The seed was planted one day earlier, on the 28th. I was talking with my friend Leah about a story she had written. It was short and simple, but it was built around a very unique and clever concept.

“How did you come up with that idea?” I asked her.

She said, “Well I was talking to a friend and he said something, and I thought, ‘hmm, that could be a story!’” We continued to chat and I didn’t think too much about those words at the time.

A day went by.

On the 29th, I was doing the dishes, and my brain was doing what it usually does when it’s on idle. It was replaying recent conversations. As I replayed that small snippet of my conversation with Leah, an idea struck me: Maybe all I have to do is say those words… so as I was scrubbing away at a particularly tough stain, I gave it a whirl. “Hmm, that could be a story!” I said.

Nothing happened.

Well, it can’t be that easy, can it? I was still convinced that I was on to something, though—I’m all about self-conditioning behavior by establishing and practicing routines—so I decided to get into the habit of reciting those words on a frequent basis. I said them in my head every chance I could.

Sure enough, later on that day, as my brain was once again recounting a conversation I’d had (this one was a little stale, being over a week old, but still tasty), I said those words to myself at just the right moment… and a story flooded into my head. It was like flipping on a light switch. One moment there was nothing. The next moment, I could see the whole thing. It worked! I was psyched.

Later on that day, as I was reading the news, I had another “hmm, that could be a story” moment… and then another an hour later. By the end of the day, I had a total of four story ideas, and each one of them struck me as genuinely interesting. To put this into context, that’s more story ideas than I had developed in the past year, much to my frustration.

It’s only been two weeks since then, but I’ve already had over twenty story ideas. At least one a day, as frequently as four times a day. Every one of them captivates me somehow. Most of them resonate with me in a very personal way.

While I don’t have the time to develop all of these ideas, that’s the least of my concerns. I’m one giant step ahead of where I was a few weeks ago. In terms of creative ideas, my mind went from being a barren wasteland to a healthy, slightly overgrown garden. Not too shabby.

But why did four and a half words make such a big difference for me? Here’s what I think happened: Those ideas were already there. But interesting ideas don’t lounge about waiting for you to notice them. They’re fleeting little things that hide in the nooks and crannies of your mind when you set out to look for them.

Want them? Then you have to catch them in the act. Find your weapon (mine are four and a half words, yours may be different), have it on hand at all times, and be ready to use it every chance you get.

Oh, and write them down. Ideas are slippery little things.

Note: This article was written for Writing Experiment #3. Join us.

Which begs the question: Why do we value decisiveness so much? Wouldn’t it seem logical to conclude that the best decisions are made with patience and consideration?

Well, yes… theoretically. But there’s a fatal flaw in that logic: It fails to consider fundamental human nature. Our minds are brilliant strategists. They play tricks on us constantly. My brain has tricked me out of  exercise, work, and opportunity a thousand times over… and masking indecision as “careful forethought and consideration” is one of its best weapons.

It works like this: I have to do something that involves making a decision. My brain says, “Hmm, let’s think about that first. How about we contemplate it while making a nice cup of tea?” I think to myself, What a great idea, brain! So I make the tea, and as I’m doing so, my brain whips out another trick. This one’s called, “A Quick Bite to Eat,” and it gets me every time. I cook. I eat. I get a phone call or an email. I get sidetracked.

Next thing I know, it’s tomorrow afternoon. Same time. Same place. Same decision sitting in front of me. And this time, my brain’s tricks are even more effective, because they’ve been re-enforced by my behavior from the previous day. So in the long run, that single moment of indecision had a huge impact on me.

Conclusion: Individual moments of indecision aren’t inherently bad. But when they become part of a pattern of procrastination, then you have a problem.

And I have a solution. It’s simple, really. Any time your brain sees a fork in the road and doesn’t want to choose one path or the other, you need to help it along. You need to have a procedure for making that decision. Just a few small steps that you know can be accomplished easily enough, without hesitation.

Let’s use a simple example: You’re asked whether you want Chinese pizza or Italian sushi for dinner. They both sound delicious to you and you could go either way. You don’t know what to say. Maybe you want to shrug and say, “Whatever, whichever.” But instead, you know that any time you’re faced with a decision and all options are equally good, your procedure is to first ask yourself which one is healthier. If there’s a clear-cut answer, then you choose that one. If not, you choose the first option that was mentioned.

That’s a procedure. All you have to do to employ them yourself is keep your eye out for moments of indecision in your own life, and then build your own procedures to prevent them from happening. Problem solved. Productivity improved. End of story.

P.S. Your brain will attempt to trick you out of your procedure initially. Mine is very good about making me forget things it finds inconvenient. Just keep trying, don’t give up, and it will eventually give in.

This article was in response to AnotherGuy’s Writing Experiment #2.

Well-established, deep-rooted sites are the tall trees that block out the sun for the rest of the net, and they present the biggest challenge to anyone who hopes to establish their site’s presence on the net. That brings us to the question: How can anyone smaller compete with those giants?

First of all, you have to actually grow your site. If your site’s not regularly getting bigger & more content-rich, then it’s in trouble, because a lot of other sites are growing by the day.

Second of all, your chances are much, much, better if you’re part of a group. Colonies, packs, flocks, herds, swarms, hordes, flinks, floats… networks.   Networks grow faster exponentially with size. They cover a broader range of topics while still functioning as specialized areas of information. Their links intertwine with eachother as well as spread outwards into the net.

