I couldn’t call in sick

While living in Vietnam years ago, I was invited to speak at a Behance event in Tokyo.

I’d been writing online for a few years, slowly building my online presence.

Standing in front of a crowd to share my thoughts with the pressure of needing to make it work made me very nervous.

The night before my talk, I ate some raw seafood with the hosts. Mistake.

By the next morning, I was battling one of the worst food poisonings I’d ever had.

The next day - the day of the talk - I was weak, nauseous, and wishing for nothing more than to stay in my bed igloo.

I seriously considered backing out. But how could I?

I’d flown all the way to Tokyo for this one moment.

So, I just went.

I walked all the way there in the cool December air to clear my head.

Light-headed and swaying slightly in front of about 50 people, I gave my talk.

I remember thinking things couldn’t get much worse, so I found myself relaxing.

Somehow, I got through it. It worked.

In fact, it turned out to be one of the better talks I’ve given.

Food poisoning aside, none of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t spent years writing online.

Writing gave me a voice. It allowed people to see what I was about long before they ever met me. It created trust and led to opportunities I couldn’t have planned for.

That’s the beauty of writing consistently online.

Done well, it doesn’t just put words out into the void. It builds relationships, clears the thoughts in your head, and gives you options.

If you’re looking to write in a way that stands out from the sea of mostly online crap, my course Online Writing Alchemy is designed to help transform your writing fast.

You can learn more about it here.

Alex