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Halfway Through My 90-Day Video Challenge

I recently took on a video content challenge inspired by Steven Bartlett, where he encouraged people to create content for 90 days straight. I already create a lot of content, but I realised video was something I had grown uncomfortable with. I thought it would be good for me to get back into it, so I committed to making a video every single day. I am now almost halfway through the challenge, and I have a few insights to share.

I mostly create shorts and reels for YouTube and Instagram. I have shared a couple of those videos on LinkedIn, but not many. There are definitely days I do not want to make a video, but somehow I still manage to get them done. I have not batch produced them, as I find it difficult to make more than one in a day. Between coming up with the idea, writing a script, presenting it, editing, and posting, it is simply too much. Most of the time I think of something on the spot, sometimes out of desperation not to fail the challenge. I write down my thoughts, speak to the camera, edit, and post.

The quality has been a little more consistent over time, but not necessarily better. The format is still me talking to the camera, head and shoulders, in black and white with my branding and captions. On Instagram, views are relatively steady. On YouTube, results are more inconsistent. I do not have a consistent posting time, but I have managed to publish something almost every day. The content has not performed noticeably better on LinkedIn, and the topics are admittedly quite random, depending on what I think of that day.

I still create for LinkedIn in the form of articles and posts, and I try to comment on other people’s content regularly to keep showing up. But I have found it increasingly difficult to do both. I tend to work best when I am focused on one creative output at a time. Right now, that focus has shifted to video. Even though the videos are only a few seconds long, I still put thought into crafting the best narrative I can deliver, which makes it harder for me to write here in longer form. Writing posts has never felt very natural for me either, as I dislike having to force content into a specific format of short sentences and lists.

Looking ahead, I do want to continue writing on LinkedIn. That probably means moving away from daily videos and instead producing one longer video each week, supported by a few shorter cuts from the same material. The rest of the time, I want to use here for writing and sharing more considered thoughts. I am not sure how well long form video will perform on LinkedIn, so I will have to see whether it is worth the investment.

The one thing I can say with certainty is that this challenge has given me back the confidence to talk on video again. I am not great, just an ordinary person who is often awkward in front of the camera, but I am getting less tongue tied each day. That feels like a win on its own.

I will share a full update when I reach the end of the 90 days. For now, this is where I am with my video content journey.

The Writings on the Wall

Words have always mattered. But now, writing has become a superpower.

In a world where AI can produce passable paragraphs in seconds, it is no surprise that many writers feel threatened. I do not blame them. Every time a new design tool comes along claiming that anyone can now be a designer, a little part of me dies as well. But any experienced designer knows it takes far more than arranging elements on a screen to create something that works. There are users to consider, best practices to apply, styles to refine, and context to respect. An AI-generated design might look neat in isolation, but it rarely holds up in the real world.

The same truth applies to writing.

AI has opened up writing to everyone. Almost anyone can improve clarity, spelling, and tone with the right prompt. But keeping writing on brand and developing a distinctive, consistent voice still relies on the taste makers and the most cunning of linguists. This is where skill and experience make all the difference.

More than your website’s design, your content is the thing to focus on. Design and build are simply the structure. What you say and how you say it will shape how people experience your brand. It will also determine how your words are surfaced and used by new technologies. As AI-powered tools become the default way people search and interact, old content strategies will no longer be enough.

Some of the sharpest writers I know work in advertising, which has always felt like the Formula One of writing. They can craft that perfect combination of words to drive a message home, punchy and perfectly timed, often clever or funny. This kind of writing hits harder than anything else, but it is only one part of a brand’s voice.

There are many other opportunities emerging.

Content is no longer limited to campaigns, websites, or social media. It is becoming the backbone of how customers discover, query, and engage with businesses. When interfaces start to disappear and people rely on voice commands and AI answers, the words themselves will be the brand experience.

Every touchpoint should feel like your brand.

This includes your ads, your product copy, your customer support responses, your frequently asked questions, your packaging, your legal disclaimers, and every other place language shows up. Even the voice and tone of your AI assistants can and should be unique.

If you are going to invest in this, it makes sense to build a writing system as thoughtfully as you would create a design system. You will need guidelines, examples, and tools that help teams stay consistent without losing creativity.

Imagine your AI sounding recognisably yours, in the same way you hear a voice in a film and know exactly who it is. Think about how a single sound can stamp a brand into memory, like the PlayStation or a OS startup chime. Your language should work the same way.

This is the time to find your voice and write words that resonate with people no matter where they meet you. Because in the end, when all the screens and buttons fade into the background, it is the words that will remain.

Is Serving Algorithms the New 9–5?

My feed is flooded with really good advice on how to write for LinkedIn.

How long your post should be.
When to post it.
Where to place the line breaks.
What headline style performs best.
Which formats drive the most impressions.
What the algorithm wants today, and what it might want tomorrow.

Most of this advice is genuinely useful. It’s strategic, considered, often generous. But I can’t help wondering if we’ve just replaced one kind of rigidity with another. Have we made ourselves slaves to a new system, one where the algorithm, not the clock, dictates how and when we show up?

There’s a perfect time to post, apparently. But that’s not why I’m writing this. I’m writing because the thought is alive right now, not because the algorithm says it’s time.

