How to turn frustration into an opportunity
May 11, 2010A craftsperson once told me a story about a couple who remarked how much fun her work must be. She replied, “Well it would be if someone actually bought something!”
The craftsperson was having a bad day.
The nice people went away.
There’s a school of thought that seems to suggest if you do something you’re passionate about, it must be all kinds of fun, all the time.
You know better.
There are days when you get a little frustrated. And there are those days when you want to throw in the towel, snap your paintbrush in two, pitch your computer out the window, or strike the word “creative” from the collective vocabulary until the end of time.
Okay, maybe that last one is just me. But whatever your frustrations are, they’re best expressed with discretion.
Listen carefully to bridge the gap
When you encounter someone who sees creative pursuits as fun, it might be because she considers your work a hobby. That person might be a lost cause. But it’s possible “work” in her world is something decidedly not fun. It doesn’t occur to her that artists, designers, writers and other creatives work as hard as anyone else.
She might think that way because she needs to believe it’s true. She needs to believe there’s something better that what she’s currently stuck with, and on that particular day, her “something better” is you.
So what do you do with that?
Our craftsperson could have said something like, “It’s not fun all the time. I have to do a lot of production, and that’s hard work. But as far as jobs go, this one is pretty great. What kind of work do you do?”
People like it when you show interest in them. Once you create a little rapport, you can steer the conversation back to what you have for sale.
At the very least, you can help one more person understand what you do for a living.
Watch for emotion and enhance the experience
Or you could follow those words to their source. When someone responds to your work, what she says simply reflects how she feels about it. “Doing this must be so much fun!” is pure emotion. It’s a mighty good feeling, too.
You can take that sentiment and turn it into an experience your potential customer wants to take home with her. You can chat with her a little, giving her a glimpse into your creative practice. That could be enough for her to decide she’d like to buy something.
If she doesn’t buy, she still leaves with a good impression of you and an interesting story to tell her friends—you did remember to tell her something interesting, yes? She might come back or one of her friends might come looking for you.
Get out of your own head and pay attention. If you do it right, what starts as a frustrating comment can end with a sale.
Share your opinion
What’s the best comment you ever got from a customer? What’s the worst comment you’ve ever heard? Have you ever turned a strange encounter into a great selling opportunity?
[...] This post was mentioned on Twitter by Stacey Cornelius. Stacey Cornelius said: How to turn frustration into an opportunity: http://bit.ly/9xeuF6 [...]
Best comment: Tears of emotion and extra tips.
Worst comment: Underpricing.
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Stacey Cornelius Reply:
May 12th, 2010 at 9:35 am
Pricing has to be one of the most frustrating issues for creatives across the board. I hear about that one all the time.
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I used to live in a charming seaside town in a Victorian house on a large property with beautiful gardens. I’ll never forget the day a woman said to me, “I think I’ll do this when I retire”. All she saw was the illusion and the surface. I wanted to reply and think I might have,”This is my life not a fantasy”. She wasn’t aware of the effort it took to care for the gardens not to mention my two young children, husband as well as a dog that needed daily walking. And, of course, the art didn’t just make itself.
Another time a friend who was a high school french teacher whined to me that my life must be so easy. She had no idea of the pressures we artists put on ourselves or the self-imposed deadlines. And, every time we have a show (I speak as a painter) we set ourselves up for criticism and rejection. I find I vacillate from thinking the work is brilliant to thinking it’s all just shit.
As to pricing-well, I just sold a painting to a woman for a very good price, too good perhaps especially for this particular painting. But I rationalized that I was selling it directly without having to give a gallery a percentage and ending up with more than I would pocket had I had to share the money. Did I undervalue it? I don’t know. Bottom line is, I need the money and am happy that the work will be in the home of someone who loves it.
Pricing is definitely a bitch. When one has little money it’s hard to imagine that anyone could have a couple thousand or more dollars to spend on art.
Well, that feels better…..
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Stacey Cornelius Reply:
May 14th, 2010 at 11:12 am
Lynn, I hear you on all counts. I had a conversation with someone just last week whose partner is a teacher. She was on split shifts this year, and when he described her workload and overtime, I shook my head and remarked how some people think teachers have an easy life because the school year isn’t 52 weeks long.
Taking a minute to step into someone else’s shoes is a real eye-opener, whether it’s to understand how hard someone else works or wrap your head around someone having the money to buy what you create without hesitation.
Thanks for the thoughtful comment.
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I’ve become interested in how the language we use reflects and *constructs* our mindset. So the (excellent) comment about pricing caught my attention.
When I read a “good price” I thought “excellent, good for you!” But the “good price” was from an empathic perspective — it was a good price for the buyer, but a low price for the seller (I infer). But that means that our brains, when we invert “good,” hears “bad.” And that means when we think about getting the price we want, or a higher price, in the moment of negotiation, our brain is in the habit of thinking “bad.” Not good for sales!
