I can still feel the pit in my stomach.
Every time I stepped into the batter’s box as a baseball player I felt the same feeling:
Fear.
For one, the fear of getting hit in the face with a fastball was pretty great.
But as scary as that fastball was, there was something way more terrifying to me: the curveball.
Not because the curveball was more dangerous physically. Honestly, if I was struggling at the plate I would have loved to get a free base by getting hit with a soft curve. No, the curveball represented something much more terrifying:
Failure.
A curveball meant a greater chance of striking out. A greater chance of disappointing my teammates. A greater chance of disappointing my Dad.
I wasn’t a great baseball player, but if I knew a pitcher didn’t have a good curveball I’d have a pretty good chance at getting a hit. I could time up a fastball and put the bat on the ball. But the curveball was the thing that could make me look like an idiot in front of everyone.
There’s really no way to be good at hitting a curveball unless you’ve played baseball for a while and trained your eyes to recognize its signs. The more you play the more you can see the subtle difference in a pitcher’s release and the different spin on the ball. And if you judge that it’s a curveball and you think it’s coming in the strike zone you have to do one thing: wait.
You’ve got to sit back, let it come to you, and once it’s finally over the plate you crush it. But if you can’t wait and you act too soon you might swing so hard you fall down without hitting a thing. Not only do you look foolish, you’ve failed.
Failure is the most common experience in the sport of baseball.
I’m not the first person to point out that baseball is the best sports metaphor for life. In other sports if you don’t succeed at the most basic part of the game at least 50% of the time then you aren’t going to play. In baseball, the greatest players of all time failed on nearly 70% of their at bats.
And so, despite the fear of getting hit with a fastball or being embarrassed by a curveball, I stepped up into the box every time. Those experiences prepared me for my future life and career more than I ever could have known. I’ve been thrown so many curveballs in the 11 years since I graduated college determined to make a living with my words. So many times those curveballs have caught me off guard and brought me to my knees.
Life just threw me another curveball. But this time I saw the signs and I’m determined to sit back and crush it.
Strike Three
I got laid off at the end of October.
It’s the third time I’ve been laid off in my eleven-year career and the fourth time I’ve lost my job unexpectedly (one time the company shut down). That’s four periods of unemployment in about decade. It’s shameful. Embarrassing. Infuriating. Bewildering.
In that same time period I’ve also written two books, been published in national magazines, appeared on national radio shows, built and led content teams, hosted three podcasts, overhauled entire publications, created huge branded content campaigns, and interviewed hall of famers, Grammy and Emmy winners, and some of the most influential people in the world.
Depending on how you frame the narrative of my career so far I could look like a complete failure or like one of the most successful journalism graduates in my class. When I talk to young writers they see my successes and think I’m someone to model themselves after. When I talk to anyone who isn’t a writer I can sense the subtle judgment and pity they have for me as I navigate this career.
Baseball helps my see that the failure to find a job with a successful and consistent company doesn’t mean that I am a failure as a person. Instead it just means that I have to get better at how I react to the things life is throwing at me. I’ve got to find a way to never be brought to my knees by the unexpected curveballs again.
After so much experience I was better about recognizing the signs that a layoff might be coming. I was determined not to be fooled by it and end up on my knees. So I sat back and waited.
I had a plan and I was ready to crush it.
Controlling the Narrative
Remember this story from 2018? A former Cosby Show actor was pictured working at Trader Joe’s and people online were shocked that he’d “fallen” so far. Instead of cowering away from the attention or making excuses about why he wasn’t a full-time actor anymore, Geoffrey Owens showed up on”Good Morning America” wearing his Trader Joe’s name tag.
He was still a part-time actor. He still wanted to land a big, full-time role. But he wasn’t going to be ashamed of the fact that he had to do what he had to do to provide for his family. And he wasn’t going to let anyone act like working for a living was in any way shameful.
I’ve always held onto that example as a way of taking a perceived weakness – in his case not being a “full-time actor” – and turning it into a super power. Now he became a spokesman for actors all over the country who work “normal” jobs in between doing what they love. And he spoke up for regular working folk to make it very clear that whatever it is you’re doing to legally provide for your family is honorable.
What’s cool is that he was able to land some decent acting jobs after that. Not out of pity but because he showed that he was a reliable, trustworthy worker. In the acting world, not everyone can be DiCaprio. So many people are working multiple jobs to pursue their passions and provide for their families.
Owens controlled the narrative, not only of that story, but also the narrative of his life. To him, there was no issue with not living up to the expectations of people who know nothing about acting.
That story has come back to me lately as I’ve been applying for jobs over the past year. I knew that things weren’t going well at my last company so I looked for something new in the meantime. Every time I sent my resume – with its endless list of random companies in random industries – I cringed a bit.
Each job involved me doing a similar task: taking a content program that was struggling and righting the ship or, in several cases, starting a publication from scratch. Every time I had great success in doing this. I changed the content marketing side of the business and (other sides of the business notwithstanding) achieved the goals that I was hired to achieve quickly.
And then, almost every time, I essentially worked myself out of a job. The company felt my salary wasn’t justified if they could run the programs I set up on their own1.
I’ve been ashamed of the fact that my position has been eliminated so often and I’ve tried to explain it away in interviews. But then I realized that, actually, this is my superpower. I should hide from it or explain it away. I should wear this nametag as proudly as Geoffrey Owens did on “Good Morning America.”
