Just Do the Next Thing

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I often think about Charlie Brill and Mitzi McCall. If you aren’t familiar with the married comedy duo, it’s not surprising. They were the act who followed the Beatles on the Ed Sullivan Show back in 1964. How could you possibly follow that?!? Thankfully, Justin Bieber didn’t recently make Linux training videos that I have to follow. But the thing is, this past week has been a surprisingly good week with regard to the things I’m creating being appreciated by other humans. (And maybe robots, I’m ok with that. Meep morp, y’all. How ’bout those electrons, am I right?)

The problem is, one success feels like setting the bar for the next thing. And a big success makes for a really high bar.

After this blog was shared by a super popular friend of mine on Twitter (the same friend who often shares my comic… he’s basically my ex-naval fairy godmother), and then one of my youtube videos was showcased in a Hackaday article by another friend, the traffic and popularity of my stuff has stepped up a bit. No, I’m not an influencer, or a YouTube celebrity, or parking a Tesla in my garage… (or, you know, having a garage) — but I crossed the monetization threshold on YouTube (the process of which apparently takes about a month, and then I could make DOZENS of cents a day!) I was sent a tech product to review without me asking or buying it, and there are actual conversations happening in the comment sections of my stuff.

OMG, I’m Too Good Looking, and My Wallet is Too Fat…

I know, I know. Complaining about a modicum of success is pretty douchey. I mean, isn’t being successful exactly what I’m intending to do with all this writing and newslettering and podcasting and videoing and cartooning and… everything? And Shawn, if you can’t handle a video getting 1000 views without feeling overwhelmed, you’d better hope you never actually make it big.

And yeah, I get all that. And I do hope the success continues. Heck, my lofty aspirations include the need and ability to actually hire people to join me in my endeavors. The problem I’m mulling over now is that I find it difficult to do the next thing when the last thing was deemed “worthy and good” by the masses. I think as humans (or robots, still love you guys) we tend to look at a very narrow slice of time. Heck, we practice “living in the present” as a way to stay healthy in mind and body. But the road to success is long. For some of us, very long. And while intellectually I understand a video that gets 10,000 views isn’t 100 times better than a video that gets 100 views, it sure feels that way. Let me get very specific. I’ll use my YouTube channel as the example, because this week has some prime examples of what I’m talking about.

The Hackaday Debacle of Awesomeness

One of the many things I do, is to occasionally co-host on FLOSS Weekly over at TWiT.tv. One of the OTHER occasional co-hosts is Jonathan Bennett. We don’t know each other in meat-space, but I consider him a friend, and if we were at a tech conference, we’d totally hang out and be nerdy. Anyway, he’s a writer at Hackaday.com — and last week he included my SSH Tunnels video in an article he wrote. It sent a flood of users to my tiny YouTube channel, and quickly elevated that video to like 7,000 views in the first week. Most of my videos get about 100 views in that timeframe. It also brought in lots of new eyeballs, who subscribed to my channel, which increased the views on my other videos, and there was a snowball effect that gave my tiny channel a boost.

Again, my channel is small. We’re not talking fame and fortune, we’re talking a cool growth acceleration. Like I mentioned above, it even bumped me over the monetization threshold, so that approval process started.

But HERE is the crux of the situation. My brain tells me that SSH Tunnelling video must have been the cream of my video crop. THAT VIDEO is what will breed more success. Whatever I did there is what I need to do every time, and improve on. Because for some reason, my brain says, “This is a video of a creator that has 3,000 subscribers. If you want to increase to 5,000 subscribers, you clearly need a video that’s about twice as good.”

Now I KNOW that’s not how it actually works. Heck, even my observation of older videos getting more views proves that it’s not a single video that raises the bar of adequacy. But as I often point out, brains are not logical. They’re emotional, fickle, jiggly think-meats which assume the worst and never appreciate the best. And so, I didn’t make another video that whole week. The week where I was getting more and more people interested in my channel and my content. I was crippled with fear that I’d release a video that wasn’t better than the SSH Tunnel video. And people would know that the apparent “star quality content” was a fluke.

Brains suck. (I actually accidentally typed “Brians suck”, and autocorrect was just going to let me insult innocent Brians everywhere. C’mon robots, I thought we were friends?!?)

The week went by, and the popularity boom waned. I still garnered quite a few new subscribers, which was incredible, but instead of riding that incoming wave, I floundered and released no new content. On Friday, I felt so terrible about not releasing anything, that I threw together a video on Linux Certifications, and posted it. I figured it would flop, but at least I was trying. (That video is honestly doing really well, which is weird, because it hasn’t been boosted by anything external. So who knows.)

So What Have You Learned, Shawn?

Honestly? I have no idea. Here’s the thing though — it’s pretty common with anyone who gets a bump of success, that they struggle with their next endeavor. One-hit wonders, authors who write a successful book, middle-aged men who get a compliment on how their hair looks… we all flounder with how to meet or exceed whatever we did that was deemed “good”.

The only advice I really have is that maybe we shouldn’t try to outdo ourselves. Just like it’s unhealthy to compare our success to other people, comparing ourselves to the most successful thing we’ve done is just silly. I’m just as good as that guy who made the SSH Tunnel video, because I’m that guy. I wasn’t trying to specifically make a stand-out creation, I was just doing what I love. Greatness isn’t a thing we do, it’s the way we do the things we do. Trying hard to be a more perfect self seems silly. We’re already exactly ourselves.

So just do the next thing. And in the words of Paul McCartney, Let it Be.

Doing One Thing Well, or Not

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When I started this “be a professional creator full time” adventure at the start of 2022, I got lots of advice. And as a quick recap for those who don’t know about my “Big Year” (sans birds), which is honestly most of you, because I didn’t really shout about it from the mountain tops, here’s the deal:

For the past decade plus, I’ve been a trainer for CBT Nuggets. Many of my videos are still in their catalog, and most people would have no idea I’m not working there anymore. I’m currently a full time sysadmin managing a bunch of Linux systems in various datacenters around the western US. But a couple things made me want to do more than just my DayJob.

  • The pandemic proved that jobs are not a sure thing. So many folks were laid off, or lost their jobs entirely, it was a scary wakeup call. A single income stream, even a really good stream, is scary if it might disappear.
  • I really really miss making training videos.
  • I really really miss writing for Linux Journal.
  • My kids are grown now, so I have a little more time on my hands.
  • My kids are grown now, and they’re currently trying to survive in an economy where surviving, much less thriving, is difficult. I want to set an example on how to diversify income.

Anyway, for those reasons and probably more, I decided to go “all in” for the entire 2022 calendar year. I still have a DayJob, so this means lots of after-work work. But again, it’s a good time in my life for that sort of thing. I’m not missing anyone’s basketball games, etc. As of right now, I’m about a third of the way through the year, and I’ve learned a few things.

