Seth Godin

Critics Criticise. Writer’s right?


Vanity got the better of me this weekend. To help promote this humble little blog I sent a tweet to Jay Rayner in the hope of tapping into his Seventy Six Thousand followers with this:
Hi @jayrayner1, any chance of a cheeky RT? The Art of Menu Engineering: Winning Words Your Menu Needs Today: t.co/Eh0imo2Mwh (Thanks)

I didn’t give it another thought as I was sure it would be ignored. Which is why I was pleasantly surprised to get a reply from Jay a few minutes later. Well pleasant may not be the word. If you’re not on Twitter, here it is:


@mykitchensync I'd like to think you're taking the piss because 95% of that is the worst advice I have ever read. Sadly, I fear you mean it.

Mightier than the sword: master of the dark art of criticism.

OOF! What a kick in the ribs. I read the words again, but still couldn’t find a glimmer of positivity. (OK, so 5% of my piece was not the worst advise he ever read. That’s good, right?

As I processed it, I kept thinking: How belligerent is that? Why doesn’t he agree with my viewpoint? Now what am I going to do? It would have been easy to rattle off some stupid tweet, but who needs to start a flame war (that's a pissing contest, Chef) which Mr. Rayner would win hands down. So I just tapped out a rather meek;
@jayrayner1 Fair point Jay. Thanks for taking the time to read it.

My earlier link to a piece by Seth Godin sums up the fact that you can’t please everyone. Jay Rayner’s job is to sell newspapers, his new book and an inordinate love for beards. A nice incendiary comment will do that. Or even a harmless tweet if you have the platform. 


To the Specialist in Soft Facilities Management, the Section Manager at John Lewis Partnership and the Catering Consultant in America who valued my article enought to ‘like’ or comment positively on LinkedIn, I thank you.

To Jay Rayner, thank you also. I’ll still vote for you again should you enter the Beard of the Year contest this year. Even if your point of view, just like your prominent goatee, really bristles.

Typing is Talking, So Talk

I have a lot to say. In fact, most people think I have too much to say and just won't shut up. My client Suzy calls it the 'talking stick'. It's a clever little trick she uses to to stop me waffling on in meetings... "I have the talking stick right now, not you." Schtum! Point taken.

But over the last 18 months, I've lost my voice in a different kind of way. My blogging voice. There are a million things I want to talk about and yet as soon as flip open the laptop to start typing.... the well just dries up. Nada. Not a solitary thing. It's like this little voice inside my head saying What'll they think?; Isn't that too sensitive?; What if I offend someone?; What if my boss reads this? (he might); Who do you think you are? or even Nobody cares. So I close down the lid and leave it for another day. 

Seth Godin calls it the Lizard Brain or the resistance. My sous chef Chris calls it a 'limiting belief'. Either way, it's that thing that stops you from being you. Worrying about what other people think, holds you back. Worrying about not getting it absolutely perfect, holds you back. Heck, worrying about what holds you back, holds you back.

Which is why I am writing this. I just started typing the first thing that popped into my head so it's never going to be my best work. But it needs to be written if I am going to kick start this fundamental need. A need to be heard. To be part of the conversation.

I'm not even going to stick in a picture. "OMG," I hear the Social Mejia Peeps collectively groan, "he doesn't get it. Everyone knows great pictures drive traffic". Do they? Here's the thing; my all time favourite blog (the one I check in with every night when my head hits the pillow) is Daring Fireball by John Gruber. And guess what? He doesn't put a damn picture in from one end of the month to the next. He does something far more powerful: he PAINTS a picture. His words, bursts of opinion, quick links to random stuff or clever little riposte to that latest guesstimate written as *fact* (endearingly called 'claim chowder') really stirs up a very powerful resonance in my imagination and to that of his readers. That's a powerful space to occupy. I think I want to be in that place. But you gotta ship.

So here goes. It's just words. But they're my words. And I do think they're worth sharing. Hopefully you do too.