jmag story: ‘Sing, Sync, Score’

Here’s my first story for jmag, the monthly music magazine published by Australian youth radio station triple j. It’s 1450 words on alternate revenue streams for three Australian artists in three areas: TV commercial sync licensing, TV series sync licensing and iPhone app licensing.

I interviewed Michael Tomlinson of Yves Klein Blue, Nick O’Donnell of 26, Karnivool manager Heath Bradbury, Robert Spencer of Staring Man Studios, Jamie Brammah of Hook, Line & Sync, and Isabel Pappani of Undercover Tracks. Click the below image to read the full-sized article; its text is included underneath.

Sing, Sync, Score

Digital distribution allows artists’ music to be heard around the world on a wider range of mediums - and at a faster rate - than ever before. Musicians’ income is no longer delineated via just recorded music sales, gig attendance and merch desk turnover: in 2009, an artist can license their work to many commercial ventures. ANDREW MCMILLEN looks at three avenues.

26: TV series sync licensing

In April 2009, Brisbane indie rock band 26 had their song ‘A New Beginning’ placed in the season finale of the NBC TV show Life. The opportunity arose after the band licensed their music to Brisbane boutique sync agency Hook, Line & Sync, who specialise in pitching unsigned music to film and television executives across the world. What did the Life placement mean to 26?

Guitarist and vocalist Nick O’Donnell admits: “It had a massive effect. We went from doing regular indie band sales - where people stumble across you for whatever reason – into the thousands. The particular NBC music supervisor who placed our song makes a point of featuring indie bands and pumping the music up in the mix, rather than just featuring as a background soundtrack.”

O’Donnell believes that the opportunity - while undoubtedly assisted due to Hook, Line & Sync’s industry connections - was largely serendipitous. “It’s more a case of the music supervisor going after a specific sound, than a band saying, “We’re really great! We’d be perfect for your atmospheric, movie-like soundtrack!” It doesn’t work like that, at all. Music supervisors have a list of what they want: the tempo, lyrical themes, sound, and whether they want an indie act. For example, they might have already had ‘Clocks’ by Coldplay set in the mix, but since they can’t afford to license ‘Clocks’, they want someone who sounds similar.”

O’Donnell remains buoyant about 26’s first sync deal. “It’s certainly given us more of a hunger to present our stuff to more things like that,” he admits. “Sync deals are something you really want to continue happening. There hasn’t been anything negative from it.”

The big question, though: what did the opportunity mean to the band financially? “What we got was a fairly small licensing fee, which is the up-front money they pay you to make the placement. I’m told we got a pretty good average deal for an indie. We’ll get back-end payment as well, from royalties. Once those come in, we get royalties of it being played in 24 or so countries.”

Having been yet to see the royalty cheque, do 26 have any idea what the number on it might read? “We have no idea,” O’Donnell admits. “That’s one thing that’s up in the air.”

Yves Klein Blue: TV commercial sync licensing

A young couple playfully load their car from the third story window. The soundtrack? Yves Klein Blue’s equally playful indie rock tune, ‘Polka’. You may have witnessed the 30-second Mitsubishi Lancer Hatch ad a hundred times in the last 12 months. But how did it come about? Singer/guitarist Michael Tomlinson elaborates.

“The ad company contacted our manager, sent through the ad, and we asked how much they’d pay. And after a brief conversation about the amount, we agreed to have the song placed on the ad. It was the first time we’d agreed to an ad placement; the most important thing to us was that the ad wasn’t a bad match. It wasn’t offensive in its product or execution, so we said ‘yes’.”

“To us, having ‘Polka’ placed in the Mitsubishi ad simply gave us a wider market reach. It doesn’t really matter how people hear our songs. So if ‘Polka’ is forever to be associated with Mitsubishi Lancers, then so be it. A lot more people heard it as a result, so I have no problems with that.”

What did the sync deal mean for the band’s back pockets? “It was wonderful. It wasn’t totally lucrative, but at the same time it’s really helped us pay for our tours. We haven’t seen any of the money personally - we’re not swanning around in luxury cars - but it’s been a fantastic, positive experience.”

