*Typing*
You have no idea what you're missing.
This might not work.
Originality comes with the cost of certainty.
To be original is to try things that have never been done before. When you try things that have never been done before, you can't be certain they will work.
This is what separates the original from the unoriginal. It's not so much talent as it is a willingness to step into the unknown, over and over again. Everybody says they want to be original. But nobody wants to deal with the ongoing uncertainty that's required to be original.
If you are after originality, you must constantly challenge yourself to try things that might not work. In fact, 'this might not work' should become your mantra.

Bigger shovels and faster wheelbarrows.
Growing up, I was always helping my grandfather with odd jobs around the house. One of these jobs was moving about a metric ton of gravel from his driveway to his backyard, where he had plans of building an above ground swimming pool.
It was tough work. We would fill a pair of wheelbarrows with gravel. Wrestle them through a gate. Cart them around the back of the house. And, finally, dump them on an empty patch of Earth.
After several runs, I told my grandfather there had to be an easier way. I made suggestion after suggestion. Bigger shovels. Faster wheelbarrows. Different tools. He was patient with me. But, by the fourth or fifth suggestion, he shut me up, "Some work is hard and there's no way around it."
I think about this often. Some problems can't be solved with a great idea. Instead, they require a hell of a lot of elbow grease. Sales is one such problem. Better tools can help. Sharper campaigns can help, too. However, at the end of the day, you just have to be willing to get to work.

How to sell your ideas.
If you work in advertising, you're in the business of ideas. Apple sells laptops. Braun sells toasters. Ford sells trucks. You sell ideas.
Selling ideas is difficult. Ideas aren't tangible like laptops, toasters or trucks. Clients can't test-drive them before they buy them. Instead, they have to trust that you possess the ability to bring the ideas they're buying to life. In a way, they aren't buying the ideas. They are buying you.
Creatives don't like to sell. They see it as unnatural. Unholy, even. However, it's worth remembering that Jesus had twelve Apostles. They were sent out to preach on his behalf. One could argue that preaching is selling Christianity; and that selling any sort of religion is just as intangible as selling ideas.
Religious texts are full of stories. I think that's how you sell ideas. You must believe in your ideas. If you don't believe in them, nobody else will. Then, you must tell a beautiful story about why they should believe in your ideas too.

The math ain't mathing.
I don't like Baseball. I find its slow pace to be punishing. However, like any sport, Baseball is full of life lessons. I had a little league coach who would become irate anytime one of his players struck out by not swinging at the ball.
He would say something to the attune of...
"I don't know if this math still works today, but back when I played, I had a much better chance of hitting the ball if I swung at it."
To him, striking out because you swung for the fences was perfectly acceptable. But, striking out because you were too scared to swing and miss was a cardinal sin.
I still think about this. I hate Baseball and I still think about this. Every time I step up to the plate, I'm trying to rip the cover off the ball.

The Michael Jordan rule.
It probably wasn’t always fun to play with Michael Jordan
Great athletes, writers, artists and entrepreneurs can be uncomfortable to engage with.
Great athletes can be demanding. Great writers can be obsessive. Great artists can be intense. Great entrepreneurs can be fanatic.
They demand greatness from both themselves and those around them; and they understand that greatness is inherently unbalanced.
Greatness makes mediocracy uncomfortable. It forces mediocracy to level up or get the hell out of the room.
If you want to be great—and you want to inspire others to be great—you must let go of your need to be universally well liked.
