There were a couple of responses to my call for your most burning questions that point to an important part of marketing and personal branding: you.

The questions were about name recognition, writing a bio, and how to write an About page for your website. Each requires talking about yourself in a way that engages your audience.

Unless you’ve gone through the process a few times, writing a bio or About page for your website can be stupidly intimidating. You’re not sure exactly what you should write. You want to impress people. You want to sound smart and talented and likeable, or smart and talented and edgy, or smart and talented and sophisticated.

Which might be exactly the wrong approach.

Stop trying to impress people and tell it like it is
You know what happens when you try too hard. You trip yourself up almost instantly, wanting to prove yourself worthy. But it’s not about being worthy—it’s about being real.

Your audience wants to know you, the artist. They want to make a connection with the person who makes the work they want to buy.

Start with the facts
You probably have a resume kicking around somewhere with some important dates on it. The training that gives you professional credibility, years of experience, awards and shows. Take the best pieces and put them into a few paragraphs, along with pertinent facts about your work, and possibly where you were born and where you live now. Make it into a story to engage your reader.

You have probably also read countless bios of other artists, as well as prominent people. Go look at a few, both of people you know, and famous artists. For the sake of quick reference, here’s one on master portrait photographer Yousuf Karsh. Yours won’t read exactly like his (because you’re still here, and probably not world famous), but you get the idea.

There’s no perfect formula
Don’t feel like you have to follow a formula, and don’t feel like there’s only one correct way to write your bio. You don’t have to say where you were born or where you grew up. If you do a little research, you will realize there’s no one style or format. Make sure you have the important information in there, then write what feels most authentic to you. If your audience loves hearing about how many kids and pets you have, write about it, as long as you feel comfortable. If not, leave it out.

Who should you be—I, he, she or we?
Some people like to write about themselves in the third person, and sometimes it’s appropriate. That usually happens in a formal document, when a convention has already been established about writing about yourself as “she,” and it usually involves far too much paperwork and a snooty jury of some kind. Normally you will be you (that is, “I”), unless there are more than one of you, in which case you’ll be a “we,” not an “I.” Don’t use the royal “we,” which is a bit pretentious.

(I was trying to make you laugh, not confuse you. Writing about yourself can be stressful. It shouldn’t be, because you’ve been you all your life, but it is. Not taking yourself too seriously can help keep you grounded.)

The point I’m trying to make is you don’t want to get too complicated or too uptight. Talking about yourself in the first person isn’t narcissistic, it’s factual. If you really want to go with third person, and it fits your personal style, do it.

If you want to write in first person and want a bio that can be used for press coverage, write one in third person and put a link to it on your website for just that purpose (tip: reporters love it when you make their jobs easier).

Your About page—should it really be about you?
If your About page is your bio page, then obviously the answer is yes. But if you offer a service, your About page might focus on your audience, and what you can do for them, with a short bio at the end.

How you organize that information depends on how you set up your website. You can have a Services (or Gallery or Portfolio) page, and an About page that contains your bio. Make it as easy and clear for your website visitors as you can. Some creatives who offer services take a “Who We Are” and “What We Do” approach. Dead easy for anyone visiting the site to figure out exactly what’s on the site.

(Writing tip: technically, none of the above capitalized words are proper nouns, so they shouldn’t be capitalized. I’m just pretending they’re officially named pages so you don’t get confused.)

What to do when you’re stuck
This is an exercise I like to suggest when you can’t get out of your own head: write a letter. An old friend, who you haven’t seen in years, asks what you’ve been up to lately. What would you tell her? Write it down, without editing, until you run out of words. Then leave it for a while, even a day or two, then come back and clean it up—without losing your own voice.

If you’re still stuck, do a W5: who, where, when, what, and why. Adapt as needed. That will give you a basic structure and solid starting point. When you flesh it out, remember that your audience, no matter who they are, connect with your work and you, so you don’t want to back away so much that you disappear.

Be present
The work doesn’t sell itself. If it did, you wouldn’t be thinking about writing a bio, or an About page, or working on marketing. You make the work, and directly or indirectly, you—your reputation, your brand—are a critical part of selling it.