“It’s tough to tour Australia,” Tomlinson states. “Until you can charge a decent amount for your shows and know that you’ll sell out a large room, it’s quite difficult to make a profit on touring. Being in a band is like digging a huge hole, taking all the money you’ve ever earned, throwing it into the hole, and burning it. People ask me if I have a job, and I have to reply ‘kind of’, because being in a band, it doesn’t pay money; it just takes money all the time,” he half-jokes.

Despite their win with ‘Polka’, Tomlinson is unsure whether they’ll be able to re-bottle sync-lightning. “I have no idea about how one would go about putting their song ‘in harm’s way’, so to speak. I’m not sure how we were selected, or whether we’ll ever be selected again.”

Some closing advice: “Sync deals are definitely worth doing, but make sure a lawyer reads everything,” Tomlinson cautions. “Their fees are high, but it’s better to pay them and be safe, rather than sign something that you can’t get out of.”

Karnivool: iPhone app licensing

In July 2009, West Australian gaming studio Staring Man released an iPhone application named Pools Of Blood, which allows handheld gamers to defend their tower from hordes of incoming orcs. As the player rotates their perspective to vanquish foes, a hard rock song seems to drive the pace: Perth band Karnivool licensed their single ‘Set Fire To The Hive’ for the game. Staring Man CEO Robert Spencer describes how the studio came to work with one of Australian’s most revered hard rock acts.

“We were developed the game for a couple of months, but it seemed to be missing something. We started talking about background music; as rock fans, we agreed upon Karnivool.” Serendipity is a recurring theme among these three licensing opportunity examples. “We called their management and discovered that it was really convenient timing, because we were working on the game at the same time they were finishing up their second album, Sound Awake.”

Karnivool’s manager Heath Bradbury confirms: “It was a targeted approach from Staring Man, which is part of the reason why we went ahead with it. It wasn’t just a random request for a game soundtrack; it was a request to work directly with the band. And in terms of running a successful gaming company from the most isolated capital city in the world, we can empathise with some of the Perth-based trials and tribulations!”

Spencer continues: “Once we heard ‘Set Fire To The Hive’ we had to increase the gameplay pace! But our original vision was so close to that sound, so it worked out really well. Both ‘Hive’ and Pools Of Blood are departures from what both groups are known for.” In addition to the gameplay in Pools Of Blood, Staring Man built in a Karnivool portal that lists upcoming tour dates, band news and provides a link to buy their music on iTunes.

Manager Bradbury is positive about the experience: “I think we’ll have an ongoing relationship with Staring Man. As Karnivool releases roll out in different territories, we’ll start to see how effective Pools Of Blood has been as a marketing tool. At this early stage, it’s hard to get a tangible idea of the impact that opportunities such as this have on a band’s profile.”

“Financially, licensing is one of the few great areas of the music industry,” Bradbury laughs. “I think it’s going to be more important that managers have direct relationships with the people that run gaming companies and other licensing entities.”

Boxout: Shelling Out

You’ll note reluctance on the bands’ part to divulge exactly what these licensing deals meant for the bank accounts, and for good reason: how would you feel about being asked what your art is worth?

Jamie Brammah of Brisbane-based music licensing agency Hook, Like & Sync says: “For an Australian indie band’s song to be placed on US network television, the upfront fee can range from $1,000-$5,000. It really comes down to negotiation, and how badly they want the track.”

With regard to TV commercial sync deals, Isabel Pappani of California-based licensing agency Undercover Tracks says: “I’ve licensed Australian music to local commercials for $8,000, up to $100,000-plus for nationwide. A new push lately is ‘gratis licensing’, where companies don’t offer an upfront fee. Their justification is that the exposure results in adequate artist compensation. The licensing industry isn’t happy with this, but they argue that there’s always someone to take the deal.”

Here’s the original pitch I sent to jmag.

