In 2004 I was in Alaska.

In deep, deep Alaska.

The part of Alaska where the highway turns from asphalt to gravel to logging roads to helicopter rides.

I was 18 years old, and I was fighting fire in one of the worst wildfire seasons Alaska has ever had.

The physical challenge of fighting wildfire was nothing compared to the cultural shock I experienced being the only gringo on a 22 man crew of the hardest working, best group of guys I’ve ever met in my life.

They taught me a lot, both individually and collectively.

 

Lesson#1 – Slow is smooth. Smooth is fast.

We had these two guys, built like little brown tanks, who carried a 45 pound chainsaws at the front of the line. It was essentially up to them to set the pace for the rest of the crew who followed behind scraping away at the Alaskan tundra with Pulaskis, shovels etc.

In the case of our crew, these two chainsaw wielding bad asses were two of the most experienced in our crew.

And this was on purpose.

New guys feel pressure to go fast. They make sloppy cuts because they are rushing. They try to use the chainsaw beyond their ability to handle it, to impress the rest of the crew. This rush to bad assery causes problems.

We had a crew camped out next to us, a Forest Service crew, and their crew boss had put two young guys at the front of the line because all the older ones were complaining about humping the big chainsaw around the woods all the time.

Well, as you might expect one of these guys ended up cutting his leg real bad right through the bone trying to “build a faster line”.

And that is why my crew boss used to yell this in our faces when we screwed up:

“Slow is smooth. Smooth is fast.”

Often times, in business, or writing, or in relationships, we get so focused on speed.

“I want to be rich TODAY.”

“I want her to love me TODAY.”

“I want to be the next Stephen King TODAY.”

But it doesn’t work that way. It never has. It never will.

The harder you try to go fast, the harder you push, the sloppier you get.

And sloppiness never gets you what you think it will.

The key to success is the long game.

Develop skills slowly so that they stick with you.

Take time to plan you entrance into the market.

Take time to discover what genre you should be writing in.

Rushing in, guns a blazing gets you nothing.

Nothing my friends, but an inside look at the bone structure of your leg and a free helicopter ride to the nearest hospital (which is like 6 hours away by chopper).

 

Lesson #2. Keep Your Blades Sharp Even If You Are Tired

 

Sometimes we would work 24 hour plus shifts.

They sucked.

Typically, at the end of these types of shifts we would all hunker down in our campsite, rip open an extra helping of MRE’s, and generally just kick our feet up and enjoy the Alaskan wilderness.

Well, most of us anyways.

The guys who got stuck lugging the chainsaws around for that 24 hour shift were also responsible for sharpening the teeth back to a point.

Chainsaw maintenance couldn’t wait until the next day, because emergencies never happened at convenient times.

So, while everyone else was off relaxing and having a good time because they did ONE DAY of hard work, the chainsaw banditos were still busting their ass deep into the 30th hour.

That’s why they got paid more.

That’s why they were better firefighters.

That’s why they were bad ass.

Let me tell you something that you already know deep down inside:

The harder you work, the luckier you get.

Preparation, practice, diligent effort, whatever you want to call it, and however you want to approach it, it all comes down to putting time in the hot seat.

To getting your hands real dirty.

Everyday.

For weeks. Months. Years.

I am better than you at writing sales copy, not because I magic, but because I have spent more time sharpening my copywriting chainsaw then you have.

I read more books on copywriting each week than most entrepreneurs read in their entire lifetime.

I spend 30 to 35 hours per week WRITING (not thinking about writing, but ACTUALLY writing) sales copy for clients, for my own projects, and sometimes just to try out new tricks and moves.

The same goes for my fiction.

While my friends are watching movies, hanging out with girls, or doing whatever it is people do to waste time, I’m busy writing.

This isn’t to brag, not trying to say I’m BETTER than anyone else, but if you want to make a splash in your market, in your genre, in your life, in your relationships don’t think you can do it on two hours a week.

You can’t.

It’s impossible.

No matter what scam type sales page you’ve read in the past week, making any significant impact in your life or in the lives of others simply does not happen quickly, or easily.

It typically doesn’t even START to happen until the 30th hour.

 

 

Lesson #3. Treat Every Day Like It’s Friday

 

At this point, you probably think being the chainsaw guy in a wildland firefighting crew would be a pretty sucky job.

And I suppose there are personality types who would never enjoy it.

But my guys loved it.

They loved the sound of the saw teeth ripping through wood. They loved spending weeks in the wilderness cooking and eating by the fire. They loved fishing pink-red salmon out of the Yukon River.

They even loved the 24 hour shifts.

They loved what they did.

The bad and the good.

Now, if you’ve been reading my blog for any length of time, or if you know me personally you know that I’m not really into new age “feel good” “follow your passion” type philosophies. Not because I don’t think you shouldn’t be happy, but because I think trying to put your happiness into some external compartment is detrimental to your own success and true happiness.

And I learned that from the guys in my crew.

Did they love their job? Yes.

Would they have loved a different job? Yes.

These guys were just happy.

They were happy before they came to work, during work, and after it.

They treated every day like it was Friday.

They worked hard, and they played hard.

So many new writers and entrepreneurs put too much emotional pressure on the ACT of becoming successful that they completely ignore the things that ACTUALLY make them happy.

I work damn hard.

65 hours per week or more is typical for me.

Do I love what I do? Yes.

But my happiness doesn’t come from the ACT of doing that thing.

I love the copy that I write. I love my clients.

But sometimes I would rather stab myself in the eye with jalapeno laced sewing scissors then sit down and try to figure out what the client wants.

It’s a good thing I don’t rest my happiness on something that can be so frustrating. So fluid. So unpredictable.

Do I love writing speculative fiction? Yes.

But my happiness doesn’t come from the ACT of writing speculative fiction.

My happiness comes from the personal work I do on myself, meditation, personal enjoyment activities, personal relationships etc.

I treat every day like it’s Friday.

I take pride in my work, and then I put work aside when it’s done.

Assuming that starting a new business will all of a sudden inject your life will happiness is to set yourself up for a massive letdown.

Trying to figure out the “right” genre for you to write in as an act of self-fulfilling happiness is to set yourself up for a massive letdown.

If you’re searching for happiness, look for happiness.

If you searching for a business to start, search for a business to start.

If you’re searching for a genre to write in, search for genre to write in.

But if you’re looking for happiness, don’t try to find it in the genre you’re writing in. You won’t find it in starting a new business. You will only find it by doing the things that make you happy. Things like spending time with loved ones, exercising, meditating etc.

So guess what!

Today is Friday, enjoy it – no matter what you are doing.