Over to you: what trips you up when talking about yourself? How do you approach writing your bio?

Related posts:

1. The other big problem with marketing
2. Rule your online domain – make your website work for you
3. The ins and outs of your first impression (part 1 – work in)

I’m kind of on the DL this week (that would be the Disabled List for those of you who aren’t into sports). I have a knot in my shoulder blade big enough to require a name, and it’s been sending late-night scouting parties north to make me grind my teeth in my sleep. I’m not in the best of shape at the moment, so until I get myself fixed I’m trying to stay away from the keyboard.

Instead of limping through a half-baked post, I have a question for you. Actually, I have a few questions:

1. What are your biggest frustrations when it comes to marketing your work?
2. What drives you crazy about trying to create as well as run a business?
3. What are your biggest questions about selling?

Since my goal is to help you make your marketing as effective and painless as possible, I’d like to hear your most burning questions about your marketing and your creative business. Tell me the things you want to figure out and the issues you want to take care of. I’ll get busy writing articles for you, starting next week.

(You don’t have to stick to the list—that’s just to give you a few ideas.)

If I don’t get any questions I’ll just make something up, but I’d really love a deluge of queries, suggestions for posts and rants about the things that have you tearing your hair out.

You can leave a comment below, or visit the Contact page if you’d rather send an email behind the scenes.

Over to you: Fire away!

Related posts:

1. A chance to take part in Blog Action Day
2. From your brain to your bones – set your priorities and sort your ideas
3. How to write your bio and About page without driving yourself crazy

Money—it’s a complicated, emotional subject. It’s so easy to get your self-worth tied up in it, so easy to get intimidated, particularly when you ask people to give you their money in exchange for your work.

Sit with that for a minute. You ask people to give you their money in exchange for your work. Does that make you uneasy?

It shouldn’t. It’s how our economic system works, for the most part—money in exchange for a service, or something you can hold in your hands.

When an employer rents your time, you show up, do the work, go home, and repeat the process as often as necessary (or, depending on your disposition, as long as you can stand it). There might be complaints. There’s not enough money for the amount of work, responsibility, or stress that goes with the job. There’s no hesitation about wanting more.

When you sell what you create, there might be some frayed nerves when it comes to asking for money, at least until you get used to it.

So what’s the difference?

There’s nowhere to hide
When you work for someone else, you get to hide behind their name. Even if you screw up royally and get fired, your employer has to take the heat and deal with disgruntled customers. They get to take the deep breath and put the prices on the tags.

When it’s just you and your business, that safe zone is gone. It’s your neck stuck out there—it’s you the customers are judging—your ideas, your talent, your heart and soul. It can be pretty damn scary.

If you don’t ask for too much money, maybe they’ll go easy on you. So all of a sudden, money isn’t an exchange of value for value. It’s about approval. And you might do all kinds of stupid things to get it, because disapproval is a mighty unpleasant feeling.

The truth is, the decision to pull out the wallet is a form of approval no matter who’s buying what. Someone says, “I’d like to have that.” You do it when you buy, too.

Take refuge in the marketplace
When you get emotions tangled up with money, you forget you’re part of an established marketplace. There are prices in your medium that are already accepted by buyers. That ground has been broken. Depending on what you do, the range can be wide, depending on skill and reputation. But those numbers can help you get out of your spin. They can help you to stop thinking about approval and start thinking about business.

Ultimately, the right price is the one the market will support.

How does that feel?

Adjust your perceptions
Whether you work for someone else or are self-employed, you think about making money. That rings particularly true for creatives, but the thought needs to be expanded. While the work you produce is always most important, you do much more than that. You run a business, which involves heavy responsibility and requires a varied skill set. You’re not playing at it. It’s not an amusing little hobby.

How do you feel about money? Think about how you earn it.

Over to you: Do you get hung up about money? If you sell with confidence, how do you avoid the money jitters?

Related posts:

1. Economy, fantasy and the value agreement
2. A little Christmas shopping insight
3. Success defies comparison

Three people I know have said nearly the same thing over the past few days—Why can’t I get this right?