Alternative revenue streams for Australian artists, focussing on

• iPhone applications
• TV commercial licensing
• TV show sync deals
• Video game sync deals

Premise: digital distribution allows artists’ music to be heard around the world on a wider range of mediums - and at a faster rate - than ever before. Let’s highlight some success stories in these fields, and include some ‘quick tips’ gleaned from the artists interviewed at the end of the article, for bands looking to maximise their online exposure and potential to be chosen for these opportunities.

My intended source for the video game sync deal didn’t come through in time, but the story felt complete with three bands’ experiences in sync licensing.

I submitted the initial article on September 8. A rewrite request came through from triple j on October 1, and I sent through the final copy on October 8. The main change was the ’shelling out’ boxout, which provides some $ figures on what these deals mean for bands.

The story’s in the November 2009 issue of jmag [pictured right], which also features a couple of my live reviews (Metronomy and Paul Dempsey).

Thanks to Jenny Valentish, Everett True and Nick Crocker.

Filed under Published Writing | Tags: 26, a-new-beginning, Add new tag, app, article, Everett True, freelance, heath-bradbury, hook-line-&-sync, Interview, iphone, isabel-pappani, jamie-brammah, jenny-valentish, jmag, karnivool, Life, mitsubishi, nbc, nick-o'donnell, pitch, polka, pools-of-blood, robert-spencer, set-fire-to-the-hive, staring-man, story, triple j, undercover-tracks, Writing, yves-klein-blue | Comments (5)

Bachelor Of Communication

Is it arrogant for me to state that my Bachelor Of Communication is worthless? Probably.

Aside from being a physical reminder of my ability to (somewhat) focus on a goal for three-plus years, a degree is only useful if a potential employer needs to check that box before hiring me. Since I don’t see myself applying for a job that requires a résumé ever again, can you see why I feel this way?

Andrew McMillen became Andrew McMillen, BComm on July 24 2009. An old dude who speak at the ceremony said to my fellow graduands something along the lines of: “Having invested years of your life studying here at the University Of Queensland, you understand that a university education is more than simply attending lectures and handing in assignments.”

Cue sniggers, because that’s exactly what I found my university education to be: a matter of attending lectures and handing in assignments. Essentially, doing enough to pass, without extending myself.

Why didn’t I extend myself? A good question. The old dude was hinting that a university education is what you make of it. There was a whole lot of extracurricular bullshit like networking, volunteering and university politics that absolutely didn’t interest me. So I opted to show up to class occasionally, hand in assignments, and do enough to pass.

I suppose I always felt that studying Communication was a waste of my time. The cute summary of the program I give to people is that Communication is half journalism, half media studies. And entirely rooted in events that happened decades ago; practices that were established centuries ago.

Why didn’t I quit? Another good question. I’ve made it clear that I don’t value the certificate that’ll sit in my closet for eternity. I guess I took the easy way out by sticking to what I’d started, rather than course-correcting from what I constantly felt was a misguided pathway. Call it parental pressure, call it social expectation; my boss last year told me I’d be fired if didn’t finish the degree. Another example of me not wanting to rock the boat, not wanting to cause a scene, not wanting to stray from the presupposed outcome I’ve allowed others to dictate since high school, even while feeling nothing toward the journey itself.

As I write this, I feel a misguided arrogance tickling the edge of my consciousness. It prompts me to spout something like: “Almost everything I was instructed to learn and understand throughout my degree was written at a time before the internet! Newspapers are dying, traditional journalists are displaced! The internet changed everything! That a university education is valuable is a fucking fallacy!”

That’s my irrational response to this discussion. I’ve attempted to curtail it many times, both psychologically and in conversation, but it still tends to rear its head. I know there are a thousand arguments against what I just wrote; entertain me with them if you wish.

I won’t pretend to empathise with my fellow graduates, Communication or otherwise. But as I sat among the hundreds, I thought thoughts like:

• How many of them feel entitled to the certificate they’re about to receive?
• How many of them feel that they deserve to walk right into a job, a career, simply because they passed classes for a couple of years?
• How many of them are prepared for the world in which we live - one that values the sharing of ideas rather than the submission of formulaic assignments that fit into predetermined criteria?
• How many are going to proudly call themselves ‘professional communicators’ for the rest of their lives, without irony?
• How many are going to fail to realise how sad it is to self-define by a Bachelor/Doctorate/Master ‘of’?
• How many of them blog?