There’s no Right Way, but Lots of Wrong Ways

My biggest focus thus far has been with YouTube. Yes, a 46 year old man becoming a “YouTuber” seems like a sad sort of midlife crisis, but I actually have a lot of experience making videos. And I’m a bit of a camera whore (I really like being on camera/mic). So YouTube actually makes a lot of sense. But oh my goodness are there nuances with the platform. For example:

You Must be Genuine

I think I do OK with this one. I’m not good at being fake. But… I’m a fairly weird dude, so maybe I should strive to be genuinely Ryan Reynolds… but Ryan Reynolds already does that, so y’all are stuck with me. Seriously though, I think people assume that unless they’re super charismatic, they’re too boring. That’s honestly just not the case. I’m a pretty boring guy. But when I’m passionate or excited about something, that’s when I light up. And everyone is like that about something. I tend to get excited about a LOT of things (more on that later), but the common adage to, “write what you know” works for YouTube as well. When you’re excited about something, that passion is contagious.

You Must be Unique

This is really a carryover from the previous point. If you’re genuine, you’re unique. Because no one else is like you. When I started taking YouTube seriously, it was tempting to emulate other successful people on the platform. There is some value to seeing what works and doesn’t work but it’s important to only emulate what they do, and not who they are. It’s hard to be genuine or unique if you’re trying to be just like someone else.

Those two “rules” are the most important, at least I think so. Look, I’m not a professional at YouTube, and this isn’t an article on how to be a YouTuber, but I think without following those two ideals, it’s impossible to be happy as a content creator. The next points are important to be a financially successful YouTuber though. And I like them much less. 🙂

You Must be Specific

This is the whole idea of “niching down” on a subject. The narrower you focus your content, the more people you draw in. This seems backward, because a broader array of topics would capture the interests of more people. You know, a bigger net catches more fish. But since there are an almost infinite number of YouTube channels, people tend to gravitate toward the ones where every video hits their sweet spot. If you branch out, the number of people your particular eclectic tastes match will dwindle quickly.

For example, a few of my passions are Linux, A/V equipment, Birdwatching, Renewable Energy, and Kool-Aid. Any one of those subjects might resonate with people. But if I made a YouTube channel with all those topics? Very few people would subscribe, because while they might like one or two of those subjects, they’d get annoyed by videos popping up in their feed on the less desirable topics. So, they look for a channel that has videos on their specific likes, and subscribe to multiple channels. So a person with my particular tastes would subscribe to a Linux channel, a birdwatching channel, a few A/V review channels, and an 80’s retro beverage channel.

That’s difficult for me. Because while I intellectually understand why having a specific niche is vital for YouTube success, it feels very limiting. And honestly, I get bored. Even if it’s one of my passions, if I don’t feed the other beasts in my head, they get restless. And that is sorta where the point of this whole post is going. Because the last “rule” of YouTube is…

You Must be Consistent

Oddly enough, posting videos every day isn’t 7 times better than posting once a week. Sure, you get marginally more views, but more importantly than number of videos you produce is the consistency with which you produce them. But honestly, even this is extremely flexible.

The consistency you MUST strive for is having consistently good content. Releasing regularly is also good, but not as important as having consistently good quality videos. And look, what “good quality” means is very much up for debate and evolution. For example, most people agree that having music in videos keeps people watching. But… I generally don’t, because it feels contrived for my style. I just talk into a camera, demo stuff, and try to teach complicated topics in a way that makes them easy to understand. A soundtrack seems to detract from that, so at least for now, I don’t add music.

Bonus Must: Audio

This isn’t YouTube specific, but just a tip for anyone making video. People will look past questionable video quality (to a point), but audio quality is king. If you’re going to spend money, spend it on a microphone first.

So What’s My Point?

I started the year making lots of videos in pretty short order. That was partly due to me really missing the training process. But also, I wanted to have a backlog of videos in place that new viewers could “binge” and get a taste for my style. So I worked hard to get a full “Linux Essentials” course created, making multiple videos a week, and publishing them in rapid succession. But that came at a cost.

At a mere 2 months in, I started to feel some burnout. This is not because I don’t enjoy teaching, or because videos aren’t interesting. It’s because some of those YouTube rules above are really oppressive. I understand my YouTube channel needs to be mostly Linux focused. But as a person, *I* can’t be all Linux focused all the time. So while the idea of doing one thing and doing it well is good advice, when it comes to creativity, it doesn’t always work. My inability to be disingenuous works against me here. If I’m genuinely miserable doing one thing, that one thing I’m doing will be a miserable version of the thing.

I Need More Irons, and More Fire

Toward the beginning of my “Big Year”, I tried to follow the standard advice of not having too many irons in the fire. If I do lots of things, it spreads my time and talent thin, so everything will be mediocre at best. And even reading that last sentence, it makes sense. But human meat sacks don’t always follow logical rules. I’m starting to discover that if I don’t put lots of irons in lots of fires, my one big fire will burn out. I know that is stretching the metaphor hard, but basically, I can’t focus all my energy on one thing or that thing suffers.

So as I enter the second trimester of the year, I’ve decided that I need to do more things. Even if I do those things a little less regularly, the things should end up being better in general. This rekindling of my blog is a prime example. I miss writing regularly, and the best way to scratch that itch is to write. Where better to write than in my own personal blog, where the only rules are ones I make up? I’m doing other things too, and will probably write about them here eventually, but off the top of my head:

  • Reading this blog as a “blogcast”, which is a word I made up. I think. It’s like a podcast, but is just me reading these words out loud.
  • Reviewing things on my review site.
  • Adding a video aspect to those reviews, probably on a new YouTube channel (not yet created).
  • Video blogging on a secondary YouTube channel (INSIDE The Brain of Shawn)
  • Speaking at events (virtually for now)
  • Drawing my comic
  • Learning Spanish
  • Constructing a micro datacenter at my farm
  • Trying to go outside more

My point is, rules are important, but they should always be examined and revised. Plus, the definition of success varies for the individual. I hope this “Big Year” of mine proves to be the start in a life long pursuit of passions and revenue streams. But if at the end of 2022 I discover that I really don’t like the whole “be a creator” thing? That’s valuable too. I’d rather be absolutely certain I don’t like something, than forever wonder what could have been.

Learn everything. Do what you love. And most importantly, be kind.

Jelly is Lonely

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And of course I mean jelly people are lonely. Jealous people, that is. Actual jelly people are never lonely because they’re sweet and sticky, and people either want to lick them, or are stuck to them. And that’s weird, so I’m gonna stop.

