The Hard-Working Words Blog

I’ve had a couple of folks ask about “The Brain Tumor Story” that didn’t quite make it into my Next Internet Millionaire audition video.

So here it is. Names have been changed to keep me from getting angry comments.

Several years back I found myself working as a greeting card writer for a little company here in Seattle. The worst thing possible had happened to the owners, Paul and Gilly–who had originally owned a photography business but then got suckered into making greeting cards: they won an award.

You see, right after 9/11 they’d come out with a series of terribly cute, terribly patriotic greeting cards. You know, pictures of little kids dressed up like minute men with billowing flags behind them. That sort of thing.

They’d taken their patriotic cards to the big greeting card show in New York and, riding a wave of patriotic sentiment, had one the greeting card industry’s equivalent of the Oscar.

Poor saps. They never recovered.

They came dashing back to Seattle all excited that they were going to make buckets of cash turning all their old (and rather good) photos into greeting cards. They sunk their savings into printing up a bunch of cards, hired on staff (including a certain bald-headed writer), rented office space and even opened a little shop to show off their wares.

And they were miserable.

I know they were miserable because I spent 7 long months trekking down the hill to their shop and bearing the brunt of that misery. In fact, it was while working for these folks that I first learned the real meaning of the “Sunday Night Dreads:” that sick, nauseous feeling that bubbles up out of your stomach late Sunday night when you know you’ve got five long days of hell ahead of you.

But it was a job. It (barely) paid the bills. And I hadn’t quite figured out that I had the heart and the lazy habits of an entrepreneur.

Like I said, though, Paul and Gilly were miserable, angry people (or at least Gilly was. Paul was sort of quiet.) They yelled at the staff a lot. They fired people often. They got constant calls from the Washington Unemployment office saying that yet another former employee had complained about it being a “hostile work environment.”

And they taught me a heck of a lot about how *not* to run a business.

But 7 months into my tenure writing weird and funny greeting cards (the writing was actually kind of fun. It was like niche-marketing boot camp) I came shuffling into work on a Monday morning to find out I didn’t have a job anymore.

The money wasn’t coming in.

They couldn’t afford my meager salary.

But if some deals came in they’d hire me back.

The whole thing knocked the wind out of me and sent my blood pressure to the sky.

I mean, I hated the job, but it kept me in ramen noodles and yoga mats and I even got to go eat at the Spaghetti Factory every couple of weeks.

Anyway, they let me go.

I padded over to my computer, forwarded every message in my inbox over to Gilly and went home to sign up for unemployment and figure out what the heck to do with my life.

A week later, I logged into my old work email account just to see if anything had come in that Gilly needed to see.

I figured she’d never think to log in. I was trying to be nice.

And when I logged in, I saw a message that I wasn’t meant to see.

Because instead of emailing one of the manufacturers representatives way out in the middle of the country, Gilly had emailed me. Here’s what she said:

“Dear Jean,

Sorry we took so long getting back to you. Chris has had to take a leave of absence, first because of his soon-to-be-wife’s West Nile Virus, but now because of his own upcoming MRI.”

And then it went on a bit to talk about business.

Me? I picked my jaw up off the floor and called my then girlfriend.

We talked like this:

Me: “Honey, do you have West Nile virus?”
Her: “Um. No. Though I do have a cold”
Me: “Are we getting married?”
Her: “Oh, I hope not. I’m not sure I like you that much.”
Me: “Do I have a brain tumor?”
Her: “Well, your skull is kind of big. I guess there could be anything in there.”

And then my mind went pop.

And I haven’t had a job where I’ve had to go to an office and work for somebody since.

So that’s my brain tumor story and the reason I’m self employed.

What’s yours?

I went to see Penn & Teller ply their magical wackiness at the “Rio All-Suites Hotel And Casino” on Saturday night. It was a good show full of deft slight of hand, fire, handguns, green screens and patter.

But what impressed me most wasn’t the show itself, but the attitude of the performers after the show.

You see, right at the end (after Penn & Teller shoot each other at close range with big honking revolvers) they go dashing off down the aisle and out into the lobby.

