Michelle: Alright Mark, I'm going to say a book title, and I want your honest, one-sentence reaction. Ready? Burn Your Portfolio. Mark: Okay... my reaction is: 'Is this book written by my landlord?' Because that sounds like a recipe for unemployment. Michelle: That's perfect! And it gets right to the heart of the book. Today we're diving into Burn Your Portfolio: Stuff They Don’t Teach You in Design School, But Should by Michael Janda. Mark: So he's not actually advocating for arson and a career change? I was getting my matches ready. Michelle: Definitely not. Put the matches away. What's fascinating is that Janda ran his own successful design agency for over a decade. He wrote this book because he kept hiring these incredibly talented designers with amazing, jaw-dropping portfolios who had absolutely no idea how to talk to a client, manage a deadline, or work in a team. Mark: Ah, the classic genius who you can't actually have in a meeting. I know the type. Michelle: Exactly. The book literally grew out of his internal training manual. He created a system for his own employees to standardize how they handled clients and projects, and that eventually became this guide for the entire creative industry. He realized the problem wasn't unique to his agency; it was a massive gap left by design education everywhere. Mark: Wow, so this isn't just a philosophical rant, it’s a field guide written from the trenches. That actually changes everything. It’s born from pure necessity. Michelle: Precisely. And that necessity leads us directly to the book's most provocative and central idea, the one that makes every design student and freelancer break out in a cold sweat.

Michelle: The whole paradox of the title, "Burn Your Portfolio," is that it attacks the most sacred object in a creative's life. From day one of design school, you're told your portfolio is everything. It’s your resume, your proof of worth, your entire identity condensed into a PDF or a website. Mark: It is! It’s the evidence. It’s how you prove you can do the work. If you don't have a killer portfolio, you don't even get a foot in the door. How can he say to burn it? Michelle: Here’s the crucial distinction he makes: the portfolio isn't the key to success. It's just the key to the door. It gets you the interview. It proves you have the baseline technical skill. But it's everything else that gets you the job, helps you keep the job, and ultimately, gets you promoted. Mark: Okay, I can see that. It’s like being a brilliant quarterback who can throw a football a hundred yards, but if you're a terrible teammate and argue with the coach, you're not going to win the championship. Michelle: That’s a perfect analogy. Janda saw this constantly. Let's imagine a scenario based on his experience. His agency, Riser, hires two designers. First, there's "Chloe." Her portfolio is a work of art. It's won student awards, it's innovative, it's technically flawless. Everyone is blown away. Mark: She's the first-round draft pick. The prodigy. Michelle: Exactly. Then there's "Ben." Ben's portfolio is good. It's solid. It shows he's competent and has a good eye, but it doesn't have that same "wow" factor as Chloe's. He's a safe, reliable choice. Now, the first big project comes in. It's for a major client with a tight deadline. Mark: Naturally, you give it to Chloe, the superstar. Michelle: That's what you'd think. But here’s what happens. The client gives feedback. They want to change the color palette from her brilliant, avant-garde choice to their boring, corporate blue. Chloe takes it as a personal insult. She writes a passive-aggressive email explaining why their choice is aesthetically bankrupt. She becomes difficult to work with. Mark: Oh, I've seen this movie. It does not have a happy ending. Michelle: Not for the project manager, no. Meanwhile, she's so focused on her "artistic vision" that she isn't communicating with the copywriter or the developer. She misses a couple of internal deadlines, assuming her brilliant work will make up for it. The project starts to go off the rails. Mark: And what's Ben doing this whole time? Michelle: Ben is on a smaller, less glamorous project. But when his client gives feedback, he replies with, "Thanks for the input! I see what you're going for. Let me work up a couple of options that incorporate your brand color while maintaining the modern feel we discussed." He sends daily progress updates to his team. He flags a potential issue two days before it becomes a crisis. He's reliable. He's professional. Mark: He’s the guy you actually want on your team when things get tough. Michelle: And that's the punchline. After a few months, who do you think gets the lead role on the next huge, career-making project? It’s not the "genius" with the perfect portfolio. It's Ben. Because the agency owner, and the clients, trust him. They know he'll deliver good work, on time, without creating drama. Chloe's portfolio got her in the door, but her lack of professional skills is keeping her in the junior leagues. Mark: That is such a powerful, and frankly, terrifying story for a lot of creatives. But it rings so true. But what if the client's feedback is just… objectively terrible? Isn't the brilliant designer right to push back and protect the quality of the work? Michelle: That’s the nuance. The book doesn’t say you should just be a yes-man. It teaches you how to push back constructively. It’s about educating the client, not insulting them. You can say, "I understand the need for the corporate blue. One thing to consider is that on digital screens, this other shade has better accessibility contrast, which could improve user experience. How about we try a version with each and see which one feels stronger?" Mark: Ah, so it’s about framing your expertise as a way to help them achieve their goals, not as a way to prove you're smarter than they are. Michelle: You've got it. It's a shift from being an "artist" who serves a muse to being a "professional" who serves a client. And that requires a completely different set of skills. Mark: Okay, so if the portfolio isn't the holy grail, what is? What are these other skills? It feels so vague to just say 'be professional.' That's where I think a lot of people get lost.

