Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 7

A rose by any other name…

I’m in Victoria, Canada, at IP3, a conference hosted by Andrew Wilkinson, founder of Tiny and a friend.

I was lucky enough to fly first class on this trip. When the flight attendant approached me and my seatmate, he said:

“Mr. Pecker, would you like something to drink?”

Mr. Pecker ordered a mimosa. One of five that he would drink over the five-hour flight.

People drink a lot of alcohol.

Then the flight attendant looked at his clipboard, found my name, and said, “Mr. Dicks…” and paused for a fraction of a second, doing everything he could to hold back a smile.

Pecker and Dicks, sitting side by side.

I ordered an apple juice.

“Talkers are no good doers.”

“Talkers are no good doers.”

This line, from Shakespeare’s “Richard III,” is one everyone who seeks to make something should take to heart.

Years ago, I attended a writers’ group at a local library. I had just published my first novel and was excited to discover a group of local writers gathering monthly to discuss and share their work.

But as soon as the group members discovered I had published a book with Doubleday and had just sold another, they did not treat me well.

“Who bought the novel?”
“How much was the sale price?”
“Hardcover or paperback?”
“Is it a multi-book deal?”
“What was your advance?”
“How did you find a publisher?”
“Do you have a co-author?”
“How old are you?”

The questions weren’t asked in the spirit of curiosity. They were fired at me with skepticism and anger.

I answered as many questions as I could, declining to talk about finances but explaining the process by which I found an agent and eventually sold the book. As the group asked clarifying questions, two things became clear to me:

These people do not like me.These people like to talk about writing more than they like writing.

I explained that after finding an agent, things got a lot easier, as she was able to guide me through the revisions that the manuscript needed.

A woman fired back. “How the hell did you find an agent? Did you know somebody?”

“No,” I said. “I didn’t know anybody. I queried more than 100 agents, and I guess I got lucky.”

I began to wonder how I might leave early, as this meeting was scheduled to last three hours.

Amid my interrogation, a woman described her plan for a three-book project: two novels and a nonfiction compendium that would later delve into some of the nonfiction elements of her fiction. She asked me for the best way to proceed in finding an agent to represent and sell her ideas.

“How about writing the first book first?” I said.

It was as if I had shouted blasphemy from the rooftops of the world. She actually snorted a combination of disbelief and annoyance in my general direction.

This has happened to me more often than you might imagine.

Someone asks me how to find an agent or launch a publishing career, and my answer is always the same:

“Write a book!”

Oddly, they often don’t see this as the first step.

People ask me how to become a paid storyteller and keynote speaker, and my answer is always the same:

“Start telling stories! Find an open mic! Start your own open mic! Go to The Moth and begin performing!”

Again, oddly, people don’t want to take the stage unless a paycheck accompanies them, but I was telling stories on stages in New York City and Boston for years before I ever saw a dime.

Many people seem to enjoy discussing the things they want to do, but they spend decidedly less time doing the things they should be doing.

Shakespeare was right:

“Talkers are no good doers.”

Forward motion. Relentless progress. Never-ending effort.

Be a doer.

The little bit of good stuff about Star Trek

I am not a fan of Star Trek.

I’ve watched the original series and parts of the later series, as well as several of the movies, but it’s always seemed a little silly to me.

You have an entire universe to invent whatever you can imagine, but you choose to send Captain Kirk and Spock back to the Old West and Nazi Germany?

And with limitless planets for your characters to explore, you stick a holodeck on your spaceship so people can walk around ordinary locations?

How about just finding another alien civilization?

Then there’s the worst fight in the history of science fiction and possibly all of television.

It’s all too much for me. Or maybe not enough.

Either way, I’m not a fan of Star Trek.

But sometimes, Star Trek can really delight me.

For example:

“Star Trek: The Next Generation” contains evidence that the actor Patrick Stewart, who plays Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Enterprise, exists in the Star Trek universe.

Here’s how we know:

In almost every scene that takes place in Picard’s room, a book is displayed, open to a two-page spread.

The book?

“The Annotated Shakespeare Vol. 1.” It’s a real book that exists in our world today, available on Amazon for about $12.

In one episode, the book is opened to pages 354-355.

