The Hard-Working Words Blog

You know the old adage about squeaky wheels? Sure you do. They get all greased up and taken care of while the quiet ones get completely ignored.

I went down to take my 4PM yoga class yesterday expecting to spend an hour and a half sweating and stretching with Bret, my favorite teacher. The guy is a motivational monster. He has a way of making you do things you didn’t think were possible, practical or cool and have you loving him for it at the end of class. He’s single handedly helped me deal with (if not overcome) some painful physical challenges and I always found myself looking forward to his classes.

Until yesterday.

Because yesterday I showed up for class and found out that some squeaky wheels complaining about classes being too hard made it so Bret doesn’t teach there anymore. Not to say the other teachers are bad. They all know their stuff. They all know how to make you stretch. But they aren’t Bret.

And after class, a gaggle of us were sitting there saying “You know, Bret was a big part of the reason I come here. Bret was a big part of why I do yoga at all.”

I’m wondering how this is going to shake out. I’m wondering if the powers that be are going to find out the hard way that it’s the quiet ones you need to pay attention to. It’s the quiet ones who are the core of your whole damned business.

Over on the Biznik Blog Scott Bourne has a post about his Radical Approach to pricing his services.

Basically, he asks for a flat startup fee and then says “Pay me what you think the work is worth.” And that’s that. No invoicing. No chasing down checks. Just Scott standing there with a smile and waiting to see what customers do.

In a way it reminds me of my friend Kevin Goldman. Kevin never orders at restaurants. He just sits down, grins up at the waitress with his overwide smile and says “Bring me something good.”

And what does the waitress do? Well, it varies. Sometimes he gets shellfish. Sometimes he gets steak. But he always leaves happy.

“Well, I just don’t have time to do it myself”

Over the last three years I’ve been freelancing I’ve learned some hard lessons about how to work with clients, just what the heck “Professional” means and how to make a decent live as an Indie Pro without sacrificing my ethics, my passions or my almost pathological need to take languid naps on Tuesday afternoons.

But the biggest lesson I learned is this one:
If you ever sit down with a client to kick off a project–and I don’t care if you’re a house cleaner or a high-priced consultant–and during the course of your conversation they say “Well, I just don’t have time to do it myself” pack up your bag, tip your hat, wish them luck and dash like the road runner out of their as quick as you can.

Why?

Because those ten little words say volumes.

They say “I see the work you do as a simple commodity that I could certainly do if I ‘Just had the time,’ not as a hard-earned and valuable skill that should be left to a qualified pro;”

They say “I’m going to nitpick, second guess and micromanage every single thing you do;”

They say “I’m going to wince, howl and raise my eyebrows at your prices, no matter how reasonable they might be;”

And, most importantly, they say “I’m not a client you’re going to enjoy working with, and isn’t enjoying what you do the whole point of running your own business?”

Now, of course I learned this one the hard way–and regretted every moment I spent working on that project.

So be smart, my friends. Be smarter than me. And know when to run.

Welcome to the Hard-Working Words Newsletter–-a monthly publication from copywriter and word-mercenary, Chris Haddad. If you’d rather not receive this email, simply send a message to unsubscribe@haddadink.com. The little elves who live in my computer will take care of everything.

August, 2006

Hey folks,

The Hard Working words blog is just chocked full of copywriting and marketing goodness. Check it at HWW Blog and why not subscribe to the RSS feed while you’re there?

Getting to We

Norwegian people are weird. And so are Swedes. And the movies they make? Even weirder.

For instance:

Last week I curled up on my couch one night and watched a Norwegian/Swedish flick called “Kitchen Stories.” According to IMDB the plot is:

“A scientific observer’s job of observing an old cantakerous single man’s kitchen habits is complicated by his growing friendship with him.”

In other words, a middle aged Swedish guy is assigned to sit in a really high chair and watch what an old Norwegian guy does in his kitchen. And under no circumstances are the middle aged Swedish guy and the old Norwegian guy to, you know, actually talk to each other.

