Hello dear readers,
It’s the end of a weird summer; yet, life marches on. I have a first grader now, and sent her off on her first day of school wearing a uniform and a smile underneath a mask. On the work front, our team has been diving into the deep end of the feedback pool — from interviewing our network to doing our first round of peer 360 feedback, from customer sessions to prospective client calls. Fertile ground for learning new insights about our space as well as the way we learn — this month’s themes.
Show it. Get…
I hope you’re enjoying popsicles and midriffs, balmy evenings and outdoor dining. After going through an eventful July with my family (Covid! Quarantines! Ankle fracture! NYC!) it’s good to be back at home and approaching some more regularity.
Last month, my head was all over the place, as you can see from the variety of these threads, but besides a few reflections, a common theme seemed to be: tackle a big problem by whittling it down to a few bite-sized ones. Oh the joy of lists!
Isn’t this meta now?
Know them to avoid them.
You’re looking good. Yeah you.
It’s nice to see people again. It’s nice to do some work again in person
I’m deep in the muddy waters of execution, aka the “actually doing” part after you make a plan, so a lot of the past month’s threads are practical little guides: questions to ask, balls to juggle, reminders to jot down.
Without further adieu…
What does it mean, really, to be excellent at “executing”?
… and am therefore terribly sensitive about.
Here in California, the cherries are crimson sweet, Disneyland is making magic for families once more, and I’ve gotten to reunite with a few friends and tell them in person how much I’ve missed them.
Over the past month, our team has been growing in size, which has me thinking about recruiting, early product development, and why we do what we do.
What should be next in my topic queue? I’d love to hear from you.
Comfort with ambiguity + trust in the process = critical for innovation
Hello dear readers,
I hope you are well, and healthy, and that the sound of spring rains give you pleasure. Over the past few months on my tweet thread journey, I meandered through embarrassing personal stories, company lore, and a metaphor or two.
What should be next in my topic queue? Write me your suggestions.
How to win in product development with fewer resources.
How asking more often leads to greater generosity all around.
I hope the sun rays feel like smiles on your skin. I hope the spring air fills you with optimism. I hope you can hug your loved ones soon. Here’s the last month of essays-in-the-form-of-twitter-threads.
Who tends to think this way? Why is it unhealthy? What are the actual regrets of the dying?
If I had seven tweets to send to a younger version of myself, this would be it.
Welcome to the second edition of Weekly Essays in the Form of Twitter Threads.
As Shreyas Doshi, Grandmaster of Wise Product Tweets once told me, Twitter is a great medium for learning! Easy on the eyeballs, quick on the reshareability. And like some kind of chemist, you’re forced to distill what you know into its simplest essence. How to make it not fortune-cookie obvious, but not so complex that you repeatedly slam into the cold stone wall of the 280-character limit while trying to coax out a nuanced discussion until you give up to look at NFT art instead? …
It’s 2021! And I had every intention of writing an ode to the New Year, something warm and comforting with a touch of spice, like a good gumbo.
But then my toddler decided that his favorite thing to do now is open every drawer in the house and bulldoze the contents. Then, there was the insurrection to process, and the sea shanties, and the gamestonks, and what do you know the month is over. Oh, and interspersed in there somewhere is a tale of company building. People used to tell me that company building was all-consuming. They’re absolutely right.
My first full-length novel, The Shadow Gods, was a story about a modern-day goddess of love who becomes a pawn in a high-stakes political game.
My second, The Chances, was about a cat-mouse-game between a pair of identical high school twins, one a detective and the other a thief.
My third, Neath, was about a forsaken underground kingdom plotting its revenge in the last days of civilization.
And lastly, Game of Chances was a combo concept: a pair of identical high school twins, one a detective and the other a thief, discover they are modern-day gods in a high-stakes political…
Over the years, I’ve encountered my fair share of trolling, and what I’ve learned is that it’s an art. What the finest trolls know is that in order to really get under someone’s skin, the attack must fulfill two conditions: 1) some tiny part of the person believes the message is true; and 2) they’re ashamed of it.
Suppose you tell me you’d rather eat dirt than my cooking. That’s rude, but I’m not going to get defensive. This is because I’m not ashamed of my cooking: I know the insides of my pots are scorched from many a kitchen…