Sometimes it’s easy to avoid being jealous of someone. Particularly when they’re really good at something that you are super bad at. For example, I am not jealous of:

  • Olympic athletes
  • Basketball players (Olympic or otherwise)
  • Professional cake decorators
  • People with exotic taxidermy collections
  • Cave divers
  • Antique furniture collectors

Ok, it’s beginning to occur to me that it’s easy to avoid being jealous of someone who is good at something you don’t want to do, regardless of skill level. But I still argue it’s easier to resist jealousy when someone else is really good at something I’m bad at doing. Here are some more examples, these I’m maybe envious of, not not really jealous:

  • People who can draw
    • (Yes, I see the irony and/or hypocrisy because I literally draw a web comic, but it doesn’t mean I can actually draw — just that I’m unwilling to let my lack of skill stop me…)
  • Really good photographers
  • People who understand how semicolons work
  • Physically attractive folks
  • Singers who can melt your soul with their voices. (I’m looking at you, every member of my immediate family)

And then there’s jealousy of possessions, which isn’t really about the person who has the stuff, but more about your own lack of stuff. Maybe this is covetousness? I think that’s just another flavor of jealousy though, so it counts even if it’s a bit different. And we don’t really need a whole list, because it’s usually:

  • People with money
  • The things people with money have and do

And I really can’t help with that last list, because wanting more and more and more is a much deeper issue, and I think it’s rarely solved by actually attaining those things. Although, having more money is honestly usually nicer than being poor. So while it might not be the solution to all life’s problems, it’s nice to have central air and a heated garage than to not have those things. (Or so I assume, I have neither) But that middle list of things you wish you could do, but other people are better can get ugly pretty quick.

If you are good at something, or you are trying to do well at something, and someone else is MUCH better than you at it — it’s easy to get bitterly jealous. Especially when the other person is able to accomplish such things with minimal effort. And no, I’m not talking about people who work hard for years and then get accused of being overnight successes when they finally make it big. I mean those people who are like, “Oh wow, I’ve never even tried waterskiing before. Check out this sick flip!” Thankfully those people are rare, and nobody likes them. Nobody likes you Dave…

Take my friend Jim, for instance. Jim and I actually have a lot in common. We’re both old, we’re both grumpy, we’re both incredibly unattractive.

Ok, that went sideways. Lemme try again. Jim and I have quite a bit in common. We’re both writers. We both like taking photos of birds. We both want to support ourselves and our loved ones using our creative abilities.

And Jim posts photos like this. ALL THE FRIGGEN TIME. And he’s able to support himself using various creativity-based revenue streams. And he can grow a real moustache. It would be easy for me to be jealous of what he’s accomplished. Even though I know he’s worked for YEARS to build the skill required to do what he does.

Because jealousy isn’t rational. And it’s not even about the other person. Jealousy is frustration and disappointment in yourself and your situation. And to come back to my original point — jealousy is very lonely. And I use Jim as an example here, because I’m not actually jealous of his accomplishments. I’m honestly super happy for him. But there are people who turn me green on a regular basis.

I’m not going to specifically mention any of them here, because giving light to those demons only makes them stronger. And some folks might tell me, “oh you’re so much better than them, they suck” — or, “you shouldn’t compare yourself to other people”, and those responses aren’t really helpful even if they are true. Friggen Dave. Because jealousy isn’t rational. So what I do, and what I recommend everyone consider their own version of, is to steal from those people.

I should probably elaborate.

How to Steal Like a Winner

The nice thing about other people getting successful before you, is that you can learn from all the bad choices they made along the way. This actually works for both those people you’re jealous of, and those you’re not. For example, if he could do it over again, Jim would probably never befriend that annoying guy from Michigan. *ahem*ME*ahem* Seriously though, there are so many things I’ve learned from Jim’s success. The frustrations of social media platforms, the importance of personal online security (he gets death threats on the regular), how important it is to disregard hateful feedback, etc. Heck even his moustache — he taught me how to blow my nose when I grew my own sad face-caterpillar.

I have several friends who have published books. Some have self-published, some have used traditional publishing, and some have used multiple methods AND multiple publishers. I have very smart and successful friends. But even though I haven’t written a book yet — I already know the pros and cons of each method, and I know what publisher I absolutely wouldn’t use even if they wanted me. No, I won’t tell you the company. But you can still learn from my thievery — before you agree to publish with a company, talk to some authors who have already worked with them.

I’ve been hitting YouTube pretty hard recently, and the nature of YouTube means you can see the progression of successful creators as they build their channels. I know a few personally, but even if you don’t know the individual people, you can see what things work for them and what things don’t. This one has been invaluable for me. Because I’ve learned that I really hate the “narrow niche” required for YouTube success. That doesn’t mean I can’t be successful on YouTube, but it means I have to put energies elsewhere too. This blog, for instance. And my review blog. And various podcasts I contribute to. And secondary YouTube channels. And silly tweets. And web comics. All of those things help me to “niche down” on my main YouTube channel without feeling like I’m stifling myself. I wouldn’t have known any of that if I didn’t watch other successful creators and how they managed to be successful.

We can learn so much from those who are ahead of us. Even if they leapfrogged us getting there. From people I don’t like, I learn what not to do. And from those I strive to emulate, I learn from their successes and their failures. Heck, in many ways it’s better to let other people blaze the trail so it’s easier for us to get where they are going. But even that isn’t the healthiest way, in my opinion, to deal with jealousy.

Just. Enjoy. The. Beauty.

This isn’t as difficult as it sounds. If we can focus on appreciating how well other people do things, we can pretty quickly turn our jealousy into admiration. This even works if the people don’t “deserve it” in your opinion. Thank goodness they got lucky, right? Otherwise they’d be struggling forever. Those photos you wish you could take? Hey, you’re getting to look at them. Photos can be magical, and sure, being able to take them is incredible — but you still get to experience the magic first hand when you look at someone else’s work.

We already do this. Have you ever watched the Olympics? We are SO excited for those athletes who have devoted their lives to excellence. We will never be as good at their craft as they are, but that’s OK, we get to see them be great. That isn’t reserved for olympians. Are you jealous of Miley Cyrus’ voice? Maybe instead focus on how great it is to hear her sing. Do you wish you could dance like… um… I don’t really know any dancers. But if you have a dancing person in mind, isn’t it great to see them dance?

The point is, jealousy is a very strong emotion. But many times it’s easy to flip that strong negative emotion to admiration, which is a strong positive one. And that makes you a better person. One that someone might, you know, admire. 🙂

I Love You, Uhh… Thank You.

It’s a funny trope in sitcoms. One person is in love with another person, and so they confess their love, only to be given a “Thank You” in reply. We cringe. We hurt for the confessor, and we feel bad for the one not in love. We are also impressed by the thanker, because it would have been easier to lie and say they too were in love, letting FutureThem deal with the fallout.

But it’s awkward. That is undeniable.