For a foreign film, it’s got the fewest subtitles I’ve ever seen. Vast stretches are just filled with old white men waggling their eyebrows at each other or sharing long, uncomfortable silences

And, of course, the two of them do talk and do become friends and do have long conversations about which side of the road it’s proper to drive on.

And of course I learned a whole bunch about marketing just by watching a couple of old Europeans make eyes at each other.

Oh, come on Chris, this one sounds like a stretch even for you

Oh, I’m not so sure about that.

Here’s the deal:

Theoretically you and customers have a pretty formal relationship. You sit in your high chair, they sit at their kitchen table and the interactions between you are formalized and few. You might send out a marketing piece, they might come buy something, but it’s a shallow relationship, a marriage of convenience and an unemotional one at that. In other words, you really don’t talk.

But to be successful in the marketing eco-sphere of 2006, you’ve got to come down off your high chair, get away from that “Us, Them” formal mentality. To be successful today, you’ve got to create a relationship and a community around your company.

To be Successful today You’ve got to Get to We

Do me a favor: Close your eyes and dig through your brain for those companies that you feel warm and fuzzy about.

Got it? Ok. What makes you feel so great about that company? Is it the quality of the product? Is it the quality of the product? Maybe a little. Is it their awe inspiring customer service? Maybe. But I’m willing to bet that the real cockle-warming, loyalty building factor is this: It’s a company that makes you feel special. It’s a company that makes you feel like you’re part of a community.

It’s a company that makes you think “We”

For instance, I’m a rabid and loyal Mac user. I ditched out of the world of PC’s 4 years ago and haven’t looked back. I read Mac news websites, get into long conversations about the relative merits of Mac OS X versus Windows and, yes, feel just that little bit smug and superior whenever I see a PC user struggling with an un-elegant behemoth of a laptop.

In other words, when I think Apple and the people who use their products, I think “We.” Apple has created a community (or maybe a cult) around their products and that community is key to keeping them strong and powerful in the future.

I used to drive a Volkswagen (now I’m a proud pedestrian) and thought “We” when I thought about VW drivers.

I go to a Yoga Studio and think “We” whenever I look around at all the smiling/grimacing/sweating faces.

Huh. Ok, but how do I get my customers to start thinking “We?” How do I convince them to build a community around my company and become emotionally invested in what I do?

Glad you asked. The keys to “We-ness” are:

A. Giving tremendously awesome customer service.

B. Making your customers feel special and unique.

C. Having an honest to god conversation with them on a regular basis.

Now, the first two are either self-explanatory or huge topics that I don’t have room for here. But that third part is easy. How do you have a regular conversation with your customers?

-You start a blog (and post to it on a regular basis. And actually reply to the comments left by customers or potential customers.)

-You send out a newsletter that’s packed not with self-promotional pap, but with honest-to-goodness useful information.

And you send regular messages–and I don’t really care how you do this–that show just how much you appreciate your customers.

Speaking of which: Have I told you how much I love you, Dear HWW readers? I don’t know that I have. So let me do it now.

I love you.

If you want to talk about this further, drop me a line at chris@haddadink.com

or pop over to the HWW Blog and leave a comment.

Get Strategic

Strategic marketing consultant and friend of Haddonia (he’s got diplomatic immunity in my office), Dominic Canterbury has just launched his very own blog. It’s downright tasty and refreshingly comabtive. Check it out at http://www.dcstrategic.blogspot.com

And that’s all for this month, folks. I gotta go talk to some customers.

Comments? Questions? Harsh invectives?: chris@haddadink.com.

All content is copyright Chris Haddad, 2006. Feel free to distribute this issue far and wide as long as the entire newsletter is kept intact.

To learn more about Hard-Working Words and the never-ending battle against jargon, visit http://www.haddadink.com or call 206-550-5558.