I’d like to think that I’m being realistic, here, expressing these sentiments. Refusing to accept that life is as easy as the steps set out by the people who run the business of tertiary education: study, degree, career, happiness, death.

I’d like to think that I’m being honest with myself, and that I’m achieving something by sharing my feelings of discontent.

I’d like to think that I’m being pragmatic by shrugging off congratulations; the myth that completing a degree is worthy of recognition.

But it’s probably pretty clear that my assertions are filled with contradictions, hypocrisy and half-truths. I’m not looking for reassurance. I know where I want to be and who I want to represent, and I know that I didn’t need a certificate to signify either.

Maybe I’m alone on this among my peers, but I’d hope not. It’d make things a lot easier for me were they that delusional, but mostly I’d just pity them.

Kind of ironic that the graduation ceremony’s guest speaker, ABC reporter and journalist Chris Masters - whose speech greatly inspired and motivated me - has been awarded honorary doctorates and degrees, but chose to never set foot within a university.

It’s not all bad. My time at university prompted me to write the first post on this site, in May 2008. That single decision - inspired by frustration and helplessness - pointed me in what felt like the right direction. Namely, far from sandstone hallways and dull classrooms.

Thanks for boring me into action, University Of Queensland! IOU $16,306.

Filed under University | Tags: abc, arrogance, bachelor-of-communication, blogging, chris-masters, education, graduation, Journalism, Knowledge, Life, media-studies, myth, newspapers, professional-communication, reporting, Review, social-expectations, tertiary-education, University, university-of-communication | Comments (13)

Free freelance writing advice from Lucy Robertson, Australian writer and sub-editor

Lately I’m of the belief that the best way to learn is to study and ask questions of those who’re older than me. This realisation only dawned on me after I noticed that I was paying the most attention not to my peers, but to those with decades more knowledge and experience.

And maybe this is a simple, elementary realisation to have - I mean, the entire education system is built on this old-teaching-young structure - but what I’m trying to say is that for perhaps the first time in my life, I’m starting to throw away the bullshit arrogance that’s become a part of my personality, and I’m instead listening to and taking on board the advice of the wise.

Lucy Robertson is a freelance writer and sub-editor who I reached out to after perusing Dave Earley’s list of journalists on Twitter.

Hi Lucy,

I just came across your site after seeing your comment on the Earley Edition Twitter list. I saw that you’re a sub-editor and contributor to many publications, so I thought I’d ask for some advice.

I’m Andrew, I’m 21, I live in Brisbane, and I write for a bunch of places including The Music Network, Mess+Noise, Rave Magazine and FourThousand, as well as my blog.

I conducted an interview in Sydney with one of my favourite writers a fortnight ago - Neil Strauss, six times New York Times bestseller - and I’d really like to get the interview published as a feature article in a publication similar to the Virgin and Qantas in-flight mags.

Any advice you can spare as to how to pitch this article to editors will be very much appreciated. I have an inkling that’s not so much who you are, but who you know - I started writing for TMN and M+N only after being introduced to the editors of those publications by a mutual friend.

Thanks Lucy - nice to e-meet you! :)

Andrew

A couple of hours later, Lucy floored me with some valuable, honest advice that’s applicable to any freelance writer. With Lucy’s permission, I’ve reproduced her reply in full.

I hope you find Lucy’s words as entertaining and inspiration as I did . Thanks again, Lucy.

Hey Andrew,

Great to hear from you! It’s always wonderful to see new writers coming into the industry with a healthy dose of passion. Thanks for stopping by my site, although I have to say it’s not as functional and relevant as yours - I’ve been meaning to get a blog up and running for a while but it keeps getting punted down my ‘to-do’ list. Sigh.