Thankfully, I found my person over 25 years ago. I love her, she loves me (and I’m really lucky she does, because I can be a LOT, y’all). But if we take that situation down a notch, I suspect there are many more mismatches. ESPECIALLY when introverts like myself are in play. Let me elaborate…

There are probably 5 people who I consider my very best friends. Then maybe a dozen who are way more than acquaintances, and I consider close friends. The next group in my expanding circle of indifference (is it a circle of indifference if the ones I care about the most are in the middle? Maybe it’s my circle of fading “difference”? But “difference” does not feel like the opposite of indifference, so maybe I’m using terrible words here. And because some of my friends read my blogs via translator to their native language, I have NO idea what this will imply because now I’m confused in English. And English is the only language I’m moderately confident with…)

I’ve decided to abandon the notion of an expanding circle, and I’ve decided to abandon that entire paragraph. My new geometric metaphor will be a pyramid. OK, in my head it’s actually a triangle, but since it will be stacks of friends, I’m not sure how they’d stand in a two dimensional stack, but I also don’t have NEARLY enough friends for a pyramid of people. But basically there are five or so people on the tippy top of my FriendAngleMid. Beneath them, are probably a dozen people who are close friends. These people I’m usually very comfortable around. Being with them doesn’t drain me emotionally. (Well, if I were with ALL of them at once, it would be horrible, and I’d be hiding in the bathroom texting my 5 cake-topper friends about how miserable I was at this stupid party I should have never thrown for my cat…)

Anyway. The next layer (we’re doing cake now, please keep up) is larger, and actually sort of fluid (not like we’re changing metaphors again, I mean they aren’t a solid group of people I could list). These are the people I don’t think about on a daily basis, but when I am near them, or interact with them, it’s enjoyable and I’m glad they’re in my life. Honestly, this is a large group. But because my brain is kind of a jerk, I couldn’t possibly name them all, because here’s the thing — when I’m with people in this group, they BECOME part of the dozen or so top-cake-layer friends. It’s weird, but this group of people is really really great. And I enjoy being with them and talking to them at least as much as my top layer friends. In fact, because I’m not with them often, in the moment, they’re pretty much temporary cake toppers. And not “pretend” cake toppers, but actual, bonafide Smurf figurines on top of my friend cake, celebrating our time together.

This is not the direction I thought this blog post was going. (I’m very happy with the cake metaphor though, we’re keeping that. Even though I’m more of an ice cream person. OH, and sprinkles would be perfect for the topper metaphor, except I want way more than 5 sprinkles… So we’re sticking with cake. Maybe Donna can be the ice cream. Because she’s like the ice cream, my favorite part — PLUS sprinkles, which makes ice cream even better. Yes. Donna is the ice cream, and she is COVERED in sprinkles.)

NOTE: This is why when I write professionally, I have an editor. Jill — I’m so sorry this is going to press. And I know you’re not technically my editor anymore, but you’re the only editor I’ve ever had, so when I think of an editor, it’s always you. Don’t get creeped out, I CLEARLY never think of editing. (Except I do, and I miss working with you, and OMG we should totally play on top of the cake metaphor soon.)

So, anyway most of the people I consider my friends are in that huge group of people that most people would call acquaintances. But I don’t consider them that, because I really, truly do love the people in that huge group. And in the moments I get to interact with them, I’m fully engaged, and fully real, and wouldn’t rather be anywhere else in the world. It takes emotional energy to spend time with these people, but it’s energy well spent. It’s like the reason I keep as much energy available as possible, because exhaustion from spending time with people you love is the BEST type of exhaustion.

It’s those people that make me both happy and sad in equal measures. I want them to be in my top cake layer, but I don’t interact with them often enough for me to feel comfortable leaning on them. They don’t know me well enough (very likely my fault) to lean on me when things get difficult. I WOULD totally be there if/when they need me, and I’m pretty sure they would be there for me — but again, I’m so bad at letting my guard down, that most people I consider friends don’t fully know me, and in turn, I don’t fully know them. And maybe that’s just how things work. We can’t have 1000 besties. Yet, to say these people are “less good” friends is just not true. Friendship is weird, and I’m not terribly good at it anyway. So perhaps I don’t really have any friends, and I just have human interactions, sorta. But I’m just gonna stick to my cake metaphor and say that the bottom layers of my friendship cake has a LOT of wonderfully sweet layers.

Oh, acquaintances. For me, these are people I tolerate, and I’m friend-LY with, but they’re the people with which I’d probably talk about the weather. (And not awesome weather conversations, just generic crap) These people are the raisins in our cake. They’re not like finding an eggshell in the batter, but you avoid them if you can.

And I’ll close with what I was going to write about in the first place. For introverts like myself, especially those of us who spend most of our time interacting online — it’s almost certain that my cake-topper friends, and my top-layer friends have no idea where they reside on my friendship cake. And I am very unlikely to be on the cake top of many people, or honestly even in their top layer. And that’s OK. Relationships don’t have be built on equal significance. People have different amounts of energy they can invest, and as long as the friendships work for both parties, it’s usually OK. Sometimes there is pain when we discover we don’t live on each other’s cakes at the same layer, but since everyone’s cake is different, direct comparisons don’t even make sense.

My only request is that you not pretend your raisins are sprinkles. Don’t lead raisins on. Be kind to them, but don’t make empty promises about how much we should “totally get together and make raisin bread soon”. It really hurts to discover you’re a raisin when you thought you were a cake topper.

Now I’m hungry. But not for raisins. They’re gross.

PS: Please don’t tell me where I live on your cake. Plus, out of context, that’s a really weird thing to tell someone. And I won’t tell you where you live on my cake either. But unless you’re a raisin, whenever we interact, you’re playing on top of the cake anyway. 🙂

Internet Sin Ingles

I have many legitimate friends whom I’ve never met in person. Some of my very best friends are a group of folks who met online and have remained close for well over a decade. There was a time when that was considered a naive misunderstanding of friendship, but I’m happy to say it’s slowly becoming more and more common. (This is not to imply catfishing is no longer an issue, or that you should blindly trust people online — but rather a simple statement that technology has given us the ability to foster real, lifelong friendships with people we only interact with digitally)

ANYWAY, one of my online friends is Luis. I won’t link to him, because he may not desire random people stalking him online, but nevertheless he’s someone I consider a close friend. Luis lives in Portugal. As I started writing this, I tried to remember how we met. And I honestly can’t remember. Maybe through Linux Journal? It doesn’t really matter, because now we’re just nerdy friends who happen to live on opposite sides of the planet. We often send each other links or thoughts about cultural differences, because we’re both fascinated by such things. And whether we’re sending memes about the metric system (and how silly it is we don’t use it in the States), or having real conversations about difficult political issues, Luis always sees me as a person and not a stereotype. I appreciate that.

Yesterday, Luis sent me to a website that links to a cool interactive map you can drag around to see what countries/cities line up with other countries/cities based on latitude. The site was not in English. Mind you, Luis speaks English fluently, but it’s not his native language, so it makes sense he would visit sites that are not English. He even noted that I should run the site though a translator because it was cool enough to warrant the effort. (And it was, he was right) But here’s the thing — I had no idea how to do that.

I’ve translated words and phrases with Google Translate plenty of times. (Heck, I double-checked the title of this post just to make sure my early elementary level Spanish was correct. And I’m sure it’s slightly different in Portuguese, but I’m struggling with my Spanish on Duolingo, I can’t add another language yet, lol.) But any time I’ve stumbled across a non-English website, my browser popped up a little “Hey white boy, you wanna see this page in English?” button and I could just click and see the page rendered in English. But this page did not trigger my browser to offer me this hand-holding. And I honestly didn’t know what to do.