The left page of that two-page spread includes a photo from a 1968 production of “As You Like It” at the Royal Shakespeare Company in which the role of Touchstone is played by Patrick Stewart, who is pictured in the photo on the page:

Captain Jean-Luc Picard has a book on the Enterprise that contains a photo and a mention of the actor who portrays him.

Was this done on purpose?

It must’ve been. Right? Perhaps not by the writers or show runner, but by Stewart himself or some other clever cast or crew member?

I love Easter eggs like this. Moments like these, alongside episodes like “The Tribbles,” make the show occasionally brilliant, but it’s not enough to win me over to the Star Trek universe.

The show still fails to be inventive enough for me. Moments like Kirk inexplicably leaving his shields down in “The Wrath of Khan” (when it costs nothing to raise them in precaution), the ridiculous rebirth of Spock after a brilliant cinematic death, the episode in which an alien woman steals Spock’s brain to use as a computer, and the episode when a virus causes the crew of the Enterprise to “de-evolve” into animals causes me to see Star Trek as campy and silly and not worth my time.

But as a source for endless mocking and occasionally poking at rabid Star Trek fans?

Yes, that’s fun!

Angeli for the win!

I’ve had the pleasure of spending the last few months working with a lawyer and public speaker named Angeli. She’s been competing in Toastmasters events for some time, but recently, I cajoled her to take her talents to a Moth StorySLAM in San Francisco, where she lives.The next day, I found myself wondering:Did she put her name in the hat?
Did her name get chosen?
How did she do?
Did she enjoy it?Just a few minutes later, I received this message alongside some photos:“I got lucky….I WON! Also:  My secret weapon: Matthew Dicks”I don’t think Anglei got lucky. She had a great story to tell and had spent time crafting and preparing it.Also, I’m not much of a secret weapon.Honestly, I think my greatest value in this situation — and many situations — was encouraging her to take the stage and try something new.Strategy, structure, and technique are certainly helpful when it comes to performing well and winning storytelling competitions, but making that leap is often the most critical step. I know many people who dream of doing something difficult or scary, but sadly, most never make that leap, only to discover the pain of regret.As Woody Allen famously said, “80% of life is showing up.”A whole bunch of people never show up.Angeli did. She took the leap and won the day.She won the day by simply taking the stage. Her victory is thrilling and well-deserved, I’m sure, but it was her daring and desire that made her a winner.

Government is good, even though it’s sometimes stupid.

In 2016, the Metropolitan Transportation Authority planned to spend $250 million on a project that would turn several New York bridges into an intricate light show.

It sounds like a lovely but expensive idea.

Nine years later, the city has spent $108 million on the project, which ultimately failed to materialize.

They spent $300,000 annually over seven years to simply store the lights.

A whole bunch of money down the tubes.

This is the kind of thing that causes people to distrust and despise government, and rightfully so. Wasting enormous sums of money like this is atrocious, and simpleminded people will see this as yet another reason to take an indiscriminate hatchet to government agencies and services.

It’s not, of course. For every act of wasteful stupidity by the government, our world is relentlessly, continually, and indescribably better because of the work that elected officials and government employees do on our behalf.

It’s easy to forget this when you read stories like this. Then you look at the bridges that these lights were supposed to illuminate, and the roads leading to these bridges, and the police and firefighters who use those roads to keep us safe, and the hospitals and schools and military bases and airports and research facilities and libraries and food banks and playgrounds along those roads, and you quickly realize that flashes of wasteful inefficiency like this bridge lighting project pale in comparison to what government does for us on a daily, almost minute by minute basis.

Also, some good news:

The power authority is now selling the lights off, with a minimum bid of $25. So if you’re looking for some new Christmas lights, you might be able to get yourself a serious set of industrial-strength lights for a steal.

Weird Al’s journey is just as weird as Weird Al himself

Weird Al Yankovic is embarking on a major tour this summer:

The Bigger and Weirder Tour

He hasn’t released a significant amount of music in over a decade, yet this is his fastest-selling and biggest-grossing tour to date.

He’s playing venues like Madison Square Garden and the Kia Forum.

I saw his show in 2018. It was excellent. Though I don’t think I’ll see him this time, I’m thrilled that people are buying tickets to his concerts in record numbers and still loving his music.

Weird Al is an example of someone who chose to do something different and found success.

