up one right now:

Don’t get so lost in your visions for the future ahead that you forget to pay attention to what’s beneath your feet, and the platform you’re building for yourself, right now.

If you’re choosing visibility, you can’t lose sight of how you’re standing and moving through the world in your chosen field.

“You wanna go faster? Footwork. You wanna hit harder? Footwork.”

And if you flub it anyway?

Square your shoulders, fix your stance, get back on the mat and… go another round.

The fire & fury of whole-assery: How my course The Wordshops finally got made

DON’T KILL YOUR BLOG: A love story

Something’s waiting for you:

It was 3 AM in late December 2015. I was sitting on my childhood bed in my underwear because the AC was broken again. Of course.

I was at my parent’s house in Florida for the Christmas holiday. And while I was supposed to be taking time off from work, I’d spent the last few hours tossing and turning with a restlessness that could only mean one thing:

I had an idea… and I needed to write about it.

But it wasn’t just any idea, and it definitely wasn’t an idea that fit into my regular blog lexicon, which included such glorious, wholly-expected titles like The Art of Crafting Awesome Client Experiences, and The Unwritten Rules of Making it as a Freelance Digital Creative.

Nope. This didn’t fit in with what I was “supposed” to blog about at all.

(Which isn’t saying much. In the copywriting world you’re “supposed” to write about copy strategy 101, conversions, persuasion, building your business, and something something selling through story…

… Which is probably why I’d spent the previous 4 years avoiding it like the plague.

Besides — I was way too busy writing everyone else’s blogs anyway, right?)

Still: This was different.

It was about my childhood. It was about my own personal philosophies. And it also painted a pretty unromantic picture of the way I see the world.

I’d tried to write it a few times but all I had to show so far were a few half-hearted drafts, and most ended with some variation of:

“F — K IT. NO IDEA WHERE I’M GOING WITH THIS, OR IF PEOPLE WILL EVEN CARE. DELETE.”

But as I laid in bed that night, the idea began to pull me by the hair and poke me in the ribs. And it wouldn’t leave me alone.

It was clear sleep wasn’t coming. So I threw off the sweaty covers, sat up, and dragged my laptop onto my bed.

I made a quick list of bullet points that combined the story I wanted to tell with the “takeaway”, and got to work.

Imagine my surprise when the idea suddenly began flying out from under my fingers.

Instead of feeling draining and tedious, as blogging so often did, this felt energizing, like I was finally getting a chance to throw and shape clay I’d been carrying around inside me for years, unsure of what it was.

By 4 AM, I had a finished rough draft, and went to bed.

The next morning I read it anxiously over my coffee.

And… I didn’t hate it. In fact, I liked it. A lot.

The thought of publishing it made me simultaneously uncomfortable and elated that I’d hit on something so true for me, and managed to get it organized enough to share.

But what if people didn’t like it? Or worse — what if no one cared at all?

As Neitzche once said, to the delight of many a goth 17 year old: “If you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.”

… Bet ol’ Friedrich didn’t know the same was true for blog posts.

I read it over again. And again. Made a few changes, tightened a few concepts.

Then I gave it a title:

“Notes from an unremarkable child: How painful average-ness equipped me with a life philosophy”.

Closed my eyes…

… And hit “Publish”.

A few minutes later I shared it on my social media channels and turned off my phone, determined not to care if and when no one took notice of it at all.

Then, when I returned a few hours later… I was blown away.

My phone started to buzz with texts, PM’s, emails, and social comments and shares in a way it never had before. While it wasn’t “viral” by any means, the response I received was almost shockingly heartfelt.

“I went through exactly the same thing, I just didn’t know how to put it into words,”

“I can’t believe this is your story! I’d always assumed you were a straight-A student…”

“I love this so much! Thanks so much for the truth talk!!”

At that moment, my love affair with blogging really began.

But before I go any further, let’s talk about the elephant in the room:

As brands, business owners, and writers, we all know we’re “supposed” to blog. So why don’t enough of us do it — or really enjoy it?