Anyway, to your questions… It sounds like you’re already well on the road to finding some good outlets for your work, and it’s great to be concentrating on something you love. I think the best way to carve out a niche for yourself in such a competitive industry is to write about what you love and make yourself indispensable in that area (another thing I haven’t really managed to do - I’ll write anything!).  So snaps to you.  Street press like Rave Mag and niche independent pubs like FourThousand and Mess+Noise are fabulous for getting some quality bylines and to start building a name for yourself in music/arts writing, so hopefully they’re paying you OK and giving you regular stuff.

You’re also right about it often being who you know instead of what that gets you work … I worked on staff at Text Pacific for VirginBlue’s mag and have continued to get work as a freelancer there because of it. Same with ACP mags (Qantas, Austar, Foxtel, Ralph, etc), where I was a sub for a while and got to know the people who hand out commissions. Buying people a beer after work has never been so important! Try and get to every meet-and-greet opportunity you can, and hand out cards like it’s nobody’s business.

BUT, that said, I’d like to think getting writing work is also about the simplicity of having a great idea at the right time. Editors are usually an overworked, underpaid bunch of creatives who spend their life trying to come up with new angles on old stories or interesting ways to sell an idea. So, if your email lands in their inbox at the right time, with the right wording and after the right amount of caffeine, you’ve usually got a foot in the door. And speaking of doors, SQUEAKY ones help too… I know a few pretty ordinary writers who keep getting work simply because they pitch madly and constantly to spread their chances.

So basically, get an email template up and running and get into the habit of sending it out to as many editors as you can get email addresses for. Aim for two new contacts a week or something to build up your contact list. I’d make your pitch short and sweet, and include everything in the body of the email, because editors don’t often have time to open an attachment. Get straight to the point and just introduce yourself in one line, then put your idea forward with a snappy headline (try things that catch their attention like puns on the theme of your story or name of the writer, etc, or a play on words that sticks in the mind without being contrived) and the first paragraph of your proposed story that will hopefully have them wanting to read more. Sometimes I outline what could follow in the rest of the article a few quick dot-points, including any talent you might have already lined up or are able to get hold of… If you don’t hear anything back from them in a week, send it on to somebody else. And if you DO hear back from them saying they’re not interested or whatever, don’t give up - keep sending it around!

Of course it pays to do your homework and make sure your idea fits with their mag. For instance, at VirginBlue we were constantly getting emails from freelancers pitching ideas about great travel articles on skiing in Japan, which would have been perfect for an airline that actually flew there. Same goes for seasonal stuff - don’t pitch a winter-themed story at the end of winter, because by the time the story goes through three months of so of production, it will be sweltering. Blah blah blah, I’m sure you already know all of this!

Now for the bad news. Unfortunately it’s very hard to get much published as a freelancer at the moment. Lots of my regular monthly commissions have dried up (including Virgin Blue!) because the first thing most big publishing houses do in a downturn is cut staff writers, reign in their freelance budget and start syndicating material from their international partners or sister media channels (for instance, Text Pacific is owned by Channel Seven, so they’re re-working interviews done for TV or by international titles at Pacific Mags, rather than paying for a whole new story).

You’ll also see the same thing happening a lot at Fairfax and News Ltd, which are using a lot of AAP-sourced material and have laid off a shitload of journos in preference of regurgitating older material or taking free contributions (from academics, researchers, etc) and even just cutting book sizes to reduce their costs. Personally, I think this sucks and it’s a bad way to run any successful media organisation, because it’s only a matter of time before readers get the shits with being served the same old story for the same price. BUT, it’s something we all have to deal with for a few months and hope it all blows over sooner rather than later. If you have an economics degree, it might be a good time to be an accountant for a while! Ha haaa. Or not.