 At 16, Yankovic sent a homemade cassette of his accordion-powered parodies and originals to radio personality Dr. Demento, who played his song “Belvedere Cruisin'” on the air in 1976.

This initial airplay was the spark that ignited Yankovic’s career, giving him early exposure and a small following among the show’s listeners.

While studying architecture at California Polytechnic State University, Yankovic became a DJ at the campus radio station, KCPR, where he continued to create and play his parodies on-air for campus students. It was during this time that he began calling himself “Weird Al” — a nickname originally given to him by his dormmates that was meant as an insult. 

He transformed their cruelty into a stage name that he still uses 50 years later.

In 1979, inspired by the popularity of The Knack’s “My Sharona,” he recorded a parody, “My Bologna,” in a bathroom for the acoustics and sent it to Dr. Demento.

“My Bologna” became a hit on the show, catching the attention of The Knack’s lead singer, who encouraged Capitol Records to release it as a single. This led to Yankovic’s first recording contract and, within a few years, his debut album, “Weird Al” Yankovic. 

The rest is history.

Yankovic has gone on to sell more than 12 million albums, record over 150 parodies and original songs, and perform over 1,000 live shows. His work has earned him five Grammy Awards, four gold records, and six platinum records.

As I’ve pointed out before, the path of success is rarely repeatable, predictable, or expected.

A teenage boy with a fascination for parody songs — a musical genre that has never received much attention — sends homemade tapes to a national radio show and gains some attention. He heads off to college and continues to ply his craft, landing a job on the college radio station, recording more songs, and sending more of them into “The Dr. Demento Show.”

One of those songs catches the attention of a rock star, who opens the door to his first recording contract.

As I’m fond of saying, there are no magic pills. No secret formulas.

Just relentless pursuit of your passion and hope that somehow, someday, someone will take notice.

I’ve hung up my revenge shingle for anyone in need

Slate magazine is engaged in Revenge Week.

Sort of like Shark Week except the focus is on revenge.

And somehow, a Slate editor identified me as being someone especially focused and adept at getting revenge, so they asked me to write a piece for their magazine and appear on one of their podcasts, where I discussed revenge and then helped a person plot revenge on a group of rotten little monsters who were ruining her day.

It was enormous fun.

In addition to discussing the means by which revenge is best exacted, I also discuss my Enemies List, my “I Told You So” calendar, and my history with revenge.

If you’d like to read the article I wrote, you can click here.

To listen to the podcast, you can click here.

Here is the craziest part of the story:

Since writing the article and recording the podcast, I have been approached by someone who would like to hire me as a revenge consultant. She has a person who has wronged her egregiously and needs retribution. Lacking the skills, experience, and necessary mindset, she is going to pay me to help her plan and enact her revenge on this monster.

I wear many hats. I have many titles. I do many things.

We can now add “revenge consultant” to the list, although I’d like to find a more suitable title.

The words “revenge” and “consultant” don’t go together well.

Suggestions?

Also, in need of some revenge?

Guys love Charlie’s love of music

On Saturday night, Charlie and I attended the Styx concert in Mansfield, Massachusetts.

REO Speedwagon and Don Felder of The Eagles opened the show.

It was the third Styx show that Charlie and I have attended, and like the previous two, it was excellent.

But just as good as the concert itself was the two hours Charlie and I spent driving to and from the show, as well as the time we spent wandering the concert grounds and waiting between bands. We discussed music, friendship, my time spent growing up in Massachusetts, my pet raccoon, politics, the future of AI, and many other topics.

Music is wonderful.
Rock ‘n roll is transformational.
Hours of meaningful conversation with your son are priceless.

But my favorite part of the entire day came as Styx returned to the stage for their encore. As the band played “Mr. Roboto” and “Renegade,” four different men around us tapped me on the shoulder — almost one after the other — to speak to me.

Actually, shout at me. We were eight rows from the stage. The music was loud.

One said, “How did you do it? How did you get your boy to fall in love with our music?”

Another said, “He knows the lyrics to these songs better than I do! You’re doing something right, man!”

A third said, “You’re a lucky man. My kids never came to concerts like this with me.”

The last one grabbed my shoulders, pulled me close, and said, “I’ve been to about a dozen Styx concerts in my life. I love these guys. But I’ve spent most of the night watching your son sing the words to every song. It was the best part of the show. It was a joy to watch the two of you.”