One person was frustrated at not being able to master a new skill quickly. One was trying to wrestle designs into lower price points. One was overthinking her marketing message.

Their intentions were honourable, but they weren’t getting the results they wanted, and for good reason. Trying too hard interrupts your flow. It hangs up your thinking and twists you into a ball of anxiety.

Learning takes time
It’s beyond frustrating when you try to master something that looks like it should be easy. When your initial efforts are met with unabashed defiance, you wonder what could possibly be wrong with you, particularly when other people seem to be doing the very same thing with little or no effort.

But they had to learn it, too. If you want to get good at something, you have to work at it. You have to practice. And you are required to make mistakes.

(You could say mistakes are a natural part of the process, but if mistakes are a prerequisite, your pride will take less of a beating and you’ll be less likely to quit.)

Give quality work the respect it deserves
Trying to dumb down good design is as bad as trying to copy it. You end up with a pale imitation of the original. The balance is off, the shapes are wrong, and there’s an unmistakable sense that something’s missing. It’s like the cheap knock-off gowns that appear every year after the Academy Awards. Yes, you can have the fabulous dress that Penelope Cruz wore! Except the cheap version usually ends up looking like an okay-ish prom gown.

You’d be better off going to the local vintage clothing store. At least you get a dress that still has its original character.

You could drop the price on an original piece, but that sends its own unfortunate message. Quality buyers get suspicious when they see a price that’s too low. What’s wrong with it? Substandard materials? Poor production?

The price has to be in proper alignment with the quality of the piece and the person who makes it.

That advice is hard to take. You need to earn a living. But pricing creative work is like dating—the scent of desperation is only attractive to vampires.

Selling creative work is also like dating—if you don’t see good prospects, you’re in the wrong place. Move on.

Use your head, but trust your instincts
When you know who your ideal customer is, you have a strong sense of how they think—what delights them, what bugs them, and what they really, really want. All the marketing books in the world can’t replace that kind of understanding.

What they really, really want is a function of emotion. They feel good when they buy directly from you. It’s cool—you’re cool. Your work makes them feel sophisticated. It makes them feel special. There are theories to explain the emotion and techniques to help you enhance that feeling, but sometimes the complicated logistics get in the way. Sometimes it’s best to just be human—to exercise empathy and meet your customer where they are, instead of trying to pull them to you.

So let’s take those three experiences and combine them to craft a basic marketing plan.

Marketing 101 revisited—the creative version

• Make excellent work. (Practice. Learn new things. Practice some more.)
• Don’t sell yourself short—price your work properly.
• Sell in the right places.
• Sell to the right people.
• Don’t overthink it. People are emotional creatures. Let your creativity and empathy help guide you.

Wanting to get it right drives you to do better, but it doesn’t matter whether you’re trying to learn something or get your message out—pushing too hard drives you crazy.

You might think marketing is just another skill, like learning to roller skate, but that’s not true. Marketing is a multi-faceted activity. So much of you is wrapped up in your work, you can’t separate yourself from your marketing. And you shouldn’t, because you is what helps sell your work. Marketing isn’t just a matter of following a recipe. It’s an organic process. If you approach it that way, it feels more natural, and more like a part of your creative process.

Just remember: don’t try too hard.

Over to you: What happens when you try too hard? More importantly, what happens when you step back, relax, and let things unfold?

Related posts:

1. The wisdom of failure
2. The power of commitment
3. Forget the textbook stuff – marketing is cool.

I’m acquainted with a professional artisan who does no advertising. She doesn’t have a blog, a Facebook fan page, Etsy shop or Twitter account. She has studio staff and has grown a successful small business.

Want to know her secret?

She does everything deliberately.

The proof is right in front of you
Encounter her at a show and it’s obvious—her work is beautifully designed and expertly executed. Her booth is elegant, well-lit, and professional. There are no stools or chairs in the booth—no one lounges around eating a sandwich or reading a newspaper. Price tags are visible, but unobtrusive. Her carefully-chosen packaging works perfectly with her business cards, her display, and her product.

