Rachel wants to stand out in her industry. So, she jumps up and down in the middle of her office and yells, “I wish to stand out!” Then, she taps her heels together, and poof! A fairy godmother appears. “As you wish,” says the fairy godmother, and with a shake of her magic wand, Rachel has three heads.

Three beautiful heads, mind you, but I’m sure you’ll agree, no matter how beautiful the heads, three attached to one set of shoulders is simply two too many!

What went wrong here? Other than that I got a wee bit carried away in making my point, I think you’ll agree that it’s not enough to simply *wish* to stand out. No matter the ruckus you make, no matter the tantrums you throw, no matter the begging and pleading you do, wishing will not make it so.

Just today, a newsletter told me to be outrageous. I didn’t read the article (apparently, it wasn’t outrageous enough to pull my attention away from other work), but I’m pretty darn sure that as a marketing idea, “Be outrageous” is an outrageously ridiculous approach. Because outrageous, for the sake of outrageous, is nonsensical. And, sometimes, tragic.

But, that doesn’t mean people aren’t hungry for the unique, the unusual, the intrigue of something just a little bit different from the norm. And yet, the minute you craft an experience that “stands out” or that’s “outrageous,” you’ll have a mess of confused customers on your hands, who are probably frustrated, possibly furious, and, at least according to their attorneys, scarred for life.

So, do you continue to go about coddling your customers? Mollifying your readers? Passively providing politically correct, alliteratively arranged words?

Or do you swing for the fences. Live like you’re dying. Play with fire. (And clichés!)

I vote play with fire. That’s right, *risk something* in your newsletter. (Or in your business, your blog, etc, etc. I’m really not picky.)

I don’t think you should be outrageous for outrageousness’ sake. I don’t think you should set out to stand out just because your audience is bored out of their minds.

In Gever Tulley’s TED talk “5 dangerous things you should let your kids do” he explains *why* children should be allowed to play with fire and how at their most daring and bold and brave, children should be allowed to *play* because that’s how they learn best.

And that’s precisely what I want you to do in your newsletter. *Play.*

See, setting out to be “outrageous,” that’s a mission. That’s an epic quest, all about how you live your life and run your business. And it makes me think that a nap right about now would be a much better choice than any outrageous shenanigans.

But, setting out to *play* with fire, means yes, you’re tempting fate a bit, but in an hour or two, after you’ve set the leaf on fire with the magnifying glass, you can go back inside your safe house, eat your after-school snack, and do your homework. There’s no lasting commitment required to *play* with fire. Just a simple, childlike willingness to give it a try and see what happens.

That’s what I ask of you today. That you, just for today, maybe even just for an hour, try playing with fire, and see what you learn.

How might you play with fire?

• If you blog, link to a blog post you really disagree with (bonus points if it’s a popular point of view or blog) and explain *why* you disagree in a respectful, engaging, playful way. (In other words, don’t start a flame war–that’s not what play is all about. Just open a discussion with someone who might intimidate you a bit.)
• In your newsletter, tell your readers something about yourself that makes you feel like an imposter. If you’re a brilliant marketer, tell your readers about a marketing campaign that failed. If you’re a landscaper, tell your readers about your first garden that was made up entirely of rocks and cacti–and not in an arty way.
• Rub two sticks together and see if you can get a spark. Yes, literally.
• Round up a few neighborhood kids (or your own) and let them challenge you to a game you’re unlikely to win.
• Make a list of rumors you could start, deliberately, about your coworkers or competition. Spend at least five minutes on this list and come up with as many *different*, plausible rumors as you can. Burn the list so it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands, but not before you’ve counted how many you came up with. If you didn’t come up with at least 50, try again tomorrow.

Send me an email and let me know how you’re going to play with fire today. I’d love to hear from you!