After a bit of googling, I discovered that I could simply right click anywhere on the page, and there was a “Translate to English” option which instantly made the site readable. And then I could play with the interactive map (which itself was actually on an English website, go figure). But it was another reminder that as a straight white male, living in the US, I’m really playing the game of life on the easiest level. No, that doesn’t mean my demographic can’t have struggles — it just means I don’t ALSO have hurdles of race, gender, language, etc. to manage along with the life situations I find myself in. Heck, translating web pages in order to read them is something I NEVER need to think about. And realizing that’s a privilege is one step toward a friendlier world.

I appreciate you, Luis. Your friendship makes me a better person. 🙂

Monetization Sucks Beans

There’s a bitter sort of irony that people who enjoy selling things are rarely the people you want to give money, and those folks who deserve your money are cripplingly uncomfortable receiving, much less asking, for it. Mind you, this is a terribly generic take, which (might) be true for the majority of situations, but has so many exceptions it’s bordering on a trope or stereotype. So before you skip to the comments and call me a fool — lemme break down what I mean just a bit.

The sort of predatory salespeople we often (unfairly) associate with the “used car salesman” label, are not the most effective salespeople. The problem is, they’re moderately successful. That moderate success is built on narcissism, deception, selfishness, and a complete lack of empathy. They’ll encourage, and even push you to buy more than you need, and manipulate you to pay as much as they can get you to pay. The worse they screw you over, the better they feel they did — and so they’re self-motivated to be just the worst people ever. There are “crafty” versions of these salespeople, who wear the guise of giving a crap about you, but are really just more subtle about pushing those limits, and at the end of the day are only nice because it might benefit them in the long run. (referrals, repeat purchases, etc)

There are genuinely customer-focused salespeople. And oddly enough, they are the most successful type. The great irony here is that on a per-purchase basis, they are likely to make less profit. Yet, in number of sales, repeat customers, referrals, longevity, and countless other non-monetary metrics, they are far more successful than the smarmy, pushy salesforce. These salespeople are rare, and since the “crafty” salespeople mentioned above often appear to be this way — it’s difficult to find them, especially at first. But my hot take on the nuances of the psychology of sales is not what this post is about. I’m just avoiding the main point, because it’s awkward.

Beholden to NO ONE!!!

Some monetization is easy. Sorta. For example, early on (too early, honestly) in my web-comic-drawing-days, I commissioned a stuffed animal of Spot, one of the characters. I have those plushies for sale, and accepting money for them does not feel icky, because I paid for them. (I actually paid WAY too much for them, because I could only afford a limited run, and as such they cost way too much per unit, and so I sell them at cost plus a few bucks for shipping, and even then they’re way too expensive, but I digress.) I paid for them. I mark them up slightly (or not, see above), and I sell them to you. You have a tangible thing that you paid an amount of money to get.

Monetizing creativity, however, gets complicated and icky really quick. For a vast number of reasons. Let’s look at a few…

1: Creative Direction

Let’s say you decide to support my webcomic with a monthly subscription on Ko-Fi or Patreon. If I have tiers of rewards for patrons, it’s a little easier to get a sense of transactional value from your monthly donation. Maybe you see comics a day early. Maybe you get access to livestreams of me drawing. Maybe you get to see comics where Blue says swear words. Who knows. But with that sort of a system, I’d feel a little better knowing you have a transactional value for your donations. It means I have to adjust my creative endeavors in order to accommodate those things — but it works.

But most “lowest tier” support models are just a “big thank you” for supporting. And honestly, I don’t have tiered rewards set up, so if you support me (I have 1 supporter currently, at $4/month), you get nothing but a warm fuzzy feeling when you see Spot befriend a porcupine. BUT… because you’re giving me money, you might feel a bit of ownership over the comic. And that’s not entirely unfair of you. You’re helping make the comic happen, and shouldn’t you have some say on what does or doesn’t happen? Mostly no, of course, but it sorta *feels* like you should, doesn’t it?

This is far more pronounced with something like YouTube. If you’re supporting me with a YouTube Membership (I’m not eligible for monetization of any sort on YouTube yet, so don’t go try), and you’d like me to make more videos on shell scripting, and fewer videos on Kool-Aid taste tests — you might really feel like your opinion matters. And in that case, it really might matter. I mean, you’re paying me because you like the stuff I create. It’s pretty easy to feel comfortable requesting I make things that you like more often, since you’re literally paying me money. And since I’m an individual creator instead of a faceless corporate entity (like, Netflix for instance) — it’s in my best interest financially to listen to you. So… it gets messy.

2: Selling Out

If a creative person creates for money rather than the art itself, doesn’t that make them a sellout?!? WHAT ABOUT THE ART, MAN? Well… the “starving artist” trope is old and worn out, in my opinion. Plus it’s not even accurate. Have you heard of the Sistine Chapel? That ceiling was painted on commission, paid for by the Pope. Was Michelangelo a sellout? Maybe. Did that mean his art was any less art-sy? I’d venture no. It was probably better than it would have been if he couldn’t afford sandwiches for his lunch breaks. So while taking money in return for art doesn’t really make it less genuine or pure — it sorta feels icky. For some reason, if our motivation is to get paid, it often feels (and appears) like we’re only doing it because we’re getting paid. Which, is true. But is that bad? I mean, it shouldn’t be bad, but it feels like it is. Or it feels like it should be. Or… it’s very confusing, but it’s an issue creative folks have to work through.

Then, as if that whole situation weren’t complex enough, add to it the odd personal struggle many artists have with devaluing themselves and their work. It’s hard to charge a living wage when you feel like what you make isn’t work anything. Again, this disfunction isn’t true of all artists, but it’s really super mega common, and not just due to mental illness or abuse. When a creative person is creating, they’re just doing what they do. It *feels* like something anyone can do, or something that lots of people could do much, much better. (Look at my comic, y’all… if you love it, it’s not due to my amazing art skillz. Or, at least in my head there’s no way it’s because of my art skills)

So either what we do isn’t worth real money, or if we take money, we’re not doing it for the right reasons, or if we do take money we’re just shills trying to make a buck doing something that isn’t real work anyway. I guess what I’m saying is, monetizing creative endeavors is complicated. And often feels icky. And also often, it’s not something the actual creative people are good at doing even if they’re OK with doing it.

3: Being Flaky

Sometimes I can’t create things. There are any number of reasons why. For videos, perhaps I’ve lost my voice. Maybe I have a huge pimple or flushed cheeks that I’m showtoppingly uncomfortable with. At times I just run out of ideas, and need a vacation (of various sorts). The same is true with my comic, my writing, my silly cat photos, and all those other creative endeavors I do but haven’t yet shared with the world. (I’m sorry, and you’re welcome) What happens when I don’t do the thing that you are paying me to do? Will that $4/month subscriber of mine get angry if I don’t make a single web comic for a month? Maybe. And, maybe they’d be justified.