Yes, we know we should use it to “build our brands and businesses”, but when you’re boring yourself to tears, or spending hours researching “50 SEO Secrets of Sparkle Unicorns”, only to get 0 response to what you create?

Chances are you’re gonna think: “Nah. I don’t need to do this.”

And yet! That doesn’t make blogging any less essential for branding yourself, developing your messaging, and building a business.

It was on that fateful, muggy Florida morning, I realized: I’d been going about this blogging thing all wrong.

While yes, I had to keep the basic rules o’ blogging in mind (write something your audience will find valuable, have a lesson and a takeaway people can utilize, have a call to action, etc.), the limits I’d been placing on myself in terms of subject matter were totally zapping my creativity and energy.

Tl;dr — I wasn’t blogging because I was bored.

So I decided to take another approach.

Yes, of course it was intimidating to write an article for myself after a long day of writing for clients.

But when you’re a creative who’s genuinely excited about an idea? You tend to get a second wind, don’t you? It’s the reason so many of us get shiny object syndrome when we’re in the middle of a launch. #guilty

So: Instead of writing what I thought I should write, I decided I was only going to write what I wanted to write, and what made me genuinely excited to create — as long as I could make it valuable to other people (and I’d save the rest for my diary).

I also refused to put myself on a strict schedule.

I rolled back on that annoying voice that squeaks:

“If you’re not blogging at least once a week, why bother?!”

And replaced it with:

“I’ll aim to blog once a month about things I’m genuinely excited to say and share. And if I miss a month? I won’t beat myself up.”

2 years later, my blog posts have helped me amass thousands of followers (particularly on Medium), and attract a huge range of phenomenal connections, opportunities, and projects — because, as it turns out?

When you’re crazy excited to write, create, and share ideas, people find them crazy easy to connect with.

Make no mistake: Writing a blog is still not:

A fast and easy way to make money.

The way to become an instant internet celebrity.

Just the ticket for soothing our own need for validation and support in our creative endeavors online. (Quite the opposite, really.)

In fact, if you ask a dear internet-famous blogger friend of mine how to make a living off blogging alone, she’ll probably tell you, “OK so go back in a time machine to 2008, and…”

But blogging is a whole heap of even more valuable things when it comes to building your brand and business.

For example…

Blogging helps you get in the habit of shaping your most important ideas.

Because that’s just what it is. A habit. The more often you share your own concepts, the easier it is to edit and expand on them, and figure out what your unique point of view is. (This also helps to suss out your brand and business’s “why”.)

Your blog is your training camp and your off-season game. The more you practice giving form and life to your own perspective and beliefs, especially if they’re outside the norm for your chosen field? The stronger your unique point of view becomes, and the easier it will be to share it with clients and customers.

Being able to translate your experiences onto the page is almost like learning another language. You’ve felt it, seen it, and done it all — but how can you give your reader a taste of your experiences and ideas so they can really understand?

That alone is a massively valuable practice worth starting and maintaining.

Blog posts can be repurposed for pretty much anything.

Want to write a new freebie? Got a course module you’re working on? Need some sort of subject matter for your video series? In search of a story for a marketing sequence?

Maintaining a blogging habit, even if it’s just once a month, can offer you a whole heap of your own content and original ideas to pull from, as well as cementing which stories “work” for your particular niche and industry.

Blogging gives you space to experiment and mess around.

In the last year alone I’ve shared a number of posts totally unrelated to writing — and they’ve been some of my best. Because I’ve found there are so many things to discuss on this entrepreneurial journey; like willpower, radical self-trust, the shadow side of creativity, and the value of rage.

But without giving myself permission to write Notes of an Unremarkable Child a few years ago? I never would have known that was even an option.

Blogging is less pressure than a book, and more formal than a Facebook post. (Though you can absolutely re-purpose a long Facebook post into a blog post. I’ve done it many times.) That makes it the perfect practice platform.

A few evolutions of my brand ago, I’d call my blog “The space for my words to run free after I’ve spent my days corralling everyone else’s.”, and I think that makes more sense to me now than it did when I first wrote it.

