Layers

Surgery, scaffolding, and other ways to hedge your bets

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Taking a selfie before heading to the beach. (Beyzaa Yurtkuran, Pexels)

Hi, friends! I started this newsletter in March 2023, which makes this my first anniversary issue. I’m sending it out abysmally late, I know, but I’m cutting myself slack. I’ve been hustling to lock down projects and dealing with an unexpected medical interruption.

A few weeks ago, I asked my dermatologist to biopsy a teensy, invisible spot on the bridge of my nose that felt rough to the touch. He’d frozen that spot twice before, and told me the last time if it returns again we need to look at it.

It turned out to be a squamous cell carcinoma, in situ. In situ, meaning it was only in the top layer of skin and hadn’t spread. I scheduled a Mohs surgery for the following week. That’s where the surgeon numbs the area and removes a thin layer of skin, creates a slide from that sample, looks at it under a microscope while you wait, and repeats the process until they see clean margins.

It took two rounds and 10 stitches to complete the procedure, but the cancer is out and I’m healing. I’m sharing this as a PSA to ask about anything that feels different, looks different, or you’re simply unsure about. I lost my dad 13 years ago to melanoma, so I’m not shy about getting weird stuff checked out.

The moment I knew I was dealing with cancer, I booked the surgery, rearranged my schedule, and made that my priority. It reminded me that I’m capable of dealing with a setback, doing what needs to be done next, and moving on without a lot of indecision or regret.

It reminded me that I’m capable of dealing with a setback, doing what needs to be done next, and moving on without a lot of indecision or regret.

Come to think of it, this has also been my approach in 2024 to navigating the continued uncertainty of a slower-than-usual workflow. Instead of getting caught in a cycle of fear, I used the last few months to shake the trees, nurture new relationships, stretch myself creatively, and forge onward. I’ve met weekly with an accountability partner and tried not to dwell in disappointment if things didn't go the way I wanted.

It’s resulted in a mixed bag of hits, misses, and redirections both in my freelance business and with my personal writing. In other words, it’s going well and, mentally, I feel more in control.

With the arrival of spring, I've coincidentally noticed that the metaphorical seeds I began planting a year ago have finally taken root, and that’s given me a surge of energy and optimism. Freelance writing is not for the faint of heart, but I love it.

Building scaffolding

I love listening to podcasts by standup comics and other artists who must continually put out new material. I’m fascinated to learn people’s creative habits, especially those who aren’t doing the same kind of work as me. I wrote about this a few years ago for Brevity Blog. Here’s an excerpt:

“I believe writing is like working out—the more you do it, the stronger you get. Expanding that analogy, drawing inspiration from other art forms is akin to cross-training. You’ll challenge muscles that are used less often and avoid falling into a rut.”

Recently, I started listening to the podcast, What Now? with Trevor Noah. On his Jan. 25 episode, he spoke with his guest, Kevin Hart, about the global business empire Hart has amassed. Along with his comedy tours and specials, he has a film production company, a venture capital firm, a tequila brand, a protein drink and supplement company, a plant-based restaurant chain, countless brand partnerships, and so much more.

Hart spoke about growing up without financial security, raised by a single mom. Fun fact I just learned five minutes ago: Kevin Hart and I graduated from the same high school (though he’s younger and from a different section of Philly). As he started to make money and achieve some fame, he deliberately began investing in businesses and expanding his brand as protection against failure in any one area. He referred to it as “building scaffolding.” Hart realized his brand was not tied to one movie or comedy tour, but to his voice and what he stood for.

I could relate to his thinking as someone who’s survived the ups and downs of more than 20 years of self-employment. I’ve repeatedly expanded and redefined my business as I mastered new skills, gained experience, and responded to the twists and turns of the marketplace. I learned the hard way not to rely on one client for 90% of my income and to avoid becoming complacent. And from those lessons, I reinforced my own scaffolding.

But it was what Hart said about his brand being his voice that I needed to hear. Over the last four years, as I’ve branched out and explored new opportunities for personal and professional growth, I wondered how to maintain the integrity of the brand I’ve been building for decades. I realized it comes down to staying true to my voice and the principles that guide me.

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Three Things That Inspired, Entertained, or Intrigued Me

1. This TED talk by Stanford engineering school professor Tina Seelig is about three little risks we can take to improve our luck. She describes luck not as a lightning strike, but a wind blowing constantly. Her suggestions involve actions that may feel uncomfortable or vulnerable, but are effective at capturing the winds of luck.
   
   Stretch, she tells us. Take risks. Strike up a conversation with a stranger. Reach out to someone you want to connect with but don’t know. I realize I’ve done this several times over the last six months by getting in touch with people I’d like to write articles about. People who are doing interesting things that are helping others. I’ve spoken to them by phone and over Zoom. I pitched their stories to major publications and … nothing came of it.
   
   

   One story was scooped by World News Tonight before I heard back on the pitch, so it was dead in the water. The other just wasn’t a story the editors were looking for. But in retrospect, I see something did come from my efforts. I learned to move faster on a trendy idea. I also got over any hesitation I had about reaching out to a stranger.
   
   

2. On episode 124 of Mike Birbiglia’s Working it Out podcast, his guest, comedian Chris Distefano, shared a lesson that helped him take his standup career to the next level. I’m paraphrasing, but it came down to this: It’s all about the output, not the outcome. That’s what you control. Focus on your output.
   
   By now, you know I’m someone who is always relearning the same message: Control what you can and surrender the rest. It was good to hear this reinforced.
   
   

3. Since many of my subscribers are new to my writing, I want to share some of my favorite pieces you may have missed. Humor is hands-down the hardest genre to write (IMHO) but among the most gratifying. The first humor piece I ever got published was an ode to growing up in the 70s and 80s, when families had only one medical cabinet and everything in it burned.
   
   For your enjoyment, I’m proud to share Burn, Baby, Burn: 10 Things From Your Gen X Childhood That Prepared You for the Hellscape of Menopause.
   
   My Gen X sisters, let me know in the comments how many of these you remember and which ones I missed.