Let Loose The Dogs Of Freelance Wealth

Rule #15: The Squares Outnumber The Hep Cats 10-to-1

Friday, 8:56pm
Reno, NV
“Like, that is totally squaresville, man.” Maynard G. Krebbs, to Dobie Gillis

Howdy.

Do you recognize the quote, above?

If you do, you’re old enough to remember when the world was pretty much divided between the “squares” (buzz-killing, humorless mainstream zombies)…

… and the “hipsters” (the dudes and dudettes with no boundaries on experience or knowledge).

I’m not gonna go into the history of the word “hip”… because it would take me days to get through it. Entire Ph.D programs are based on research into this peculiar area of mid-last-century American life…

… and you might be shocked to realize where the original term comes from. (Hint: It’s more about overdosing on cough syrup than being well-read or artsy.)

(Though it was still important to BE well-read as you toasted your brain.)

No. Today, I just want to touch on a small part of this history…

… as it pertains to business.

Here’s what I’m talking about: I have always been attracted to intelligent people…

… and through that attraction, I learned that many smart-ass folks tend to be “free thinkers”…

… which means they aren’t afraid of new ideas, or excursions into the darker areas of human experience.

As a slacker, I was obsessed with writers from the Beatnik ranks (Kerouac, Wm. S. Burroughs)… the “Lost Generation” (Hemingway, Henry Miller)…

… and the travails of First Amendent “freedom of speech” heroes like Grove Press (whose owner was frequently prosecuted, along with Lawrence Ferlinghetti, by insisting on publishing books the uptight element of American politics wanted to ban and censor).

(And yes, they went to jail because The Man didn’t want Americans reading stuff that might be dangerous to the power structure.)

I wanted to know and experience the world as deeply as possible… so reading “dangerous” authors and studying “degenerate” art movements opened me up to ways of thinking completely alien to my otherwise normal lower-middle-class small-town upbringing.

The early lesson I learned from this was alienation.

When you care about stuff that most of the rest of the world is appalled of…

… you start to feel “different”.

Nowadays, geeks have earned some respect. The greatest directors in Hollywood indulge in sci-fi and fantasy, comic books are regarded as high art forms, and wealthy people collect vast archives of childhood memorabilia without shame.

Back in the last century, though, being “different” made you a social leper.

Unless, of course, you were lucky enough to find other like-minded souls to hang out with.

This is why my professional career veered sharply from working with “A List” clients like Rodale and large corporations…

… to entrepreneurs.

The corporate world paid well… but was soulless.

And pretty much mindless, too.

It nurtured conformity and mediocrity.

So when I met Gary Halbert, I chucked everything (and I was one of the rising stars in the “A List” ranks of copywriters) to go slumming in the entrepreneurial world with him.

I turned my back on millions in royalties. Because I valued intellectual stimulation more than collecting coin.

Then, as now, that entrepenurial world was sharp, edgy and wild — like a great street party in a bad part of town.

(While the corporate advertising world is like a mild, boring cocktail party in an overpriced condo where you gotta be careful not to get the white carpeting dirty.)

Changing gigs like that was like taking off a tight-fitting girdle… and breathing deep again.

We could swear like sailors around clients. We were irreverent, on all subjects. We glorified in reading weird literature, and in knowing obscure things.

We built our reputations on being different, and made it pay.

And, through fame, we became magnets for other like-minded writers and marketers.

All my life, I’ve yearned for my own Algonquin Table. (That was the infamous back-room table of a bar in New York back in the Roaring Twenties… where the greatest, wittiest, funniest and most irreverent writers in America hung out and drank and created scenes. Dorothy Parker, George S. Kaufman, Robert Benchley — of The New Yorker, the Marx Bros. movies, and early comic novels, respectively — held court there, and every savvy writer of every following generation has lusted for the same kind of opportunity.)

I’ve been lucky to get close over the years.

Hell, it’s one of the main reasons I host and speak at seminars. (Yes, the rumors you’ve heard about the exploits around San Francisco after the recent Hot Seat Seminar there are true. Those photos you’ve seen being Twittered about are real, and untouched.)

(Oh, the shame…)

All of my favorite people are voracious readers, eager to explore scary intellectual alleys and unafraid of self-examination, expanded consciousness, and (gasp!) new ideas.

But here’s the thing: You cannot ever, ever, ever forget…

… that the squares still run the world.

And they are uptight about sex… unamused at sick humor… unforgiving about moral lapses… and pretty much permanent assholes when it comes to what they consider “too much freedom to do just anything you damn well please to do.”

Basically, everything the hep cats consider fun, valuable and worthwhile…

… is taboo to the squares.

And they love to make laws against it.

So you gotta be careful.

It is tempting, when surrounded by your pals (who all think your twisted jokes are hilarious… and who all agree that challenging authority and flaunting rebelliousness and one-upping each other with increasing levels of shocking behavior is just the best way to spend an evening)…

… to be lulled into thinking that what you’re doing is innocent, or even acceptable.

Because, you know, all your buds are “in” on it, and you’re not hurting anybody, and it really IS funny stuff. And the deep thinking really IS profound and intellectually invigorating.

It is a mistake to think there is no danger in embracing and enjoying your “otherness”.

It is, in fact, extremely dangerous.

And I’m not talking about the more obvious stuff, like letting your sexual freak flag fly, or imbibing illegal substances, or even challenging political or religious orthodoxy.

Naw. That’s too easy.

The lesson I learned, early, was this: Most people do not get the joke.

Not “some” people.

MOST people.

A few universities have studied humor, and the results I’ve seen are shocking.

A pitiful minority of folks actually have ANY sense of humor at all… let alone a sophisticated one.

Many learn to laugh on cue when the crowd laughs. They don’t actually “get” what’s so funny, but they want to be part of the fun.

It’s akin to asking someone “You believe in the Bill of Rights, right?”

In America, most will nod enthusiastically. Of course I do. It’s the foundation of our strength as a country.

Of course, if you list out what’s actually IN the Bill of Rights — without telling the average person what you’re quoting — you might get slugged as a commie terrorist.

The disconnect in the brains of most squares is breathtaking.

If you’re smart…

… and you revel in being smart, and educated, and interested in life deeply…

… dude, you’ve got to be careful about how you engage with others.

Halbert and I both had bizarre senses of humor. Our “hobby” during seminars (and we both enjoyed this tremendously) was to try to crack the other one up on stage through passed notes or whispered messages.

Extra points if we did it so well it interupted things. (I almost made Gary wet himself once from laughing so hard. On another occasion, he made me fall off my chair, giggling uncontrollably and snorting snot. On stage. God, I think it’s on film somewhere.)

One of the other ways we entertained ourselves was to insult each other in cruel and vivid terms, publicly.

Oh, we were vicious with each other. It got ugly at times… and I remember those episodes with a smile on my face.

We were good at it. And praised each other’s capacity to absolutely stun ourselves with what seemed to outsiders as hurtful taunting.

Don’t ask me to explain it. I think we shared this trait with a lot of other folks in high-stress positions. It’s the premise of the movie M*A*S*H. (Not the lame-ass TV show, the movie.) (Okay, and the book.)

But here’s the strange part: Frequently, someone from outside our little group would think it was just the greatest idea in the world to join in.

So they would come up to us — as complete strangers — and toss out a crude insult.

And expect us to just laugh, and let him into our confidence as “one of us”.

Wow.

Totally clueless.

Remember Curly from the original 3 Stooges? Their routine involved fake fights — they poked eyes, pulled out hair, slugged each other with fervor and generally performed constant assault and battery throughout their Hollywood careers.

Outsiders, however, didn’t always understand that it was part of an act.

So they would come up and poke Curly in the eye. Like it was just the funniest thing in the world.

The squares don’t “get” it.

If you’re on the inside, and you enjoy breaking taboos and challenging social hierarchies and questioning authority…

… don’t ever get complacent about it.

You may not get blow-back for years. Maybe not ever, if you’re one of the lucky few.

However, eventually, being too casual about ignoring the power that squares wield in the world…

… can bite you in the ass in ways that will crush your reality.

Don’t fight it.

The rule is simple: Know your friends, and know when the circle has been breached by outsiders.

Most of the world sleep-walks through their day, and they are genuinely insulted by people who are different.

This is why I love America so much. Thanks to the First Amendment, the pursuit of intellectually-stimulating and challenging humor has been a first-rate entrepreneurial adventure for decades here.

Just never forget that ALL of your favorite current comedians wouldn’t exist…

… without the Lenny Bruce’s, the Smothers Bros., the George Carlins, the Cheech & Chongs, the Mort Sahls, and all the others…

… who often went to jail, and suffered ostracism and FBI stalking…

… so that you could laugh at politicians and religious leaders today.

This is not something you should take lightly.

There has never been a situation like this in the history of civilization. Your smart-ass ancestors always had to look over their shoulders.

It’s better now. But you’re not completely in the clear.

Keep your edgy humor and your twisted behavior under wraps amongst the squares.

And cultivate the situations where you truly can create your own Algonquin Table of like-minded people.

For most of the really good writers I know…

… we have to constantly remind ourselves we’re strangers in a strange land.

And I’m okay with that.

You just gotta stay frosty, and not kick the beast unnecessarily.

Okay?

Okay.

Comments welcome.

If you guys want to hear it, I’ll get into the whole subject of “cool”… which is completely and stupidly misunderstood in this culture.

But it’s heady stuff. Writers talk about it a lot in our small groups.

Let me know if this subject — or any other subject — is something you’d like to see explored on this blog.

Later, man.