Michelle: That's the perfect question, because it leads us right into the second half of the book. This is where Janda lays out the "unwritten rules" of the creative business. These are the practical, tactical skills that he had to teach his own employees, the stuff that formed his "Jandacotocol." Mark: A secret playbook. I like the sound of that. Give me something from the playbook. What's rule number one? Michelle: One of the most critical sections is about something that gives every freelancer and small agency owner anxiety nightmares: managing clients and money. Specifically, how to handle a client who is late on payments. Mark: Oh man. The awkward follow-up email. The "Hey, just checking in on that invoice..." that you rewrite twenty times so you don't sound desperate or rude. It's the worst. Michelle: It is the worst. And Janda's point is that this anxiety is a symptom of a broken process. He uses an analogy: you wouldn't expect a plumber to come to your house, fix a burst pipe, and then just say, "Well, I hope you pay me sometime in the next three months!" It would be absurd. They give you a bill, you pay it. End of story. Mark: Right, because they're seen as a professional trade. Creatives are often seen as... I don't know, hobbyists who are just lucky to get paid. Michelle: And Janda argues that creatives need to claim that same level of professionalism. The solution isn't a perfectly worded follow-up email; the solution is a rock-solid contract and process before you even start the work. His rule is simple: get a deposit upfront. Always. For new clients, maybe it's 50%. This does two things. First, it's a practical cash flow tool. Second, and more importantly, it's a psychological filter. Mark: What do you mean, a filter? Michelle: A client who is willing to pay a deposit is a client who is serious about the project and respects your time and work. A client who balks at a deposit is a giant red flag. They are far more likely to be the client who disappears when the final invoice is due. The deposit isn't just about the money; it's about establishing the terms of the relationship from day one. You are a professional partner, not a desperate artist. Mark: That is so simple, but so powerful. It reframes the entire dynamic before a single pixel is pushed. Okay, what's another unwritten rule? Michelle: Another huge one is preventing "scope creep." Every creative knows this pain. You agree to design a three-page website. The client then says, "Could you just add one more small section?" And then, "Can we also add a blog?" And, "While you're at it, can you design a quick logo for the header?" Before you know it, you've done twice the work for the original price. Mark: It's the "just one more thing" disease. It's a plague. How do you stop it without seeming unhelpful or nickel-and-diming the client? Michelle: Again, it comes down to the process you establish at the beginning. The contract needs to be incredibly specific about the deliverables. Not just "a website," but "a five-page website consisting of a Homepage, About Page, Services Page, Portfolio Page, and Contact Page. This includes two rounds of revisions. Additional pages or rounds of revision will be billed at a rate of X per hour." Mark: So you're not saying "no." You're saying "yes, and here's how we'll handle that." Michelle: Precisely. It takes the emotion and awkwardness out of it. It's not a personal conflict; it's just a matter of following the process everyone already agreed to. When the client asks for a new page, you can cheerfully say, "Absolutely, we can add a blog! As per our agreement, additional pages are billed at our hourly rate. I'll send over a quick addendum to the contract for you to approve, and we can get started on it right away." Mark: Wow. Suddenly you're not the difficult artist, you're the organized and helpful project manager. You're in control. It’s about building a professional framework around your creativity so the creativity itself can flourish. Michelle: That is the core of the entire book. It's about building a business structure that protects your time, your money, and your sanity, so you can focus on doing the creative work you love. The "soft skills" aren't soft at all. They are the hard, essential foundation of a successful creative career.

Michelle: When you put it all together—the paradox of the portfolio and these unwritten rules—you see what Janda is really arguing. He's urging creatives to undergo a fundamental identity shift. Mark: What kind of shift? Michelle: A shift from thinking of themselves as just "artists" to thinking of themselves as professional service providers. The "art"—the design, the photograph, the copy—is the product. But the "service"—the communication, the reliability, the process, the client management—is what creates a sustainable career. Your talent might get you a single gig, but your professionalism is what builds a reputation that brings clients back again and again. Mark: So the big takeaway is to invest as much time in learning about contracts, client communication, and project management as you do in mastering Photoshop or Figma. Michelle: Exactly. Your creative skills are the engine, but your business skills are the steering wheel, the brakes, and the GPS. Without them, you're just going to crash. The book is so highly-rated by professionals because it’s not academic theory; it’s a survival guide. It’s filled with hundreds of these small, actionable nuggets of wisdom. Mark: It makes me think about all the creatives out there struggling, feeling like impostors, not because their work isn't good enough, but because no one ever gave them the playbook for the game they're in. Michelle: And that's why a book like this remains so relevant. It hands them the playbook. So a great first step for anyone listening is just to start a conversation about this. We'd love to hear from our listeners, especially those in creative fields. What's the one 'unwritten rule' you wish you'd learned sooner? The one piece of advice that would have saved you a massive headache. Let us know on our social channels. Mark: I can't wait to read those. It's like a crowdsourced version of the "Jandacotocol." Michelle: It is. Let's build the ultimate survival guide together. Michelle: This is Aibrary, signing off.