“We’re All Just a Bunch of Guys”
Day 111/112 of writing reflections
Today I launched the second edition of WWW beta. It featured 3 stories, two penned by yours truly and one by a talented music journalist. We sent it out to 105 people as part of our beta test group, and had an open rate of 48%, a drop from 68% with the first email.
Prior to sending out the newsletter, I spent a combined 12 hours crafting out two articles, editing a video, sourcing photography, designing a newsletter, designing each article, and researching, plotting out social media and connecting with other contributors. Most of this was writing.
I thought writing would come more easily to me.
Writing daily, it felt allowed the transition from my brain to fingertips to be seamless. I thought that my grammar would go up, words would come easier and creativity would strike in trained, reliable force.
This wasn’t the case. Lately, I’ve been struggling with spelling and grammar errors. The backspace has been my favorite button and words that once deluged like a waterfall came to a sputtering stop. I wrote and deleted, wrote and deleted.
If my style of writing had any identity when I first started, it’s shape was eroded away by the command of the delete button, much like the waves crashing against a rock. I wondered (my favorite phrase these days) if my insecurities with writing to share with a public audience were the cause.
Here, on Medium, I feel safe. I know who the readers are (hello, friends) and I enjoy having this safe haven between us. But to blast and share my innermost thoughts, my attempts at journalism and my ideas with friends and people who may not know me so well is entirely frightening.
I can’t help but feel like a child playing with sand castles in the world of start up. The intimidation and fear constantly led me to double back on my words, and in the process, go nowhere. My pages remained predominantly blank and the clock ticked.
I was nervous about putting my work out. Nervous of seeming like a child. Nervous of having bad grammar and misspellings. Nervous of not being perfect.
I realized that the way I write is nearly a direct reflection of my life, a direct parallel to the time I ran back and forth over a cliffs edge for 30 minutes before, finally jumping in.
I’m stuck quite often in insecurity, and not being perfect. I think why this newsletter took so ridiculously long was because of fear. I sat for hours in front of the screen, wondering, why was this so hard?
I wish that I had the confidence of a Chad from Connecticut. Some upper crust white male with lawyers for parents and fast paced mind to follow.
But I’m not a Chad. I’m Chau. I’m a young woman (though I still feel like I’m a girl sometimes) and I still get intimidated. I look at other people with bigger businesses than mine and I wonder, what the hell am I doing here playing with sand?
I told a friend this today, and he told me an anecdote from a tv show called Ballers. The story follows a man who worked hard for a company for 30 years. Finally he had the chance to sit at the table with the owner of this major company, and he didn’t say a word.
Why’s that you ask?
The man looked over at the boss and realized he was just the same. He was just a guy. He was nothing more special than he. He realized anyone could be successful if they decided to be and work for it.
So, we’re all just a bunch of guys + girls.
On my end, the list is building slowly, and right now I have to figure out a few processes to make this run smoothly & seamlessly. The whole process so far has taken much longer than it should, I’m doing everything alone and it can feel overwhelming.
Develop an organized route to find contributors
Develop a timeline for contributors
A detailed account of what I need from contributors
A detailed creative deck for contributors
Build a structured social media plan — involving IG, Pinterest and interviewing influencers.
Discovering how I can interview everyone and write the story efficiently
The list goes on and on.