Blogging gives you something to do that’s just for you. It’s for your audience too of course, but on your turf, they have to deal with you talking about ideas the way you want to. That’s ultimate creative freedom.

Blogging helps you meet people, and maintain those relationships.

Truth be told, there’s nothing quite like getting those magical little emails that say “Yours is the only blog I ever read anymore”, and “I loved this so much,” “I needed this today, thank you so much,”.

It’s a great feeling to have people inviting you to guest blog, or appear on podcasts, or contribute to a course or article.

But more important than any compliment or accolade is a blog posts’s ability to put you in front of people who may never have met you, or read your stuff before.

I’ve developed friendships across the street and across the planet just by writing and sharing posts each month. I’ve had people stop me at conferences to say they’ve read every one of my articles (after which I try not to choke with excitement and surprise). And, whether they’re heavyweights, “influencers”, colleagues, potential clients, or newbie writers just getting their start — each one of those relationships has a whole heap of value and potential.

And finally: My blog helps me take the temperature of my audience — and vice versa.

Make no mistake: Sometimes an audience’s level of response can be relative. Sometimes algorithms don’t work in your favor, and you have to share a post a few times to really gage a reaction.

But usually? The reaction to a given post will help you sniff out what your people most want you to talk about — which has the power to energize you, and make you excited to keep talking and keep sharing about the things that matter to you.

And writing about topics that interest you, and light you up, also gives people who won’t jive with you the ability to self-select out of your corner of the internet.

All of this to say: If you think you’re ready to give up on blogging — DON’T.

You have hundreds, even thousands of ideas knocking around in your skull every single day, whether you realize it now or not.

If you don’t practice putting them out there? They may never see the light.

So focus on keeping it low pressure. Keep it fun. If you’ve quit blogging, start up again by focusing on what excites you — and you might just find those little off-beat ideas create some of the most impactful, thought-provoking, infinitely-shareable articles you’ll ever write.

You know: The kind that attracts the kind of clients, cash, and accolades that makes blogging such a feel-good long-term enterprise in the first place.

And if you need a little help? I’m kicking off a FREE blog writing challenge September 18th — 22nd.

http://thewordshops.co/blog-challenge

It’s called The Blog Party Challenge, it’s $0, and you’ll spend 5 days with me in your inbox and a private Facebook group (where I’ll teach LIVE mini video classes and lead Q&A) brainstorming, outlining, writing, and sharing a post that feels ah-mazing to write and share.

And after we wrap? You’ll be able to follow the same bulletproof process again and again. Because writing brand-building blog posts should never be boring.

In fact — it can be the most gratifying, eye-opening thing you ever do for your own creativity.

So if you’re ready to put your toe back into the blogging waters, or step your current blog game up?

Click here to come join me, and I’ll show you exactly what I mean — and exactly how I write posts like these.

The real (and only) way to find your writing style

The following is an excerpt from my course The Wordshops hitting the virtual airwaves later this month, along with my FREE un-boring blog writing challenge. (Both launching September 2017).

If you want to get your hands on the DIY Wordshop course, and/or apply to join my 4-week copywriting Wordshop incubator, click here to drop me a line and let me know. I’ll put you on the short list.

Back in 2015, when my copywriting course the Wordshops was naught but a wee seed of an idea, I spent a few months interviewing dozens of entrepreneurs about what they wanted to learn most.

Unsurprisingly, the things people wanted to master ran the gambit.

They wanted to figure out how to get comfortable selling. (Check!)

Or how to write the About page of their dreams. (Check aaand check!)

Or how to figure out what their brand voice really is. (I got you!)

Or pin down how to pen a Home or Sales page that felt clear, but also oh-so-sexily presented them as an expert. (Heck yeah I have your back!)

Or they just needed help getting off their butts so they could start writing already. (Mm-hm, I can do that too.)

However, there was one request that was practically universal:

Interviewees requested, sometimes bluntly, sometimes shyly:

“I feel like your writing has so much style. I want to figure out how to write the way you do… for myself.”

And honestly? It gave me pause.

