12 things I learned from writing a book and growing a beard

Man, that was tough.?

Writing a book was harder than I ever imagined.?

I’ve estimated I spent about 630 hours on this as a project, which is indicative of effort, not talent. The equivalent of exactly 90 working days, and given any day rate I used to charge before being the founder of a new software start up and back to being poor again, I could have been rolling in it. Why did I choose this path??

After 18 months of toil, a shitload of chocolate, a few migraines, and an unacceptably unhygienic beard, it’s finally been sent to the publisher, and it looks like it will be available at the end of July.?

The reason I’ve not been on LinkedIn recently, publishing content updates, is because the last four months nearly ruined me. My anxiety heightened in the editing stage of the book, and you’ll soon realise why. I messed up. I’m back, though, much to the chagrin of most, now that it’s all handed in, and I wanted to share some learnings along the way.?

What’s the book about?

“Every year is the year of personalisation yet no year is" Personalisation is a paradox, riddled with conflict and contempt. It’s a crazy fairy tale without a happy ending in sight. Half of those in the story worship it, and the other half seek to destroy it. Why? Why has personalisation become the adventure that no one wants to tell??

The Personalisation Paradox is a semi-parody, semi-serious, semi-alliterative, semi-scary quest on why this beautiful communication principle has lost its way where I guide what brands need to do about it.?

Sign up to content and updates about the personalisation paradox here

Why not semi-celebrate with me by looking back at my quest for writing within the past 18 months, where I can try to impart some dismissive wisdom for similar aspiring authors. TLDR; take up golf instead.?

Research: the sponge stage

(February to May)

I read somewhere that when Johann Hari wrote Stolen Focus, he interviewed hundreds of experts from all around the world before putting pen to paper—logically, a more journalistic approach than a story-driven one.?

This inspired me, and so I reached out to those within my network, fluidly talking about the concepts of personalisation in one hour chats. At the end of each of the talks, I asked whether they could introduce me to or recommend anyone on this topic. And so, ten soon became twenty, which became fifty, which became one-hundred, which became one-hundred and fifty-three-ish. I was still having conversations well into 2023, at which point I had to stop. I reached a bell curve in response. I’ve often thought about creating a timelapse of my beard growth in these 18 months, but then again, I also don’t want to be reminded of that Cast Away monstrosity.

My note-taking method was simple; I wanted to be present in the conversation, so using Riverside, I recorded each interview instead of furiously - and rather rudely - typing notes as I talked. Double the effort? Perhaps. But I found it to be a more meaningful, authentic conversation—less of an interview, more of a chat amongst friends. I used Notion to write up each conversation, placing them into themes and putting them into a linked database of learnings. Any research I did thereafter on the world wide of the web would also be put into those themes.?

What did I learn?

• I thought I would hit a bell-curve sooner than what I did. It took until about ~120 interviews for the information and conversations to flatline, showcasing the breadth of the topic. I’m glad I spoke to as many people as I did.?
• I got better at interviewing; learning that the interviewee should do all the talking and the interviewer should talk infinitely less. I ended up just mirroring my guests towards the end. Mirroring? Yes, mirroring.?
• I should have invested in a structure of conversation sooner than what I did. I ended up asking just two questions - “what is your relationship like with personalisation?” and “what do you think the future holds for personalisation?” which wasn’t enough of a structure.?
• I’m glad I recorded all the interviews. I went back through all of them at least once and noted down nuggets of wisdom, mapping themes together. Being more present in the conversation was indicative of the nebulous nature of the topic; being personal.

Process: the anxiety stage.

(June)

I spoke to others who had written books where the same advice kept coming back. Writing a book is like having a baby; it's bloody hard work, but it’s worth it. The writing stage is like conception (fun and short), the research stage is like each trimester (long, repetitive, and drawn out), and the editing stage is like labour - painful.?

On the whole, I felt the advice I received seemed more overwhelming than constructive. Stories of writers' block and the self-serving nature of publishers prevailed. Much more so than those advising to invest in a structure or methods of how to research. This is where my anxiety peaked in the twenty or so conversations I had, gleaning wisdom from other authors.

Amidst the pregnancy metaphors, I was told two things over and over: identify your audience and match your tone of voice to them. Who I was writing for changed about fifty times over the course of this book. I used “you” and “they” pronouns, because I was scared of using “I” and “me”. Ridiculous, really, when this is a book about personalisation. I knew I wanted to write a book that wasn’t an ode to Marketing; an overly dry, overwhelmingly practical prose that achieves little in practice nor theory. But who that person was… I was unsure.?

What did I learn?