The reason I’ve always struggled with the idea of a 9–5 is because creativity isn’t predictable. Ideas don’t respect time slots, and neither do I.

Over the years, I’ve built a career that allows me to work outside of traditional constraints. I can choose when and how I create. That’s a privilege, yes, but also a conscious decision to avoid a structure that has never suited the way my mind works.

That freedom doesn’t mean I’m in flow all the time. It just means that when I am, I can run with it. And when I’m not, I don’t have to fake it. But more and more, I see creative people trying to squeeze their process into the logic of performance. Write at this time. Post on this day. Use this many characters. Craft for engagement, not for expression.

The people I admire most create because they feel compelled to. Not because the clock says it’s time. And yet here we are, staring at analytics dashboards and adjusting our output to suit invisible forces. It feels less like creative freedom, and more like a digital shift job in disguise.

When inspiration strikes, I want to follow it. I don’t want to schedule it or sit on it. I don’t want to overwork it. I want to publish it, share it, let it go, and make space for the next idea. That rhythm of capture and release is part of how I stay creatively alive. Holding things back just so they can land at a better hour feels counter to the whole point of creating in the first place.

And yes, the data says we should post three to five times a week. Gary Vee would probably tell us to post thirty. And honestly, I could. Some days I’ve got three ideas before lunch. But the moment it becomes a rule, or worse, a routine, I’m out. That’s where the hustle-culture hangover kicks in. I don’t want to be consistent. I want to be compelled. If that means nothing for a week, or three posts in a day, so be it.

If you’ve ever listened to Elon Musk on the Joe Rogan podcast, you may have seen how visibly he struggles with the infinite loop of ideas in his head. I relate to that. Ideas don’t arrive in neat, linear form. One idea leads to another, which leads to five more. It doesn’t stop. And the more I follow those threads, the more I want to create. Not later. Now.

I write because something wants to be written. I post because something feels ready to be shared. Not because the algorithm says it’s the optimal time, or because the format is trending. Those things can help, but they cannot lead. Because if they do, we’re not really creators anymore. We’re just workers in a new kind of system, staring into a different kind of clock.

So perhaps the real question is not how to beat the algorithm, but how to resist becoming dependent on it. How to use it without being used by it. How to show up without waiting for permission. Because if the point is to connect, to share, to express, then we can’t afford to wait for the perfect conditions. We have to go when the fire is lit.

And if this post lands poorly because of when I hit publish, that’s fine. I’ve already moved on to the next idea.

P.S. The perfect time to post is 5:12 PM local time.

My Journey Growing LEGO Channels

Turning my passion for LEGO into something bigger has been an exciting journey. When I first started growing my LEGO channels in 2023, the dream was simple: get monetised doing something I genuinely enjoy. Although life got in the way and early 2024 brought slow progress, I didn’t give up. In November, I came back stronger with a renewed focus on creating shorts, reels, and TikToks—and it’s been paying off!

Celebrating the Wins

Growth is growth, and I’m proud of the progress I’ve made. My YouTube channel is steadily climbing, and I’m sure I’ll hit 1,000 subscribers soon. On Instagram, I’ve already crossed that milestone, and TikTok is well on its way to 1,000 subs in the next few months. My views are up across all platforms, and I even had a viral TikTok video hit over 800k views!

While I’ve had only one short on YouTube reach over 100k views and Instagram is still playing catch-up, the overall momentum is there. Each milestone proves that this journey is worth it. TikTok may not offer monetisation while I’m in South Africa, but YouTube and Instagram hold plenty of potential, and I’m excited to see where they take me.

The Path to YouTube Monetisation

YouTube’s requirements to monetise are tough: 4,000 watch hours from videos, not shorts. While my shorts have been great for gaining views and subscribers, they don’t contribute to the watch-hour goal. But that’s okay—I see them as a stepping stone. They’ve helped me grow my audience, and now I can focus on converting that growth into long-term success.

A Shift in Strategy

With a clearer understanding of the road ahead, I’ve refined my approach. Shorts, reels, and TikToks are fantastic tools to bring in new subscribers, but the key to unlocking monetisation lies in videos. I’m using shorts to expand my reach and build a community, but videos will be the foundation of my passive income plan.

I’m not discouraged by the watch-hour challenge—it’s motivating me to create better content, experiment with different video ideas, and give my audience more reasons to stay engaged.

What’s Next? Bigger Goals and Bigger Builds

I’m gearing up to create more videos because that’s where the magic happens. Every upload brings me closer to those 4,000 watch hours, and with the growth I’ve already seen, I’m optimistic that 2025 could be my breakthrough year. I believe in the long-term potential of what I’m building. It’s not just about the immediate rewards—it’s about creating something sustainable.

LEGO isn’t just a hobby for me; it’s an investment. If I can keep building, sharing, and growing, I know I’ll see a return on that investment. The joy I get from creating, combined with the excitement of seeing my channels grow, is more than enough to keep me motivated.

Full Steam Ahead

Monetisation isn’t an “if” for me—it’s a “when.” I’ve learned that success is rarely overnight, but with patience, passion, and persistence, it’s within reach. If I can stay consistent and continue sharing content I love, I have no doubt that I’ll hit my goals.

2025 could be the year it all clicks. Here’s to bigger builds, a growing community, and the exciting possibilities ahead.