John Carlton

Well, That Was Fun…

Friday, 9:02pm
Reno, NV
“I’ve given it all she’s got, Cap’n. If I push any harder, the whole thing’ll blow!” Scotty, Chief Engineer, US Enterprise NCC1701

Howdy…

Wow.

Wednesday’s little quiz really stirred up a shit-storm (so to speak).

I am shocked — SHOCKED — at the level of potty-mouthed dialog that went on in the comments section.

Okay, actually, I’m laughing so hard my stomach hurts.

Thanks, guys. Really. From deep in my heart, I appreciate all the shared wisdom and wild-ass stabs at delivering the answer to the question: “What is Rule #3 for Physically Maintaining A Kick-Ass Writer’s Existence.”

I’m sorry I couldn’t comment during the brawl that broke out, but I was on the road. Strict radio silence.

As it turns out, the winner roared across the finish line just a few minutes after the post hit RSS feeds. I’m just really glad the answers continued to pour in, anyway.

I’ll reveal the lucky fella in just a moment.

First…

… drum roll, please…

… The Correct Answer:

It’s…

… “Be A Good Animal”.

That’s polite code for purging your tubes — all of ’em — regularly.

This includes your intake tubes…

… your elimination tubes…

… your reproduction tubes…

… and every other tubage that processes snot, shit, wax, oil, hormones, lube, sweat, and all the other fluids and quasi-solids produced by your system.

(Are you blushing yet?)

You can’t write when any part of your animal structure is constipated — including the usual back-ups…

… AND the metaphysical stuff like emotional blockages and stockpiled anger.

Every great writer I’ve ever met knows about the need to be a good animal. Pick your favorite beast, and use it as an Avatar.

Puma. Tiger. Lion. Hyena. Meercat. Whatever.

Stay clean, lean and mean… and keep all body parts functioning at primo levels.

(By the way, not all great writers follow this advice. Ignoring this rule is how you get your Hemingways and your Hunter Thompsons and your Kerouacs… brilliance gone to shit, and even suicide, because the system broke down from abuse.)

Look — I’m no tea-totaller.

Just ask the crew of writers I invited to this last Hot Seat seminar in San Francisco. We channeled the Algonquin Table every night… and there’s a good chance the rumors you’ve heard are true.

It was an over-the-top blast.

You get a bunch of thirsty writers together for longer than an hour, and stand back. The verbal riots will not be televised.

However, there were overtones of moderation, even as we bent elbows till they tossed us out on the sidewalks.

Cuz we had a job to do… and our strict professionalism demanded fealty to the gig.

And that’s the key: Moderation.

Yes, it’s a cliche.

Doesn’t matter.

Good animals indulge in life with gusto, and eagerly embrace vivid, reality-crunching experience.

But they are also serious about recovery, and about maintaining a near-perfect Zen-like balance before and after those bouts with excess.

Don’t let yourself get constipated, on any level, in any part of your system.

That’s the rule.

The details of how you clean your pipes are up to you.

God knows there were plenty of detailed examples in the comment section.

I am SO pleased with all of you. I think folks will be talking about this little quiz for a long time.

Okay — the winner:

Jesus.

The fourth person to chime in.

Nice work. To win your prize — a fresh, signed copy of “Kick-Ass Copywriting Secrets of a Markeing Rebel” — simply reply to any email you’ve gotten from us to your main email address, Jesus. (Easiest would be the email notification you get when a new post appears in this blog.)

Put something about winning the blog quiz in the subject line. And give us your mailing address.

My personal assistant, Diane, will take care of everything else.

There were lots and lots of honorable mentions in the mob. Too many to name.

And nearly as many dishonorable mentions. Some of those were my favorites. (Kevin, Lorrie, Nathan, Matt… you should all be ashamed of yourselves.) (In a good way, of course. You all gave excellent insight to how real, working writers navigate their day.)

That was just a load of fun.

Thanks to everyone who made my day by making me laugh… and think… and realize there are still many different ways to skin a cat. So to speak.

Okay.

Have a great weekend, will ya?

And…

Stay frosty,

John Carlton

P.S. For the record…

… I’m writing this P.S. late on Saturday, and I want it noted that I’ve received several Twitter notes from people who DID blush reading this.

They just didn’t want to come out and admit it in the comments here.

Folks: It’s okay to not be a ribald, sex-obsessed, semi-degenerate as a copywriter.

However, most of the best do tend to lean to the dark side. And, truth be told, they actually enjoy the atmosphere there, and jive well with the company.

Just note that for future reference, and get back to writing as well as you can, using what you have in your Bag of Tricks.

But also, you should congratulate yourself for daring to peek into the darkness a little bit. No one will fault you for blushing.

Shyness and inexperience can be overcome.

The ONLY thing that disqualifies you from eventually becoming “great” as a writer (fiction, nonficition, or copy)…

… is cowardice.

We have to go where most fear to tread. We have to buck up and see the world as it is, not as we wish it were or believe it ought to be.

Writers need to be realists. And embrace reality, good or bad.

It’s not a gig for wussies.

Quiz Time Again (Avoid this one if you blush easily)

Wednesday, 2:41pm
Las Vegas, NV
“Goan ta Lost Wages, Lost Wages…” (Steely Dan)

Howdy…

Got a new question for ya. And I’d love to hear what you think the answer is.

Please post your shot in the comments section below.

I’ll read ’em all (and you should, too) cuz the input that comes in via these little quiz thingies is often pure gold.

However — just to keep it interesting — the FIRST right answer scores a free copy of “Kick Ass Copywriting Secrets of a Marketing Rebel” (or a copy of the about-to-finally-be-re-released “Freelance Course”).

Unfortunately, you’ll have to engage your brain for this one. I kinda doubt there’s more than a handful of folks out there tuned in enough to actually know the right answer.

I’ll reveal everything on Friday, after I get back from this grueling road-trip I’m on. (Currently in Sin City for the SANG thang — goofing off and hanging out with the likes of Jeff Walker, Rich Schefren, Brian Johnson, Mike Koenigs, Stephen Pierce, Shawn Casey, Joe Sugarman, and too many more to name here.)

(Just heard Tony Robbins last night — great talk, and my mind is still racing from what he shared with us.) (Hint: How to thrive in the world as the economy plays out its destiny according to historical trends.)

(Also saw Paula Abdul, of American Idol, give her first public talk. I’ve got photos.)

(More on all this in a later post. I’ve got an iffy Web connection here in the Wynn suite that’s been my home for several days, and I just wanna touch base here… and rile things up a bit until I get back home.)

So here’s the quiz:

In a recent Twitter dogfight I was having with some other marketers, I inadverttantly revealed my 4 Health Rules For Physically Maintaining A Kick-Ass Writer’s Existence.

At least, I revealed 3 of the steps.

I just couldn’t bring myself to name the missing one (Step #3).

Cuz, you know… well, it can make people blush.

And, from what I’ve been told, it’s not nice to make people blush on Twitter.

However, on this blog… hell, I love making people blush.

So I’ll reveal that missing step here.

But not until I’ve heard some of your guesses.

Here are the 3 rules I did reveal, below. Remember: These are essentials for any writer who wants to avoid the catastrophic health nonsense that has ruined many another writer’s life…

Rule #1: Break a sweat everyday.

Writers can slip into becoming Couch Potatoes waaaay too easily. Once you start making money sitting at a desk, your brain will start telling you it’s okay to STAY sitting at your desk all day and all night.

Your brain, at that point, is trying to kill you.

Ignore it.

We are animals living in a physical world. Your ability to think, act and work your mojo depends on your health. And your health depends upon your body working well.

Devolving into Jabba The Hut will not further your goals of wealth and happiness.

So do what you must to work up a good, stinky sweat, every single day. Walks count (as long as you’re chugging along at a good pace.) Games like tennis, raquetball, and full-court basketball (preferrably with people younger, faster, and more agile than you) are great.

Even better: Hire a freaking trainer to force you into shape. (Mine is nicknamed “The Nazi Bitch”, for good reasons.)

Just do what you have to do to get your heart racing, your blood pumping, and your sweat glands frothing.

Remember: You aren’t exercising if you’re not sweating.

Sweat is good. Thirty to forty minutes of it every day won’t interupt any part of your style, and will help you enjoy life at every level.

Rule #2: Breathe. Deep.

Most Americans don’t breathe at all. They “sip” air, using only the upper area of their lungs.

Writers are the worst offenders. There really is something called a “Writer’s Trance” — where you will slip into a slouch while deep in writing mode, breathing so shallow that carbon monoxide builds up in your system and you come close to blacking out.

Been there. Done that. Fell out of my chair in a confused daze, toxic with “bad” air that needed to be expelled.

Finding a way to avoid this trance is not easy.

Heck, I own the most expensive ergonomic chairs made… and it took me about 15 minutes to unconsciously figure out how to slouch in them and obliterate any benefit from the support.

Slouching, riveted on the process of writing, nearly immobile except for your fingers flailing away at the keyboard, while barely breathing… dude, you’re asking for bio-chemical trouble.

Your brain will curcle without plenty of oxygen. Thinking becomes sluggish, headaches ramp up, and dream-like states take over. (You may even hallucinate that you’re producing great copy, when in actuality you’re slinging slop.)

So learn to breathe. Yoga ain’t a bad place to learn the techniques. (Especially Hatha yoga.)

I won’t go into the details here, but you can easily master the technique of filling your lungs from bottom to top with just a few sessions from anyone you can corner who knows what they’re doing. A pretty yoga teacher is my recommnedation. I suppose you could Google for breathing techniques, too.

The thing is, breathing deep is essential to living well, and thinking well. Breathing shallow is for tools.

Quick technique: Set up a timer when you write to go off every 30 minutes. Stand up when it dings, stretch a bit, walk around, and do some focused breathing for ten minutes or so.