And as you exit the show, you see each of them standing there smiling and downright eager to sign autographs and take pictures.

Two things struck me:

1. When he’s not on stage, Teller talks and it’s not a big deal in even the slightest.
2. Penn (who is absolutely huge) calls everyone “Boss.”

My friend Lisa was at the show with me and had this little exchange with the big man:

Penn: “Hey Boss”
Lisa: “Am I really your boss?”
Penn: “Well, actually yes, in a very real sense, don’t you think?”

And then we took our shot (in which I look like a goofball) and went on our way.

But it struck me as refreshing that this multi-millionaire giant of comedy and magic still kept himself humble and nice and truly seemed to believe that the people who pay for the seats are the ones he’s accountable to.

I’ll have comments on my weekend at the “Covert Communications” seminar soon.

Joe Criso was kind enough to point out that videos for Joel Comm’s “Next Internet Millionaire” show are up. You can see mine (in which I resemble nothing so much as a bespectacled ogre) over at This Lovely And Delicious Link

Go check it out. Have a laugh. Unfortunately, it looks like they cut out the good part, which was this funny story I told about my old boss telling people I had a brain tumor instead of saying she laid me off. Lame.

Vote for me here.

I’m off to Vegas for the weekend to attend a seminar taught by my friend and mentor Harlan Kilstein. Back in the saddle nice and early on Monday.

Hey folks,

Welcome back to the Hard Working Words Newsletter

In today’s big issue, we’ll talk about:

* What I *Didn’t* Learn At the BIG, Big Seminar
* A BIG Big Chance You Have To Save Thousands on Your Next Copy Job
*The BIG Marketing lesson I learned when I pulled up a front row seat at curbside “Pigeon Fight.”

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What I *Didn’t* Learn At The Big Seminar
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A few weeks back I attended my very first Armand Morin’s Big Seminar. Check out the Hard Working Words Blog at http://haddadink.com/blog/?p=172 to find out what I learned–and what I wish I had learned–in my 3 action-packed days in Atlanta.

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Here’s How You Can Save *Thousands* On Hard Hitting and Profitable Direct Marketing Copy From Chris Haddad — Condo Sale!
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So as I’m writing this my heart is racing, my palms are sweaty and I feel like I’m going to pass out or spontaneously compose an epic poem. Why? Did I finally hit puberty? Was there something in my Rice Chex?

Nope.

It’s because just a few minutes ago I signed the paperwork on my very first horribly overpriced Seattle condo. If you live in Seattle (or have visited this fine city) you know that condos here are lacquered in solid gold and often require donation of body parts and/or unborn children (andl/or body parts of unborn children, which is sort of creepy) in order to buy.

So to free up some liquid cash to help cover the ridiculous closing costs, I’m having my first ever Haddad Ink. Word Sale. If you’ve got a sales letter, autoresponders, name suck page or other piece of copy you’re ready to have done, call me up now (and I mean right now) at 206-550-5558. For the first 5 clients who call I’ll offer the low, low (ridiculously low) price of just $5,500.00 for a sales letter and order form and a 20% discount off any other work you bring my way.

Call now. The floodgates are open and there are really only so many jobs I can take on.

My triple lindy into the housing market is your gain. 206-550-5558 or chris@haddadink.com.

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Is Your Business Stuck In A Pigeon Fight?
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I was walking home from breakfast yesterday when I saw two burly city pigeons pecking the heck out of each other on the sidewalk in front of me. The fight was fast and brutal. I recoiled at the *fwoop, fwoop* sounds as these two (forgive me) feather-weights battered each other with their wings and stabbed at each other’s jugulars with their sharp pigeon beaks. If I were a small, pigeon-loving child I’m sure it would have made me cry.

As I watched these gray-mottled warriors lunge at each other for round 2, I wondered, what was it that could have caused such an epic pigeon prize fight? An abandoned piece of rustic artesian bread? The affections of a particularly comely female pigeon? The sad realization that these pigeons were, err, pigeons, doomed to live short and meaningless pigeon lives?

I mean, there had to be a good reason that these pigeons were suddenly going for the throat. . .didn’t there? Didn’t there?