It was a little strange to have all four men reach out within the span of two songs, but maybe they knew the show was coming to an end and wanted to make sure they spoke to me before Charlie and I bolted to the parking lot.

Or maybe the first man’s kind words triggered the others to express a similar sentiment.

Either way, their kindness meant a lot.

I’m not sure how much of my good fortune was due to me. Elysha and I have been playing music for the kids ever since they were born, and our long drives have always featured playlists of music from every time and genre.

I’ve always loved a wide range of different kinds of music, and Elysha is a near savant when it comes to her understanding and appreciation of music. She’s just as happy listening to a Lizzo song as she is listening to a The Ink Spots song from the 1940s.

She’s expanded my own understanding and appreciation considerably.

As a result, Clara and Charlie’s knowledge and appreciation are also wide and varied. They are fans of The Beatles, Queen, Lyle Lovett, Dolly Parton, Sam Cooke, Van Morrison, Stevie Wonder, Springsteen, Prince, Guns N’ Roses, Joe Strummer, Amos Lee, The Rolling Stones, Taylor Swift, Elvis, The Go-Go’s, and everything in between.

But what was the alternative?

Let them choose the music?

Just play the hits on the radio today?

But I think the real credit probably goes to the kids, who have always had such open minds and curious dispositions. I suspect that many parents play a wide variety of music for their kids, only to have them reject that music in favor of the most popular songs of today.

Somehow, Clara and Charlie have always been willing to try new things, keep an open mind, and assume they will love whatever we have to offer.

Except for food. They both suck when it comes to food.

But in most other things, they have always been free of judgment and assumption, looking to take in the world with fresh eyes and positive spirits.

Charlie fell in love with Styx on Route 4 in Farmington, CT, when “Come Sail Away” started playing on my Spotify playlist.

“What is this?” he asked.

“Styx,” I said. “Prog rock. Good stuff.”

That was it. He was hooked.

Five years and three concerts later, Styx remains Charlie’s favorite band.

Truthfully, I don’t think I had much to do with it. I think he’s just a cool kid who wants more out of life, not less.

Lucky me.

How to replicate my career

I received an email last week from a person who essentially asked, “I’d love to have your career as a storyteller and consultant. Can you tell me how?”

I receive questions like this quite a bit. Maybe one per week. More than you might expect. More than I ever expected.

Essentially, people want to know how to become an author, a storyteller, a keynote speaker, or a consultant.

Or all three.

They primarily want to know how they can make money doing what I do.

The answer is a simple one:

Work like hell.
Make things.
Then keep making more things.
Maybe find some like-minded people to help.
Never stop.
Be patient.
Be relentless.
Hope to get noticed.

They never like this answer. I suspect it’s not the magic pill or secret door that many are hoping to find.

But I always find requests like this a little silly and slightly annoying because there is no secret formula.
No secret door.
No hidden recipe.
No predetermined route to success.

There never has been, and there never will be.

Nothing I did was planned. I never possessed any grand vision for the future. I just kept moving forward, making things, trying new things, seeking out the support of like-minded people, and working like hell.

It’s what I continue to do today. I hardly think I’m a finished product. I hope that I’m continually evolving, and something new and amazing is waiting for me around the next corner if I keep making, moving, and evolving.

Elysha just planned our summer vacation. While showing me the Airbnb, she said, “And look. You can work here,” pointing at a table in a nook off the kitchen.

“Work?” I said. “I’ll be on vacation!”

“Yes,” she said. “But you’ll still be you.”

And she’s right. I won’t schedule any meetings. I won’t film any videos. I won’t sign any contracts. But I will still climb out of bed at the crack of dawn and write. Maybe answer some email so I don’t fall behind. Design some stickers I’ve been wanting to own. Probably revise the manuscript of my next novel.

I’ll still be me.

However, since I frequently receive requests for advice on how to replicate my career, I’ve compiled a step-by-step guide to help them along the way.

