We're putting new Masterminds together in TheLab soon! We last did this in January, bringing together 10 groups of 5-8 members, and all of those groups met consistently—it was a massive success.
This only happens a couple of times per year. I literally look through each member's information, priorities, and time constraints and match them into a group that works for them.
And it's included at no extra charge in Standard or VIP membership in The Lab!
If you could use a professional peer group of other creators to learn from, be pushed by, and feel part of something, this is a great time to join us.
One of my biggest regrets as a creator is that I didn't take discovery platforms—namely Instagram—seriously sooner. I quickly recognized the long-term value of relationship platforms like email, podcasting, and private communities, but I discounted social media too much. And as time passed, I felt like I'd missed the boat on Instagram. I was so busy kicking myself for not taking advantage sooner that I started to rule it out.
Maya Angelou famously once said:
"You cannot use up creativity. The more you use, the more you have."
This is typically highlighted in the positive case—the more creative you are, the more creative you become. But the metaphor also works in the inverse: like a muscle, if you don't use your creativity, it atrophies. If too much time passes, getting back into the swing of things feels daunting.
I've experienced seasons of creative atrophy. And when you tiptoe your way back in, only to see abysmal and disappointing analytics staring back at you, it can make things feel even harder.
But social media algorithms today, as much as I dislike the way they've disconnected creators from their followers, have really leveled the playing field. Instagram wants to find and elevate high-performing content from any account, regardless of size. When you post something new (Reels in particular), it will get in front of new audiences. You can even force that to happen by uploading videos as Trial Reels.
At the authors' retreat I attended last week, every other creator there had taken Instagram in particular MUCH more seriously than I have, and it's a major point of leverage for them. One creator there told me that their Stories are viewed by 200,000 people on a bad day.
Instagram holds a unique position in the marketplace. Its userbase is huge, and it seems to be extremely representative of the population (as opposed to, say, X, which feels very homogeneous).
The combination of Posts for new discovery, Stories for engaging your biggest fans, and DMs for conversation and sharing is really unique. Add to that the capabilities of ManyChat, and Instagram has quietly become one of the best ways to build an audience in email, too.
I see lots of examples of writers succeeding there with text-based posts and carousels, and I see people growing quickly when they make it a priority.
So I'm doubling down on Instagram. It was awkward at first, but I'm starting to find my stride. There's an inflection point in the development of a habit where doing the thing flips from being daunting to exciting; from uncomfy to fun. I think I've reached that point! What started as awkward, painful, and embarrassing feels doable, painless, and hopeful. And now that I'm flexing that creative muscle, my creative muscles as a whole feel a lot stronger.
I'm publishing an interview with Riley Brown soon, and he said something that really stuck with me:
"The cool thing about the algorithm now...people don't realize that if your videos suck, no one will see. Like—literally—no one will see it."
I hadn't thought of it this way. In the past, when a video underperformed my expectations, my inner critic said, "WOW. That video bombed! And everyone SAW that it bombed! And they think less of you because of it!"
But that's not true. The fact that it bombed means that virtually no one saw it. And the few who were captured in the views probably just passed right by it! Already my inner critic has shifted to, "Ope. OK, that didn't work."
That seems like a small shift, but realizing that no one saw or cares about a bad video means I can create and share something new—quickly—because it won't make that bad video perform any worse!
I feel unblocked!
I'm no longer self-conscious about posting there. I'm not afraid of failure. I'm not ashamed of my cringe yap videos. I feel like if I just keep chipping away at it, success will be inevitable. And that feeling of inevitability has accompanied any major period of growth in my creator journey.
My newsletter started on MailChimp in 2017. It was OK, but it started to feel really limiting. In 2020, I moved over to Kit. And, I'm not kidding you, the moment I created my account, I began kicking myself for not making the switch sooner. Six years and nearly 70,000 subscribers later, Kit is the foundation of my business.
The editor is actually enjoyable to write in. The automations are insanely powerful—I have sequences generating sales while I sleep that I built myself, no developer needed. Tagging and segmentation changed how I think about my audience entirely. And at every stage of growth, Kit has enabled me to do anything and everything I want with email.
Kit isn't the cheapest option on the market—it's one of my biggest monthly expenses. Even so, I feel like I'm getting a steal for the value it provides me. I invested in the company through the Creator Science Syndicate because I believe in it that much. And the good news: they have a generous free plan!
If you're serious about building a creator business, you need an email platform you can grow into, not out of.
#300: I Spent Three Days With A Dozen New York Times Bestselling Authors
I recorded this just a few days removed from an author's mastermind in Franklin, Tennessee. I got a call from Haley at Kit a few weeks ago—she was putting together a small group mastermind with James Clear, and I was on the list. What I didn't expect was that the rest of the list was a dozen New York Times bestselling authors, including Jefferson Fisher, Vanessa Van Edwards, Amy Porterfield, Nir Eyal, Sahil Bloom, Tori Dunlap, and more.
Over three days, I took pages of notes. This episode breaks down tactical takeaways (newsletter tours, AI consciousness filters, tiny offers), memorable quotes from the authors, insights on event structure that could inform our Boise event, and my honest reflection on authorship and team building. There was zero gatekeeping—everyone was incredibly generous with what they knew.
