I want to get the words, “There’s no such thing as everybody” printed on a t-shirt. I’ve been thinking lately about the alleged necessity to sell online. Some creatives are doing it and getting great results. Others, not so much. And there are plenty more who haven’t yet jumped on board.
I’m not much into bandwagons or one-size-fits-all thinking. Not with t-shirts, and definitely not in business.
Here’s a little anecdote: recently I had a conversation with a couple of women about online shopping. Specifically, artisan-made jewellery. They were both 40-ish, and neither was too thrilled with the idea of buying jewellery online.
A 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.
Let’s go to dinner. My treat. You’ll love the restaurant and get something unexpected to take home with you.
Our maĂ®tre ‘d is gracious and welcoming. We immediately feel like honoured guests as he seats us at a softly lit table with a pristine white tablecloth and sparkling silverware.
The room is filled with quiet conversation and easy laughter that weaves its way through the mellow sound of the gleaming baby grand piano in the corner. We settle in and ready ourselves for what’s to come.
The chef has prepared our menu.
A little while ago I had a conversation with life and creativity coach Dawn Kotzer. I like Dawn. She lives farther out in the woods than I do, appreciates the power of metaphor, and knows her stuff, inside and out—particularly the inside part.
We were talking about being stretched too thin and what that does to your psyche and professional life when she posed a slightly terrifying question:
“What if you did nothing at all?”
Once upon a time, a long time ago, I had a job interview. It was a technical writing gig. I can’t recall the name of the company.
My throat tightened the minute I saw the sea of cubicles. I got downright jumpy when I met with the interviewers. There were two of them and me, in a small room. I suspected they were recent university graduates, and it quickly became clear they were both big fans of pre-programmed conversations.
They asked a few perfunctory questions, then started on the hypothetical quiz section. How did I feel about office politics? Could I give examples? How did I feel about the situation I encountered?