Become part of a network of sites, or build your own.

And just how are you supposed to do that? Bear in mind that a network doesn’t have to be official. Many bloggers intuitively understand the value of networking—it’s not uncommon for unspoken, mutual agreements to develop between bloggers to comment & link with each other regularly. Try to find another blog that’s relevant to your own and start commenting & linking to it. There’s a fair chance that the other blogger will do the same (and don’t begrudge them if they don’t, it’s not established etiquette).

You can also participate in group events. This post is part of The Writing Experiment. The beauty of this experiment is that anyone who takes part in it becomes one node of an unofficial network of sites.

Or form your own network based on friendship, business ties, shared interest, or some other bond. This site is part of the LGL network, along with AnotherGuy and To Capture Beauty.

There’s also the option of creating your own network all by your lonesome… but I don’t recommend it. The greatest value of a network is in the shared effort involved. Each post helps not only person’s site, but others as well, and more people means more content, which means more mutual benefit. It’s about building relationships as well as site traffic, really.

Hopefully this post has encouraged you to more actively network your site with others on the web. You can start by looking at the writing experiment I mentioned earlier, or by posting comments on other blogs (e.g. this one ), and let me know how it goes!

P.S. The Writing Experiment topic that this post covers is actually, “Why did you start blogging?” This post is my answer: I had the idea that a network of sites would be better than just one site, so I created this personal site with the intention of building a node in a greater network.

Fortunately, AnotherGuy is tackling the problem and offering help. He’s started something of a group experiment. A writing experiment. Details can be found in the link, but basically it goes like this: Anyone is free to submit topic ideas to him. He posts a topic idea every day. Participators write at least 400 words on that topic. Rinse and repeat as necessary.

It’s a really simple idea. Probably far from unique… so why is it so noteworthy?

Well, for a lot of us, coming up with an idea is half the battle. A lot of people put pressure on themselves to find a unique idea that no one else has ever written about. The problem with that approach is that when you’re looking for those hidden ideas, the days tend to just pass you by… It’s a big internet, there are a lot of brilliant writers on it, and those totally unique ideas are few and far between… and you know what? When you finally have that brilliant idea, are you going to have the discipline and skill to sit down and write a succinct, engaging article that will do it justice? Probably not—unless you practice writing on a regular basis.

What else makes this experiment worthwhile? It’s a group experience, and I feel like that counts for a lot. It’s always easier to motivate yourself when you’re a part of a group, even if your work is totally independent.

There’s also the fact that the topics that are chosen might not be topics that you would normally write about. As a whole, that’s a good thing. It forces you out of your comfort zone and puts the focus on the discipline of writing. After all, it’s one thing to write on a whim, it’s quite another to sit down and write on a deadline.

Not to mention that when a lot of people write about the same topic, there’s a certain amount of feedback generated from reading all of the different perspectives that people have and then comparing them with your own.

So that’s it. this is my first post in the experiment & I hope to keep this going at least semi-regularly. If you have a blog… join us!

But Ogilvy’s great successes were on paper and ink. His understanding of TV was limited, and I just couldn’t wrap my head around this fact: Television commercials are unbelievably expensive. They are tested rigorously, and tested using technology that wasn’t even a dream in Ogilvy’s time. They are designed to succeed.

So if information sells, then why aren’t TV commercials informational? Half the time I see a commercial, I have no idea what it has to do with the product. But we know that these commercials work. The Superbowl is a perfect example, if ever there was one. A company creates a commercial that has nothing to do with its product but keeps millions of viewers entertained for twenty seconds, and next thing you know their sales go up. Why?

What is it that makes advertising work?

Well I read and I read, because I wanted to quell that nagging voice in my head. I searched high and I searched low, but in the end I still had no answer to show. (and oh how this worried me so!)

But I did have an idea. Three  small ideas, actually, each revolving around one big, important concept: Transparency.

Transparent
\tran(t)s-ˈper-ənt\
Etymology: Middle English, from Medieval Latin transparent-, transparens, present participle of transparēre to show through, from Latin trans- + parēre to show oneself
Date: 15th century

1 (1): having the property of transmitting light without appreciable scattering so that bodies lying beyond are seen clearly (2): allowing the passage of a specified form of radiation (as X-rays or ultraviolet light) b: fine or sheer enough to be seen through

2 a: free from pretense or deceit b: easily detected or seen through c: readily understood d: characterized by visibility or accessibility of information

3: The property of an entity that allows another entity to pass thorough it without altering either of the entities.

4: When used in a social context, implies openness, communication, and accountability. It is a metaphorical extension of the meaning a “transparent” object is one that can be seen through.

That’s what people want from advertising. It occurred to me that in the same way that good advertising uses a promise to promote a product, the advertising itself should deliver on a promise, a fulfillment of expectations. The philosophy that I propose to you here goes like this: Above all else, people want advertising that is transparent. Transparent in message, in form, and in process. Those are my 3 transparencies of advertising. In a nutshell, it means advertising that doesn’t promise more than it can deliver, doesn’t jar its audience out of their frame of mind or interrupt an experience that they have paid to enjoy, and doesn’t withhold any information or pull any punches.

Stay tuned for separate articles explaining each one of those transparencies in depth!