The next time I’m asked for my secret formula, I’ll send this list:

Write every single day of your life without ever missing a day for 17 years before finally publishing your first novel.Keep writing every day. Write more than 2.5 million words, spread across six published novels, three published books of nonfiction, five unpublished manuscripts, and at least half a dozen partially written manuscripts.Write a blog post every day for nearly two decades without ever missing a day, including your wedding day, every day of your honeymoon, the days your children were born, the day of your hernia surgery, and during three bouts of pneumonia.Launch a wedding DJ business even though you knew nothing about weddings or being a DJ. Entertain at more than 500 weddings over 25 years, allowing you to become adept at speaking to audiences extemporaneously and use microphones and other sound equipment expertly.Finish your workday, then drive to New York City and Boston — two to three hours each way — to maybe tell a five-minute story on a stage (for free) before turning around and driving back home so you can go back to work the next morning. Do this more than 300 times over the course of 14 years.Launch your own storytelling organization (Speak Up) by partnering with venues throughout the region, recruiting storytellers to train and perform on stage, and working with organizations that want to use storytelling to promote their work and build their brand. Produce more than 125 shows over a dozen years. Launch a podcast that features the stories told on Speak Up stages.Begin performing five-minute stand-up sets at open mics in Connecticut, New York, Boston, and beyond, even though the idea of stand-up comedy initially sounds terrible and frightens you.Write a rock opera and three musicals with a friend. Produce that rock opera at a local theater, partially funding it through a GoFundMe campaign. Parley the relationship you establish with that theater into a series of storytelling improv shows with one of those like-minded people, then find additional homes for that show based upon the success of the first show.Write a solo show and pitch it to theaters in Connecticut. Find one that agrees to squeeze you in between shows for three nights. Work like hell to sell out all three nights. Repeat this process two years later. Then start writing your third show.Launch a company that sells storytelling courses online. Find a like-minded partner and hire an exceptional colleague to work alongside you. Invest money in building a studio in your home and purchasing equipment, hoping that your initial investment pays off and you can eventually turn a profit.Get noticed by a local businessperson while performing at a benefit show who believes you can help him with his company. Get referred to other local businesses, and gradually grow your coaching and consulting business until you are consulting with prominent companies like Amazon, Microsoft, Johnson & Johnson, and Salesforce, as well as clergy members, keynote speakers, politicians, and the FBI.Continue doing all of this while relentlessly looking for the next big thing. For me, in 2025, it’s a Storyworthy rebrand, the launch of a Substack, partnering with a speaking agent and management company, and trying to write three books.Oh, and do all this while being a husband and father and elementary school teacher. Also an obsessive reader and golfer and cyclist and friend to many.

It’s admittedly a snarky, sarcastic, almost certainly unhelpful list. Not exactly a realistic path for anyone to take.

But it wasn’t realistic for me, either. Had I been shown that list when I was 17 and just beginning the process of writing every day of my life. I would’ve thought it a ridiculous and impossible list.

But entirely accurate, too.

And through it, I’m trying to make a point.

There is no magic pill.
No secret recipe.
No shortcuts.
It’s not easy.

Just relentless movement forward. The constant making of things. The never-ending search for the next thing. Leaping into uncertainty with hard work and the belief in possibility.

It’s the formula most people who have achieved success in life have followed.

I wish I could offer a magic pill. Instead, I offer simplicity, uncertainty, and hope.

ChatGPT is changing the world. Literally.

Soundslice is a company that digitizes music from photographs.

A few months ago, they started noticing that users were uploading screenshots of ASCII tablature — a bare-bones way of notating music for guitar. These screenshots were being taken from ChatGPT.

Why?

After some investigating, the Soundslice team discovered that ChatGPT instructs users to visit Soundslice, create an account, and import an ASCII tab to access audio playback.

The problem?

Soundslice doesn’t offer that feature. The company doesn’t support ASCII tabs.

ChatGPT was misleading users by directing them to Soundslice for a service it does not offer, thereby creating false expectations about the company’s offerings and likely harming their reputation in the process.

Soundslice’s response?

They built the feature into their software, creating the very service that ChatGPT claimed existed, thus turning ChatGPT’s falsehood into a truth.

Two thoughts on this:

This might be the first example of AI manipulating a company to create a product that didn’t previously exist, thus altering the physical world in a very real way against the initial wishes of human beings.What a brilliant decision by Soundslice. Companies invest a substantial amount of money in surveys to determine which products or features customers want most. In this case, they accepted the free market research from ChatGPT and made something people clearly wanted and needed.

It’s a brave new world.