“David Perell’s one of the best scam artists out there”
This was what I told my mom one week into Write of Passage, David’s well-known online writing bootcamp. Prior to enrolling for the course, I had watched his growth as a writer and podcaster. I had developed an admiration for him. So, once my writing journey lined up with the launch of Write of Passage’s 13th cohort, I was excited for the opportunity to learn from him.
But, seven days into the bootcamp, I felt as though I had been deceived. I joined the first two “Live Sessions”, Zoom calls with 200+ participants wherein David taught his online writing principles. They contained unique information I hadn’t heard elsewhere, but nothing that was going to turn me into Stephen King any time soon.
There were also daily sessions called “Gyms”, hour-long sessions where participants were assigned a partner to give and receive feedback on high-level essay topics or full drafts. The fact that I paid money to be put into a room with another inexperienced, “potentially even worse” writer confused me more than Calculus 3. After attending one gym session, I decided it was a complete waste of time and stopped going.
At this point, I believed that Write of Passage was charging 4+ figures to teach mediocre writing advice, and offloaded the bulk of the work and responsibility onto the bootcamp participants themselves. The gap between the perceived value (informed via the cost) and the delivered value was large, in my estimation.
Just like the homeless man weeping on Chicago’s Magnificent Mile, David and his cronies had misrepresented themselves. And I was not going to let them get away with it. Luckily for me, they offered a 14-day 100% money back guarantee for anyone who was unhappy with the course. “A refund? Can’t believe they’d offer that for a course so overpriced” I said smartly aloud, to no one. I decided I would give it a last chance and stick with it for the remaining seven days prior to asking for a refund.
The refund window ended while I was traveling overseas. I missed the deadline, and blamed the 11-hour time zone difference. But, deep down, I knew the truth: I wasn’t giving the bootcamp a fair shot. Instead of chasing a refund post-deadline, I decided to stick with it. I remember reasoning with myself: “I’ll probably make the money back from the crypto market anyways”. (I didn’t).
Once I committed to seeing it through, I vowed to squeeze as much value out of it as I could - partly because I really wanted to become a better writer, and partly because I wanted to make the scammers work for my money. So, during the remaining three weeks of the bootcamp, I busted my butt. I showed up to live teaching sessions, gyms, and writing office hours every day of the week. I spent considerable time on the course’s community site sharing writing feedback and connecting with other writers. I even planned a lunch for the other Utah-based members. During a live Q&A with David near the course’s end, I graciously asked for his advice without a hint of resentment in my voice.
With only a few days remaining, I was not ready for Write of Passage to end. I felt like I had only scraped the surface of the course’s value; there were so many other great writers I had yet to meet, and so many essays I had yet to read. Nonetheless, I walked away from it a significantly better writer, with 50% more subscribers, many fellow writers to collaborate with, and an awesome writing coach to boot. Oh, and the writing advice I said was mediocre? I employ it every time I write an essay.
So, what changed?
I took responsibility. Instead of relying on David and his team to deliver an Ozempic-like solution, I realized it was my job to exercise (by attending Gyms) and eat my vegetables (by writing and editing others’ work) each day. And this was always going to be the case - as with any worthwhile pursuit, there is no magic serum.
I wish I had taken responsibility sooner, of course, but I’m grateful that I recognized it at all. I’m also happy to report that David is, in fact, not a scammer. During his last live session, he was overcome with emotion as he thanked all of his employees that helped make Write of Passage tick. Together, they had created a high quality online writing course. If I hadn’t changed my approach, I would’ve scammed myself out of everything this course had to offer.
Through writing this essay and my previous one, I’ve recognized a pattern: I have a tendency to blame strangers for my own poor judgment or lack of effort. This helps me to avoid potential negative realities (e.g. that I’m not good at writing, that the homeless man used my money for heroin). In this case, it was much easier on my ego for it to be David’s fault that I gained nothing from his course instead of having given a full effort, and not improving.
Now that I’m aware of this pattern, I will be able to recognize it in real-time. If a course, coach, or stranger is not giving me the value or experience I expected, I won’t ask: “Am I being scammed?”
Instead, I will ask: “Am I scamming myself?”
This crony loved reading this. :)
Awesome piece of writing, man! Totally relate to this.