January 11, 2010
You don't have to sound all grown-up and boring
I’m going to let you in on a little secret I’ve learned in two-plus decades as an official adult (and it’s a secret that also happens to apply quite nicely to PR): Growing up isn’t just about learning the rules of proper decorum. It’s also about learning when it’s appropriate to unlodge the stick from your derriere, tell the world to cram it, and live a little.
Glen Kelman, CEO of Redfin — and, apparently, one of my kindred spirits — wrote a fantastic missive, “DIY PR.” Kelman’s post outlined 10 reasons why entrepreneurs should ditch the agency and do their own PR. This is number three:
“You don’t have to seem all grown-up and boring. Every entrepreneur feels vaguely disreputable. Maybe you drive a crappy car. Maybe you never went to prom. There are enough stuffed suits in this world to fill fifteen Wall Street Journals a day. As anyone who watches American Idol will tell you, what this spun-out, over-hyped world is absolutely famished for is a little genuine personality. And, outside of your technology, it’s probably the only thing you have. So stop trying to be like IBM and just be yourself.”
Go ahead and ask a journalist about the worst interview she’s ever had, the one she walked away from fuming, the one that made her want to stick needles in her ears, and she’ll likely tell you some version of, “He sounded like he practiced his lines in the mirror for a week before the interview. He had nothing REAL to say.”
The irony is that we are all grown-ups here — and to get to this point in our lives, we’ve had to plow through a lot of obstacles, be the butt of some jokes, feel the heartache of more than a few failures, run in circles, laugh through tears, and step in some dog doo. That’s real life — and the same stuff that shapes a good life makes for a good story.
Now, I know there’s a flip side to being an adult. The Fear Factor kicks in. We stop seeing the first snowfall as a potential snowman and start seeing it as a car accident or broken hip waiting to happen. We think — a long, long time — before we leap, and sometimes we decide it’s better to keep those orthopedic-clad feet firmly planted on the ground.
When we do take risks — like, um, opening a restaurant — we get so worried about not succeeding that we may try so hard to be everything to everyone that we aren't ultimately anything to anyone.
In other words, we intentionally suck the life right out of things, because life is risky.
But the conundrum is that there’s nothing interesting in life that comes without risk. No one wants to read about the pristine, scrubbed version of you. Not only would that version of you be unbelievable, she would be unlikable and dull. I’m not suggesting you focus on your difficulties, but if you’re going to cut the cord and DIY your PR, you need to get comfortable with the real you telling the real story — warts and all.

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