As I finished my revised pitch, my heart suddenly dropped by an inch and a half. Earlier, the publisher had tasked me with investigating competing titles and articulating how my book stands apart from what’s already out there. You know, differentiation and all.
I already had quite an extensive list, but in the back of my mind, there was this one specific book that was still missing. I had read it years ago, but no idea where it went. It was an orange book, written by a short man wearing thick glasses — a creative director — who’d previously worked with Erik Spiekermann.
I fed this exact description into ChatGPT and without hesitation, they replied with a completely different book title. And that’s when my heart sank:
“Burn Your Portfolio: Stuff they don't teach you in design school, but should” by Michael Janda.
Ouch. Fuck. That sounds remarkably similar to my project.
As I’m writing this, the softcover edition is finding its way to my mailbox. In the meantime, I was able to preview a couple of chapters on Google Books (right here).
I wouldn’t consider myself a petty person, but deep down, I hoped the book was shit. I was a little disappointed when it turned out to be, honestly, really informative and well-written.
Briefly, I contemplated applying for a job as a clerk at McDonald’s and never looking back.
Light at the end of the tunnel?
Of course, it’s not all bad. There are two sparks of hope:
Burn Your Portfolio was published in 2013. If all goes to plan, my book will hit the shelves a whopping 11 years later. That’s a big leap, especially in a fast-moving space such as commercial creation.
The beginning of Burn Your Portfolio is really strong. I haven’t read the entire book yet, but using the Google Books preview, I was able to get to chapter 32. By then, the author has taken a left turn where I plan to take a right.
Let me explain.
A lot of books with advice for creatives suffer from this same phenomenon. They start out with a few chapters of fundamental insights, followed by heaps of practical and technical information very specific to, say, graphic design.
I expect that this is a manifestation of survivorship bias: many people with successful careers end up writing books to showcase their expertise. But when they begin dissecting what they do, it turns out they don’t really understand why they do it a certain way. All they know is that it works for them, and it has for decades, so it must be right.
And that’s where their books take a left turn, where I plan to take a right. After a few chapters on the inner workings of their craft (the why), they run out of juice — because they have no clue. Driven by the somewhat nonsensical idea that a book must have some heft to it, these authors turn to technical advice (the how).
For example, explaining how colour systems work and what kind of magnifying glass to buy (Drew de Soto in Know Your Onions) or whether to put one or two spaces after a period (Michael Janda in chapter 31 of the aforementioned Burn Your Portfolio).
We’re Not Artists contains zero technical tips. It doesn’t tell the reader what to do. The closest I get to giving advice, is in the closing paragraph of each chapter that reads “Great, now what?” of which I’ll share an example below.
Other than that, the book is about why things are the way they are; the inner workings. That’s where the value lies.
From Part I: Creation, Chapter “Talent”:
“Great, now what?”
1. Stop focusing on quick wins, hacks, or platonic growth. They’re distractions that will harm your self-image, and even slow your development.
2. What can you do in the coming 2-3 months that would aid you in becoming a better professional creative? Follow an online course? Attend a seminar? Meditate or otherwise unwind? Read books outside of your area of expertise? Take a step towards this goal today and commit to it.
3. Open up your archive and look at the work you were doing exactly one year ago. Now go two years back. And then three, four, all the way to your very first work. See that growth? The way forward is slow and jagged, but steady.
Hee Rein, ik heb nog niet gereageerd op een van je mails, maar ik lees ze elke keer met veel plezier. Ik vind het fascinerend hoe onderzoekend en gefocust je werkt naar het publiceren van je boek. Het maakt me nieuwsgierig en ik geniet ervan dat ik mee kan kijken in jouw werkproces. Het inspireert me ook en ik denk dat het super dapper is dat je ons mee durft te nemen in je werkproces. Het vergt een hoop discipline kan ik me voorstellen. Goed, ik kijk alweer uit naar je volgende mail! Groetjes van Evy