There’s no hard sell. As a customer, you’re greeted with a relaxed smile. If you need a special order, there’s no hemming or hawing—you’re told how long the order will take, and it will be delivered on time.

You get executive class treatment.

No one has to tell you it’s executive class. The proof is right in front of you. In fact, if that message was presented to you literally, it would take away from your experience.

Your reputation is your brand
This artisan makes beautiful, high-quality work and provides excellent customer service. The feeling you get when you walk into her booth, the visual appeal of her work, the feel of it in your hands, the way she interacts with you—all these elements have helped her establish an excellent reputation.

The total experience she gives her customers establishes that reputation—in other words, it builds her brand.

I’ve had the opportunity to talk with her about how she started out. She approached her business with unflinching intention. She got good training. She knew what she wanted to do, and was sure enough of what she was creating, both in her art and her professional practice, to confidently ignore some pointed advice from a mentor. She learned how to present her work in its best light and how to keep her customers happy.

She goes to the right venues. She knows not every show is a good show. She takes the time to find out which shows are good for her, and which ones to avoid.

She treats her customers the way she expects to be treated, and her standards are high.

Yes, you can
You may have noticed I haven’t identified the artisan by name or medium. There are two reasons for this: first, she’s a private person and I don’t have her permission to say who she is, so I’m not telling. Second, and more important, identifying her medium opens the door for yes-buts. Yes, but everybody likes… yes, but the price is…

Nope.

I know people doing different kinds of work who are equally successful. Medium is not relevant to this discussion.

Set your intention
The biggest takeaway I can give you is this: there is absolutely no sense of hesitation. Everything is done with purpose. Everything. Design, execution, display, packaging, public interaction, even communication with staff. The intention behind every business decision does not waver, and it’s obvious.

You can achieve the same results in a way that aligns with your own work. If you’re eco-conscious and have no budget, you can make packaging out of newspapers and twine. You don’t apologetically or hastily crunch it around your work—you fold it beautifully to create packaging that will delight your customer.

You decide you want something special, and you figure out how to do it. You give that to your audience. You figure out a way you can afford to do it in terms of both materials and time (and you price everything properly). You don’t fret and say, “I can’t possibly…” and list a dozen reasons why you will fail—you say, “I’m going to learn how to make this work.”

You set your intention, you maintain your purpose, you follow through. People notice. You build your brand.

Over to you: does this case study change the way you think about a brand? Where do you look for examples of creatives who really set the bar?

Related posts:

1. A branding case study and a virtual field trip, part 2
2. A branding case study and a virtual field trip, part 1
3. A little Christmas shopping insight

When you run your own professional creative practice, you sometimes find yourself overwhelmed. There seems to be a thousand things to do, and only a few people to do it. Maybe you are the people.

The obvious way to set priorities is to take care of the most time-sensitive things first so you don’t miss any deadlines. But what happens after that?

If you’re someone who enjoys being organized, you’re reading this with your finger already poised over your mouse, while your mental To Do list is writing itself. No need to read further.

If you’re an intuitive type, you’re probably praying for an easy, magic solution.

Yeah, well.

Weave your way through the priorities list
Sometimes you just have to go with what your bones tell you is right. You could put on some music, get busy with the bookkeeping, and relax into the groove. Nine times out of ten that will work. But the tenth time, if you’re just can’t get into it, it’s not going to happen.

Don’t beat yourself up about it.

Something in that pile of stuff will be a logical starting place. Maybe it’s the smallest thing. Maybe it’s the most enjoyable thing. Some productivity coaches will tell you to leave the fun until the end, as a reward, but that means the rest feels like punishment.

You might get more momentum out of the energy you generate by doing something you enjoy.

From setting priorities to sorting ideas
You won’t feel any less overwhelmed if you’re working on new ideas and can’t decide which one to tackle first. You can do a careful, cost/benefit analysis, or you can kick it old school—way old school.

Let’s say you have five potential projects. Write down each idea on a slip of paper and draw one out of a hat. If you pick #4 and immediately think, “No! I wanted to do #2!” that’s the idea to follow.

It’s an easy, low tech method, and it’s very telling. Your bones know things your brain hasn’t figured out yet.