Then set the alarm again, and get back into writing.

Rule #3:

I’m not gonna tell you yet.

You need to think about it, and give me your idea in the comment section, first.

Rule #4: Feed your brain.

This means exactly what you think it means.

When you really need to write well, nix the junk food diet, and eat as well as possible. Lots of fruits and veggies, Omega-3 oils (fish), high-end cuts of meat if you’re gonna eat meat.

No sugar. No snack food. No crap at all.

I’ve experimented with herbs like ginko, ginger, and other cool herbs which are supposed to aid brain function, but I can’t really swear by any clear-cut results. Try ’em, and use ’em if they work for you.

Very important: Do not rely on coffee to stay “alert”.

Rather, take a nap if you’re really tired. It’s a tactic all top writers know about — stuff your brain with info, then go sleep for 20 minutes and let your unconscious synthesize and data-mine everything. When you wake up (don’t sleep for longer than 20 minutes or you’ll get groggy), you will often be amazed at what’s suddenly ready to be written.

I’ve done my headlines this way for most of my career. USPs, too.

I never force myself to stay awake. You’ll spend 3 hours grinding out crap you’ll have to toss anyway… and by grabbing some brain-satisfying shut-eye when you require it, you can be more productive in half-an-hour than you’d ever realize in those 3 bleary-eyed hours trying to coerce results.

So…

… that’s 3 of the 4 big rules for being a physically-sound writer.

Nothing particularly earth-shattering here. You may have known about these 3 rules already.

Rule #3, however, eludes even smart writers.

I have NEVER come across mention of it in any of the books I’ve read about writing.

I’ve never heard another guru talk about it.

And yet…

… this rule came naturally to me, early in my career. It made sense. And it worked, by making me astonishingly more productive and effective.

When I met Gary Halbert, I discovered he lived by the same rules… including the Big One, #3 (which I will reveal to you Friday).

No hints. (Except that it does tend to make rookie writers blush.)

Ponder.

Try to imagine how your own physical manifestation of writing stuff might benefit from doing something essential and critical to your body’s health.

And submit your answer here, in the comments section.

First one to score wins the prize.

But everyone wins, of course, because the sharing of tactics and info in these quiz threads always delivers new wisdom and insight.

Okay. Let’s hear what you’ve got.

Sorry, in advance, if I’ve made you blush even thinking about this stuff…

Stay frosty,

John Carlton

P.S. WHAT!?!

You’re not following me on Twitter?

That’s… insane.

I post frequently throughout each week (usually in the mid-to-late P.M. hours, west-coast time)… and consistently keep things stirred up and off kilter.

You’re missing out, if you’re not at least road-testing Twitter. This is Web 2.0 on steroids.

I’m at www.twitter.com/johncarlton007

Check it out.

Now post your idea of Rule #3 in the comments section below.

C’mon, don’t be a coward.

It’ll be fun.

Too Much Information, Dude

Friday, 9:01pm
Reno, NV
“Ewww, gross!” (Expected reaction from my grand-nieces when they’re old enough to read this)

Howdy…

I’ve got 2 quick things for you here…

… one of which I expect you to respond to.

You can choose which one, according to your whims.

But please do respond.

Dammit.

First of Two Items: Let’s get this short commercial announcement out of the way with two brief paragraphs.

There are still a couple of spots left in the last-ever full-weekend Hot Seat Seminar I’m hosting February 21-22 in San Francisco. Yes, I know this is astonishing, but it’s true. First time I haven’t instantly sold-out a Hot Seat event. One guy had to pull out cuz the economy ate his income stream the day after he grabbed a spot. Gruesome. Sign of the times?

Doesn’t matter. If this offer of intense marketing-intervention by a gang of experts — giving you a practical “action plan” to go get rich (after fixing all your problems) — is something you KNOW you should be jumping on… then go here now, read the details, and for God’s sake, grab one of the last spots (before someone less worthy than you does):

www.carlton-workshop.com

Second of Two Items: I just got “tagged” to write 25 Random Things About Myself.

My old pal Michel Fortin took this notorious Facebook tactic, modified it slightly for bloggers, and has sent the little bugger out into the blogosphere.

I just read an article in the New York Times about this “25 things” phenomenon (and how it’s energized the Facebook community)…

… but guess what?

It’s not new.

The tactic of using random, unrelated subjects to reveal something about someone is as old as “do it yourself biographies”. If you’re trying to get Grampa to write his memoirs, but he doesn’t know how to begin…

… then make up a list of random questions to get him started.

Rather than ask him “What was your childhood like?” (which will have him reaching for a slug of rheumatism medicine)…

… you ask him, instead, about the first time he had chocolate ice cream.

That will open a memory storage locker that includes shocking details about his life, which will require him to explain who Uncle Willie was, why they were all at the Grand Canyon in the 1930s, how tough it was driving a rattle-trap Ford across Arizona in June, how much gas cost in the Depression, how a kid experienced the world as it sped toward war, and on and on.

There really is no such thing as a random question. All things interact in the universe, and that intensifies when you add human memory into the mix.

Boy, does it ever intensify.

This particular concept — writing out 25 random things I believe most folks don’t know about me — could become the first chapter of a decent autobiography.

Of course, I’m a long-winded blabbermouth in love with my keyboard, so I could transform ANY subject into something that would fit into a biography. But there you have it.

Good thing I own this blog, and don’t have to please anyone else to keep my job here.

So, with apologies to the folks who thought they invented this process…

… and with a shrug of slight embarrassment because I know the concept is supposed to be full of short little tidbits and factoids (and I’ve gone off with half a novel here)…

… here is my contribution to this cultural sunami of too much information. About moi.

The rules are simple.

I quote Michel here:

Once you’ve been tagged, you are supposed to write a post with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you.

At the end, choose five more people to be tagged. You also have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it’s because I want to know more about you. To do this, you simply link to their blogs so that they know you responded to their tag. (That’s how I found out I was tagged by Fortin.)

You may include the above rules in your post so that the person being tagged knows them, too. You may also want to tweet your post to notify them on Twitter, too.

Got that? I name five folks at the end whom I have tagged.

However, I’d love to take it a step further:

I want to hear 2 (not 25) things about you in the comments section here. That’s harder — you gotta think “If these 2 things are all someone knows about me… what does that SAY about me?”

Oh, this should stir up some shit, all right.

This could really be fun, guys.

First, though, you gotta slog through MY 25 random things. It’s more than you ever need to know about me.

Let’s begin, shall we?

1. I was born at 4:44pm on a Saturday afternoon in Pomona, California. For some reason, this has seemed significant to me… and no, I haven’t looked into the numerology aspect, but I was interested to learn that Howlin’ Wolf’s “lucky” number was 444. (From the tune “Ain’t Got You”: I got the mojo, and a liquor store, I play the numbers, yeah, 444…) Please alert me if you have insight to this.

2. My father still lives in the same track house he bought in 1948, soon after returning from WWII. I know every square inch of that joint, though it used to be the size of a castle to me, and now the entire layout could fit into my current living and kitchen area. I visit often, and am consumed with memory while there.

3. In fact, every place I’ve lived seems haunted by ghostly images from when I walked the streets. I still have friends in the town where I attended college, and when I visit I can easily slip into a waking reverie rippling with replays of past events… right down to the emotional nuances. I feel like I’m in an ongoing movie 24/7. And this is true of every place I’ve lived (and I been around, let me tell ya).

4. I was stunned to learn, a few years ago, that not everyone has access to a running memory of their life like this. I guess I’ve been writing, in my head, my autobiography since becoming conscious in the crib (yes, I have a vivid memory of being a baby). I don’t see how this skill provides any evolutionary benefit… but I am that guy with near-total emotional/visual/sensory access to memory. Luckily, I’ve lived the kind of life worth reliving once in a while. Otherwise, this would totally suck.

5. I was a late bloomer. My parents wisely waited a year to put me into school — so rather than being the youngest (and most immature) in the class ahead, I was among the oldest in my class… which allowed me to mature at my natural pace, without pressure to start shaving before I actually grew facial hair. Lucky move. I would have been a nervous wreck being the youngest. (Plus, the class ahead of me was full of assholes.)

6. I have a number of attributes that are considered relatively rare: I’m red-green color deficient (not “color blind”, but definitely clueless about what color anything is), something affecting around 3 to 5% of the population. My fingers are double-jointed (I can do some really gross things, like locking my knuckles when giving someone the bird, which always startles them). My first toe is longer than my big toe on each foot. I can pick up stuff with my toes, too (though I think I developed this skill, rather than inherited any prehensile trait). I was born without wisdom teeth. I can curl my tongue. Impressed? You should be.

7. I absolutely stink at singing… but that hasn’t stopped me from doing it in bands from the time I was 15 years old. Mostly I sang back-up and the occasional solo… but for my second mid-life crisis (10 years ago) I formed a 3-piece power rock band, and had to sing around half the material. I did well enough to pack biker bars, and that’s all I cared about. But I still stink at it.

8. Part of the reason it took me so long to get my act together (I was 34 before I got serious about becoming a professional copywriter) is that I have multiple talents above mediocre levels, and pursuing them kept me distracted. I wrote my first novel in the sixth grade. (It was horrible, but a real story with plot, character development, and coherent ending.) By high school, my cartooning was so good I was forcibly given a weekly cartoon strip in the school newspaper (which lasted for two years). I was shy, and actually resented the celebrity that brought. Then the same thing happened in college, and for 2 years I was the staff cartoonist for the school daily. It was hard work. I also played guitar well enough to carry a band, and I’ve been writing pretty damned good pop songs since I was 17. I also played baseball deep into my teens, and thought I wanted to be a jock. (Really bad idea for a guy with my poor eyesight.) I’d be broke today if I had followed any of those professions. I miss cartooning, though.

