Good afternoon, darling reader,
Yes, it’s been a while. In fact, this letter - 58 - ought to be more like 60 or 61. Never mind! Here we are. I guess that’s a lesson all on its own, isn’t it?
Today I have a whole lot of things to share with you, which have developed over the past few weeks. You might recall that in a previous letter to you I was waxing lyrical about the benefits of having a boring business?
Well, even a boring business has its moments.
The pride and perils of promotional activity
This year I began sending a printed newsletter titled The Visible Leader to my clients present and past, and to people in positions of leadership whom I wish to see it. You know, people like the CEO of Business SA and the Small Business Commissioner.
In doing so, I made the very strong decision to make it a personal missive. From me to you, if you like; much like The Next Five Years, but even more personal. After all, this is about lessons learned and what a business does in its second five years, and that is really about what’s going on right now. Whenever ‘now’ is.
Since sending it, I’ve had client reactivations (that paid for the issues), and loads of amazing commentary. In fact, one past client (now friend) sent me a text message stating, This feels so personal that I feel like I’ve been on this journey with you.
Cool, eh?
Others have commented about how nice it is to read something in print for a change. And still others just love receiving it. Funnily enough, not many people enter the competitions, but I have a feeling that it will increase over time.
But what of the perils?
What of the dangerous waters?
The most dangerous is its personal nature.
A lot of people see personal branding as this thing that you paint on over the top of yourself. I don’t see it that way. My version is the balls-and-all version, which typically characterises me and my company.
The Visible Leader is a very tiny part of the marketing activity that we have. When I say ‘tiny’, I mean it. I think it goes to maybe 40 people; my daily emails, in contrast, go to 250; and my LinkedIn activity regularly hits 2000.
It’s easy to get complacent about the people at the other end.
Fairly recently, I ran into a situation in Pixie’s promotional activity recently that reminded me to be careful about how I approach the marketing activity that I do.
While I can’t share with you the details that maketh the lesson, what I can share with you is about permissions.
People give permission to companies all the time, in all kinds of ways. In my case, I asked explicitly if I could use assets of someone else, and the someone said yes. It was pretty casual, details weren’t supplied and weren’t asked for. We were both like, yay this is awesome.
But it wasn’t.
Phew, I thought, after I saw the other party’s (much later) reaction. Boy am I glad I asked for permission! My normal thinking is ‘this will all be fine’, but this time I’d had an instinct to ask, and I am extremely happy that I listened to my gut.
I’d be in court right now if I hadn’t.
So what’s the lesson? The lesson is that if YOU give your permission to someone to use your assets (like, I don’t know, your brand name) in promotional material, be really clear about it if you have conditions attached. These kinds of things come up in all kinds of ways, including in contracts!, so be pedantically clear if you have conditions.
And if you want to use someone else’s assets, put everything in writing, with every possible permutation of use, so that the other party can make an informed decision about whether Yes or No is best for them.
That way, everyone will be happy and there will be no surprises waiting on the other side.
This is exactly how businesses become bureaucratic, by the way. The risk and fear of loss becomes Policy and Procedure, and all of a sudden, that loosey goosey freedom of Being In Business For Yourself ain’t so free.
So - have you written the lesson down? Please, stand on the shoulders of others. It’s much easier than learning it the hard way. :P
Structural change always causes collateral damage
At the beginning of this (our seventh) Brutal Pixie year, we had a small and amazing team.
Today? It’s just me.
This is one of the major problems of having subcontractors. They have lives, and sometimes their lives take them in all kinds of fantastic and happy directions… but they just happen to be directions in which you are not.
So, in the interests of lifting work quality and being able to serve everyone properly, I changed how projects are scheduled.
This effectively resulted in a waiting list. I think I have one day left this month that isn’t booked in.
Every client has a dedicated day, and their work is completed at that time. No sooner; not if they beg, borrow or steal. Because it inconveniences up to 20 other people.
It’s fantastic and it works extremely well, except for the people whose businesses require high levels of flexibility. And who had previously obtained that from my company.
(If you’re wondering, yes, I was stressed out, burned out, and exhausted, by not having effective boundaries on project scheduling.)
While I hadn’t even given this structure-versus-flexibility thing any thought when shifting project management at my end, I really ought to have. Because the outcome is that my vision — of being the company with the greatest customer service in the market — I had put recklessly at risk!
This came home to me hard, just yesterday, when I had to inform a client that we weren’t a good fit for each other any more. They are a growing, changing, dynamic business with loads going on; and they needed someone who could just do their work as it comes through. At my end, I can now only book one client’s work per day. What I’ve gained in certainty and scheduling I’ve lost in flexibility.
The two of us had become dramatically incompatible.
The past few months had been a struggle for both us, and all kinds of weird conflicts arose as a result. Plus, they were paying about three thousand dollars a month; not having it is a real kick in our cashflow.
Nevertheless, it was never going to work. Kind of like those relationships you have where you love the other person but you’re just bad for each other. It was like that.
The conversation was so hard.
Those conversations always are so difficult! I’ve had more than my fair share, of firing clients, I sometimes think.
In almost all cases, I’ve seen the red flags way in the distance. Usually I’d ignore them; but eventually I end up hating my business, and that’s no way to do anything!
So it was that I presented the case to my client, who initially disagreed. But once we’d run through all of the issues in the relationship, we were both on the same page.
And when we were walking out of that meeting, we were still friends.
While at least one of my business mentors will be disappointed in the outcome, the truth is that an incompatible working structure, particularly when one is a creative business and requires boundaries and space in order to function correctly, never ever works.
Being a creative is kind of like being a consultant, and at the same time nothing like being a consultant. This is largely because you’re not given much credit for your analytical, structural, or management skills, even if they are fantastic. You’re also not inside a business in the same way that a consultant is, because you’re not getting your hands into the heartbeat of their strategic work. Even when you create strategic materials, you’re still somehow kept out of the viscera.
Perhaps if I wore a three-piece suit and was on-site with people all the time, people would take on board our advisory. But frankly, I’d rather vomit on my feet.
So what does all this mean for Pixie right now?
Well, right now I am rapidly falling out of love with my work. That’s not because of the work, so much as it is about a personal project that I’m growing right now.
Client work is always difficult, because clients are Humans and Humans are beautiful and chaotic.
Nevertheless, it’s a tricky place to be.
I feel like I’m almost past wanting to be consultative.
Perhaps there’s a Seven Year Itch in a business, where you think that selling tampons would be easier, because at least people want them.
Perhaps that thought, man my life would be so much easier if I was just working as an auditor (you know, because I can, because I AM a certified auditor) has legs.
Or maybe I just have to swim with the tide again and see which beach I end up at.
Because the question is: Am I just looking at greener grass under someone else’s tree?