You Have To Try
Just hit record, and figure out the rest later.
When I was in first grade, my mom got a call from my teacher. That’s rarely a good sign, but I wasn’t misbehaving. Instead, a weirder issue had presented itself: I was turning in blank spelling tests.
When my mom and dad sat down with me to ask what was going on, I said I wasn’t sure it would be right, so I didn’t want to turn in something that might be wrong. “If you don’t try you can’t fail” was basically my life philosophy as a 6-year-old. My mom told me I had to try. I could sound it out, I could make my best guess, but I had to put something down. I still remember the fear of embarrassment. I was a bright kid who got praised for her smarts, and spelling a word wrong had the potential to jeopardize that whole identity.
In talking to a couple other creative small business owners earlier this week, I realized I’ve been instilling that fear into some of my clients.
In discovery calls, I really emphasize planning. Worksheets. Scripts. Production calendars. Get every little detail figured out before you hit record, and you have a much better shot of creating something cool.
That’s what I thought, anyways. When people start a conversation with me about their podcast idea, they’re so excited, so ready to get started. By the end of the conversation, I think they feel overwhelmed with all the administrative tasks I’ve assigned, and the checklist has sucked the joy and excitement out of the idea.
As a high-achieving perfectionist myself, I know the struggle of committing to a lot of work if you’re not sure the end result is going to be good. You’re excited to make a podcast, not necessarily to decide on a logo and social media handles and a website and a full Amazon cart.
So I’m revising my advice.
Before we get into the checklist, get your smartphone out and make the damn thing.
You have to try.
In the words of writer Anne Lamott, create a shitty first draft. Have a couple friends-- or me!-- listen to it and tell you if it’s worth pursuing. Once you know what you’re capable of, all the other tasks will feel so much more worth it.
If it’s bad, you never have to publish it. If it’s good, hey! You’ve got your first episode! Either way, making a trial episode gives you a very real idea of what works well, and where you’ll need to improve. And as much as it pains me to say, no amount of planning ahead can provide you that same concrete insight.
So go on. Hit record. The checklist can wait.