Finally the fight broke off and both pigeons (the gray one on the left and the . . .err . . .gray one on the right) launched themselves back up into the air and settled onto the awning of the supermarket. I caught the eye of one of them as he flapped his way up and what I saw there explained everything.

*Because in the eyes of that pigeon I saw nothing but simple, frustrated confusion.*

That pigeon had *no idea* why it had just been in a fight. It had *no idea* what it had just put its life on the line for. And it had *no idea* what it was going to do to make sure it never got into a situation like that again.

*Which is sort of like what a lot of businesses do with their marketing.*

They go hard charging into a market and peck at their competitors throats, fighting to the death over a few scraps of business. Money’s spent. Blood is drawn and when all is said and done, all you’ve got is two beat up and confused pigeons struggling to stay in business.

*Which to my way of thinking, is kind of dumb.*

Over on the Biznik Manifesto (http://biznik.com/about/manifesto.html) I wrote that “Competition is an old myth made up by old men with old ideas and no imagination. There’s work out there–big gobs of it–plenty to make all of us fat and happy and (if we eat too much) probably a little tired.”

Which I really feel like extends out to business in general. I mean, sure, Coke and Pepsi go to war on the airwaves every night, spending huge gobs of money in a desperate fight for market share.

But smart business folks, agile business folks and successful business folks who don’t have million dollar ad budgets know that if you want to *win* a pigeon fight, you’ve got to find a way to avoid getting into that pigeon fight in the first place.

How?

By doing the not-so-hard work of positioning your business, finding a broad niche to explore and realizing that the next guy down the power line isn’t a *threat* to your business, he’s a potential partner who can help you get your fill of all the day old bread you can eat.

(And if that’s not a weirdly stretched metaphor, I don’t know what is.)

That’s it for now folks. You can check out the HWW archives lovingly kept on the HWW Blog (http://www.haddadink.com/blog). And if you need to know more about me, head on over to Haddadink.com.

It’s been a little over a week now since I got back from my first ever Armand Morin’s Big Seminar in Atlanta. This was the 9th of these twice-a-year internet marketing schmooze fests and it seems to me that Armand Morin and crew have refined the whole schtick down to a money-sucking science.

Now first off, I have to say that I have nothing but respect for Armand and the gaggle of marketing superstars who spoke at this 3-day event. Getting to suckle at the wise teats of guys like Joe Polish and Marlon Sanders is worth the (rather hefty) price of admission alone.

And honestly, it was a great trip. I met a ton of verifiably awesome people, pressed flesh with both the well established and up-and-coming in the internet marketing community, did a ridiculous number of free copy critiques (and ended up giving much of the same advice over and over — more of that in another post), and ate way too many complimentary brownies.

And I learned a lot, both about marketing, how to market to marketers and just what happens when you dangle free iPods in the face of a rapid, hyped up crowd:

Things I learned (in no particular order):

* Walking through a completely abandoned mall on a Sunday afternoon is enough to send even the hardiest American consumer into apoplectic fits. Kevin Hill (who writes copy for Russell Brunson) and I clung tight to each other like baby Kangaroos as we shuffled our way through “The Galleria” on our way out into the heat to find food. When even the Subway sandwich shop in a mall is closed up and quiet, you know you’re in trouble. The Galleria will forever be known to us as “The Zombie Ghost Mall” which is probably a nice symbol for a seminar built around selling stuff online.

* If Donna Fox’s piddling career as an author and credit millionaire ever dries up, she’s can totally rock it as a hypnotist’s assistant.

* If you really want to learn something and meet people at an event like this, you need to:
- Have a good, strong handshake.
- Be able to go without sleep for long periods of time.
- Be unafraid to consume large amounts of alcohol until the wee hours of the morning.
- Wear a nice shirt.

* Passing out cards and free copy critique vouchers to several hundred internet marketers is a great way to start conversations with folks. On the downside, if you pepper the whole seminar room with cards, the security at the event will eventually look at you disapprovingly with waggled fingers and Armand will be forced to get up on stage and say that no one else is allowed to paper the room. Live and learn. =-)

* Marlon Sanders is both brilliant and excitable. His “Chop It” tag line will go down in the annals of great pitch tools. By the end of Sunday night everyone in the room had chop, chop, chopped their way through the day, forcing every pitchman to move on down the road and lower their prices.

