Write the first one
I was in an Uber with a CEO on the way to the Denver airport, and I had no idea what to talk about.
The weather?
Do I talk to the driver?
So the view of downtown out my window is nice.
This CEO is a writer. He’s run companies. He knows a lot I don’t.
My mouth stayed shut.
It’s a habit. I’m terrified of looking like a fool when I speak to someone who knows a lot more than me, so I don’t say anything unless I’ve said it over and over in my mind a few times. (I need to work on this.)
I remember it vividly: the anxiety in my chest, the loudness of my voice when I finally did break the silence, the quick turn of his head.
“So what would your one piece of advice be for someone who wants to start a newsletter?” I asked.
He smiled.
I think I breathed.
This CEO is my boss. He’s the captain of a startup. Our team had just spent the week in Colorado brainstorming the next version of our product, and now we were heading home. Our CEO and I needed to get to the airport around the same time, so we shared an Uber. It’d been a long day, so it wasn’t necessary to talk.
But I wanted to ask that question.
And that’s when I heard him say, “Just write the first one.”
Writers have a hard time doing the craft they’re named after.
We like to talk about writing.
We think about it.
We say we wrote once, four years ago, about something we can’t quite remember (but we loved it, for sure).
But how often do we sit down and write what we want to write?
I’ve spent the last few months talking about picking up fiction-writing again (I did it for about four years, then took a year-and-a-half long hiatus). I spent the summer sharing a few ideas with my family and thinking about what I’d left behind on the documents inside my computer.
But I didn’t write.
I think I was scared. I didn’t want to think of what would happen if I opened my heart to the blank white page and let that heart scream through my fingers.
But about two months ago, I finally started. An idea came at me. It hit hard, and I wrote. An hour-and-a-half later, I realized I’d written a few thousand words–and, for the first time ever, what I’d written was the complete outline of a story.
But I didn’t think about writing a newsletter the same way.
I need to have a great idea, I told myself. Once you have it, you can write a perfect letter to hundreds of thousands of people who will soon scramble to read even your grocery list. (I actually don’t make grocery lists.)
“Just write,” Isaac Morehouse told me. “Write the first one. Then write another.”
Because momentum will build.
The habit will create more habits.
The words will birth more words and more ideas.
Just write the first one.
Hey, I’m Morgan. I’m really happy you’ve read this.
This is my first newsletter, and I can honestly tell you I have no idea where it’ll go. But I’m thrilled to try it and try growing it (I’m partially writing this newsletter as a way to figure out how to build an audience around my writing).
In future letters, I’d like to share what I’m learning about marketing, writing, storytelling, plotting when you’re not a natural plotter, brand-building, and more.
By day, I do marketing for a startup called Crash. By night, I’m on second drafts of a short story. I’m also obsessed with Norway and turning systems into stories.
I’d love it if you subscribed to my newsletter–just opt in below.
Thanks for reading. See you soon!