What if I fall into a fit of depression, and I can’t work at all for several weeks? I’d arguably need the monetization more than ever during those times, but it sure seems unfair to ask people to give me money for sleeping in the same underwear 7 days in a row. Heck, a few months ago, I got RSV which turned into bronchitis, and teetered on the edge of pneumonia. I’m a sickly dude, and that sort of thing happens to me. If I’m not able to be “ON” for an extended amount of time, does that mean I’m stealing from folks?

Yes, I realize there are responsible ways to prepare for situations like this. I could have a bunch of pre-drawn comics that are released automatically. I could make videos in advance and do the same. In fact, that would be a very healthy thing for me to do anyway, and I should really do that. But since I still have a full time job (because I haven’t successfully monetized my creative ventures), I can barely keep up with this just-in-time release schedule. So building up a buffer is a lot easier said than done. The flaky bit is just one more aspect of monetization that weighs heavily on me, and likely other creators as well.

No Great Answers

Oh, did you think this was an inspirational story that ended with a, “thus and heretofore we shall solve the problems inherent with funding fine arts…”? Yeah, no. This is just my blog where I think out loud. When I write out my thinky bits, it no longer has to live in my head full time. If you expected me to have the answer to life, the universe, and everything — I’m afraid “42” is the best I can do.

That said, I have discovered some things feel less icky than others, at least for me:

  1. If/when I ever get monetized on YouTube, I will not feel horrible about ad revenue. That’s largely because YouTube ads are the norm, and it doesn’t directly take money out of people’s pockets. (It takes a bit of time out of their day, which is arguably a much more terrible thing to do, but that’s another topic). I also like that YouTube has a “Premium” or “Pro” option so that you can pay a monthly subscription to YouTube and not see ads in videos at all. Creators supposedly still get paid, and users don’t have to watch ads. Once I’m monetized, I’ll be making a video about how the premium plan for YouTube is actually pretty great, and I would cancel Netflix long before I’d cancel my YouTube Premium.
  2. Affiliate marketing is really win-win. This one is weird for me, because it still feels icky. But honestly, it doesn’t cost the user any more money at all, and the creator is supported. I try to make it clear that I use affiliate links when I link to a product, but even then I feel like I’m “tricking” people in to buying stuff so that I get a percentage. And yet, it really isn’t that way. I suspect this is a personal issue I just get to work though. And my new “review” blog is me trying to add some value to affiliate links. We’ll see if that works for me emotionally and financially in the long term.
  3. Books. If (when, darn it!) I write books, I’ll be totally fine with selling them. That’s back to the transactional ideal though. You pay me, you get a book. I plan to write books that are self-published ebooks, maybe self-published print-on-demand books, and traditionally published as well. I have no problem accepting money for any of those methods. But also, writing books is hard. Or so I’m told. I haven’t done it yet. 🙂

Anyway. That’s my brain dump about monetizing creativity. It’s weird, and I don’t have a handle on how to do it properly. Perhaps I never will. But if you’re also struggling with monetizing your passions, and you’d really like to monetize your passions (sometimes, if you don’t have to, it’s a better option to not do so!) — know that you’re not alone.

Star Trek Me This

A while back I posted a poll on Twitter about which Star Trek technology would be the most significant. Usually when I bring the topic up in conversation, people jokingly say the Holodeck, and then say, “But seriously, warp drive is the most significant tech.” I generally argue that the replicator is the most overlooked tech in Star Trek, because its invention would solve world hunger, put manufacturing centuries ahead, and make scarcity a thing of the past. I was pleasantly surprised to see that on Twitter, most folks think along the same lines.

But, I want to elaborate a bit on the items, because sometimes I have more than 280 characters of thought on a topic. 🙂

Holodeck

The holodeck got little love on Twitter, and I understand. It seems the most frivolous of the items listed. In reality, the Holodeck is the one we’re probably the closest to actually having. It’s basically VR to the Nth degree. There are obvious differences, what with actual physical interactions and all, but VR is like a poor man’s Holodeck, and we can try it out today.

The use cases for an actual Holodeck are pretty incredible though, to be honest. The show generally stresses its usage as a vacation simulation, which would be important on interstellar trips. But the training, learning, physical fitness, and full immersion would make life better in so many ways.

That said, I think we all know, most Holodeck use cases would devolve into sexual deviance pretty quickly. Maybe that’s good, maybe that’s bad, I’m not here to judge. The takeaway though is that a Holodeck could do more than just entertain us. It could level the playing field for everyone such that privilege of wealth and/or location wouldn’t matter as much.

Transporter

There was some discussion on Twitter about whether the transporter was its own tech, or whether the replicator and the transporter were really the same thing, since the technologies are closely related. But since I was specifically referring to the transporter as a “mover of objects and people”, that’s what I’ll focus on here.

Quite frankly, the transporter tech creeps me out the most. The notion of converting mass into energy and then that energy back into mass seems fine for chairs and pepperoni pizzas, but for a living thing — it’s oogy. This is a trope in the Star Trek universe of course, what if people are “recreated” twice. What if the “pattern degrades” in the buffer. But I’m more concerned about what makes a person a person. When an object (or lifeform) is converted into the stream of energy, their existence is nothing more than a record of what they used to be. If you then rebuild them into that same record, are they the same person? Is there a spark of life that is more than matter/energy? Is there a soul?

Deep stuff, I know. But the transporter has always bothered me in Star Trek. And while I don’t want to get into a big philosophical debate about souls and the meat they may or may not inhabit — if the transporter idea for living things doesn’t creep you out, I’m a little worried about you.

Warp Drive

Arguably the most exciting Trek tech, it’s oddly the one that would probably affect humanity the least. Well, at least initially. With things like hunger, inequality, and scarcity eliminated, Warp Drive would allow for exploration without the sole purpose of exploitation. That would be amazing. But as a “first” tech? Yeah, I’ll pass. I don’t want to solve our energy problems by drilling for oil on a remote planet. That’s just putting the cart before the horse.

Obviously cool tech from a scientific standpoint. And not outside of the realm of “maybe someday something like what it sorta implies” — so I’m not anti-WarpDrive. I’m just not in the, “We need Warp Drive first” camp.

I already talked about the replicator, and why I think that would be the most important and civilization changing tech. But something that didn’t even make my list has gotten me thinking a lot lately…

Universal Translator

This is probably the most practical tech from a, “could we ever actually do it” standpoint. Not with the whiz-bang features of learning and deciphering an unknown language in near real-time, but as a way for people to communicate with each other regardless of their native tongue. Language barriers are more than just inconvenient. When we can’t communicate readily with someone, it changes how we see them. Being self aware enough to realize that our differences are insignificant when compared to our similarities helps — but when we can’t communicate, relationships break down.

When someone doesn’t speak our language fluently, we perceive them as less intelligent (even if we don’t speak THEIR language AT ALL). When we can’t express our intentions to each other clearly, it creates a mental us/them separation that bleeds into every other aspect of our relationship. When we can’t understand each other, we can easily dehumanize each other. And that road leads to the darkest of darkness. If we can’t communicate with people, we can’t get to know them. And if we don’t know people who are unlike us, it limits who WE are as a part of humanity.