9. I’m sort of a classic Baby Boomer. Growing up in Southern California, I experienced the best and newest television innovations — from “I Love Lucy” to the McCarthy hearings to American Bandstand to Ed Sullivan — and was in the audience for some Bozo shows. Went to Disneyland the week it opened, and had been there 9 times before it was 4 years old. Bodysurfed at the beaches the Beach Boys sang about, swam in Lake Arrowhead while Hollywood movies were shot there, went to Palm Springs just when Bob Hope discovered it. Lived near the first MacDonald’s and the first In-And-Out Burger. Entered high school during the Summer of Love, went to college during the best part of the Sexual Revolution, and the soundtrack of my youth is now what you’d call Classic Rock (I first made out to Louie, Louie, fell in love to Layla, had my first heartbreak to Fooled Around & Fell In Love). I was a folkie, a square jock, a hippie, a student revolutionary, and I hitchhiked up and down the west coast before horror movies put an end to all that. (I’ll stop — I know I’m boring you.)

10. I grew up less than a block from Route 66, where it ran along what used to be the Spanish Trail, in the oldest settled part of the San Gabriel Valley. In a town called Cucamonga (Shoshone for “running spring”), which was an hour out of Los Angeles, mostly orange groves and grape vineyards and the kind of drive-ins/car-clubs/surfer/rebel-without-a-cause youth culture best depicted in the film American Graffitti.

11. I was almost held back in the 2nd grade, because no one figured out I needed glasses and I never saw anything the teacher wrote on the blackboard. It took another 4 years for it to become obvious (my family all has perfect vision, except me, The Freak), and the evening I left the optomotrist wearing my first pair of glasses, I was literally dumbstruck at my first clear sighting of the full moon rising over the mountains. It is still the most beautiful visual moment of my life.

12. My high school was sexually retarded… and while much of the So Cal area dove into the wild erotic highjinks of the mid-sixties, we mostly bungled our way through fifties-era romantic adventures. Thus, I got very good at kissing and foreplay, while slowly going batshit trying to lose my virginity. However, I now see this was an advantage — easy sex teaches you few skills in creative pleasure. It may sound corny, but foreplay rocks.

13. I grew up without much money… but so did everyone else in my group, so it didn’t impact our ecstacy over living in such abundant times. Even through college, it was unusual for anyone in my generation to own more than a couple dozen records (or a decent stereo). So we learned every note of every song by memory (including the skips, cuz none of us took good care of the vinyl) and obsessed over the scant info available on the album covers. You really could tell a LOT about someone with a quick glance through their record collection — stoner, hip cat, clueless pop geek, mainstream Top 40 fan, folkie, Frank Zappa weirdo, etc.

14. I developed my love of all things rock before I knew I was doing it. My sister is 8 years older than I am, and every afternoon we’d fight over who got to watch TV. I wanted to tune into Engineer Bill’s cartoon show, and sis craved American Bandstand. So we alternated days… and I became an 8-year-old anthropologist gorging on doo-wop and Chuck Berry and Elvis, not quite clear on why it was so enjoyable. (I still have a thang for poodle skirts.)

15. My childhood obsessions went through fairly normal-for-the-times stages: Dinosaurs, the Civil War, science fiction, horror and fantasy-adventure comics (huge Frank Frazetta fan), Mad magazine, surf guitar, the Monkees, cars, girls, bodysurfing and finally, long hair.

16. I entered my senior year of high school as a “good boy” and ended the year getting suspended for refusing to cut my hair, challenging authority at every turn. It was 1970, the height of the anti-war movement.

17. In college, my hair nearly reached my belt. This was a big deal back then, because no one would hire me for anything, cops pulled me over without reason, and the risk of being assaulted by pissed-off social conservatives (which included bikers, frat boys and construction workers) was very, very real. But the chicks dug it, and it meant instant acceptance into the counter-culture. God, we were shallow back then.

18. My favorite color is deep blue… but for some reason, light blue kinda ticks me off. (And I can’t “see” purple, which is Michele’s favorite color, and that pisses her off.)

19. I smoked cigarettes for a decade. Started at 19, trying to cop some of Humphrey Bogart’s mojo, and ended with successive bouts of severe bronchitis that convinced me to stop at 30. I still miss it. But I refuse to get involved with cigars. It’s good to miss vices — it reminds you that you chose living over dying slowly.

20. I am still relatively close to several friends I’ve known since I was 5 years old.

21. I’ve always had close friends, but I’ve also moved around a lot which put some of those friendships on hold. I find it interesting that several people who consider me their best friend live near other people who also consider me their best friend… and they’ve never met. Or, when they do meet, they don’t feel they have anything in common except me. I think, long ago, I developed some kind of ability to be a chameleon, so I could hang out with a vast variety of folks and develop deep friendships.

22. In fact, I’ve often thought of writing an info book on how to be a good friend. There are, it turns out, some good rules for doing this. Most folks are incapable of being a “best” friend with anyone, because of childhood baggage (or narcisism). I know people who I’ll get together with after not seeing or speaking to for a couple of years, and we’ll just pick up where we left off without a hitch. You know you’re with a good friend when the silences are comfortable and enjoyable even when they’re long. (First requirement for a good road dog, by the way.)

23. I have 3 novels in my drawer that just might be kick-ass when I get around to the final edits. I’m in no rush, though. My goal was to write one before I turned 40, and I did. Even had a NY agent shop it for a month, but I pulled it. The joy comes from writing them, not in getting recognition from a publisher or audience. (Yes, I’m weird.)

24. Right now, I own around a dozen electric guitars (including the first one I ever bought), one lap steel, two Martin acoustics (one of them a cool “traveler”), one bass, and four keyboards. Five amps. One PA. A big pile of wah-wah’s and stomp boxes. My favorites: The digital Hammond with virtual Leslie, and the Japanese reissue of the ’62 Telecaster I hot-rodded with a Seymour Duncan Hot Rail bridge pickup and black pickguard. (Rosewood fretboard, standard Tele neck p/u, separate switch for the Hot Rail, Slinky’s, Tweed amp. Yum, yum, yum…)

25. I went a year, in college, without wearing shoes. My feet got so tough, I could walk through snow without problem. Didn’t do it on purpose — I just got used to it, preferred it, and did it. Not sure what this says about me.

There. That wasn’t so hard.

My 5 choices to “tag” are David Garfinkel, Ed Dale, Rich Schefren, Perry Marshall and Stan Dahl (who will use my blog for a guest post, since he refuses to begin his own blog).

That’s all for now, folks.

Stay frosty,

John

P.S. Remember to post your comment with 2 random things about you.

The Number One Rule For Screwing Up Your Life

Thursday, 9:19pm
Reno, NV
“Wait — I’ll change!” (Last thing every guy says as she slams the door, never to give him “that” look again…)

Howdy…

Has this ever happened to you:

You’re minding your own damn business, slogging through another day (which seems suspiciously similar to yesterday and the day before and the day before that…)…

… and — wham! — out of the blue, something NEW jumps out and scares the bejesus out of you.

You’re not scared because it’s something scary.

No.

You’re scared because it’s… new.

You weren’t expecting it.

And you were all cozy and snug in your ho-hum predictable life…

… safe from the gnarly dangers of new stuff.

In your brain — slowly turning to sludge from boredom — the equation is simple:

New = Change = DANGER!

Climbing off the merry-go-round of a predictable, safe life is, frankly…

… an adventure that threatens almost everyone.

You ever been in that situation?

I sure have.

I’ll cop to it.

Growing up, the message from parents, school, and the culture at large was simple: True contentment could only be found by conforming to the straight-and-narrow.

Don’t think too hard about it, either, boy. You’ll just get upset.

Adventure was for movie heroes and astronauts… and you’re no astronaut.

I really thought my main task in life was to find a groove where everything was predictable.

Which translated, for me, to “boring”.

Mostly, I violated this demand from society to conform. I cultivated an appetite for adventure, and took some collosally stupid risks with life and limb.

The key word there, however, is “mostly”.

When it came to the ultimate adventures, I nearly always balked.

What is the “ultimate adventure”, you ask?

Well, I’ll tell you: There are two fundamental types of choices you will be faced with in life…

1. The easy choices…

2. And, the hard choices.

Many opportunities for adventure are easy to accept. Go out partying — again — with your buddies… get sloshed, and see what happens.

Or… agree to join the company bowling league. What the hell. Live dangerously.

Or… change your hair style. Go for that promotion. Buy that hot new car.

Heck, even get married. Slide into a mortgage.

I’m not saying marriage is easy, mind you.

But for most, it’s not really a desperately hard choice to make. When you live in the groove the culture has laid out for you, the job/marriage/kids/mortgage route is well greased.

And I’m not picking on this choice. No value judgements here.

It’s just, as I say, an example of an easy choice.

For some… especially those folks who eventually become successful entrepreneurs and biz owners…

… the marriage/kids/mortgage part is fine. Great, even.

But that “job” part…

… not so much.

And so they make the hard decision to enter a world of unpredictable risk levels. Where adventure of some magnitude is pretty much guaranteed.

No safety net. Huge blowback for failing. Ego, self-respect and bank account on the line.

That…

… is a hard decision to make.

The payoff, of course, can be spectacular.

But you can’t get there without first making that hard initial decision to get started.

And oh, the pain of making a hard decision can melt your brain.

Especially when it’s triggered not by slow, logical thought and planning…

… but rather by the sudden, rude appearance of an OPPORTUNITY.

Don’t you just hate it when that happens?

I’ve been learning this lesson my entire life.