I am so good at creating content marketing processes, hiring and training writers, and implementing strategies that a company can execute on what I’ve created for them for years to follow.
I am so experienced at diving into new industries and products that nothing could be too weird or complicated for me.
I have such a deep understanding of startup culture that I know what these companies need and – vitally – what they don’t need.
That realization has been a long time coming. I started to think about it years ago but never knew how to make a career out of this unique combination of experiences and skills. I thought “content consultant” sounded good. But after enough research I never really saw anyone else calling themselves by this title.
Eventually I found a community of people doing exactly what I wanted to be doing and they were using a word I never thought I’d want to apply to myself because the this word sounds mathmatical. And Scott Bedgood and math are not friends. Never have been. Never will be.
But now, and hopefully for the long-term, I plan on being associated with this mathematical-sounding word:
FRACTIONAL.
My New Business
I’m starting a content marketing business.
For now it will just be myself acting as a Fractional Content Marketer.2
My biggest skillset is helping companies that need content marketing systems and strategies. Often these companies either can’t afford a full-time person at my experience level or probably don’t need this person to be working 40 hours per week to achieve their goals.
I’ll be offering my services to these companies on a part-time, contract basis to provide my expertise to companies who need organic growth via SEO, social media, and email. I believe I can work with 4-6 clients per month depending on the scope of the engagements.
I’ve been building this over the last six weeks, installing my processes, documentation, systems, and building my website. Without even announcing anything publicly I’ve already had several client meetings with my work schedule for early 2024 filling up.
As a subscriber to Trial & Error, and presumably one of my most dedicated fans, you get to check out my website first. Please please please let me know your thoughts. Do I communicate exactly what I want to with the site? Can you tell what I’m offering? And would you want to share this with someone you know who could use my services? Reply to this email with those answers.
Do you know someone with a company that could use these services? Someone who needs to jumpstart their content on their website? Or who has a site that could seriously use some help overall? I’m willing to chat with anyone in any industry to figure out how I can help them achieve their goals without having to hire a full-time person.
The Pit
I have that same pit in my stomach that I had when I used to step into the box in baseball. I am honestly terrified to be doing this as my full-time gig.
But I’m prepared to do what it takes. I’ve steeled my nerves to stay in the box even if that fastball is coming in high and tight or if that curveball is breaking low and away. I’m willing to sit in there and risk failure to hit a home run.
One of the reasons I am confident in myself to try this new thing is this newsletter itself. I started it as a way to challenge myself and to get into silly situations for the entertainment of the reader. But along the way I realized how many things I’d held myself back from just because I feared failure. The biggest change brought by Trial & Error was stand-up comedy. I’d wanted to do it for years but didn’t because I was afraid. Not necessarily afraid of failure onstage, but afraid of what people might say if they knew I tried it.
Arrogant. Annoying. Silly.
Those were words I thought I’d hear if I did it. Instead, what I heard was:
“That’s so awesome, I wish I could do that.”
“When’s the next open mic, you’ve inspired me to try it.”
“When can I come to a show?”
And it’s not always been an easy road to make my way in the comedy scene but I’ve realized that it’s a talent I have that I’d hidden from through fear. I thought being funny was a character trait, and not always a great one in the real world. Instead, it’s a talent that real people pay real money to see me do. I wish I’d started it when I was 20.
At the same time, I think starting it in my 30s was the right thing for me as a comedian. I know so much more about who I am as a person, what messages I want to convey through my comedy, and what I want to accomplish. Most importantly, I’ve lived life. My experiences inform my comedy in ways they never could have at 20.
So, I think it’s the same with my newest venture. I wouldn’t do this if the timing wasn’t right. I have the breadth of experience and skills that I didn’t have five years ago. I have the vision for what I want in my life and my career. And I’ve got the connections to make it happen.
Much of that is thanks to you readers for rocking with me through all my insanity. All the beekeeping, square foods, blood sugar monitors, and, well, scamming. It might be silly, but it means something significant to me. It’s changed my outlook on everything. And truthfully, it’s changed my life.
Now I approach everything like I did baseball. I might get hurt, I might be embarrassed, and I might fail.
But that doesn’t mean I’m not stepping in that box again.
Oh and that baseball thing? It worked out pretty well for me in the end.3
Stay tuned in here for updates on all of the challenges I’ll continue to face down and write about. Next up here though is my 2023 albums of the year list.
If there’s a record I should tune into shoot me a message so I don’t miss anything!
And please subscribe below if you don’t already. Never hesitate to shoot me a message with any potential clients that I could work with as well.
One time I trained an intern so well on something I was doing the company laid me off and thought they could make him do my job. He refused and they were screwed.
In this sense “fractional” means that a business will get a fraction of my time as I split responsibilities between clients. Fractional CMO, COOs, and CTOs are common amongst smaller companies that need their level of expertise but can’t afford their full-time salaries and benefits. This is the same thing I’ll be doing, but from a Director of Content Marketing perspective.
Did I just brag about the *only* real athletic accomplishment of my life 14 years after it happened? Yeah I did. As the years have passed I’ve gone from being an average player on a good team to a power-hitting DH that was vital to the squad’s success. Give me another decade and I’ll be getting MLB draft interest.