Fear, Exposed – Featuring Sean Platt

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Another Tuesday, another kick ass Fear, Exposed post.

And when I say kick ass, I mean kick ass, because from where I sit, it’s always MY pleasure to be able to connect with so many talented individuals who are out there, making it all work, despite having moments (months? years?) in which they’re scared right out of their minds. But somehow, some way, they make it work.

Sean Platt is one of those people. Is he ever one of those people. Can’t you just tell from his photo? To put it simply, Sean is a maven. I hope he likes being called that, because I’m totally not taking it back. He’s a straight-up maven, who has made it all work since, like, the age of 12 when he first discovered the beauty of entrepreneurship, selling candy bars & comic books at school. Weasel.

A few years later, he launched some other cool entrepreneurial ventures, such as a flower shop & later a preschool. And NOW he does none of that–Sean now runs a very sexy copywriting business with some other hip folks, regularly contributes to Copyblogger (jerk), recently launched a new venture designed to help other aspiring writers become authors (love it), and even has his hand in another project that promotes the value of writing at an early age, because as he puts it, children write the future. (And they do, don’t they?)

This is his story. You should absolutely harass him in the comments section–this is a guy you should know.

*****

I lost my house last year.

I also gathered enough debt to make most men cry, and search for a short rope and a strong beam.

Forcing your dreams into reality is hard.

But I did it, and so can you.

The key is to look fear in the eye, and slap that bitch silly.

Losing my house was a crushing miscarriage, among the most difficult challenges I’ve ever faced. The good news is, the grass is definitely greener on the other side, and the sweeping lawns are easier to find than you may believe in your darkest moments; when hope is at a whisper and terror at a bellow.

Six years ago, before I decided to trade a steady paycheck for the limitless promise of a money-while-I-slept living online, my wife Cindy and I bought our ghetto mansion with the best of intentions, trading two overvalued condos for an old Victorian in the historic district of our city.

I started writing articles for pennies a word, but my family needed dollars to survive. After writing for a year and a half, I hadn’t progressed enough to pull us from the fire. Despite my wife’s unflinching faith in me, I hadn’t delivered on my promise.

Sure, I had plenty of attention. My blogs were doing well, racking up comments and retweets, but doing little for my bank account. Some months I made a little and some months I made nearly nothing, yet I was never late on our mortgage. Not once. This meant many of those months my mortgage hit the credit card.

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Yes, sometimes I am a BIG, GIANT dumbass.

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I’ve since learned the ridiculousness of this strategy. My long-time realtor and good friend shook his head when I told him what I’d been doing. “You should’ve walked months ago,” he said.

Of course he was right; it was my eternal optimism keeping me blind. Until the day when I surrendered, I truly believed I would make it all work, convinced that unparalleled success was waiting just beyond the bend.

But you can’t be bobbing in the middle of the sea and believe you won’t drown.

I doubled my efforts, put myself out there like never before, and at last found the client base I’d been seeking. By the end of summer 2009, I was booking more work than I could handle and the wolves at the door were now going hungry.

But I mistook a spark for a flame and threatened my family’s future with ash.

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2009 was a rough year for most of the country, but the last six weeks of that year punched me in the teeth and left me in a puddle as it stood above my broken body laughing.

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Summer’s steady stream of work turned to full drought, yet the mortgage monster was as hungry as ever.

With every credit card either at its max or knocking on the limit’s door, I had no ability to pay. Worse, I had gone from no debt and a deep distrust of credit cards, to a comedy of errors where I was the punch-line.

In 18 months I went from owing nothing besides the debt on my house to being three months behind on my mortgage and suffocating in credit card debt. Walking away from the house was the right thing to do, but my pride and ego were beaten, battered and bruised beyond reasoning.

I went to a quiet room, closed the door, and arrived at one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever faced. The humiliation devastating; I felt like a man who promised his family a cruise, but left them drifting at sea.

It was time to shake the Etch-a-Sketch and start over.

I drew my breath, gathered my advisors, and designed a plan to pull my family from the mess. Life’s not always fair, but light is always at the end of the tunnel. Whether through my own arrogance, poor planning, or eternal optimism, I had wandered down a dark alley with a decisive dead end.

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But it is always better to swallow your pride than choke on it.

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I didn’t have to say goodbye to the house, but I’m glad I did. Had I listened to the fear, and gone back to a sure paycheck to save my house, I wouldn’t be where I am today.

When the world demands you give up, hope whispers, Come on, try it. Just one more time. So I did. I started the foreclosure process and continued my efforts to realize my dream of an online living.

I ditched the cheap keyword copy forever, vowing to take no clients rather than the cheap clients that were keeping me running in circles. I returned to my first info product, a potty training solution for frustrated parents, and hooked up with Lori Taylor, one of the world’s greatest copywriters.

The chaos of work continued, but the danger started to fade. I made a promise to my family which I’ve kept every day.

That was a year ago.

I now live in a lovely house with my lovely family. We have a large backyard that spills into a gorgeous forest. a movie theater in my basement and happiness in every room.

My $150,000 worth of debt has dwindled to toward nothing.

I’m not saying this to brag; I’m saying it to let you know your dreams are worth holding, and you might be a lot closer to seeing the sunrise than you’ve allowed yourself to think.

Hope whispers, it’s your job to listen.

*****

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Sean Platt is a ghostwriter and online entrepreneur who helps good writers make a great living. Follow him on Twitter.

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Tags: copyblogger, fear exposed, ghostwriter dad, lifestyle design, online copywriter, sean platt, work online