Here’s the intentional exercise I do to try and keep myself tuned into my own language. I call it “The Default Answer.” When you ask a question, or someone asks you a question, ask yourself, “What is the default answer?” In other words, what is the answer you (or they) want to hear?
Example: Someone calls on the phone. They say,”Are you busy?” You say, “No.” That’s what they wanted to hear, since they called you…. But what if they asked, “Is this a good time to talk?” You’d say, “Yes.”
We’re now into long-winded comment territory, but think about the difference in mindset of someone who, all day, asks questions where they want to hear No for an answer, vs. someone who is always asking questions where they want to hear Yes. Think about, say, living with someone who usually asks you questions where you are required to say No in order to offer an affirmative response. E.g. “Do you care if I play music?” vs. “I was thinking of playing some music, okay with you?”
So, back to empathic artists and pricing…. Since I’m all about co-creation, perhaps try co-confering the value. When a client asks what it costs, try this: “Well, the materials only cost about $50, but I put about a week of full-time effort into actually painting it, plus about three weeks of obsessive thinking and sketching and drafts. If I really valued it at top-dollar that’s probably $15K or $20K — but you probably weren’t expecting to pay that much, and I’ve certainly sold plenty of work for less, so what do you think? How have you valued other art you’ve purchased? How do you think about this?”
Then you can attempt to engage them in a higher-level conversation, and get back to the specifics of the dollar in a few minutes. In that conversation, try to form questions that require them to say Yes, or at least answer in an affirmative sense. Habituate them to say Yes, and you’ll have an easier time when when you circle back around to the price of the specific work. After all, for most art buyers (and corporate design / web / tech buyers) the difference between, say, $2,500 and $4,500 is probably not significant, but it usually is for the artist or consultant.
Super-crazy long comment, sorry! But, in summary, it’s good to train our brains to think of “a good price” as something that pays the mortgage for a year, where simultaneously the buyer feels like they’re paying a great price to a cool person, and both leave overjoyed at the co-conferred value.
(First-time comment here, but enjoy your Twitter stream!)
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Stacey Cornelius Reply:
May 16th, 2010 at 11:45 am
Flipping the question to “Okay with you?” gives the person you’re asking the sense that you respect their space and their wishes. Engaging a potential customer in a way that involves them fully is a great way to break out of the robotic” I sell you buy, end of story” mindset. Great comment, MIchael.
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Thanks for your comments Michael J.
I realized on rereading what I wrote that I wasn’t very clear about the “good price”. Guess I should have said that I sold the painting for lower than the asking price.
There’s always that fear that the potential customer will find the price of the work too high so I tend, if I’m selling it myself and not through a gallery, to say that I offer payment plans and that the price is negotiable. I must learn to be a better business person or else find a champion who will do it for me.
Thanks for your suggestion. I’ll try, instead of being apologetic about pricing or offering deals before the customer even asks (although I don’t always), to use your technique for engaging them in a different kind of discussion.
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Stacey Cornelius Reply:
May 16th, 2010 at 11:56 am
Nothing wrong with a payment plan, Lynn, as long as you don’t undervalue your work. There are lots of people who would love to own a fantastic piece of art but can’t drop the cash all at once (we shouldn’t assume everyone has a credit card, or wants to use one for anything other than emergency home or car repairs). If you can make the purchase work with your customer’s cash flow, you don’t need to negotiate a lower price.
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Stacey – This was a great entry and I’d like to thank Michael for his comment too. Ending on a question is an old sales trick and it makes it nearly impossible for the customer not to engage and think things through. And his sample question was very tactful and pleasant – and still got the point across.
I’m doing a series called “Beaders: Seven Deadly Sins” and inspired by the book, “Art and Fear,” I was about to start a piece on the difference between stopping (to rethink) and quitting. Quitting, I think, can occur when sales slump or one too many people asks why the price is “high” etc. – Lulls are a little deadly and certainly do not endear customers (who are looking but not buying) to you. It starts not being “fun” and you start wondering (at the worst of times) why you want to work so hard and feel miserable. This is a great reminder that, no matter how much you like your work – it’s a business and comes with slumps and problems. Reassessing is appropriate but quitting isn’t.
Thanks a million for this piece! I will link to your blog when I finish the next “sin”….
Love reading your stuff!
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Stacey Cornelius Reply:
May 16th, 2010 at 11:49 am
Thanks, Linda. Reassessing is an important part of business. You can’t learn much if you don’t take time to think about what’s working and what isn’t, and it’s hard to keep going if you never give yourself time to breathe. I think too many people approach business as a ’round the clock endeavour – which is an ideal recipe for burnout.
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