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I’m learning how to accept “the way things are” as the demands on my time grow. I’m uncomfortable with the idea of owing responses and updates to people, but this is an inevitable consequence of providing a valuable service. Sure, it’s possible to mitigate this to a degree but I’m not sure that’s the problem that I should be solving right now.

Instead, I’m adjusting to these demands by ensuring that I mentally frame up my tasks in a healthy way. I don’t recall where I read it recently, but a best practice followed by [insert person whose blog post I read] was that they don’t respond to negative/frantic energy.

This resonates with me quite a bit, as we’ve been conditioned to expect things to happen instantly online and I interact with many customers who frequently (and sometimes frantically) inquire as to the status of the work they’ve ordered. I can drop what I’m doing to talk them off a bridge or rush to deliver the work so they’re placated, but this negatively impacts my workflow and focus and my ability to accomplish the day’s tasks.

So the problem I need to solve is ensuring that my daily workflow is optimized and that expectations are set properly (among half a dozen other things) rather than trying to please one person which does a disservice to myself and other customers.

I’ve known about this for months, so I’m thrilled to finally share the news: My friend Michael has written the official Shark Tank book, and it’s available for pre-order on Amazon right now.

The book is available on November 5th and word on the street is that there will be a party in NYC when it drops. Better keep an eye out for details.

Reminder to myself: successful people manage to get their important work done (growing the business, innovation, streamlining) every day in addition to dealing with the distractions that destroy a normal person’s productivity.

[h/t @w3edge]

Maybe you should. Maybe you shouldn’t, I don’t know.

What I try to take into consideration is my pride, risk, motivation, what the outcome actually looks like if I get what I want, and what the total cost of ownership for me “winning” is.

I don’t believe there’s a formula for determining when it’s best to fight for something, but life experience helps, as does being proactive about decision-making as opposed to letting things just happen (as a result of time running out).

As I transitioned from Atlanta-based freelancer to New York based freelancer-slash-Domino-Project-accomplice, I noticed my profile growing. From emails to tweets to comments made in person by new acquaintances, people uniformly considered me to be cooler than I was. It was great.

It also became apparent that I could capitalize on the attention to grow my profile at an even greater pace if desired. I was working for one of my heroes, after all! Seth-freaking-Godin! But I decided that I wanted to let my actual accomplishments speak for me rather than the fact that I had been picked.

Well. That’s part of it.

It was a conscious decision, yes, but not one that was solely rooted in modesty: I’m something of an introvert. Not a good one, mind you, as I enjoy and am comfortable with being on stage (literally and figuratively). But an introvert nonetheless, and I have a tendency to downplay things.

I don’t think there’s anything particularly noble about this, and there are certainly cases where unnecessary modesty can be a hinderance to progress. [Particularly in the case of first impressions in a business networking context, quickly demonstrating relevant value can mean the difference between winning a contract or just meeting another person whose name you instantly forgot.]

A friend of mine expressed some regret in not capitalizing on the attention thrust upon he and his wife when they received some national press for winning a contest. Had they jumped head first into the attention with the proper strategy, it probably would have changed their lives. There’s nothing wrong with a little celebrity.

On the other end of the spectrum is people who grow their profile aggressively.

Again, there’s nothing inherently wrong with this, but there are certainly ways to get it wrong. I’ve seen this a lot in New York where ambitious acquaintances would leave a trail of bruised feelings in their wake when friends felt used or stepped on/over or outgrown as the next level of success was reached. Not pretty.

I don’t think it’s practical to maintain close personal relationships with everyone you consider a friend, and I also think outgrowing some relationships is a sign of growth. But you do have to remain mindful of how your decisions impact your relationships and reputation, even if your position is indifference.

So again, this isn’t so much a right vs. wrong consideration so much as a series of decisions wherein the methods and motivation matter greatly.

It’s easy to get swept up in the current of the popular opinion. Ideas get passed and retweeted and shared through the social web with very little friction.

But while the majority of the idea-consuming masses race to present the latest regurgitated idea to those whose attention they hold, it’s our responsibility as thinkers and leaders to set the trends that get discussed.

We don’t do this for the sake of being talked about, we do it because we must. Who better than you?

When I observe the technologies and inventions that are moving industries forward, it’s evident that intense next-order critical thinking has taken place.

Your ideas might need to incubate and develop in a way that prevents you from publishing a quick tweet or status update about it, but that’s the point.

Pillars, not pebbles.

The difference between good writing and great writing is dramatic.

Putting together words on a page isn’t particularly challenging, but making words leap from a page and transporting the reader to the destination of your choice requires both a strong command of language and thousands of hours of practice.

I can tell when I’m in the flow of good writing because it feels less like tapping keys and more like playing an instrument. Ideas take shape and get chiseled into prose with what feels like effortless, dancing keystrokes. And the editing process feels less like work and more like polishing.

This isn’t to say that I’ve arrived as a writer, but I can certainly see improvement over the years. As a matter of fact, I cringe when reading some of my old posts so perhaps I’ve gone from abysmal to decent. Growth is growth, leave me alone.

Artists who have mastered their craft take the mechanics of their work and create an experience with it. Atop the mechanics sit passion and empathy and storytelling and taste and style.

Unnecessary elements are removed (or never get included) so once the finished product is shipped, the signal is clear and makes contact with the world in a powerful way.