* Auditioning for Joel Comm’s Next Internet Millionaire is a real hoot. I laid down a couple of minutes of video telling funny stories and trying to be sincere. I don’t think my aud video has been posted yet, but I’ll point you that way when it is. You yourself should NOT audition because, well, I’d really like to go spend two weeks in Colorado.

* Content really is king and is one heck of a selling tool. I watched the bulk of the presentations at the seminar (and wore a hat the whole time. Armand and crew took a cue from Letterman and kept the room cold. My bald head was crying.) Now, the real way that the creators of a seminar like this make money is on the back end. Because of the way their affiliate program is structured, they get about $1000 for each attendee at the Seminar, much of which is spent on food, gifts (iPods and laptop computers, mostly) and the hotel rental. Where the real money is is in the back end. As a presenter at the Big Seminar you’re not just encouraged but are actually expected to go up and pitch, pitch, pitch.

Different presenters handle this in different ways.

Jim Edwards gave a nice little bow to the concept, ducking his head and saying “Ok, I’m going to start my 80 minute pitch now” but instead going off and giving some nice “Why” content explaining why internet webinars are a great way to reach your customer base. Sure, with 20 minutes left, he went into his pitch (which seemed to be a pretty good deal) but by that point it felt like he’d earned it.He was also funny as heck.

Joel Comm opened up with info about his spiffy new internet TV show and then spent a solid hour or more telling us “How” to use Adsense to make money online. Did he give away all the secrets? Nope. But he gave away enough good, solid info that I felt like I legitimately learned something just being in the room.

Some of the other presenters, though (and no, I’m certainly not going to name names) seemed to use their 90 minutes as little more than a hour and a half sales letter.

Now, being in the sales biz myself, I got a kick just out of seeing how they structured their pitch, how they positioned the “real” value of what they were selling versus the “special price for seminar attendees” and all that.

But when I lightly quizzed attendees on what they learned during the presentations most just grinned sheepishly and said “not a thing. Not a damn thing.”

Which I think is dangerous.

Just this morning I finished reading John Reese’s Rebirth Of Internet Marketing (which is worth a download and a read. You also might want to check out Michel Fortin’s “Death of the Sales Letter” which isn’t really about the “death” of the sales letter as much as its evolution.)

In John’s report (and John is a very smart and successful guy with great hair) he drills in the point that if you want to sell to someone in today’s over saturated mediaplace, you need to give them tremendous value and legitimately killer content.

Which means give away the good stuff so that you can sell the great stuff. Which is a principle I tend to agree with. If you’re on my hardworking words mailing list you know that I try to only send out valuable info that will either improve your marketing or get you thinking in an interesting way.

What bugged me about many of the presentations I saw (and again, these are folks I respect) was that they were almost to a T holding back the good stuff in order to get the audience into a rabid buying state. In almost every case I could feel the mood shift in the room as soon as the speaker started talking about what they were selling. Pencils went down. Eyes wandered. Daydreams came crashing in.

Now, I don’t have any scientific data to back myself up, but I’m willing to bet that the presenters who sold the best at the Seminar were the ones who gave it away; the ones who had legit content out on display and who’s up-sell products and coaching groups were positioned as the next step in getting a powerful concept to work for you.

Whew. That’s enough for now. I’ll log in later and throw a few pictures from the seminar up.

Hey folks. Sorry for the radio silence. It’s been busy times here at HWW central. I spent 4 days last week in Atlanta for the Big Seminar and then had to come back and keep my head down catching up on projects.

I’ll be checking in with thoughts on the Big Seminar, video marketing and the art of the handshake later, but for now, you can pop over to haddadink.com to see a few small changes and improvements I’ve made to my site. Chief among them? A harrowing tale of how I almost got killed by a semi-truck a few years back (delivered in delicious audio form) and some downright nifty new testimonials from happy clients.