In college, I turned in a paper on how music instilled the ideology behind our First Amendment. I was really into a diverse genre of music back then, which might have had something to do with a substance: "I don't know, I don't remember that time all too well," or should I say, "Too good?" That may give you an idea of what the substance was, and my grammar might also give you some insight into my final grade.
What I didn't realize at twenty-two years old, that I clearly understand now at forty-five, is that the power of a great story has nothing to do with how the world receives it but how the author interprets it.
I was given a conditional F on the term paper. The condition was that I rewrite the paper in less than twenty-four hours or fail. I laughed at the condition, considering I had spent the entire night in the computer lab writing the paper in the first place, but that didn't mean I was still pissed off about having to redo it.
My professor that semester was quickly past the age of retirement and without question, didn't know one damn lyric of the Eminem songs I was referencing, let alone who he was, but he did probably know who the Boss was.
That's Bruce Springsteen, guys. Come on!
The initial term paper looked like it had been vandalized by a red pen on the first few pages before they stopped, ultimately forcing my attention to the back page where the condition of my destiny read, "Please see me after class."
As my professor and I spoke, I don't remember everything he said to me verbatim, but I do remember it was something to the effect of, "Derek, you are better than this, and you need to start living up to your potential." He told me the paper was based on an A+ idea with an F- execution.
That stung.
I was 22 years old, done with my collegiate soccer career, and contemplating whether I even cared about graduating at that point. I didn't know what I wanted to do, but I knew I hated writing.
That was in the spring of 2002; I was young, dumb, and full of...sh** (Get your mind out of the gutter).
Well, it's 2025, and now I write nearly 50,000 words per week. Writing is and has been my pastime for the past 5+ years. I love writing because I love storytelling. I love it probably more than I love anything I put my mind to, and I'm not saying anything would have changed if that one professor never pointed out my potential with a conditional failing grade, but I can't say it wouldn't have. All I know is that none of us know how capable we are of sharing a compelling story until we're forced to, like I was that one day back in college. I just wish I didn't wait twenty years after a professor with a red pen told me it was time to start telling a story worth telling.
My clients often overthink their ideas, paralyzing themselves into a corner, only to never put anything out into the world—often because they're too busy considering what other people will think of it as their goal is to placate someone else's needs.
The best stories combine two completely different ideas when they have no business sharing the same room. This concept is called synchronicity, and it's the perfect recipe for a great story. You and I, and everyone on earth, are a glowing example of synchronicity. Shaped and inspired by our experiences, we can easily relate our careers, our relationships, our hobbies, even the "stuff we buy," and more to tell a compelling story because it's authentic. Therefore, it's likely going to be relatable to someone, but not everyone.
Today, I read an article about writing on social media and how the format is more important than the content itself, with the reason being how well an audience can consume it. Then, two minutes later, I saw content that contradicted that idea, telling the audience to write what they feel and share aimlessly. The first advice came from someone who is notoriously accused of using fake engagement tools to boost his content, while the other is widely known as the Godfather of personal branding. I guess you can decide who you want to listen to, but in the meantime, consider this advice, "don't create anything to please the masses; instead, create everything for an audience of one."
And by one, I mean you, your past self, your future self, and or "yes, someone who needs to hear exactly what you have to say."
Then, sit back and watch what happens. You might find yourself fulfilled with a purpose you never knew existed.
For the record, I got an A+ on the redo, but the grade wasn't a measurement of my success; it was a window with a view.
