Let’s face it. Seth Godin’s blog is a wondrous thing. It’s consistently No.
1 or No. 2 on the Ad
Age Power 150. More importantly, it’s pure insight. At least once a day,
every day, there’s a little homily on marketing, or brands, or quality, or on
something else that makes you say “hmmm” or “that’s right” or even “that’s
wrong” – but something that’s worth your time.
Do you have any idea how hard this
is? Nobody else does this.
When I contacted Seth to interview
him about his blog, he was bemused. “I don’t know how to bottle what I do,” he
wrote. “I just do it.” OK, let’s admit you cannot imitate Seth – you don’t have
what he’s got under that bald head of his. But I am hoping you can learn by
observing some of what he does. So here goes: an email interview with Seth
Godin about blogging:
The clarity of your posts tells
me that you have a clear idea of your audience and what they will get out of
it. On the other hand, from reading you for years now, it seems you’ll write on
just about any topic. When you write a blog post, who do you imagine writing
for?
There are things we do with words in mind. For example, it's
easy to say, "I wonder what my cousin would like for her birthday, let's
see, she's twelve..." and then go find something. There are other things
we do without vocalizing. Tying your shoes, say, or picking out a bouquet of
flowers.
I don’t sit down and say, “I wonder what Josh needs?”
Instead, I’ve carefully curated a voice in my head that blogs in a way that appears
to resonate with people. I’m guessing (though I have no talent) it’s a lot like
curating a sound on the saxophone. Training helps, listening to records helps,
but mostly you blow a lot until you resonate and then repeat, prune,
experiment, prune, repeat, prune until a groove occurs.
One reason I encourage people to blog is that the act of
doing it stretches your available vocabulary and hones a new voice. You won’t
get it for a while, but you’ll get it. To one person who wrote in and said he
didn’t think he had anything interesting to say, I asked him whether he was
boring in person too? Boring at breakfast? Boring on a date? That boring?!
Probably not.
Every blogger needs grist for the
mill. In looking at your posts, they’re sometimes based on current events or
other people’s blog posts (like your post
on Malcolm Gladwell’s review of Chris Anderson’s book Free) but more often than
not, they are just some freestanding insight. Where does this stuff come from?
I can’t imagine that you sit down and it just comes pouring out. What do you
read/follow/think about that stimulates this stream of insights?
How come some people can visit a place like New York
and see a thousand amazing things, take hundreds of great photos (like Thomas
Hawk) or even write a novel... and other people visit, eat at Applebee’s and
send home a John Lennon postcard?
It's not where you go, it’s what you look for.
An insight a day is an
incredible pace to keep up, but you never seem to miss. Do you write ’em in
bunches and dole them out daily, or do you always have a pile that you’re
working on, or do you really just write one every day?
I write at least one a day. I queue up the extras, and
replace ones I don’t love with a new one. This discipline does two things...
first, it treats each post as a precious opportunity (which it is) and second,
it cajoles me into overcoming whatever little voice in the back of my head
says, “nahhhh.”
Your blog doesn’t sell
ads, and you’ve resisted becoming TechCrunch or ReadWriteWeb and turning it a
sort of blog/destination with multiple writers. But the blog must reward you in
some way beyond the pleasure of writing. What does your blog do for you and
your business?
I have a problem with the second part of the question. Two
problems, actually.
First, why is it that once business gets involved, it’s
assumed it’s okay to do things that aren’t fun or rewarding or kind or
generous, but only things that make money?
And second, why is it assumed that people can’t do
business-like activities without getting paid?
Those guys at AIG getting the big bonuses? I don’t
understand the mindset that says the millions they’ve got aren’t enough, that
they shouldn’t skip a quarter or two, that the work is so horrible and grinding
and deadening that they couldn’t possibly consider doing it just because they’re
great at it and love it...
Sorry for the rant, but the only reason I blog is because I
love it. I love being able to create something that feels like a gift, giving
an idea that spreads, that may improve something for someone. I’m certain (just
speaking for myself) that if I figured out a way to profit from it, I’d
probably be starting down the road to wondering how to maximize that profit,
and if I tried to do that, I’d fail.
For example, I don’t mention Squidoo.com (a company I
started) on my blog now and then because it would make me money (the mentions
have so little impact as to be less than the cost of hosting), I mention it
because I genuinely want to share what I’ve got, or give people a tool they
will benefit from.
I think there’s plenty of room for blogs that exist to pay
the blogger, or blogs that exist to turn a profit. That’s just not the kind of
blog I’m writing, and I’m not the kind of blogger that could do that.
Your blog accepts
trackbacks but no comments. You respond to emails but Twitter only links to
each post. I sense a carefully considered set of decisions here. Can you help
us to understand why it works that way?
What works for me of course won’t work for everyone. But for
me, the issues are distraction, time management, the little voice of self-doubt
and the desire to push through the Dip of mattering. Comments and Twitter are
like a Fresnel lens. You can use them to focus attention if you’re very disciplined
and very good, or, if you’re like me, you’ll end up finding your energy and
attention diffused into a maelstrom, lost to the winds of inanity, anger or
trivia. It’s in my DNA. I can’t do it, just as I can’t read in the car.
For those that are succeeding (and I have to confess, the
number I see isn’t as big as you’d think given all the hoopla) I say mazel tov. To those that are using it as
a defense mechanism, an opportunity to stay busy while not actually doing
anything, I wonder if that’s a good choice.
Like Guy Kawasaki, whose blog is also full of delightful little nuggets,
you could edit and reorganize your blog into a very nice book.
Ever considered it?
Where, exactly, do you think Guy got the idea, Josh?
If I wasn’t the first bestselling author to do this, I was
close. I even won a fancy audiobook award for it. It inspired Scott Adams’ book
too, which is better than mine.
I have another collection coming out along these lines, but
in a different format that I hope to announce soon...
I said before that people
couldn’t imitate you, because they don’t have your software between their ears.
But I bet there is something you’ve learned from blogging that the rest of us
might be better off if we did it, too. Which of your habits should we imitate?
Oh, I think imitating my habits is a great idea. Habits like
blogging often and regularly, writing down the way you think, being clear about
what you think are effective tactics, ignoring the burbling crowd and not
eating bacon. All of these are useful habits.
Thanks for the questions, Josh. This was fun.
