Your Bad Ideas Are Better Than No Ideas
Last weekend, I looked at my book manuscript, stunned.
It was marked with red lines, deleted words, and comments from my editor.
I wanted to sink into the chair.
But what I was really feeling was the disconnect between what I thought I’d written and what my audience actually needed.
Comments like “I don’t get it. What are you trying to say here?” filled the page.
I read through each one carefully. The confidence I had two weeks before that, when I sent it out for a review, was quite different. When I compiled the draft from notes and essays I had taken over the last 3 years, I literally walked out the chair, impersonating my best Tupac voice to my wife, saying “This is the realest shit I ever wrote.”
Two weeks later, staring at my editor’s remarks after her first read, I wondered, “Is what I’m doing making any sense?”
The humility reminded me of the ugliness and beauty of receiving feedback.
But I knew I had to go through this feedback fire to get a better manuscript.
One insight: Feedback Isn’t Criticism. It’s a Mirror for Your Blind Spots.
You’re weird.
And that’s normal.
Everyone has uniquely “weird needs” and that’s why feedback can be unsettling.
Because it’s hard to see your blind spots. Feedback shrinks that gap when you and your audience are in completely different places.
I thought what I had written was flawless. It wasn’t. Everytime I read my editor’s comments, “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say here” or “please tighten up your argument.”
My Nigerian side kicked in quickly, “ahan…what don’t you understand?” Then I re-read the sentence and realized, “oh, I see how that’s ambiguous.” I made the edit or put a note to research some more, and moved on to the next comment.
With every comment, I was reminded thatI wrote the first draft for myself, not my audience. The path forward is understanding the drift between your perspective and theirs. That gap only closes through exposure.
With each iteration in isolation, you get more attached to your idea, even the bad ones.
I know this because feedback still makes my stomach rumble. But I’ve learned that if your work is going to be used by others, the sooner you get a version in their hands, the better.
In a time when it’s easy to create new things, it’s becoming more important to know when to let go of a bad idea. This frees you to focus on the good ones.
Sharing what you are working on gets you to that good idea faster than thinking some more.
Otherwise, you’ll be in your head, saying “just one more tweak.” Next thing, you’re tweaking for nine months in, with no audience or customer. Wasting time, going in the wrong direction.
A good feedback system reduces that drift.
If my editor didn’t mark up my work, I’ll still be here thinking I was working on a classic. It isn’t yet.
Showing my work along the way will get me there.
But I have to let go of the bad ideas I’ve become attached to over years of writing, to give me a chance to grasp the good ones. It starts by realizing that feedback is not “nice-to-have.” It’s a “mus-have” feature for anything you want to build.
Although, just saying it out loud doesn’t make it easier to do.
So how do you build a system that makes feedback the work itself, rather than something you dread?
Here’s the 3-phase detox I’m testing on my own work:
One application: The 3-phase detox system to stop getting high on your bad ideas
Here’s what I’m noticing on the practice ground: The best builders don’t just find good ideas. They consistently let go of bad ones through exposure.
Don’t get high on bad ideas. Detox as frequently as possible.
Over the last two months, I’ve been onboarding founders and business owners for a paid pilot of a product I built. Even though I now have active customers, I demoed it to someone. He was direct, “I would never use this.”
It stung.
Then he explained and it turned out he wasn’t my target persona, because he’s not actively looking to grow his business or understand his audience right now.
I immediately stopped reaching out to people like him. That single piece of feedback saved me weeks of wasted outreach.
Unlike the Tupac energy I had when I wrote my first draft of my next book, this time I remembered the Notorious B.I.G saying “never get high on your own supply.”
So here’s the system I’m testing to stop getting high on my own supply. You can try it too:
Phase 1: Clarify your creation stage: Are you building for yourself or your audience? If it’s the first, do it for yourself and enjoy the process. If it’s the latter, you have to prioritize showing your work and getting feedback.
Phase 2: Design your feedback loop: Be intentional about who, what questions, and format. Start with people matching your target audience. Ask for a 30-minute call.
Be very direct and skip generic questions like, “What do you think?”
Instead, ask, “Will you use this?” “How much will you pay for something like this?” “If there was one thing to improve, what would it be?”
Help your audience give you feedback that’s valuable.
Phase 3: Increase the stakes: Add friction or cost that gives real signals. The realest opinion comes from people’s wallets and limited time. When I put a price on my product, feedback shifted from “interesting” to “will this solve my problem?” That’s the signal that matters.
Remember, it is all part of the process. Your work is in formation. It’s never really done.
The feedback shouldn’t discourage you. Be encouraged that it allows you to let go.
Closing Reflection:
When I look back at my editing session last weekend, I realize I had fallen for a trap I usually speak against, which is wanting to be perfect out the gate.
That’s why my response to my editor’s feedback was jarring.
Now that I took some time to process it, I’ve identified patterns to help rewrite my next three chapters entirely. The book is going to be a lot better. I know I can always improve on my writing and communication skills. Feedback just gets me closer to the audience.
My question to you: “What idea are you holding dear to your chest? What feedback would help you decide whether to let go or hold on tighter?”
It might be the biggest gift you give yourself.
Yours truly,
Nifemi
P.S. What’s one piece of feedback you’ve been avoiding? Reply and tell me what it is – I can bet it’s pointing you toward something important.”
