There’s only one book I’ve read over and over. Because it reveals entire worlds in single sentences. And it triggered stand-alone thoughts for me, from so few words, that would keep me thinking for hours.

“Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they aren’t after you”

Reminds me that there’s more than one reality. Yours. And everybody else’s.

“He knew everything there was about literature, except how to enjoy it.”

Reminds me that experiences beat knowledge.

“He was a self-made man who owed his lack of success to nobody.”

Reminds me that great writing can make my thoughts swing left, right and left again with astonishingly few words.

And,

“Anything worth dying for, is certainly worth living for.”

Makes me believe that a nine word sentence might just save a life.

But best of all, and briefest of all, when a smirking interviewer pointed out to Joseph Heller that he – Joseph Heller – had never written a better novel than his very first novel, Catch 22, Heller replied:

“Who has?”

Perfect.

I don’t like selling. I’d rather nudge.

My chatter on LinkedIn and 50odd means that, sometimes, people say hello. Sometimes they say thank you. Sometimes they say I’m talking rubbish. Sometimes they say, ‘Can we talk?’ And we do talk. It doesn’t feel like selling. Because I’m not saying, “Hi, buy?” Like so many do on LinkedIn.

But I suppose it is selling because, when I write, this happens:

“Nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, Mychael – can we talk about that thing you wrote?”

Or this,

“Nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, Mychael – can we talk to you about that thing you wrote?”

And sometimes this,

“Nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, nudge, Mychael – can we talk to you about that thing you wrote?”

I could go on. But I won’t. You get the drift.

I don’t like selling. I’d rather nudge.

Maybe check what your business is actually saying… Are you aiming high? Are you wowing? Are you thinking further? Because it’s easier than we might think, to become accidentally ordinary.

I was asked to speak to a lovely founder this week. So I picked up my invisible Brand Director’s chair*, and off I went to meet him.

As I chatted to my super-capable new friend, I asked why he started the business. (Good question, that. When I ask it, brain-vaults whirr, click and unlock. As the dusty memory is re-accessed).

“Well…” Began he. “In my industry, people quote you a price then – many times – charge you more. I don’t like that. What we quote is what you pay.”

I sat silent. Squinted. And stared. My brain was silently spitting scenarios. Restaurants celebrating accurately serving what people ordered. Clothing shops patting themselves on the back for handing you the size you asked for. Taxi drivers feeling cool about turning up on time. Barstaff cheering themselves as they serve you the precise wine you requested. And, as I’d just heard, a professional services company feeling good for charging you what they said they would.

Then, I was back in the room. And on we chatted.

Maybe check what your business is actually saying… Are you aiming high? Are you wowing? Are you thinking further? Because it’s easier than we might think, to become accidentally ordinary.

*I do this because no business has a chair for a Brand Director. They should do, of course. But to be helpful – I bring my own.

PS Ronseal would quite rightly giggle at this thinking, of course. I just think that businesses should deliver all entry-level aspects as a given. Then aim higher, wow, and think further. Good luck.

I describe myself as a writer these days. People describe me as that too. ‘Good with words’. Most of the words I use are actual words. But occasionally, if relevant, I make them up.

At our holiday cottages in Northumberland, we have two Doggy Demuddification Stations. Little green hosepipes with shower heads. Dog shampoo and towels, too.

Why? It’s an expression of ‘true’ dog friendliness. Cottages say they’re dog friendly. But what they really mean is ‘dog tolerant’. Because they charge you extra and assume you’ll use cereal bowls for dog bowls.

But when you go to the bother of making and naming two Doggy Demuddification Stations and a dog hotel, as well as providing bowls, beds, treats, towels, toys, enclosed/inescapable grounds plus a chalkboard that welcomes guests and dogs, by name – all for free – that’s ‘true’ dog friendliness, I think.

I suppose all I’m saying is that if you’re going to do a thing, go all in. Think further. And maybe even make up a word or two along the way, to spotlight what you’ve done.

Question the question. I think you get better answers that way.

LinkedIn sometimes asks us questions. And sometimes, we answer. As a rule, I try to help people do a thing, and 10(ish) people might say thanks. But last week, when I was asked how people should do a thing, I said – just don’t do the thing. At all. Do the opposite. And 20(ish) people said thanks. Weird.

The question:

You’re struggling to convert leads on social media. How can you turn them into sales?

My answer:

Stop selling, and be useful. Be generous. Be valuable. Think like a publisher, not a salesperson. Build a readership by writing undeniably interesting things, consistently. Stop trying to persuade. We know what you’re doing. And it’s boring. So in summary, the best way to harness your writing on social media, as a tactic towards achieving sales, is to stop bloody selling.

Question the question. I think you get better answers that way.

Let me tell you about this milkshake store that Izobel and I used to go to in Hexham. No. Hang on.

Let me tell you about this coffee shop Iz and I went to in Newcastle last week. Wait. Let me tell you about something else.

Let me tell you about these trainers I’m wearing. Err. They’re comfy?

OK let me tell you about UltramapGlobal. They’re set on reducing subsea cable strikes, for the world’s most important subsea cables – to zero.

Let me tell you about this brand new, determined little brand I know. They want to halve the screen time of 2,000 smartphone owners each year. So over TWO HUNDRED YEARS of ‘Waste-of-Fucking-Time-Time’ (TM) can be reinvested into something useful. Every. Single. Year.

And let me tell you about this Coffee Shop and Kitchen Izobel and I were in yesterday. It’s food-waste zero AND is bringing people together in beautiful and surprising new ways. They believe people change food. And food changes people.

Look. You know what?

If nobody’s sharing your story. If you’ve never posted, or said, ‘Thank you for sharing our story.’ Maybe it’s because you haven’t got a story worth sharing.

Pause. Grab a coffee. Have a think.

What IS your story?
What DO you want people to say about you?
Why DID you start your business in the first place?

Take control of your story. Write your story down – and tell it. It’s too important to leave to chance.