Wait, a director of what?

Today marks my first day in my dream job title here at SmartBear...Director of Storytelling.

If you've never heard of such a role, don't feel bad! There are very few of "us" out there. But, I think that will change, and my hope is that other storytellers who would kill to have such a title within their organizations will, instead, just work really, really hard at making it happen. If your employer doesn't already have this role, nor any existing plans to add one in the not too distant future, you're definitely going to have to work your tail off to convince them of its ROI and its benefits to your prospects and customers. However, so what? It's either worth that effort to you, or it's not.

Many years ago, I made what I hope will be the biggest professional mistake I will ever make. My boss at the time asked me, I can't recall the exact wording, but it was along the lines of the dreaded "Where do you see yourself in 5 years?" question. And, like Ralphie in A Christmas Story when he blurts out "I WANT AN OFFICIAL RED RYDER CARBINE ACTION 200-SHOT RANGE MODEL AIR RIFLE," to his disapproving mother, I, without hesitation said, "I just wanna write."

But, this wasn't the "biggest professional mistake" I alluded to earlier, it was the exact opposite of that. It was, at the time, the truth.

At that time, I was, by choice, writing every blog, press release, white paper, ebook, FAQ, email draft, speaking proposal, and award nomination form I could get my hands on, while also regularly hosting a podcast, panel discussions, and conducting customer testimonial interviews. It was a dream job at that time, and I was great at it and quite happy doing it.

What I was terrible at, was making sure everyone around me, especially my boss, understood the value and need for all that content. What it was returning to the business. The increased brand awareness. The new hires who first discovered our company through our blog. The conferences where we had 10x the presence at 1/10th the spend by live-tweeting major takeaways from influential speakers and then conducting live interviews with them after their sessions. After failing to see that it was also my job to capture and share all of those stories, too, I, over time, grew disillusioned with my role. I began to fret over a fear that, should there ever be any budget cuts, "that person who just...I don't know...tells stories?" would definitely be someone layoff-able.

A few months passed, a new role opened up on our team, a very senior role, one I...wasn't entirely qualified for, nor even that interested in, but it would definitely have a higher pay grade, and undoubtedly better job security. It did not, however, appear to offer much in the way of writing or storytelling, the two biggest passions I've ever had in my professional career. When I expressed interest in the role to my boss, that's when my biggest mistake to date took place.

"Really? Huh, I guess it didn't really sound to me like a role you'd be interested in."

"Oh, it definitely is. The added responsibilities, the team management, it sounds great."

"It's just that not too long ago, you said that all you wanted to do was write."

"Me? Nah, I mean, writing's great and all, but I'm really ready to take that next step and move into...(I honestly can't even stomach typing any more of this ridiculous conversation that took place)

My biggest professional mistake was telling a bald-faced lie in the form of a complete dismissal of my passion for writing and storytelling, purely because I was too scared that they weren't valued...and I hadn't even stood up for them or tried to explain their importance. Not only did I not even get a courtesy "You're definitely not getting this job, but you're an internal candidate, so we're required to interview you" consideration for this new role, I had completely sold out and cast doubt on my real interest in the job that I had. Even with the amazing person that they did hire for the job, and who became my new boss, my days there were numbered, and it wasn't long before I parted ways.

I would spend the next three years writing, recording, and hosting, just as many pieces of content as I ever had, but I started doing something else that's at the very least equally important, if not even more so. I started mentoring other storytellers. I started giving workshops and tutorials. I started speaking at marketing conferences to help others understand not just how to create content, but how to make it marketable. How to make themselves marketable, and how doing so makes their team more marketable, and ultimately how it makes their entire company more marketable—and to prospects, customers, employees, and investors alike.

I realized what might be the most important thing for storytellers to never lose sight of. We need more storytellers, and from every possible walk of life, experience, background, and diversity. Even as storytellers ourselves, we desperately need others' stories to inspire, challenge, and nurture our own, and to reach an infinitely larger audience in the process.

The only reason there are so few Directors of Storytelling in the world today is because we haven't done a great job of explaining the need for this role to the business. That's going to require a lot more than your great stories alone. Help those around you tell theirs.

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