Be it, or say it. Choose one.

It's the difference between posturing and participating. I can't tell you how many times I've used this advice in my work. There's never a situation where it doesn't apply to a writing assignment.

Are you going to be it? Or say it?

Are you going to be a cool, or say you're cool? Are you actually building on a core value, or claiming a new benefit/personality trait? Are you being, or seeming to be? (We could apply this line of thinking to our own personal lives, but that's another blog post.)

I'm serious when I say this be it/say it exercise applies to any writing assignment. Take a look at an ad in any magazine and you'll find they are either being it, or saying it. Now, decide which ones are more effective. How about the magazine itself? Is it saying it supports women? Or does it make them feel inadequate enough to buy $75 face cream?

I've spent the majority of my career helping others get to the truth.

Several years ago, I became frustrated enough with the lack of focused, meaningful direction in the creative process to initiate something I called a brand truth process. The name itself explains the goal: truth. The process actually went something like: research, strategy, truth, create, but the real goal was to be, rather than to say.

  

Esse Quam Videri: to be, rather than to seem (to be)

The goal of be it/say it is to be authentic. And being authentic means not faking it. And faking it means protraying an image of yourself that isn't real. Which seems like the definition of most advertising. So, following in my friend Chris Grams' (author of The Ad-Free Brand) line of thinking, engaging in this type of branding process might mean doing something other than advertising. 

Be a part of your local community. Be an advocate for a cause. Be an ethical business owner. Be an inspirational hero. Then say it. See where it takes you.

I know I've said a lot of things. But I've only been a few.

Ask why. Then ask again. And again. And again.

Here. Let me give you my business card.

 

It tells you where I work. My title. My email and phone number. And you get a feel for my taste in design. You'll also find out whether I sweat the details.

For something I almost didn't go to the trouble to create, my business card has made a crazy amount of difference in my life. The picture of it, above, received more likes and comments on Facebook than some of my amazing photos of Paris/Bruges/Amsterdam. People who know me and see it say it suits my personality. People who don't know me comment on the "hey," colors and design as if they've never seen anything like it.

This was a small effort on my part. And it made a world of difference.

So why do we let things like business card design slide? Why don't we seize these opportunities to have fun, create and connect?

Compliance vs. asking why

I tend to fight the power. It's not that I don't follow the rules, I just can't easily settle. And really, do any of us truly want to take things at face value? We tend to fight the relevant battles, let the others slide, and move on. Business card design is a battle easily lost.

If you've ever taken a DISC assessment, you know what the "C" stands for. It's compliance, and I scored in the negatives in this category. (Those with a high C score go into the military or a related field.)

It's not that I want to be disruptive. It's that I naturally want to know why before I do anything. (That natural curiosity must translate as being non-compliant to the DISC assessment experts.) So, why share this personal information that could influence my next manager to thing twice before hiring me? To find out why creative opportunities are seized or missed.  

What if we let it slide? Will we regret not having a cool card? Or not having one at all? Why does it matter? What does a business card really say about us anyway? When I became a freelance/contract writer, I realized I didn't have a business card for the first time since grad school. So many of them are uninspiring anyway. What's the point?

The question meaning makers ask is "Why?" Then they ask it again and again until they find out what matters.

So channel your inner four-year-old and ask why with me:

I don't have a business card. Why?

I usually get them when I work for someone else. Why?

Hm. I really never thought of it this way. Why?

Because I'm so used to waiting to be issued one. Now I don't have to take whatever comes to me. I should make my own. Why?

Because, for the first time in my life, I can.

Okay, maybe the conversation didn't go this way, exactly. But the point is, in every way possible, if you want to find out why something really matters, ask why. And keep asking until you get to a point where you make a realization you've never made, or see a path that wan't on your map yesterday.

In every way possible, if you want to find out why something really matters, ask why.

And do you see how you could substitute a product brief for a business card in the above example? If someone gives you a task, or a half-baked marketing plan, start asking why.

I love my card. Why? It makes me laugh. Why? It tells you who I am without trying too hard. (Etc.)

P.S. Scout's honor: This was published way after I wrote my "why" post.

P.P.S. So was this.

I'd do your math homework

 When I was in grad school, my professors would use simple exercises to get us headed in the right direction. I remember one technique used by Jelly Helm, who I had the priviledge of learning from in my second year at Virginia Commonwealth University's Adcenter (now called the Brandcenter). I can't remember details like this from my undergraduate career, but these Brandcenter exercises have claimed a permanant place in my brain.

Jelly asked his students to write five-word love letters that convinced someone to go out with us. The beauty of this exercise is that it's as simple as it is powerful. It made us write sincerely, convincingly, persuasively, etc. I wrote a lot of love letters that day (I'm nothing if not prolific.).

By a show of hands, my most popular letter was: I'd do your math homework.

Not every guy would respond to my note. But the idea is that my kind of guy would.

So, building on my theory that YOU ARE CREATIVE (IN ALL CAPS!!), I think this is an exercise anyone can practice to write more convincingly about your business, your self, etc.

I remembered it when trying to come up with an idea for an article I wanted to write about my new passion project, the Triangle Wiki. How do we make a wiki accesible beyond our little band of geeks? We also worried that businesses would cut and paste their brochure copy and call it a wiki entry. (See the bottom of this page. Even the press had different ways of spinning the Triangle Wiki.) So, during the official wiki launch last week, I remembered Jelly's little exercise and I invited everyone to think of something they love in their community and write a page about it on the wiki.

Try it. Write more love letters and fewer headlines. Who knows? Maybe someone will write you back.