I’ve been writing since I could hold a pen. I scribbled down my first fantasy novel in second grade. I spent most of my teen years scrawling records of my days and crushes and “struggles” into journals and diaries every night and writing fanfiction instead of finishing my Algebra homework.

I’ve been using (read: abusing, with too many ALL CAPS STATEMENTS and photos of my cat) social media since I was a teenager. Then when I began writing copy in 2011, I averaged roughly 50 pages of content week in, week out.

There was never a formula I tried, or a book I read about the subject that offered me any particular kind of “My style is XYZ!” clarity. And I didn’t look for one.

Overall, I focused on writing the way I spoke, and with time my “vibe” and sense of pacing and pros came to fruition.

Tl;dr, I felt like I wrote so much, my style had kind of created itself.

Here’s where it gets tricky though:

Unfortunately, “Just keep writing for years and you’ll figure it out” wasn’t a good response to my hopeful students.

So I spent a few months looking closely at my writing process to figure out why I made the creative choices I made.

And the closer I looked, the clearer my path to style became:

My subconscious mind is soaking in the inspiration I see day in, day out. The books and plays I love, the music, the art, the TV shows, movies, even the commercials I genuinely pay attention to influence me in small ways. (That’s why I include a whole section about “Reverse engineering what inspires you” in the first module of my course.)
My editing process has become more about trimming the fat off ideas than actually reviewing for style and grammar, although I still do plenty of grammar/spell checking, with help from my brilliant editor Autumn Tompkins, a.k.a. The Grumpy Grammarian.
I prioritize pacing over clever wordplay. If my brain stumbles over a sentence or feels “off” reading something, chances are it will feel the same for my audience. So if an “it-sounded-good-in-my-head” idea doesn’t work? I don’t play precious. I ditch it immediately.
I strike “SAT words” from my writing vocabulary. I don’t need people running to the dictionary to make myself feel smarter. Complex ideas delivered in concise, accessible language are infinitely more powerful anyway.
I create my best work when I suspend judgment. If something makes me laugh, or I have an idea that feels quirky, but I sense it would land with my audience? I keep it in, hold my breath, and hit “publish” anyway — even when I’m not 100% confident.
I’ve stopped trying to be for everyone. I talk about this a fair amount, but it bears repeating: You can’t find your writing style if you’re trying to play it safe or squeeze into a tiny box you think you’re supposed to sit in. Dish your real talk. Swear if you want to. Be your weirdest, most wonderful, most whimsical self. That’s what people need — not another robot cranking out the same concepts day in, day out.
Practice, practice, practice makes perfect. The more I write, the clearer my style becomes.

However! Just because it took me a decade to get to a clear style point doesn’t mean you have to follow the same timeline.

Your style is engrained in you already, whether you know it now or not.

The trick is to keep paying attention, and keep writing and creating, so your evolution can be allowed to happen.

What do you love to talk and share about? What lights you up to discuss or debate? What kind of wordplay, and pacing, and pop culture references do you dig most? How do you want to be understood?

And before you tell me “But Hillary! Aren’t I supposed to be writing what my audience wants, instead of what I want?”

Yes… and no.

While you should always focus on delivering value, YOU are a brand! Your audience wants you, baby — the fully realized, loud, proud, undeniable and clear-like-a-tide-pool-on-a-summer-afternoon experience of YOU and your brain and brilliance and braun.

The more pages you create and share, the more you blog and post on social media and talk truth about the work you do, for the people you do it for?

The more visible YOU, as a creator, an expert, and an authority become.

The more undeniable your style will be.

And the more right people will find you — and fall head over heels with every single thing you do.

It’s the best (and only) way there ever was.

—

Don’t worry: I have way more to teach you about this inside The Wordshops, including how to master your pacing and flow, how to write with flair and comedy, and more.

The Wordshops also dive into sales, content structure strategy, voice, and more, so you can craft the creative, converting About, Home, or Sales page of your dreams.

Click here to get on the list for the LIVE or DIY version of the course — and I’ll see you soon. ❤

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