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?
Possibly related posts:
So this doesn’t have to do with my work, but I notice this problem the most when I play drums in rockband. I can do it if I get into the flow–but the minute I try to think about the individual notes, notice I’m doing well, or worry about my score it all goes to hell. When I play for fun or for the experience of it things go much better.
So there you go–life lesson from rockband.
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Stacey Cornelius Reply:
February 25th, 2010 at 10:34 am
It’s funny how feeling the slightest bit self-conscious can send you right into the ditch.
Life lesson from rockband. I like it.
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Catherine Caine Reply:
February 25th, 2010 at 8:00 pm
When you’re drumming with any speed, you have to rely on muscle memory to be fast enough. Conscious thought is waaaaay slower and more awkward.
Does that kill the analogy? My brain has fallen out.
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Stacey Cornelius Reply:
February 25th, 2010 at 9:04 pm
You’re making perfect sense, Catherine, so we’re on the same wavelength at least.
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Maureen Carruthers Reply:
February 26th, 2010 at 9:06 am
Actually that’s really helpful. I didn’t understand why sometimes I could do it and sometimes I couldn’t. I guess that’s why practice works. Now I will stop derailing Stacey’s thread with my rockband therapy session
Get out of my head will ya?
I was pondering this exact thing yesterday, and noticing how when I force things, I only make myself more neurotic, broke and miserable. Yet when I let things unfold, money, opportunities and just generally wonderful things come my way.
Yet I still force, push and generally try too hard.
Maybe one day I’ll get it. I might have to reread this post a few more times to get there though.
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Stacey Cornelius Reply:
February 25th, 2010 at 12:51 pm
Sarah, it gets in my head, too, otherwise I couldn’t describe it so well.
It’s kind of like that old joke about getting to Carnegie Hall: practice, practice, practice. We’ll get there eventually.
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When I force it, it certainly never goes quite right, and when I let it flow, it never goes as fast as I want. Ultimately, though, getting it right is much better than getting it fast.
I’m a product of the “Gotta Have It Now” generation, but I’m fighting vehemently against it.
Maureen, you hit the nail on the head. I’m a musician and when I’m performing, the more I think about it, the worse I play!
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Stacey Cornelius Reply:
February 25th, 2010 at 1:00 pm
Hmm, Tyler, you might try to channel an old-school artisan. Respect the process–it takes as long as it takes.
It doesn’t much matter about the generation, either. A lot of us feel the lure of instant everything. But what goes with that is disposable thinking, and what drives both of those things is uncontrolled consumerism. Great for those who promote it, but not so good for the rest of us.
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My version of trying too hard is when I have a great idea and put a bunch of pressure on myself to get all the steps done at once so I can launch it “instantly”.
The idea of an unfolding, organic, natural process of sharing it feels like a really good antidote to this.
Thanks Stacey!
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Stacey Cornelius Reply:
February 25th, 2010 at 5:28 pm
We’re so well-conditioned as consumers–we don’t think about how things are made. Sometimes we don’t think about that process even when we’re the ones doing the making.
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Great post!
I’d add:
Stop worrying about the outcome. Just focus on doing the process right (the other 5 steps in the box), and the outcome will happen naturally.
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Stacey Cornelius Reply:
February 25th, 2010 at 9:03 pm
Control freak creatives always worry about the outcome! But you know the result won’t be what you saw in your head, it never is. Thanks, Iain.
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Gosh this sounds a lot like the way I’ve been feeling this week! Got to remember that the only one responsible for pushing me too hard – is me!
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Stacey Cornelius Reply:
February 25th, 2010 at 9:05 pm
It’s hard to fire that pushy boss when you *are* the pushy boss. But you can have some interesting arguments. Maybe we all need to make a pact to be a little nicer to ourselves. No less committed, but nicer.
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Sherice Jacob Reply:
February 26th, 2010 at 9:41 pm
My(self) pushy boss rewards me every once in awhile with a large raspberry mocha, so I forgive her
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Maureen’s rock band analogy is perfect. It’s the same when I take pictures. If I try to force it or over-think it, the pictures are always ho-hum. If I relax and respond to the environment, I get pictures I like, which is always my goal. If I don’t like them, I can’t expect other people to (although they sometimes do).
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Stacey Cornelius Reply:
February 26th, 2010 at 3:07 pm
It’s funny how those forced moments reveal themselves, Sally. Since it’s so obvious, you’d think we would learn not to push, but we get bossy with our work and have to re-learn that lesson all over again.
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Thank you Stacey. Working on “right places” and “right people” and putting all of the details together. It is overwhelming at times and those times are my least productive (creatively or business wise). So I take a break and then come back, take a baby step and move forward.
I love creating and actually enjoy the marketing side too. Thanks again, looking forward to more posts. I’ll be retweeting @scottstafstrom
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Stacey Cornelius Reply:
February 26th, 2010 at 3:09 pm
Baby steps are good. It’s smart to switch tasks when you’re feeling overwhelmed, too. Thanks, Scott, and welcome.
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