• Speaking to others is a necessary evil. I should have been more objective about what I wanted as advice rather than an “accept all” because it just became overwhelming.
• I actually found it more helpful to look at Dickie Bush's LinkedIn articles, courses like Ship 30 for 30 , getting feedback from Foster or blog articles of Reedsy .??
• Publishers slow your process down and there is an art to submitting your application. I felt as though it sounded more about the fame of the author and the de-risk of the topic, than it did about the writing and value add of the book itself.?
• Invest in a tone of voice. I tend to be more conversational and took inspiration from the likes of Scott Galloway (I religiously read No Mercy, No Malice) and watched comedians like Bo Burnham on repeat - introspective, satirical, and pithy. Here’s what my editor said on the first read, which is where I was heading.?

For the most part, you write entertaining and informative sentences, and your tone of voice is never less than engaging and witty. Where the subject does get heavy, or bogged down in lingo, or jargon, or industry terminology and statistics, the reader never feels it’s too much of a drag as it isn’t long before the levity is broken with brevity.

Writing: the getting fat stage.

(August to January)

The Author Stage. I always thought being an aspiring author was about getting fat in the corner of a coffee shop, listening to classical music, and drinking an overpriced coconut latte every day. Lonesome creatures that spend far too much money in Starbucks while looking as though they still live with their mum and lost in sci-fi bingeing TV series like Dr Who. I tried to emulate that (without moving back in with my mum) but I don’t feel as though it helped me. Regardless, I loved this stage of my journey. Writing is cathartic. Whether I’m any good at it remains to be seen, although there’s a large part of me that doesn’t care.

There’s no question that I knew my subject. A mix between spending years practising it, spending 8 months consuming everything on it, and a new found heightened awareness of being a victim* of it in a real world environment created this beautiful Deathly Hallows triangular sign of potential.?

I felt like I had a structure, using Dickie Bush’s Atomic Essay technique . Essentially, a bunch of mini atomic essays strung together to form a chapter which build together to eventually create a book. I also definitely had a narrative at play centered around the lack of the person in personalisation; what could go wrong??

(*I chose the word victim intentionally to foreshadow the cynicism of my book.)

What did I learn?

• I enjoyed writing so much that I had the tendency to jump in headfirst. That was a mistake. Without a proper structure to the book (which I considered the boring part), I ended up writing 10,000 words on recommendations I never ended up using. Or planning to write about the maturity of personalisation which I never ended up doing.?
• Dickie’s method was great in theory, but in practice, it didn’t work for me. I missed one core element. Without underpinning the objectives of each mini-essay, I created conclusions that were muddled together within the story instead of being nicely wrapped up in a bow. Without investing enough time into the structure, it created a beautiful mess…?

Editing: the “beautiful mess” stage.

(February - April)

A lot could go wrong.?

The smelly, unwashed beard comes off. The book is handed to the editor. Feeling proud and complacent, I felt that there wasn’t much more that needed to be done apart from perhaps a sentence or two here or a word change there.?

I couldn’t be more wrong.?

The lack of investment in structure was evident. Dickie Bush’s method was useful but myopic. My rush to write and “be an author” was admirable but giddy. It was this lack of structure that let the book down more than anything, and going back to the drawing board with a wealth of content, retrospectively threading pieces together, felt like pulling teeth. Or as my editor put it:?

Currently, the book’s structure betrays its potential brilliance. You’re a good writer – sharp and witty – and you clearly know the subject. But it's the structure that lets the book down. The book just goes on and on and on in the same way over and over: it’s relentless. It’s not bad in what it details, and the premise could be HUGELY commercial for a general pop cult reader – it’s just that it never takes a break or a breather.?

A few* (*a shitload) re-edits later, a bit** (** a lot) of structural change here and there, and I felt infinitely more positive. What’s that Dolly Parton quote about reaching a rainbow or something???

What did I learn?

• It wasn’t this stage that was the problem, but the thing two stages ago that caused the problem. The lack of objective setting pre-writing came back to haunt me.
• Learning to take constructive criticism on something you’ve worked so hard on was a tough but necessary blow. Thanks to all those bastards in high school that gave me thick skin twenty years ago, I know that it’s not personal, but that doesn’t mean it’s not hard to take.

The wash my hands stage.?

Now.

I'm super proud and happy. It's going to add a lot of value I can feel it.

Yet equally terrified and anxious—more so than I was before starting this process, actually. The realisation of all this hard work isn’t what scares me. It’s the fact that this book is an extension of myself—that’s where the anxiety comes from. I don’t mind putting myself out there, but for this to be a book about personalisation it had to be personal. I had to practice what I preached.?

So go easy on me (he says in a self-deprecating yet equally lovable way)?

I have a newfound admiration for anyone who wants to write a book or has written one. I hope some of these lessons about investing in structure, accepting constructive feedback, identifying audiences, and drinking overpriced coconut lattes help in some way.?

The Personalisation Paradox will be available in late July. There will be no sequel.?

Please sign up to The Personalisation Paradox newsletter on LinkedIn here to receive updates when it becomes available. https://www.dhirubhai.net/newsletters/the-person-in-personalisation-7001830547442262016/