This photo, borrowed from Neil Gaiman’s blog, is amazing to me.
 

 
It’s just a snapshot of three guys, all named Neil (or Neal).
 
The guy on the left is Neal Stephenson, one of my absolutely favorite authors (Snow Crash, Cryptonomicon, The Baroque Cycle, Seveneves, Reamde, and a lot more.) To call him a polymath is an understatement.
 
The guy on the right is Neil Gaiman, the world-renowned writer of books, television, films, comics, and more. To say that he’s re-imagined/re-invented the genres of science fiction, fantasy, mythology, and comics is no hyperbole. The dude is global.
 
But that guy in the middle is truly extraterrestrial. That’s Neil Armstrong, the first human being to set foot on something other than the Earth.
 
But this post isn’t about them, per se. It’s about the event where this photo was taken—and the conversation that happened between the two Neils.
 
From Neil Gaiman’s website:
 

“duckswearhats asked: Hi, I read that you’ve dealt with with impostor syndrome in the past, and I’m really struggling with that right now. I’m in a good place and my friends are going through a lot, and I’m struggling to justify my success to myself when such amazing people are unhappy. I was wondering if you have any tips to feel less like this and maybe be kinder to myself, but without hurting anyone around me. It’s a big ask, I know, but any help would make my life a lot less stressful 
 
The best help I can offer is to point you to Amy Cuddy’s book, Presence. She talks about Imposter Syndrome (and interviews me in it) and offers helpful insight.
 
The second best help might be in the form of an anecdote. Some years ago, I was lucky enough invited to a gathering of great and good people: artists and scientists, writers and discoverers of things.  And I felt that at any moment they would realise that I didn’t qualify to be there, among these people who had really done things.
 
On my second or third night there, I was standing at the back of the hall, while a musical entertainment happened, and I started talking to a very nice, polite, elderly gentleman about several things, including our shared first name*. And then he pointed to the hall of people, and said words to the effect of, “I just look at all these people, and I think, what the heck am I doing here? They’ve made amazing things. I just went where I was sent.”
 
And I said, “Yes. But you were the first man on the moon. I think that counts for something.”
 
And I felt a bit better. Because if Neil Armstrong felt like an imposter, maybe everyone did. Maybe there weren’t any grown-ups, only people who had worked hard and also got lucky and were slightly out of their depth, all of us doing the best job we could, which is all we can really hope for”. – Neil Gaiman, neilgaiman.com

 
If you feel you’re an imposter, you’re in very good company.
 
Over the years, I’ve noticed something in myself and others, and hereby offer up this universal truth:

If you don’t think you’re a hack, you are one.

To admit you may not know everything is a tremendous strength, not a weakness. It keeps you striving. It keeps you humble. It keeps you honest. But it should not keep you from sharing.
 
You don’t have to be a narcissist to have a personal brand. You don’t have to be a know-it-all to be a thought leader in your field of expertise. But you do have to be completely honest, about who you are, what you do, and what you know. And that’s what I mean about creating a ‘completely true / completely you’ NonFiction Brand.
 
Know who you are. So you can be it. And never, ever think that what you have to say isn’t worth sharing.
 
– D.P. Knudten