Somehow, as a kid, it wasn’t such a problem. The Jones’s were driving to the beach, and did I wanna come along?

Sure. What else could possibly be more important today?

But then, the ponderous overthrow of my brain by young adulthood introduced second thoughts and paranoia.

Suddenly, my standard reply became “Gee, I dunno.”

And I really didn’t know. Didn’t know what I wanted, didn’t know how to navigate the possible adventure looming, didn’t know what to do.

I was frozen, more often than not, by choice.

Especially when real — real and dangerous — opportunity presented itself.

I’ll give you just a single example… which should echo similar experiences in anyone who also grew up shy and clueless:

During the painful early years when I was desperate to enter the hormone-soaked world of romance… I was sorta fine when I had lots and lots of time to decide which girl I should obsess on or pursue (in my usual ineffectual and hopeless way).

However… I would occasionally be surprised by a girl showing sudden, intense interest in doing something with me. Just coming in from left field, and shattering my belief that I was invisible to most females.

God, I was such a loser.

I almost always balked. I wanted to pursue things… I ached to get involved.

And if she was persistent, and not as crippled by doubt as I was… things sometimes actually worked out.

Even losers occasionally win.

But you’re a fool to bet on it.

Because most of the time, that invitation was nothing more than a whisper of a suggestion.

A flitting, quickly disappearing moment in time where — if I knew how to make the hard decision to just go for it — the door was ajar just enough to allow me fast entrance to an adventure that might change the trajectory of the rest of my life.

It’s The One That Got Away that will haunt you.

And this, more than any other story I could relate, defines “opportunity”.

In business, as in those fragile early experiments with romance, the most important opportunities will not often announce themselves ahead of time.

There will be no warning.

And there will be precious little time to consider your choices.

As a young man, I balked a lot. I hesitated.

And — even worse — I consoled myself with the notion that other, maybe even better, opportunities would always be just around the corner.

So making any hard decision could be put off. Indefinitely.

This was a stupid way to live.

And this had to change, once I vowed to pursue success without excuses.

I learned to spot opportunity… learned to hear the whispers of it that few others heard or paid attention to… and I leaned to quickly gauge the value of saying “yes”.

I became, essentially, a Player in the game of grabbing opportunities… and riding the adventure that ensued for all it was worth.

This is how I met ALL of my mentors, and secured long-lasting relationships with them.

This is how I mastered the freelance game faster — and with greater rewards — than anyone else in the game.

And this is how I’ve attained every shred of success I can lay claim to.

By recognizing… correctly judging… and grabbing onto opportunities that most people missed.

The vast majority of opportunities you will encounter in your life will never be repeated.

It’s often a matter of being in the right place, at the right time…

… armed with the right skills to take advantage of what has been laid before you.

It’s a hard decision to make, to become that guy who is always alert for chances to engage with life on a higher level. To hear what others refuse to hear. To murder your ego and crush your natural skepticism and stubborn reluctance.

To finally take huge bites of life and chew with gusto.

But once you do… you’ll never go back to being afraid of change.

You’ll never again be daunted by even risky adventure… because part of being open to opportunity is being PREPARED for opportunity.

Out of nowhere, the lovely and enchanting Suzie Q may ask you to dance.

And, once you’ve embraced being that guy who grabs opportunity, you’ll say “sure.”

And you’ll know how to dance well.

Ah, it brings tears to my eyes to remember the journey. Tears of joy, because learning to see and gobble up opportunity launched me on adventures it will take 3 biographies to adequately chart.

And so, here we are.

And here YOU are.

Staring at perhaps one of the last great opportunities in business today: A chance to share a room with me and a staggering gang of other experts for 2 solid days of ripping deep into every detail of killer marketing and advanced money-making strategies.

In San Francisco, the most gorgeous city this side of Paris.

At probably the last-ever full-weekend Hot Seat Seminar I’ll ever host.

And, since nobody else knows how to offer Hot Seat marketing interventions… this truly qualifies as an opportunity that needs to be jumped on.

Or missed forever.

It’s not the last opportunity you’ll ever have in your life to move forward with your quest for business success.

But it very well may be the last one you’ll ever have that includes having me and a mob of proven, rich veteran experts obsessing on you and your business.

Solving all your problems, opening up fresh avenues for profit, sharing killer new strategies, and giving you an Action Plan to get everything moving as soon as you get home.

So go ahead — ignore it.

Don’t even glance at the website explaining the event.

It’s February 21 through the 22nd. Coming up fast.

You wait any longer, and it’ll zoom past you. Just like all the other opportunities you’ve missed.

However… if you’re finally ready to take a chance, and to let the biggest adventure of your life begin…

… then go here now:

www.carlton-workshop.com

There are a few seats available.

And the door to the rest of your life is open… just a crack… and waiting for you to bust through.

And waiting.

And waiting…

Stay frosty,

John Carlton

The Answer

Saturday, 10:34am
Reno, NV
“Seek, and ye shall find…”

Howdy.

Well. That was obviously a great little exercise in critical thinking.

I hope you had a chance to read all the responses to the question I taunted folks with in the Thursday post. Right now, there are 115 answers, most of them excellence little nuggets of wisdom and insight.

However… almost every single one was far off-base.

Good stuff. But not the right answer.

There was one response that came close… and one other that pretty much hit it dead-on.

So I’m awarding two prizes, instead of the one I promised. I’ll call ’em out in a moment.

First, though…

… I think it’s worth going over the right answer, and exploring where everyone went wrong.

Most comments centered on how you should deal with your market and your mindset. How to get prospects riled up, how to ignite your own passion, how to deliver more and thus deserve more.

This is good advice, but it’s not functional for the situation.

Consider how I framed this exercise: People come to me for consultation. They pay a pretty penny for the best advice I can offer.

These are, often, already-successful biz owners who have hit a rought spot — sales have tanked, ads aren’t working, competition is eating them alive…

… and they don’t know why, and they don’t know what to do next.

At some point, they have reached a state of relative helplessness. These are smart, strong, successful people… and admitting they’re stumped is a difficult realization to make.

However, it’s still an act of courage… and the right thing to do.

If they DON’T have that moment of awareness (that they’re toast without some help)… they risk freezing up in denial, and coasting into bankruptcy.

It’s a sad, common tale. Confused biz owners will pump every last drop of their net worth into a marketing plan in freefall, and not be able to face reality until — like an out-of-control drunk — they hit bottom.

Smart marketers know two things that save them from this fate:

1. The moment where you need a reality-check… and where you should be making decisions that will affect the rest of your life… comes LONG before you hit bottom.

2. And (big surprise to rookies)… it’s okay to fail.

You just need a better definition of the word “fail”.

To a good marketer, it doesn’t mean “bankruptcy”.

No. It means “This isn’t working. Time to change course.”

The most obvious (and heart-wrenching) example of this is with family owned restaurants. It’s the most common type of brick-n-mortar biz started by first-time entrepreneurs… and the most likely to fail.

If you’re blinded by your dreams — and I’ve recently seen this happen just in this town several times — you will be tempted to believe you’re on some kind of ride controlled by Fate. Which is a delusion that feeds on itself… so you get fatalistic, and resort to the only thing you do still control: Your ability to get up every day and grind it out as certain Doom approaches.

You don’t ask for help, because you don’t believe anyone can help. You gotta do it yourself. You staked out your spot, and now you’re gritting your teeth and taking the oncoming storm full-face.

This is what we call “The False Hero” kind of thinking.

To a smart marketer, the reality checks would have started before the doors opened.

Essentials like location, competition, traffic flow, and even future city plans to tear up streets would have been sweated over.

And even more important… where gaps in knowledge or expertise glared, help would have been sought out.

And even more important than that… if unexpected disasters happen anyway, then expert input becomes a Number One Priority. (I know one expert, for example, who made a mint helping small pizza joints demolish the bigger chain pizzerias… and another who specializes in helping boutiques thrive after Wal-Mart moves in next door.)

Wait — this isn’t the specific answer to the question yet. I’m not pushing random consultations.

Because, if you waltz blindly into the World of Experts, you’re gonna get mauled.

Using the same example from above: I’ve met oodles of rookies who latched onto an expert, and blindly followed their advice… without double-checking, and without doing reality-checks along the way.

I’ve said this before: Entering business can be compared to taking a bus downtown to the rastiest part of the slum… and walking into the first dark alley you come across.

If you’re not prepared, you’re going to be the evening’s entertainment for sharks you won’t even see coming.

However, the “right” way to do this isn’t hard to figure out. You prep by collecting every shred of info and insight you can muster. Google maps, crime reports, a clear understanding of the laws affecting your right to defend yourself when trouble rears.

That’s step one. Do a reality check on what you’re getting yourself into.

This is also as far as most rookies take it. Though this is a super-simple step, and can be done quickly… it exhausts the thinking of most folks.

Smarter marketers keep going.

Step two: Get hip to both self-defensive and offensive maneuvers. (Yes, we’re still talking about both physically walking into an alley, and also about entering a market.)

At this stage, most people will cling to the do-it-yourself program… and that’s fine. You can learn a ton by studing and practicing on your own.

However…

If you take the reality of the situation seriously… you’re gonna want to go deeper into preparation.

This is step three.

And it’s where the Very Successful take a different path than the Also-Ran’s.

Have you guessed yet what this advanced step is?

Think about it before reading on.

Take a minute — seriously.

I’ll wait…

…

…

…

Okay. Did you think about an answer?

It’s something I’ve done, personally, in my own biz.

Gary Halbert did it, multiple times. Jay Abraham does it. Rich Schefren recently did it.

And every top marketer you know of, both online and offline, has done it… or is busy getting it done.