You could be less literal and ask yourself which idea you would pick if you only had enough time to implement one of them. A sense of urgency does wonders for one’s decision making process.

The pile of ideas might be hiding something
You may come to the uncomfortable realization that you have a head full of ideas because you’re nervous the one you’re most committed to won’t work.

Circle back around. You’ve gone into protector mode to keep your best ideas from getting damaged. The stakes just went up, so now you’re uneasy. But if the idea wasn’t good, you could throw it away without a second thought. That’s the one you feel in your bones. That’s the one you pick. No hats are necessary, no lists required.

Priorities and ideas—the bottom line
One way or another, the work has to be done. You get to choose the approach. You can make a list and stick to it with laser-like precision, or back off a little, stop overthinking it, and let the ideas pick you.

What’s your favourite way to set priorities or sort through ideas?

Need to brainstorm your marketing or creative business plans? The Studio Source can help. Click here for details.

Related posts:

1. Conjure up your inner motivator
2. The ins and outs of your first impression (part 1 – work in)

Sunday, 7:00 p.m. A post needs to be written for Monday morning. It’s not happening.

“Forget it,” I say, “I’m going to welding school.”

“Okay,” the fella replies, in that unmistakable tone. He’s humouring me.

Truth be told, I didn’t use the word “forget.” I used another word, one I don’t throw around in polite company.

I couldn’t do it. The well was dry. I was convinced if I tried to utter one more syllable about marketing, or creativity, I would implode.

Here’s the thing—I have perfectionist tendencies and a long-standing hangover from a sadly misguided Protestant work ethic. My art school roommate used to joke with me about it. I could never relax—an affliction unknown to him—so I’d pretend to razz him about being lazy, and he’d reply, “That’s right,” with a big, cheese-eating grin.

Things haven’t changed much. He still knows how to relax, and I still don’t.

The work ethic has evolved into something more sensible, but it still hangs me up. I feel a huge responsibility to my readers (that would be you) to deliver valuable information. There’s a lot of noise out there. I don’t want to add to it. I don’t want to be a make-believe, self-appointed guru. I want to help people for real.

You would be amazed at how fast that kind of self-inflicted pressure can throw you into a seething pit of self-doubt.

Then again, maybe you wouldn’t.

I’ll bet my last dime you’ve been there at least once. You ask yourself, “Is this good enough?” and a voice rises up like a recurring nightmare, laughs at what you’ve just created, and snorts, “No!”

When that happens, all you want to do is raise the white flag, gather your wounded, and get the hell off the battlefield as fast as you can.

But before you declare your surrender, there’s something you need to know. The voice isn’t yours. And it’s lying to you.

“Is this good enough?” is a worthwhile question. It means you care about what you send into the world. It means you’re not so deluded that you think everything you create is perfect and wonderful. It keeps you from becoming complacent.

If something needs a little more polish, or even a major rework, fair enough. A sense of responsibility to your audience, a sense of integrity, pushes you to be better. A chronic, knee-jerk, all-encompassing negative response will make you crazy. That goes beyond self-doubt and into full-blown self-sabotage. You can’t make anything good when you’re being crushed under that weight.

You need to know where your self-doubt comes from, and you need to shut it down.

You don’t require a PhD in psychology to figure it out. Somewhere along the line, maybe when you were a kid, you got it into your head you couldn’t. That’s not an accidental grammatical error, that’s how it feels when you fall into serious self-doubt. You can’t. Period.

Something happened to make you internalize someone’s criticism. When you were little, you didn’t have the experience, or the vocabulary, to understand how the world works. When someone criticized you in adult terms instead of talking to you at your level of understanding, you weren’t able to reason it out. Adults were powerful. Adults knew everything. So you decided you were wrong.

Maybe it happened later in life. Someone you admired stomped all over you. And you absorbed it.

You might not even be aware of how it seeped into your consciousness. But now you carry it around, a toxic load of criticism and negativity, waiting like a virus to jump on you when your defenses are down.

It might happen when you’re about to send work to a jury, or bidding on a job. It might rear its ugly head when you’re developing new work, or crafting promotional copy.