There’s a much larger topic about diversity, inclusivity, and expanding our views of “us” — but this was just a post about Star Trek technology. So I’ll save the other stuff for another episode. 🙂

This Blog Might Get Weird

I’m doing all sorts of content creation these days. I’m doing videos, comics, newsletters, reviews (I’m figuring that bit out still… but I wanna keep doing it), podcasts, other podcasts, and I’m still doing silly tweets and cat photos, etc, etc, etc. I want to be a full time content creator someday soon, and so I’m just doing STUFF. But the thing about content creation, especially if you hope to *make money* doing it, is that it’s often important to “niche down”. And that’s super annoy-balls. I’m not really built to “niche-down”. (As you can tell by the long list of stuff I’m doing recently.)

So I decided this blog will be my free-for-all, anything goes, digital void to scream into. The tagline has always been, “the thinks I think” here on my blog, and dog gonnit (dog gone it? hmm… I’m not sure now) that’s what I’m going to do. So things might get weird. I sometimes think things that aren’t fully refined. I sometimes think through difficult social issues. Often times during that thinking, I’ll change my opinion. My goal is to do some of that here.

I hope to be able to leave the comment section open. Those who know me understand that I’m generally OK with dissenting opinions, and I truly listen to other points of view, sometimes even changing my point of view. In fact, I try really REALLY hard to be open to my own wrongness. If I realize I am/was wrong, and accept that — it means I become a better person. And since I have a LOT of room to be better than I am now, the only way I can get from point A (fairly crappy) to point B (moderately less crappy), it will be by accepting and changing the crappy things about me. So at first, for most posts — comments will be open, and I’m in favor of conversation on my personal, half-formed thoughts.

BUT.

I am a founder and level 73 member of the Cult of Kindness (please don’t use our unfortunate acronym). Anything other than kind interactions which assume the best of other people will be shut down quickly. Yes, there’s a certain irony in assuming the best of others, and shutting things down when others seem to not play by the rules, but at the end of the day, this is my blog. If I shut down conversation, I’ll try to do so kindly, explaining myself, etc. But if you remember from above, I’m still fairly crappy, so I’m sure I’ll mess up my pie-in-the-sky notion of doing things right. I just know that online discussions via social media, comment sections, etc. tend to get super ugly super fast. And that is something up with which I will not put.

But some of my very, VERY best friends were forged in controversial forum posts. One sticks with me. I won’t mention her by name, but I’m sure she’ll know who she is if she reads this. I was a very conservative Christian person at the time, and the conversation was with several atheists/agnostics about abortion and Pro-choice/Pro-life stances. We both left the conversation with the same general viewpoints we started — but each did change our understanding and feelings toward the “other side.” That interaction changed me. It was my first step in a journey of becoming a more empathetic, understanding, and intelligent person. She is now one of my dearest friends, and she’s one of the most wonderful human beings I know.

That’s what conversation can do. So I want to have the comment section here open, because I’d really love for more people to have that sort of experience. But it’s often “team flaming blowtorch” conversing with “team gasoline soaked underbritches” — so if things go sideways, I’ll lock/delete/etc. And like I said, I’m still pretty crappy myself, so I’ll probably screw it up from time to time. Anyway. Welcome to The Brain of Shawn. The thinks I think. 🙂

Linux is Just a Tool

Linux is the tool… not me.

There’s really only one job description: Problem Solver.

Sometimes that problem is, “I need to host a website that can scale as demand expands and contracts.”

Sometimes the problem is, “People want good coffee but aren’t interested in making it themselves at home.”

It’s so easy to get wrapped up in the tools we use to solve problems, we can forget that we’re more than expertise in a tool. In the tech world, it’s easy to define ourselves by the tools we’re good at using. I’m a Linux guy. I eat, sleep, breathe Linux. And while it’s sometimes important to stress our proficiency with a particular tool, when that’s all we are, we’re limiting ourselves.

My son in law is a builder. He solves the problem of “people need buildings.” I think he’s pretty good with a hammer. But he doesn’t advertise himself as a hammer guy. See, the thing is, people want a building. Maybe someone good with a hammer is the ideal person to make that building. It seems like a really important skill. But he’s a builder, not a hammer guy.

In IT, Linux is a really great hammer. In fact, I think everyone should be proficient with Linux, because it’s the Swiss Army Knife of the Internet. Whether you want to build a website, create an app, move to the cloud, deploy a database, or mine Bitcoin, Linux will likely be part of the smartest way to implement those things. It’s ubiquitous. It’s powerful. It’s free. But Linux is just a tool, and we need to stop thinking about “Linux jobs” and start thinking about problems we can solve with our shiny Linux hammer.

I’ve had many jobs over the years. I’ve been a school administrator, manager of a university database department (Microsoft SQL!), writer, teacher, bus driver, help desk worker, and system administrator. In every one of those jobs, my Linux skills were invaluable. When I was a bus driver, my IT skills meant I was working for the company’s owner on their computers after work. Because I could solve their computer problems. It’s OK to focus on job opportunities that you can do because of your tools, but don’t go looking for a “hammer job”, look for a job that needs stuff pounded in, and come in fully prepared with your tools.

I know most of this seems like semantics. But it’s more than that. When we let our specialties define who we are and what we can do, we’re not only limiting ourselves, but we’re robbing our potential employers of our true worth. Does a background in Linux help you in a job focused entirely on Microsoft products? Yes! Because you’re uniquely skilled to advise places that Linux and Open Source may or may not benefit an infrastructure.

If my son in law were hired to install a deck onto someone’s home, when the materials arrived, he’d know what to do with all those deck screws. Even though he might be a hammer guy. He knows darn well a hammer isn’t the way to go with a box a deck screws. He’s gonna grab the impact driver and build a glorious deck. Even though he’s a hammer guy.

For me, Linux has been an incredible hammer. I’ve used it in all my jobs, even if that use is to know what not to do. I created a course that follows the Linux Essentials exam objectives from the Linux Professional Institute (LPI). If you take my course, it will prepare you to take the Linux Essentials exam. But… honestly I’m not convinced people should actually take the exam. I’d much rather they watch my course, and use that Linux knowledge to build their own set of tools. The course is free, and it requires no Linux experience or understanding at all.

So please, check out my course, and go look for some nails that need a good pounding.

My Linux Essentials Course is 100% free on YouTube

From Professional to Square One

I’m in charge. That’s… terrifying.

I created professional video content for about 12 years. That doesn’t mean I’m any good at it, but it does mean I’m comfortable with it. This year, 2022, I’ve decided to get back into making video, but with a twist: I’m doing it on YouTube.

Certainly over a decade producing hundreds (maybe thousands) of hours of video would mean I’d CRUSH things on YouTube, right? Well… not so much. But also, yes. Sorta. But not really. (I also wrote professionally for a while, this paragraph is not proof of that, lol) There are some things that have been easier for me as I venture into this new platform, and some things that are much, much more difficult. Let’s start with the good things. There are fewer of them.