And it’s what I advise smart-but-struggling clients to do: Hook up with someone who knows their shit… who you’re compatible with.

No matter how smart you are… you’re gonna face problems, sticking points, and disasters that are beyond your knowledge, your ability, and even your burning desires to succeed.

In the “downtown alley” analogy… you know what I’d do before boarding that bus?

I’d spend some serious time with someone who knows how to fight, and learn every trick in the book. I’d spar, risking a little blood to get these skills down. I’d put in the time and energy to reach a level of “save my life” confidence.

But I wouldn’t stop there.

When I got off that bus… I wouldn’t be alone.

Depending on what I suspected or knew I was gonna face… I would surround myself with proven, vetted experts who were clearly motivated to watch my back.

I’d be an 800 pound gorilla, flanked by other 800 pound gorillas.

Do you understand how this applies to business?

This “hook up” advice is pliable. It might mean hiring a freelance writer you can develop a great long-term relationship with.

Or it might mean finding an expert you can do regular consultations with (not just one-off random consults)… who will commit to understanding your situation at the deepest possible level, and use every possible resource to fix what’s keeping you up at night.

Or it might mean finding a partner.

Or a killer personal assistant.

Or just someone who is proactive, honest, effective, and lives by a professional code.

You won’t find the people you need easily.

You’ll have to apply the same steps as you would for doing anything else that mattered — get info, get advice, test the waters… and (as always when dealing with humans) kiss however many frogs you gotta kiss to find the right one.

Quick example: Halbert busted onto the “guru” scene completely on his own. He had the chops, the energy, and the plan to go several years… before he realized he needed help.

He hired a BUNCH of freelancers. I was one of them. Sometimes quickly, sometimes over a period of months, the others ran screaming from the gig.

I stayed. I figured it out.

And, as soon as he was ready, he asked me to partner up on certain projects.

A lotta frogs got smooched in that process. We both learned massive lessons along the way that I’m still using every single time I deal with people.

Here’s the thing: Even the most brilliant entrepreneur can “do it all” for only a short part of the ride.

This is basic “E-Myth” stuff.

When you’re hyper-aware of your situation, you will know when the time has come to get help.

Most folks wait a little past the right time… which is okay, as long as you DO get hip to what you need.

The top marketers all intermingle with behind-the-scene brainstorms. We call each other mercilessly for in-depth advice and specific help (like on copy).

I stalked Stan for two years, knowing he was the right guy to partner-up with. The drawn-out process was well worth it — we get along, he’s ridiculously smart, and we’re both having fun while making money and reinventing Marketing Rebel from the ground up.

For clients who come to me with pain and leaks in their sales funnel and mysterious blind alleys in front of them…

… I have always suggested that they secure long-term (or even permanent) professional-level help.

Now, with the economy presenting unique challenges across the board…

… this is the FIRST piece of advice I explore with everyone.

Sometimes it’s just finding a good freelancer who’ll hang around. Sometimes it’s finding a good group to brainstorm with. Sometimes it’s hiring someone to handle the grief-parts of your biz.

Sometimes, it’s a full-on partner.

The main thing is to get another mind obsessing on your biz. Get some “out of the box” thinking. Have your assumptions challenged, and your bullshit called out. (This is critical, if you want to get anywhere good in life.)

With the right help, you’ll advance quicker…

… your results will multiply (not just double)…

… and, when you find the right people to watch your back, the synchronicity will provide fresh energy, verve, nerve, and sheer raw enjoyment.

Look.

I went solo as a freelancer determined to make it work… on my own.

Which was the right decision at the time… because back then there WEREN’T any resources to watch my back. I didn’t know any other freelancers. There were no books, or courses, or consultants, or anything else that would help.

I had a few clues, and a burning desire.

However, my “do it myself” program quickly succeeded to the point where I plateaued.

I could go no futher without help.

So I hooked up with an agent, who introduced me to other writers and marketers. My network expaned, and I started hooking up with compatible souls.

And when those hook-ups didn’t pan out, I moved on.

It IS a process.

But it’s not difficult, once you step back from fatalistic thinking, and start being proactive about it.

Going it alone is great…

… until it’s not anymore.

When your reality check reveals that you need help…

… dude, get the help.

The winners are Yoda, who almost blew it by being obtuse in his comment… but saved it with a smart-ass “Yoda” style quote: “Smart enough alone, you are not.”

And Matt Desmet, who pretty much nailed it several hours later (minus the obtuseness) with: “The answer, I believe, is to find people who have the wisdom and the knowledge to buckle down and make it through no matter what the circumstances or economy are doing.”

Guys, I’ll have either Diane or Anne get in touch with you, and ship your prize out.

Good work.

Everyone, good work.

This was a great exercise.

I’m sure we’ll be talking more about this process later on.

Stay frosty,

John Carlton

P.S. In case anyone was thinking this was some sneaky way to pitch the upcoming Hot Seat Seminar…

… it’s not.

I’m not that clever.

Plus, there are only a few seats available at this event. It’s not a large enough venue to accomodate everyone who needs the kind of help I’m talking about.

It is, though, a tremendous opportunity for the right person. The first step, for most of us, in finding good resources and experts who won’t screw you over…

… is to hang out with a bunch of them first.

The networking is always a major appeal for any event. The other biz owners you meet may become the best brain-storming partners you ever find.

And getting an up-close-and-personal taste of the experts can change your life.

That’s why the Hot Seat events always generate such over-the-top testimonials, each of the few times we’ve held one.

This is totally unlike the large seminars, where you can remain anonymous the entire time, and it’s almost impossible to get any quality “face time” with the movers-and-shakers.

In a Hot Seat event, there are just a handful of folks involved — a small number of lucky attendees, and a seething crop of experts I’ve hand-picked to go deep with every single attendee’s situation.

The relationships that occur are profound.

So, yeah, if you know in your heart that you should be attending this Hot Seat event in San Francisco (Feb 21-22), then you better hurry and check it out:

www.carlton-workshop.com

It WILL be the most shocking and worthwhile reality check you’ve ever experienced.

Again, though — it’s very limited, and not for everyone.

Your journey may take you in other directions.

What’s important is that you TAKE that journey.

We’re here to help, if we fit what you need right now.

Like I said, I’ll be posting more on this subject later.

[Quiz] The Single Most Important Slice O’ Biz Advice

Thursday, 8:41pm
Reno, NV
“What you want, baby I got it…” (‘Retha)

Howdy.

Let me warn you up front here: This is not a trick question.

It’s totally on the level.

Still, I bet most folks botch it.

So, before I even ask…

… let’s sweeten up the stakes a bit.

The first person to answer correctly… will be shipped a free copy of the “Kick-Ass Copywriting Secrets of a Marketing Rebel” course (text and CDs). (Or, if you already own that notorious course… you can ask instead for a copy of the currently unavailable “Freelance Course” — the manual that launched a generation of mercenary writers into the Web.)

(The Kick-Ass course currently goes for $299, by the way. And the Freelance manual, when sporadically released, goes for even more.)

(So, yeah… nice prizes.)

But you gotta be first…

… and you gotta be right.

Okay?

Okay.

Here’s the question:

(Quick set-up): Just 3 months ago, I was offering consulting clients a small menu’s-worth of specific advice on how to deal with economy-caused business problems.

All of that advice still holds true. Biz owners who have followed any of it have seen results “hot” enough for them to chase me down (through email or by phone) to demand that I hear their success story. And use it in my “Wall O’ Testimonials”.

However…

(Tease): Just ONE of those specific pieces of advice has stood out from all the others.

It is, in fact, now the single most important thing I make sure EVERY new consulting client hears. And hears clearly, without any ambiguity.

So…

(Ta-daaa!): What do you think that one piece of advice IS?

Do you think it is, perhaps…

Get hip to Twitter?

Buy a new computer? Move up to a Mac, or sideways to a hot-rodded PC?

Learn a new application? To maybe boost your SEO, or your PPC… or to evaluate your data?

Read some new books?

Attend a bunch of seminars?

Buy new gear, like video equipment?

Or what?

If you’ve been reading my drivel for any length of time, you SHOULD have the answer tripping lightly off your tongue already.

Hint: It’s not learning how to write copy.

Oh, sorry. That just bolluxed a whole bunch of incoming answers, didn’t it.

Okay. No more hints.

Send in your answer through the comment section, below.

It will automatically be time-stamped, so the winner will not be in doubt.

C’mon.

It’s the end of the week.

An exciting, wild ride of a week, too.

But you’ve still got at least eight brain-cells left today — plenty to cogitate on this question, and give me your answer (before boogy-boogy-ing out to TGIF Land).

You could win that nifty prize. I’ll sign whichever prize you choose, too. I never sign anything anymore. That’ll make it rare and valuable and cool.

Let’s give this little quiz a time limit of…

… oh, how about 27 hours and six minutes.

That means midnight, west coast time, Friday is the cut-off.

It’s a worthy question to ponder.

Remember: I am (blush) one of the most sought-after advice-givers in the direct response marketing/advertising game.

There’s a reason for that.

And there’s a reason why — after a very long time of having many pieces of advice in my “first response” to any client — a single marching order now dominates every consultation I agree to.

Okay, one more hint: It’s because of the economy that I’ve narrowed my “menu” down to one screaming suggestion.

Can’t stop — one last hint: It works like crazy to nail every single goal, wish and target you have.

Okay.

Let’s hear your answer.

Stay frosty,

John Carlton

Friday Afternoon Update:

Wow. Some really great stuff coming in.

In fact, answers were coming in so hot and heavy, the “comment accepting process” jammed at some point late last night… and some folks had to email my assistant Diane. (It’s working fine now.)