One negative comment from one person could trigger it.

Or it might just show up when you’re overtired, or when you’ve been working too hard, and all you’re trying to do is something you’ve been doing consistently for months, or even years.

Pull back the curtain and see self-doubt for what it is—an imposter. A boogeyman who should have been retired long ago.

If you learned the skills and executed something that was good, you have proof you can do it. If you’re starting out, you’re not supposed to be a master. Mastery takes time and practice. The “no good” message is a habit so deeply ingrained in your thought patterns it’s automatic.

Self-doubt a short circuit. When you stop the automatic response and change the habit, you fix the wiring.

Skills improve. Techniques evolve. We mature as artists and as people. We all make mistakes. That doesn’t mean you’re no good—it means you have more to learn. We all have more to learn. There will always be room for something better.

The next time self-doubt comes calling, force it to state its case. Demand proof. Require it to justify its position. When you turn it back on itself—when you look it in the eye and hold your ground—it crumbles.

Over to you—what’s the most effective way you’ve found to fend off self-doubt?  What, or who, helps you through?

No related posts.

Editor’s note: it’s Friday. I’ve been slaving over a writing project and my brain cells are down to triple digits. I’m tired of the sound of my own voice, so this post is (mostly) just for fun.

Ah, Valentine’s Day. A day for romance. A a day for flower shops, card sellers and chocolatiers.

If you’re single, or just not into the hearts and flowers, you’ll be just as glad when it’s over.

Wait. There’s an antidote.

In 1996 I invented a feast day for me and my female friends who aren’t into the fluff and forced romance of Valentine’s Day. I picked February 13, and I named it Valenschtunken. Pronounce it “valenschtoonken.” Say it with gusto. This is how it goes:

We will eat beans

We will drink beer

We will sing Viking songs.

We don’t actually do the beans, beer, or sing at the top of our lungs around a roaring fire. The feast is virtual. It’s an email message that goes to a small but growing group every February 13. We’ve become an informal, not-so-secret club that revels in turning an idea on its head.

I have nothing against Valentine’s Day; it’s just not my thing. When I invented Valenschtunken, I was recovering from a Very Big Mistake, and was not in the mood to hear about romance. I’ve been happily shacked up for years since then, but I’m still not into the whole Valentine’s Day thing. Valenschtunken is more fun. (I live in fear that my allegedly made-up word is some form of a real word and I’ve offended someone, but so far that hasn’t happened.)

Grab the lemons and make lemonade
When marketers focus on a demographic, there’s an opportunity. When they focus on a huge chunk of the population, there will be people who feel left out in a big way. That creates an opening for gutsy, contrarian, and creative ideas. You don’t have to come out swinging—Valenschtunken isn’t anti-Vday, it’s a fun alternative.

Thumbing your nose at a way of thinking and creating something in protest has sparked some brilliant art and music. The status quo provides endless opportunities for innovation. It gives you leverage. You can stick your tongue out at it, pull out your big box of crayons, and have some fun.

So if you’d rather have a bouquet of spring rolls instead of roses, this one’s for you. Happy Valenschtunken.

Over to you: What do you like to do in the middle of February? What product or service do you love that steps out of the mainstream? What idea would you like to turn on its head?

No related posts.

Recently I saw some catalogue copy written by an artist. The work in question was described as “distinctively unique.”

If that didn’t make you do a double take, go look up “distinctive” in a thesaurus.

You got it. “Distinctively distinctive.” Or if you prefer, “Uniquely unique.”

Not good.

The rest of the copy was effusive. At first glance, it seemed to describe the most extraordinary objects you’d ever see. Unfortunately, it also contained spelling errors, and some words were capitalized that weren’t proper nouns.

Those kinds of mistakes can hurt your credibility, particularly if you say you pay close attention to detail.

Be clear and accurate
When you write promotional copy, make sure you fully understand the words you’re using. Otherwise, you can end up with an embarrassing redundancy, or worse, completely misuse a word or phrase. Fluffing your copy is dangerous.

If you’re not sure of the meaning of a word, use a dictionary, preferably with a thesaurus included. If you don’t have one somewhere on your computer, they’re available online for free.