Ironically, it’s usually the smaller publishing houses that are used to having their backs up against the wall that keep commissioning good writers during down times, because they live and die on the quality of their rag. Which is where you answer lies… research the THOUSANDS of crazy little magazines floating around out there and pitch to them. You’ll be amazed how many custom magazines, online newsletters, and little niche publications there are out there, and you probably have more chance of winning a pitch because there’s less competition for their bylines. It’s less glamorous, but it pays the bills and builds up some solid contacts that are usually less flighty than the big wigs. At the moment, without much work at all coming in from the likes of Virgin Blue or Qantas, SMH, etc, I’m living off smaller, quirkier commissions from weird places like a business magazine for dentists, an in-store brochure for GO-VITA health stores, some film reviews for Optus magazine and a bit of marketing writing for websites. It’s all super snore-ville stuff, but hopefully I’m just biding my time till the market picks up, the ads start coming back to mags, and the commissions start rolling in again. Fingers crossed.

So, my advice to you is to keep pitching those great ideas to all the pubs you want to write for. Just don’t lose heart if you don’t get heaps of work straight away, because it’s seriously a bit tough at the moment. It will pick up, and when it does, you’ll be ahead of the queue! But also, keep writing for those independent publications and keep writing about stuff you love. And keep up the blog!!

Try not to get ripped off with anything less than about 40-50 cents per word, too. Somewhere around .70 per word is more reasonable, but it’s a fine balance between getting published and earning a living at the moment, so find out where that line is for you. Also don’t write for free for these big guys unless it’s an on-spec arrangement and you think you might get paid for later work.

Geez, I’ve rabbited on. Are you still awake?

I hope that helps mate. Let me know how you go, and keep up the passion levels. It’s hard to do sometimes, but if you really love words then it’s all worth it in the end! And it can be a great lifestyle - even in tough times like … um, right now.

Cheers,

Lucy

Filed under Life, Writing | Tags: advice, Career, dave-earley, Editing, freelance-writing, freelancing, in-flight-magazines, Interview, Journalism, Life, lucy-robertson, magazines, neil-strauss, pitching, proposal-writing, qantas, reporting, text-pacific, virgin-blue, Writing | Comments (11)

Know, II

I just re-read this post, ‘Know‘, that I wrote nearly a year ago.

I don’t know much. But I’m not comfortable with that. Which is why I endeavour to know more every day.

There’s nothing wrong with not knowing if you’re honest with yourself and others. Not knowing should not cause embarrassment. Not knowing should be reframed as an opportunity to learn a new skill or new information.

I’m thinking about what’s occurred since that entry; the new information that I’ve taken on board and the progress I’ve made.

At the time, I was a couple of months into my first office job. I threw myself into that opportunity with fervent passion for several months. I was focussed on the idea of the career, of being the person I believed I should be. And I think about how that belief has changed since that post.

It’s also interesting to step back and realise how singularly influenced I was by Ryan Holiday. I still treasure his writing, for sure, but now I’ve a wider base of influences with which to assure myself in times of doubt.

And these times occur, much as it pains me to admit it, both to myself and my audience. I wonder when the seed of that desire to hide perceived weakness was planted.

Sometimes I feel the weight of so many people - and, as a writer, words - that’ve come before me, and I wonder what I’m doing. I’m occasionally struck by the arrogance attached to the desire to tell stories. And I wonder if that desire is artificial within me, since it tends to come and go.

What’s changed since ‘Know‘? A new home, many new friends, a mentor, and several interrelated opportunities upon which to build a platform for myself, as a writer. This time last year, I wrote for Rave Magazine and FasterLouder.com.au. Now, scratch FL, and add Mess+Noise, FourThousand, and The Music Network.

Add to that ongoing work for Nick’s Native Digital, and attempting to manage the affairs of one of my favourite musical artists. And last week I met and interviewed one of my favourite writers. Yes, the interview will appear on here eventually.

See, listing my current interests - which largely, happily combine the dual-cliché of business and pleasure - it’s a wonder that I’m ever at a loose end. And in reality, I’m not. So why aren’t I researching the next great Mess+Noise feature? Why aren’t I further forging Native’s name as a media innovation partner? Why aren’t I putting into practice the modern marketing and promotion tactics that I read about every day?

I wish I had some pithy, smart-ass sentence here to answer my own questions. But the reality is that I’m crippled by inertia far too often for my own good, and it sucks. It sucks the most when I’m feel like I’m letting myself down due to my inactivity.