GOOD THING: Comfort on Camera

I’m pretty comfortable on camera. I’m also pretty comfortable on stage. For someone who is an introvert to a crippling degree, it seems odd that I’m comfortable “in front”, but if you’re an introvert, you might understand. There’s something about being the person in the spotlight that makes the awkward shyness sorta melt away. In a crowd of people, I’m a wreck, but when people are supposed to be looking at me it’s somehow freeing. Or maybe I’m just a weirdo, I dunno. Nonetheless, many YouTubers struggle being on camera. That’s a huge advantage I have.

GOOD THING: Modest Start Already

When 2022 started, I had about 1600 YouTube subscribers. I’m no where close to being “monetized”, but those first subscribers are the most difficult to find. YouTube doesn’t give anything away for free, so you have to prove yourself worthy of views. Having 1000 subscribers seems to be some sort of entry level point where YouTube takes you a little bit more seriously. Now… those 1600 subscribers were slowly added over 13 years, and very few are active. Even fewer are interested in me as the content creator I am now. Most are here from the days of Linux Journal, or from a semi-viral video I had 12 years ago about breaking into my van. (really)

As I’ve been adding regular content in 2022, I’ve lost a TON of subscribers. I’ve gained some too, and the net change has been positive, but people have been unsubscribing to my channel about half as often as people are subscribing. Two steps forward, one step back. But my videos are getting 50 or so views after a couple days, and that’s a HUGE amount compared to folks starting from zero subscribers. So having a semi-active YouTube channel to start from has been a boon.

BAD THING: I’m Alone

When I made videos professionally, all I had to worry about was making videos. Every other aspect of the process was done by other folks. Marketing, publishing, selling, reviewing… all those things are up to me now. And YouTube is VERY competitive. Guess how many video thumbnails I created before starting on this adventure? None. (OK, a few, but that was back when I was still making professional videos and was instructed to put some content on YouTube as an advertisement, long story…)

Not only are all the aspects of being a creator, publisher, marketer, etc. on my shoulders, but guess what I’m not good at? All those things. So while most folks have to focus on creating their content above all else, the other stuff has been quite a challenge for me.

BAD THING: I Have a Lot of Experience

Or, more properly phrased, “I have a lot of bad habits, or outdated methods.” Don’t get me wrong, part of my “style” is just the way I am, and what makes people love me or hate me. But when it comes to the competitive world of YouTube content, my old tried and true methods aren’t what people want to see. The danger here is two-fold. On one hand, people might see me as boring and outdated with my simple jump cut editing, and headshot/slide/demo video methods of presenting info. But possibly even more dangerous is that I feel compelled to try to BE new and fresh and exciting.

For example, today, I’m going to attempt to shoot a silly intro for a video on user creation in Linux. It’s going to be me “creating” a user (myself) on the couch next to me. I’m pretty sure I can pull it off, but it’s going to take quite a bit of time to set up and edit properly. Will it be worth it? Even if it engages people more, is that what I want to do forever? Keep coming up with fancy video tricks to lure people into my content? I don’t know. It’s a weird combination of having tons of experience and being less-than-fresh in how I do things.

BAD THING: I’m Not Really a Niche Guy

To be successful on YouTube, at least at the start, conventional wisdom is to have a very narrow niche, and stick to it. Sure, once someone is very well known, they can expand a bit and the community they’ve grown will be more interested in the person than the niche, but at first, it’s important to focus on a very narrow aspect of what you love. For me, that’s IT training, with a focus on Linux and Open Source.

But that’s such a very small part of who I am. Even IT training only appeals to me because I want to help other people find their joy in life. Getting a better career, using tools that are free to learn with and free to utilize is a great path, but it’s only that — a tool on the path. I’m also interested in self-improvement, understanding happiness, conquering mental illness (which I know all too well, first hand), and countless other things that make me the whole human being I am. But if I want the freedom to chase those things, and a content creator is what I want to be — at least for now, being narrow is the path. And it kinda sucks.

BAD THING: I’m Old (but it’s not the age that is bad…)

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think I’m too old for this. Not at all. I have tons of energy and excitement left to share. I don’t ever want to “retire”, and if you know me, I doubt the first thing you think about me is how old and out of touch I see. (I hope not anyway!) No, the reason that me being old is a “bad” thing, is that I’m just starting on this journey, but I have a lot of baggage. Mainly financial baggage. I have lots of bills, lots of debt, and very little past wisdom to lean on. So everything I’m doing now is in addition to a DayJob.

Yes yes, I’m blessed to HAVE that day job. I truly am. But the notion of going “all in” on a content creation career right now is just not feasible. Too many people are depending on me, and even if things go REALLY well, that doesn’t mean it’s financially viable for a long time. I’m OK with that, but it does limit some of the things I might do. I’m not complaining, or at least I don’t mean to. It’s just a case of starting at the 30 yard line doesn’t mean I’m closer to the goal than someone further back carrying less baggage. (That’s about the best I can do for a sports metaphor, lol)

BAD THING: I’m Soft

I don’t take criticism well. Not because I think I’m perfect, in fact, quite the opposite. Any time someone points out something I’ve done less-than-ideal, it solidifies in my head that I’m indeed a worthless failure. Please note, this a personal failing on my part. I should be able to take criticism, because I’m a grown man and should understand my value outside the things I create, good or bad. But knowing that truth and living it are different. And I’m not even talking about trolls. No, I mean criticism presented in a nice way. The depth of my self-loathing is staggering.

The irony is, criticism is VITAL to anyone who wants to improve and succeed. I know this intellectually. Yet, it’s a constant struggle that I expect will only get better the more I have to push through it. When I was a “professional” content creator, I was shielded from most criticism because there were so many layers between me and the people consuming my content. The only self-advice I have here is that I need to continue to be as genuine as I can be, and not seek out only the bad stuff. Building a community of people who you can trust with both your failures and successes is important, and so that’s what I hope to do.

BAD THING: I Hate Self Promotion

Remember that bit about me being the marketing department? Yeah… I really feel like a douchebag when I promote my own stuff. It feels icky. I even think it’s a good, worthwhile thing to promote… but for some reason when I promote it myself, it feels wrong. I’m just gonna have to get over it though, because if I don’t promote myself, no one will. So if I ever DO seem like a douchebag, please let me know. Gently. 🙂

Ending with a Bookmark:

When I started this post, I had 1827 subscribers on YouTube. I just checked, and I currently have 1822. Ouch. But it’s all part of the process, and I’m OK with it. Still… 5 people clicking unsubscribe in the past hour is harsh. 🙂

When I look back at this post in 2023, hopefully it will seem as a nostalgic look back at the beginnings of what was to become a thriving community of people who want to make the world a better place. That’s ultimately my goal, to change the world. Right now, I’m gathering like-minded folks, one human at a time. Feel free to join me… https://youtube.com/shawnp0wers