Chris Haddad is available to speak at your conference or event. From copywriting basics to marketing mastery, Chris can communicate complex concepts in a way that will have both your brain and your cheekbones aching.

Ralston 360 (a marketing firm specializing in podcasting) does a great job of explaining the whacky world of the pod and why you might want to dive in.

Check it out here.

Ugh. There’s nothing quite like waking up to find an overflowing crate of chatty plastic parrots, erotic board games, horribly ugly action figures and dangerous and sharp bits of industrial metal sitting square in the middle of your living room.

Except for maybe tripping over said crate and having to remember how you got it in the first place.

Friday night Megan Groves and I went down to the home of Beth Yockey and Scott Jones for a rousing night of “Junk Poker”–which can be quickly summed up as “Poker where you really, really want to lose.”

I packed up a duffel bag with a bunch of stuff that had accumulated around my apartment. You know what kind of stuff I’m talking about. Stuff like that bike-tire codpiece I wore in that really bad play 4 years ago. Or a pair of bright red boxing gloves. Or the random and mysterious bars of lead that have been sitting in my closet for as long as I can remember. You know, junk.

And let me tell you, I suck at poker. I can’t bluff to save my life. I have no idea what cards I should hold onto and I have a tendency to let my lower lip quiver madly when I’ve got a good hand. I was absolutely confident that I’d be coming home empty handed. Confident and maybe even a little bit cocky. I went down there knowing that I was going to lose.

“And the river . . .it’s a 9 of hearts!”
“GAHHH! NO! NO! Oh, come on! This isn’t funny anymore.”
“Your pot, Haddad. Take it and weep.”

By the end of the night I was a just about buried under bad books, lacy things and Hulk comics. It took two trips just to get out to the cab. I was a . . . gasp . . .winner. . . and I’d never been so miserable.

Which brings us to today’s topic:
Losing by winning.

You ever know somebody who gets everything they ever thought they wanted and it drives them absolutely nuts? I knew a guy back in college who dropped out two years early and got his dream job running the account side of an advertising agency in San Francisco. He was making piles of money with piles more responsibility and it made him fat and angry and burned out at 23.

And I’ve seen too many small business people win big contracts that they fundamentally don’t want to do and that, fundamentally, lead them down the absolute wrong path in their life.

Or, heck, folks who win the lottery just to end up broke and friendless 3 years later.

Or. . .well, you get the idea.

Sure, we all want to be winners.

But before you throw your money on the table, make sure you know what game you’re playing. And make sure it’s a game you actually want to win.

Bone tired. Exhausted. That’s what I am. Since Thursday night I’ve been filming season two of Cherub: The Vampire with Bunny Slippers.

And like I said, I’m exhausted. I feel like I’m about to fall right off this chair and curl into the fetal position for a six-hour nap.

Best part? I’m back on set at 6 tonight and will keep right on keeping on right through the weekend.

But there’s an upside. And that upside is this: When you’re acting in a film, you get lots of time to think. Granted, most of that time is spent thinking “Shoot, do I know my line?” and “Man, when is crafts services getting here?” and “I wonder if I look fat in this pirate costume.”

But sometimes, as you’re sitting there on take 15 trying your darnedest not to trip over your three each boots, you find yourself thinking something useful. Something like “Huh, on a film set you really have to pick and choose when you should make some sort of witty comment and when you should just keep your mouth shut. And that’s just like a marketing piece. That’s just like sometimes you’ve got to just clam up and let your prospect do what they need to do to make the sale.”

It was like an epiphany. Only shorter. And did I mention the pirate costume?

This landed in my inbox this morning:

Guy calls a plumber because he can’t figure out why his pipes are making
noise. Plumber comes in, inspects a few things, twists a knob and hands him
a bill for $300.

“Hey!” The guy’s incensed. “How can you charge me $300 for twisting a knob?”

“I’m not charging you for my time. I’m charging for knowing which knob and
what to do with it.”