And, as more than one person observed… even though the answers aren’t the one I’m looking for… this is one hell of a nice list of ideas, tactics and strategies. An education in and of itself.

Great work. From everyone.

Now, about the prize…

So far, there is just ONE person who’s close enough to win.

He could still be trumped by a more precise statement of the advice I’m talking about. But if (by midnight tonight) no one nails it exactly, then we have a “Close Enough” winner already.

However, the contest is still very much wide open.

I’m happy to see so much solid thinking going on. That’s good. You win by forcing your brain to work this way, you know.

It’s also wicked-good fun to torture everyone like this.

And… I’m frankly a little surprised this wasn’t answered quickly last night.

It’s not rocket science.

It IS, I’m now seeing, slightly out-of-the-box for most small biz owners and entrepreneurs, though.

I should add: Every client I’ve laid this advice on has taken it, eagerly.

I’ll post the answer — and the name of the winner — early tomorrow.

Go get ’em.

Butt-Saving 101a

Monday, 7:34pm
Reno, NV
“He’s a well respected man about town, doing the best things so conservative…ly..” (Kinks)

Howdy…

Well, that was fun.

My last post (on the mojo-sucking power of missing deadlines) seems to have caused much gnashing of teeth and rending of clothes…

… plus a lot of self-reflection that may even lead to behavior changes amongst the professional class.

That would be so cool.

However, I know from shameful experience that merely vowing to do better ain’t enough. Human behavior is inherently stubborn and our brains insubordinate.

It’s freakin’ HARD to change… even when change is in your best interest.

No, wait — especially when it’s in your best interest.

So…

… let’s look at a “brain tool” you can borrow to help you change.

I call it…

“The Miracle of Soft Deadlines.”

Here’s what it’s all about: Meeting hard deadlines pretty much defines you as a professional in advertising or marketing. (As well as everywhere else in life.)

This is especially true if you’re part of the team creating the ad — either writing the words, or delivering the tech side (including graphics and all the other details required for finished product).

Early in my own freelance career, I pledged (to myself) that I would commit fully to the professional’s code: Be where I said I’d be, when I said I’d be there… having done what I said I’d do.

Though painful at times… adopting that creed has helped me to never miss a hard deadline.

However…

… I have missed oodles of “soft” deadlines.

In fact, I’d be doing it wrong if I HAD met all those softies.

Let me explain the tool: One of my most memorable quotes (from an early Rant newsletter) has got to be “Deadlines are the world’s greatest invention — without them, nothing would ever get done.”

For a guy like me… a full-bred slacker addicted to easy ways out… the discovery of the POWER of a deadline, taken to heart, was mind-blowing.

Suddenly, I was getting all this stuff… done.

Amazing.

However, I quickly learned that JUST setting a main, hard deadline was dangerous.

Why?

Because it was arbitrary.

Just plucking a date from thin air, and making that your deadline… is asking for trouble.

You can really get your butt in a sling that way.

The much better path…

… is to use the same tactics smart folks use to solve ANY problem: Break it down… and attack the pieces.

This is the main secret behind Hot Seats, of course. What can seem like a single, monolithic problem that defies fixing…

… is really just a puzzle that needs to be taken apart, and examined in detail…

… which (ta-daaaa!) always deconstructs that monolithic capital-P Problem, and gives us bite-sized chunks that are easily dealt with.

Often, what seems like The Problem (“Not making enough sales”) is really just a symptom. As in: fresh competition is undercutting your prices, beating you at PR and pay-per-click, and/or winning hearts and minds with better copy.

Trying to get more sales without understanding the elements of the situation will leave you dazed and confused. And going broke.

But figuring out it all stems from a price thing… or an SEO thing… or (even better) simply a matter of re-establishing your go-to-guy position with a copy overhaul…

… well, all that is EASY to put into action.

“Break it down.”

Keys to the universe, my friend.

With deadlines, I learned to lay out a functional, extremely practical time-line for any new project… and set up multiple soft deadlines to support the hard final deadline.

A soft deadline would be, for example, receipt of the “Care Package” from the client, containing all the research materials I’d requested to get started.

Or the date I wanted to have all interviews with the client and his minions done.

Or (for myself) the day I had a big batch of headlines and USPs written out, so I could choose the best and get moving to bullets and offer.

Or… and this is a biggie… the arrival of the first payment for the gig.

Listen closely: Soft deadlines are SUPPOSED to be missed, much of the time.

They’re like red flags to alert you when the project is behind schedule…

… or (for freelancers) that your client is going to passive-aggressively blow your hard deadline.

And when that happens… no amount of “proof” from you that he never sent the info you requested, or never allowed you to interview his staff, or never provided testimonials…

… will change the emotionally-charged subject line in your clients brain: “Writer Misses Hard Deadline, Causes Grief And Anguish!”

Bottom line: If you take the job, you accept the fact of a hard deadline.

And if you’re a true pro, you will meet that deadline…

… no matter what.

There are no excuses.

But here’s the kicker: If you discover you WON’T be able to meet a hard deadline… you are responsible for finding another way for the deadline to still be met.

The easiest way to do that… is to not accept the job in the first place.

I’ve turned down more jobs in my career than I’ve accepted, by nearly a 9-to-1 ratio. And the main reason I refuse a job… is because I don’t believe the client has his shit together.

And when he doesn’t have his shit together, I will be the one taking the blame when the project dies a gruesome death.

This is where soft deadlines come in big-time.

I have, over the years, figured out how long it “should” take me to write copy for a given job. The actual tapping of keys (creating the final draft of the manuscript for the ad, website, or whatever) is not difficult to judge.

A few days, maybe a week or so. (Tip: Most “A List” writers produce around two pages of copy a day. No matter how many hours they spend “writing” — at the end of the day, they’ve got two pages, max. This is superb-level copy, though… not hack work. I’m not putting down hacks, either — I can go into Hack Mode myself, and ram out 8 pages a day of schlock. Sometimes, schlocky copy is all that’s needed to make a sale. Keep that in mind when learning to judge your own capacity for production.)

(So, if I estimate a Website, for example, will end up needing around 12 pages of “A Level” manuscript copy, I know I’ll need to set aside at least 6 days of writing. Or two days for Hack Mode stuff.)

(Side Note: This skill was easier for us to learn back in the Old Days of direct response. The average long-copy direct mail letter was either 8 or 12 pages. Never 9 or 10 or 13… because the letter would be printed in “signatures of 4 pages each. That’s how the printing process worked. So you wrote final copy to “fit” — which is something no Web-oriented writer can get his brain around, because it doesn’t matter how long copy is online — there’s no printing, and thus no physical limits.)

(And more’s the pity, to my mind. Too many writers online today are needlessly verbose, and waste reader’s time with repititious, tangent-infested copy that takes forever to cover short distances of a pitch.)

Now, for me to figure I needed, say, 5 days to “write” an ad was just the beginning.

Next, I’d break down the process required BEFORE I sat my butt down to tap keys.

The first payment, of course, is first on the list. (I was as ruthless about this with huge clients as I was with entrepreneurs… and with old friends. I refused to even waste a single brain cell on the project until the check cleared the bank… and every day that check was late, I pushed back the hard deadline for final copy. This caused a ruckus at places like Rodale, who faced printing penalties in the 6-figure range… and I’m pretty sure I’m still the only writer they’ve ever dealt with who had Marketing VPs hand-carrying checks from accounting to be Fed Exed overnight… to a writer.)

(That really frosted them, too. The natural tendency of all VPs, everywhere, is to regard a copywriter as a lower life-form, unworthy of common respect. This is true even in ad agencies, ironically. So I delighted in rubbing executives noses in the fact that the copy really was driving the bus…)

(No wonder I was blacklisted at Rodale, before that first piece became a control that mailed for 5 years… and became a First Choice for jobs there.)

(But that’s how a professional SHOULD work. As the hired pro, you are The Adult In The Room. The client will want to dick around, and put you on a 60-day payment arrangement because “that’s the way our accounting is set up”… as if that’s YOUR fault.)

(Well, screw that. I work for money. I have zero qualms about sharing a “Get Paid First” professional ethic with hookers, mercenaries and lawyers. If you’re gonna trade services for moolah, make sure your client understands that the moolah must be delivered, on time, as agreed… or we shoot the deadline.)

Also in my contract were dates for delivery of information… interviews… testimonials… etc.

The check, and the final copy were quasi-hard deadlines. I could be reasoned with, but never compromised.

The rest of my demands were SOFT deadlines. I fully expected the client to miss some or all of them… because I purposely padded the time between these soft deadlines to allow for the very human tendency of clients to MISS EVERY IMPORTANT DATE PUT IN FRONT OF THEM.

And the first soft deadline a client missed triggered a very pissed-off call from me, making it clear that HE was creating a situation that threatened the final, hard deadline.

So get those materials together, right now, and Fed Ex them to me.

Jerk.

Okay… I didn’t spend my career calling clients jerks, or screaming into phones at them.

But it did happen occasionally.

I took my job as The Adult In The Room very seriously.

And laying out soft deadlines helped me keep the pressure on the client to get me what I needed.

Cuz I couldn’t even start those 5 days of writing until I had my USP-creation research done… my lists of features/benefits ready for bulletizing… my hooks discovered… the offer nailed down… and all the rest. (For further study, please refer to the Simple Writing System.)

Thus…

… soft deadlines are like the pillars of support for any real hard deadline. They’re the teeth in the beast’s mouth.

And there IS an art to “breaking stuff down” into bite-sized chunks… both for problem-solving (in Hot Seats and consulting), and for figuring out the reality of hard deadlines.

Maybe we’ll get around to explaining that part of Butt-Saving 101 later on.

