The "Giant Squid" Method of Finding Your Niche

Blame me for the gross imagery

Two things that royally suck:

• Peeling stuck-on pricing stickers off the front of literally anything (whyyyyyy)

• Being so paralyzed by the number of things you could do with your career (jewelry?! architecture?! design?! photography?!), you can’t commit to any of them

The only person who hasn’t had that last thing happen to them is your Great Uncle Roger, who decided he wanted to be a plumber in 1964 and stuck with it ever since.

For the rest of us non-plunger-wielding civilians—especially those of us who deeply want to feel fulfilled by our work—figuring out THE RIGHT PATH is so much cringey pressure. It’s like trying to pick the perfect shade of white paint, which we all know is fucking impossible.

But, I have a theory. 💡 👀

Obviously this theory is not grounded in any academic research whatsoever, but I can tell you from 15 years of being a happy & healthy writer & creator online, this has been one of the secrets to my longevity.

The secret is what I call “Chase Your Giant Squid.” 🦑

Yes, I’m really calling it that!

But first, let me back up. ⏮️

I’ve been thinking about THINGS lately: my intense dislike of butterscotch, whether or not it’d be feasible to wear a new pair of socks every single day, and some serious stuff too, like throat cancer (why am I still coughing????) and trademarks (wait until you see what’s coming September 2024), the cost of living crisis, and also whether or not I should travel up the New England coast this summer, filming a YouTube series where I review ALL the creepy seafood (as someone who hates seafood).

Which is what got me thinking.

One of the great pleasures of my work, over the years, has been the freedom to create whatever feels fun to create.

In other words: projects.

A YouTube series filming a seafood hater going around trying the nation’s most regaled seafood dishes & giving us a take through that perspective? That’s a really fun, original lens. Sure, you could send someone who loves seafood to do the job, but there’s no tension there: we already know what they’re going to say.

Now, what business do I have doing something like this? This project doesn’t make “sense” on paper for me to do. I’m not a food critic, nor am I a YouTube star.

But, what I am is enthusiastic about the idea.

And chasing your enthusiasm is the only way through.

***

HOLD UP THOUGH.

When we think of our “career,” there’s the pressure to find YOUR ONE TRUE PASSION, right? Anything less than that, and you’re broken. Flighty. Wish-washy. Uncommitted.

This has not been my experience.

Rather, I think of my work as a collection of passions. 🍇

Or, more helpfully: a collection of projects.

Each project I work on gives me an all-new high; the excitement and thrill of challenging myself to try something new.

And the reason why this reframe can be so helpful?

When you think of your work as a collection of projects, rather than one permanent, lifelong decision, it relieves alllllllll that pressure to choose the perfect one. Because, just like doing an art project, if you screw it up, it’s fine.

It’s just an art project, after all.

And maybe we should start thinking about our work this way. Imagine what you’d post on social if you thought of it as an art project, rather than a high-stakes performance?????

***

But, how do you build a brand, a reputation, a name for yourself if you’re doing different “projects?”

Or, the real question on the tip of every cliché business coaches tongue: HOW DO YOU FIND YOUR NICHE???

The answer for me has been simple:

My body of work is connected together by a unifying theme, not a unifying product.

That theme has always been finding original ways to live a fulfilling life.

For me, it has been more important to define how each project connects back to that theme, instead of trying to box myself into one. (A “niche,” if you will.)

In this way, message > niche.

You can restrict yourself to only painting seaside landscapes (niche!), but if those seaside landscapes do not tell a story, they’re just a seaside landscape. There’s no brand, no energy, no dynamism, no meaning.

Alternatively, you can start with a message—for example, GO OFFLINE, YOU SILLY TART—and you can make that message so potent, so thunderous, so magnetic, that it doesn’t matter which kinds of projects you create around it: they will be connected together by their common message, forming a cohesive brand.

In that way, it doesn’t matter if you’re painting landscapes or forging horseshoes or selling flowers or wielding swords.

(Wow I must be into iron products today?)

It’s your message that sells your work.

So every time you’re feeling small and confused and resigned to doing things that feel safe—

—I want you to think not about what work you should be doing, but what message you care about spreading.

Start with an idea that matters to you.

And then? Go chase your giant squid. 🦑 (I’ll see you in New England!)

Start that project.

Do something unexpected.

Be rash!

Be unreasonable.

Do it weird.

Make it matter.

Have fun with it.

Spread the kind of joy that’s infectious.

And remember that the best part of going off-script in your career?

Is that you get to write the new one however you want.

…Creepy seafood dishes and all.