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