Better yet, quit fluffing.

The work in our example didn’t live up to its promises. Imagine how a prospective buyer reacts when that happens.

Stick to the facts
Stressing over marketing copy is a common affliction among artists. You feel self-conscious. Catalogue copy is the worst—there’s usually a word limit, so you want to make a big impact with those few words. You panic and try to pretty it up.

Not only does that waste your valuable catalogue space, but you tell your prospective buyer what to think. Be careful. One person’s “cute” is another’s curled lip.

You can talk about your earthy palette. Or that your work is deeply textured. Or minimalist. But do you really need to say it’s beautiful? Will people assume your work is ugly if you don’t?

And why say you’re unique? You’re an artist, not a copy machine.

You don’t have to have a Pulitzer Prize to write eloquently about your work. Pretend you’re explaining it to someone wearing a blindfold. If you can’t let go of “unique,” look it up in the dictionary. See if your perception of the word matches its meaning. Switch to a thesaurus to help you find a word that’s not so overused.

A dictionary is one of the most valuable resources in your marketing toolbox. It can save you a lot of time and writing headaches.

Do you have trouble writing about what you do? What are some of the best—or worst—examples of catalogue descriptions you’ve seen?

Related posts:

1. Perfectionism, pirates, and a free marketing class
2. Find your Unique Selling Proposition without really trying
3. Lessons learned in art school

What do you do in a slump?

If you make work that relies on the sales cycle that peaks in mid-December, you’ve likely got some time on your hands right now. What are you doing with it?

Seeing your income drop is scary business, even if it’s a seasonal lull. Somewhere in the back of your mind, nestled in the midst of recession headlines, you wonder if maybe this time sales won’t rebound like they used to.

The economy goes up, the economy goes down. All of this has happened before, and all of this will happen again.

You could worry.

Or you could plan.

You can do both, and chances are you will, but focus on the planning part. Don’t just hang on and wait for the slump to pass—make the most of your down time to build on what you already have.

Raise your profile
If you didn’t take a good look at your website at the start of the year, do it now. What can you do to make it better? How can you use it to interact with your audience more?

Use the opportunity to find a new blog or two to comment on. Scour social media outlets for new people to connect with.

If people are spending less today, don’t pull back on your marketing. Use every free or low-cost tool that works for you to get—and stay— in their consciousness. They’ll be more likely to remember you tomorrow.

Get Creative
If you’re busy selling, you don’t have time to make new work. Harness the stress and use the down time well. How many of us experience a surge of creativity that is directly proportionate to the amount of angst in our psyche? There’s no point in wasting a good bout of Sturm und Drang—put it to work for you.

You don’t have to make something to sell. You don’t even have to show it to anybody. Take every ounce of frustration and fear and pour it into something you do for yourself. Don’t second guess or edit, just give yourself over to the process. Allow yourself some unselfconscious freedom and see where it takes you.

Get out of your own way
You’re not the only one who struggles with worry when there’s down time. If you’re stuck in a rut, do something for somebody else to help you get out of your own head. It doesn’t have to be monumental, just earn a few Boy Scout points. Clear some dust-collecting books off your shelf and donate them to the library. Clean out your closet—it does wonders for clearing your head. Give the clothes you never wear to goodwill. Take somebody’s dog for a walk.

Invite some friends over for coffee. Better yet, see if you can round up a few guitars and maybe a harmonica. Have a campfire night with or without the fire.

If all else fails, go to Plan B
If you feel like your back is really against the wall, think about how you can raise some quick cash. Maybe you have a seconds sale. Maybe you move out some old inventory. You could look into picking up some freelance or contract work, or do some tutoring.

You don’t want to become one of those people who complains for the sake of complaining. It’s not good for the creative brain. You don’t want to become paralyzed, either. Time is a gift. Use it well.

Over to you: What’s your best advice on coping with down time? How do you deal with a slump? Do you get stuck? Or do you fight your way through?

Related posts:

1. Beware the business guru
2. The ins and outs of your first impression (part 1 – work in)
3. The big problem with marketing