Welcome to Issue 37 of A Good Reputation, a newsletter about how to use storytelling to grow your brand. (Did someone send you? Subscribe here.)

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Hello Reader,

Convincing my first investor to buy into my big idea was like teaching a cat to fetch.

(Which, as I recently discovered with my little Luna, is way harder than it sounds.)

I was fighting an uphill battle because this investor didn’t fully understand my target market, wasn’t clear on the market opportunity, and had lingering doubts about my experience in the industry.

For context: My big idea was a media platform for new mothers that stood against the polished, performative version of motherhood spreading across social media like the stomach flu at a preschool.

My mission was to create a platform where we could shift the narrative and make space for the messier, more honest stories of motherhood. Stories that helped people feel seen, validated, and less alone. Or make sense of the changes, doubts, and unspoken topics that still carry weight and shame.

(Like the mother who regretted her decision to have kids, or the one who decided not to breastfeed to maintain her figure.)

But when I first pitched him? I didn’t say any of that.

All I said was something to the extent of: "We’re an online magazine for parents who need support navigating motherhood."

Not what was in it for him. Not why he should care. Not why any of it mattered.

Luckily for me (and unfortunately for him), that first investor was my husband. So, I got plenty of chances to keep pitching him. And pitch him, I did.

When I finally got around to articulating the bigger mission—the impact these conversations could have on families, the community, and support systems that would eventually become part of the platform—he started to understand why it mattered.

As a father, he also wanted to feel seen, validated, and less alone. He, too, wanted to connect with other dads struggling through the decisions and expectations around parenthood.

That’s when I sold him on the vision.

And even though I lacked specific experience building media brands, he started to see how my background in journalism gave me the skillset I needed to figure it out. (He also realized I was stubborn enough to see it through.)

Here’s what I’m getting at:

To get people to buy, you first have to get them to buy in.

And getting buy-in—whether you’re raising funding, selling a service, or building an audience—starts with getting people to believe in a few things:

• A better version of themselves,
• A vision of the future they want to be part of,
• And in you.

And the best way to do that?

Create a world through your narrative that your ideal customer wants to be part of.

A Good Framework

World building as a framework for brand building isn't new. But, it was new to me when I first started, and I realized it was new to a lot of people whose brands I helped build.

I've found it to be extremely helpful as a framework because, like any container, it provides guidelines for what to include and what to leave out.

The more I got into it, the more I started to see how every iconic or memorable brand creates a world you can step into where the values are clear, the priorities are obvious, and the rules are familiar. (Or, sometimes, intriguingly different.)

We’ve all bought into a brand because (consciously or subconsciously) it makes us feel a sense of belonging or allows us to signal the world what we care about.

Like, I'm a Subaru owner because I want to be seen as practical, outdoorsy, and community-minded. (Even if I barely leave the city.)

To reference the most overused example, simply because it’s the easiest to understand, let’s look at Apple.

Apple didn’t (and still doesn’t) just sell computers. It sells a sleek, rebellious world where you can “think different.”

The brand started building its world back in 1984, starting with this ad that served as an invitation to escape conformity and imagine yourself as part of a more creative, liberated future.

They created a world that made everyone want to buy that computer. And not just because it’s prettier or better, but because it says something about ourselves, what we value, and the tribe we want to belong to. (You know, the progressive, creative crowd.)

Similarly, Nike didn’t just sell shoes. It built a world where grit, determination, and self-belief were the default setting. Their “Just Do It” campaign makes you believe that you, too, can be an athlete, even if you’ve never even run a mile.

This is what world-building does. It reshapes what we believe is possible, desirable, or worth striving for.

Here’s a more recent example:

My mom has been driving around in a Honda something or other for the past 10 years. She’s a practical, unpretentious person, and that car was just fine for her.

Recently, my dad, who’s a little more wrapped up in what the outside world thinks, found a deal on an Audi. He got it for my mom.

“You know,” she told me, “I actually feel different driving this car. I feel fancier. I walk a little taller into the grocery store.”

Of course she does. Audi has built a world of quiet confidence and refined taste. And my mom feels it.

It doesn’t matter if you’re selling cars or a coaching service. People (usually) don’t just buy things that solve their immediate problems. They buy the beliefs, belonging, values, and promise that those things or services represent.

A Good Takeaway

All that’s to say that the stories you tell shouldn’t be random. They should be constructing a world that shows your ideal customer:

• What matters here,
• How things work,
• What’s celebrated,
• And what's possible.

So, how do you start thinking about world-building as a guideline for building your brand through storytelling?

First, you have to focus on yourself and the world you want to create. Ask yourself:

1. What are the rules of my world? What behaviors are rewarded? What do we avoid or not do?
2. What does this world value? Speed or patience? Craft or efficiency? Luxury or accessibility?
3. What’s the aesthetic of this world? Minimalist? Maximalist? Nostalgic? Futuristic? Experimental?
4. What language is spoken in this world? Formal? Playful? Sparse? Poetic?
5. What problems does this world solve? And how are those problems framed differently inside this world than in the “outside” world?
6. Who already lives here? Who’s invited? Who’s excluded?

Then, go outward and a little deeper. Here’s where you can start asking:

1. What does my ideal customer need to believe is true about the way things are currently done? What do they need to believe is possible?
2. What do they need to believe about themselves?
3. What do they need to believe about you?

For instance, if you’re a nutritionist helping women repair their relationship with food, they may need to believe that dieting culture has failed them, and show them that food can be joyful, not restrictive.

They may need to believe they’re capable of trusting themselves again. And they may need to believe you’re someone who won’t judge or shame them, because you’ve been through it yourself.

Or, let’s say you’re a financial coach for creatives and your ideal client needs to believe that traditional money advice wasn’t built for them. That there’s a different path that honors their values and non-linear income.

Maybe they need to believe they actually can handle money, even if they’ve avoided it. And they need to believe that you “get it” because you’ve lived it, too.

In each of these examples, world-building means creating more than content. It means creating a shared reality that redefines what’s possible, what’s true, and what’s worth believing in.

When you know what your audience needs to believe, you can tell stories that make those beliefs feel natural, inevitable, and obvious.

You can tell stories that show them this world works differently from the one they’re used to. Or that in this world, their desires are valid.

When you tell a customer story, you can show them that a better version already exists. Or you can tell a story of how you came to your unique process or approach that helps them believe that you’re the person who can guide them.

Framing brand building as world-building has changed how I think about storytelling.

It’s helped me tell stories that create belonging, and recognize that every choice shapes what’s possible here, what’s celebrated, and what’s invited in.

And the more care you take to build that world, the more it becomes a place people don’t just visit—but a place they stay, explore, and make their own.

A Few Good Resources

1. If you're building a personal brand, here's another resource from HBR to help you think through how to apply this idea.
2. Related only because everything is about this now: AI isn't a brain. It's a beating heart. This is fascinating.

Hope you have a good one,
Renee