This would be the part where I’d publicly state my goals, but right now, I’m struggling to figure out where to begin.

Thanks for reading. I’m out-of-sorts with this entry, I know. I might owe that to recent dental surgery, but maybe I was just looking for a way to tell you what I’ve been up to since my last entry.

Hold me accountable, won’t you?

Filed under Life | Tags: accountability, inertia, know, Knowledge, Life, personal, Writing | Comments (2)

On Productivity And Procrastination

If you spend a lot of time on Twitter each day, you start to feel a sense of vicarious productivity.

Discussing links, chatting with several people at once, managing followers: none of it really matters, and yet it’s easy to lose sight of this when you’re immersed in it. 

You think you’re achieving things by commenting on and distributing content produced by others. But unless you’re being paid to manage your Twitter account, you’re really just engaged in a highly interactive distraction.

We’re only going to become more familiar with the presence of constant distractions. I have not a goddamn shred of research to back up this suggestion, so bear with me.

Regular internet users readily switch between dozens of social applications, interfaces and conversations every hour: email, instant messaging, Twitter, Facebook, et al.

Compare this constant multi-tasking to what our parents were familiar with: that is, concentrating on the task at hand - using the skills that you’ve chosen to build your career upon - before dealing with what’s ahead.

I might suck at explaining it, but the skills that a savvy internet user possesses are radically different from the previous generation. And I’m not one to give much thought to generational difference, but unless I’m much mistaken, we’re learning to think in a totally different way.

I’m aware that I’m extrapolating my own experience onto a wider demographic.

But I’ve found that instead of regularly focussing on one single task, my attention is divided across several mediums. It’s rare that I can concentrate on one task from start to finish.

Logically, this means that the quality of my creative output - be it a university assignment, a paid article, or an email to my family - is reduced, as I’m thin-slicing my thought contributions across hours or days.

That’s the rational explanation: reduced concentration on a singular pursuit results in a diminished outcome.  But I’m not certain.

I’m still adjusting to this relatively new method of online productivity. But I’ve no doubt that individuals who can successfully navigate a web of procrastination pitfalls will end up miles ahead of their peers.

It’s like Tait Ischia said in my interview: “If all the kids these days spent the same amount of time writing blogs that they did on Facebook, then [the advertising] industry would be a hell of a lot more competitive.”

He’s talking specifically about writing, sure. Because he’s a writer. But apply his concept to your ideal pursuit: breakdancing, animation, video production; I don’t know, interior fucking design.

The reality is that if you don’t work at your passion, you don’t get any closer to realising it. It continues to sit out of reach. That passionate carrot that you just can’t be fucked working toward. It’s the difference between putting the majority of your energy into becoming a widely-read writer and just telling everyone you meet that you want to be a widely-read writer.

In this way, nothing about productivity has changed since humans started realising that they required more than just food, shelter and sex to live a satisfying life.

So I suppose that the internet,  in the hands of the unmotivated, might just be a platform that has the potential to be a dense distraction. It’s the marbles, the skateboard, the comic books, the pool halls of previous generations, condensed into a single interface.

Except it’s inside, and you’re probably going to learn fewer skills when traversing the internet for extended periods. But even that statement is wrong; you’ll learn skills, but they’ll be completely different to what you’d learn in a pool hall or a skate bowl.

Historically, the people who are motivated toward an end have achieved things. They’re remembered. They won. And those who stood in the shadow of their achievements weren’t remembered. They didn’t win.

Simpler: the people who get things done win.

This post is a departure from the norm, because I clearly haven’t thought this through. But I’m okay with that. Stepping outside my comfort zone of pretending that I have the answers.

How do you spend your time online, and how do you deal with distraction? Do you think we’re learning to interact smarter?

Filed under Life, Web | Tags: achievement, Career, conversation, interaction, Internet, Life, Motivation, Online, passion, procrastination, productivity, pursuits, skills, tait-ischia, talents, twitter, vicarious-productivity, Web, Writing | Comments (5)