What do you think?

Stay frosty,

John Carlton

P.S. Of course, the BEST way for you to get a quick education in how professionals break stuff down for problem-solving…

… would be to attend my new Hot Seat Event in San Francisco this coming February 21-22.

I’ve packed the room with a jaw-dropping list of professionals and experts in makiing money through wicked-good marketing. In any economic situation.

And you are guaranteed a Hot Seat when you attend. That means everyone will focus every available resource on you and your situation… resolving every problem you can bring up, and delivering an Action Plan you can put to use as soon as you get home.

In 20 years of doing Hot Seats, I have yet to come across a biz problem that couldn’t be resolved… quickly, and in detail. With a specific path to moving forward, and getting the results you want.

This event is a no-pitch zone — there will be no lectures, no pitches for other products of any kind, no fluff whatsoever.

Just two solid days of hard-core marketing wizardy… focused entirely on you and the handfull of other attendees allowed in.

Spots are just ridiculously limited. We can only do around 6 Hot Seats a day. There are just 2 days.

So yeah, if you’re interested, you better get a move on.

Here’s the link:

http://www.carlton-workshop.com

All will be explained there.

The Reason You Screwed Up

Thursday, 8:26pm
Reno, NV
“Na na… na na na na… hey, hey, hey… goodbye…” (Steam)

Howdy…

Hey, let me know if this post strikes a nerve for ya.

Here’s what I’ve been thinking about: One of the reasons we old fuckers are so valuable in business…

… is that we’ve been around the block so many times, we’re on a first-name basis with many of the life situations that — when you first encounter them — are discombobulating disasters that cause ruin and despair.

However, by your third or fourth go-round…

… what was once a crisis is now pretty much a (yawn) simple and easy fix.

And you know what?

It’s a good thing to have people in your corner packing hard-core life experience to help you through the tough spots.

A good percentage of this life-experience stuff makes its way into my consulting and teaching.

Making money isn’t always about technique, you know.

A huge part of being successful is all about mastering the game of interpersonal relationships with people who are vying to control your Fate.

Some of these people are doing this consciously. This is where the high-end game of Alpha Males and Sociopath Success Freaks and Power-Hungry Sharks is played out.

And the old poker rule is in effect: If you sit down at the table… and you don’t who the sucker is…

… then YOU’RE the sucker.

It can take half a lifetime to learn even the rudimentary rules of how things get done in the smoky backrooms of elite power.

And no, you aren’t even a little bit hip to how it’s really played… no matter how many Hollywood movies about Wall Street you’ve devoured. Or how many times you’ve read Sun Tzu.

The only way to survive the Big Game… is with a little bit of guts, a dash of luck, and a whole big steaming pile of proven skill.

Consider what you’d have to do — actually do, over the next year — to be able to walk into a cage fight with a top UFC champ.

And not have your head torn off.

You better have your chops honed and tested, Bucko. A lucky punch ain’t gonna do it for you.

You better find someone with the necessary experience to help you learn, too, and hold on tight.

But I don’t wanna talk about that high-end game today.

Naw.

Today, I want to dig into the OTHER group of people who are trying to control you.

The ones who are doing it unconsciously.

This should sound familiar to anyone with even a single employee.

Let’s call it the “Don’t Have A Cow” attitude problem. (Think of Bart shrugging off his destruction of someone’s life work.)

Here’s how it works: Several generations of Americans have now graduated from the education system…

… believing that a good excuse is a Get Out Of Jail Free card.

Flunked a test? Forgot to finish your essay on time? Late for class?

No problem… IF you have a great excuse.

I knew a girl in college who killed off her grandmother three times in three semesters. Got her out of taking a final (didn’t study), out of being penalized for skipping a week of class (rock concert), out of not having a paper written on time (didn’t even try).

Granny never found out. And lived a good many more years.

And this girl went on to the Dean’s List, grad school, and a Ph.D.

The lesson learned: You can be instantly forgiven… and even felt sorry for… if you just deliver a good enough excuse for screwing up.

That’s a really, really, really bad lesson to absorb.

Because once you get out in the real world, you have a very rude discovery to make: No one gives a rat’s ass about WHY you screwed up.

The fact you DID screw up is all that matters.

Your excuse will comfort no one but you, as you lick your wounds and look for another job.

This is not a mild problem out there. (I know every biz owner with staff is nodding like crazy right now.)

The hardest thing, I’ve found, to teach budding freelancers…

… is the “Professional’s Code”.

It’s very simple: You show up where you’re supposed to be…

… when you said you’d be there…

… having done what you said you’d do.

That’s it. (This is the way I have translated it, for myself and anyone who’ll listen to me. You may have heard it in other forms. I’ve never come across a better way to say it than this, though.)

The phrase “show up” includes the physical act of appearing where you’re supposed to be… as well as the virtual act of meeting your deadlines.

I did NOT grow up with this Code.

I was a victim of the school system, where few consequences couldn’t be negotiated. (Hell — the cops back then even poured out your beer and sent you home after pulling you over. I knew dozens of guys who’d been nabbed while driving with a bottle of Schlitz in one hand, and not a one of them ever suffered a DUI. Right or wrong, that’s how my corner of the generation grew up.) (I remain unconvinced that too-harsh punishment is better… but SOME punishment is called for. I mean, good grief…)

As a low-level employee with no skills — my standard gig for the first decade or so of my adult life — half the job really was just showing up on time.

However, once the idea of going solo as a freelancer took hold, I started looking seriously at how the really successful dudes were conducting themselves in business.

I vowed, going in, that I would meet all deadlines, no matter what. And BE that guy who could be trusted with delivering the goods to anyone who paid me.

I saw what the alternative is, in gruesome detail, during my time in a catalog art department. There were multiple deadlines for photo separations, camera-ready art boards, and every word of copy… and anything that wasn’t done by the printing deadline…

… wasn’t gonna make it into the catalog.

The printing presses were in Nashville. They ran 365 days a year, and you booked your slot 6 months in advance. You missed your deadline, too bad. You paid anyway for the time and manpower.

And you didn’t get your catalog to mail.

This happened to another catalog in the area… and they simply vanished soon after.

Missing a hard deadline literally was a mortal wound to their ability to continue doing business. They had nothing to mail. No money came in. Clients wandered away. Banks were not nice about outstanding loans coming due.

Wow.

That’ll sober you up.

In 25 years of writing for clients, I have never missed a hard deadline for copy.

Let me repeat that: 25 years, zero violations on my deadline record.

My dearly-missed pal, Gary Halbert, used to consider that criminal… cuz it made guys like him look bad. (He didn’t make a habit of it, but he did miss some very important deadlines on occasion. The chaos that ensued was often costly.)

This concept of never missing a deadline is the hardest thing to teach rookie freelancers.

It’s almost like you gotta experience disaster first… and it’s gotta make a deep impression on you… before your mind can shift into Professional Gear.

This is why surgeons endure such rigorous training. Saying “Sorry, I was distracted” after botching an operation doesn’t cut it.

Pilots, too. Accountants. Snipers. Astronauts. Film editors. Lead singers.

You screw up… you disembowel the entire gig.

And your fabulous excuse doesn’t fix anything.

No one wants to hear it.

Because of you, other people now have an emergency on their hands.

Entire kingdoms have crumbled from screw-ups by people who thought they had a great excuse. (“I had that 3-penny nail right here, sir… I dunno, it must have slipped from my hand back there. My arthritis has been really bad, you know, and…”)

In school, a well-crafted excuse will get you sympathy and a do-over.

In real life… not so much.

And yet… I am NEVER surprised when confronted with a fresh case of someone I’ve put massive trust in… screwing up.

And offering an excuse.

It’s the default brain setting of almost everyone out there.

And yet… it’s really not that tough to adopt the Pro Code. It takes a committment, and requires the skill to tell others “no” when faced with tough choices.

And to tell yourself “no”, when your very natural urge to flake out and bail on your responsibilities flares up.

Everyone would rather party, or even veg out… instead of buckling down and finishing the job you signed up for. That’s the easy path.

Being a true rebel, nowadays, means embracing responsibility with gusto and energy.

The last rebellious act in business, really, is to commit to success.

No matter what.

Your social life will suffer. The family will get mad at you. No one will understand, and you will toil without immediate gratification from outside sources. (Your rewards must come from your own heart and sense of self-respect.)

And it all rests on a simple foundation.

If you take on a job, you do it.

You kill the whiny beasts in your head, wrestle your ADD into submission, push through pain and grief and disaster to do what you promised you’d do.

That’s how that US Airways pilot saved all 150 passengers and crew in that emergency landing in the Hudson River today.

That’s how all professionals worthy of the title treat every responsibility they have.

It’s hard to do. It’s kinda lonely at times.

But committing to it will instantly change your life forever.

And remember: It’s no crime not to have this code already in your bag.

But once you’re made aware of it, you lose big by choosing to ignore it. (So, yeah, it’s a dirty trick on my part to throw it in front of you like this.)

Today — in business, and in conquering the mounting ills of the world — we need professionals more than ever.

The hardest and most rewarding jobs will not get done through excuses.

What do you think?

Love to hear your comments, below.

Stay frosty,

John Carlton

P.S. I do not yet have a site to send you to…

… but I’m letting slip the news that, at the end of February, we’re hosting a small, super-intense Hot Seat event in San Francisco. I’ve packed the room with experts and know-it-all wizards.

If your business needs a “marketing intervention” because of falling sales, new competition, or any other problems interfering with your pursuit of fat profits and happiness…

… then you need to seriously consider this event.

The seats will go fast. We only have room for a handful of folks, because of the intense personal attention given to each attendee.

Details soon.

So seriously — stay frosty.