To speak out or not to speak out
Yesterday The Studio Source went dark as part of the protest against SOPA and PIPA anti-piracy legislation in the United States.

I almost didn’t participate.

 A couple of online friends asked if I’d be part of the strike. I’d already scanned an article on how to make the adjustments to my site, saw a bit of code, and moved on.

“I can’t do much but be in the cheering section,” I said, “but I’m watching developments. It will affect Canadians, too.”

It seemed like a reasonable response. But it wasn’t the truth.

When a reasonable response is anything but
This is what was running in the background:

“I’m working on one site that’s driving me crazy, I’m not going to muck around with code on one I can’t afford to break. Besides, I can’t vote on either bill.”

“I don’t have a huge readership. What difference would it make?”

“No one gives a damn what I think.”

Cue the sound of screeching tires.

The monster on your shoulder
The insecure knee-jerk happens from time to time; I’m sure it’s in the Universal Writer’s Handbook (if there was such a thing), right after the table of contents, and watermarked on every page.

Recognition came as quickly as the crashing white noise of self-doubt. The remedy was simple: shovel it up and spread it on the metaphorical rosebushes.

The deeper truth? That reaction had nothing to do with public political activism.



Denying your own voice

Creatives self-censor all the time. Not for the sake of good manners, but to fit into some imaginary idea of what’s acceptable when talking about their work-especially when they’re trying to sell it.

The aversion to being labelled a braggart or blowhard turns into dead-eyed blandness. The passion behind the creativity is squashed. Simple, strong words are whipped into a polysyllabic froth of half-understood jargon or meaningless catalogue-speak.

Sometimes you panic and don’t say anything at all. Emails aren’t sent, the phone remains untouched.

Sometimes denying your own voice goes way too far. The work—the song, the book, the painting—is never made.

Going public is a risk. So is remaining silent.

The middle ground is spongy. You poke your head up, but don’t say what you really mean. You settle for what you imagine people expect.

You try to make yourself small and say you’re being sensible.

Be bold, be smart
This is what I believe: that credit should be given where it’s due. That artists should be paid for their work. Piracy does damage, although if I’m being completely honest, I’m far less worried about the dented bottom lines of big movie studios than I am about independent artists.

I chose to join the SOPA strike because I think the legislation is poorly written. It doesn’t do enough to stop piracy and has the potential to do too much damage to legitimate (or just plain unwitting) users.

But mostly I spoke out because of the reek of censorship. That slope is too slippery. There are far too many artists, academics and journalists who have been intimidated, jailed, tortured or even murdered, to ignore the implications of SOPA and PIPA.

Some people won’t agree. Some won’t take the time to look past the headlines to try to understand the issue. Some will think any kind of activism has no place in business. And that’s okay.

Edit your message, don’t censor it
Whether I’m talking about marketing, mindset, method or missions in life or in business, I won’t self-censor. I will edit my message—weed out the words that don’t need to be there—to make it clearer and stronger.

I won’t call people names or beat anyone over the head with a virtual placard. There’s too much crazed shouting already, too many people basting their words in venom. I want to engage, not alienate, to spread ideas and help build revolutions.

The small amount of activism I do here is a conscious choice. I don’t take it lightly. Whether I talk about marketing or the mindset behind it, post a video to spark marketing ideas, or advocate change, my goal is always to enlighten and empower.

These are the things I believe in.

Do I get unnerved by any of it? Of course I do. Every time I hit Publish, there’s a small part of me that cringes. Will anyone read it? Will anyone care? Will what I say help someone move forward with his professional creative practice? Will it inspire someone to say yes to her talent and her potential?

There’s always a yes in there somewhere. Always.

The same is true for you. Say what you really want to say. Make your art.

About the author: Stacey Cornelius is a writer and professional butt-kicker. She helps empower artists, designers, writers and craftspeople to do their best work and show it to the world. The images she uses are through Flickr’s Creative Commons licensing. Want more marketing info? Sign up for her free, jargon-busting foundation marketing email class right here. Want to chat? Follow Stacey on Facebook.

Now that the holiday dust has settled…
Did you make any New Year’s resolutions?

Did you really want to make New Year’s resolutions?

I’m guessing you didn’t.

I’m guessing what you really want is for a bunch of things to happen for your business this year.

Say, for example, you want to finish your taxes done before the deadline, so you’re not in a panic.

Or you want to get more organized.

Or you have this vague notion about getting your marketing butt in gear. You know you need to do something, but you’re not sure where to begin.

Forget the resolutions.

Resolutions sound noble and courageous, but resolve is pointless if you don’t take action.

As in, right now.

Do one simple thing
Is the copyright notice on your website up to date?

Not yet?

Change it. Today.

That’s all you have to do.

Do one (more) simple thing
Since you’re there anyway, take a good look at your website—the virtual face of your creative business, the first thing anyone sees when they look you up online.

Is there an image that needs to be updated?

Just one.

Pick it.

Fix it.

One thing leads to another
Constraints can spark an extraordinary amount of action.

“But I can only change one image? There are three on that single page that need to go! This looks terrible! How did I let things go for so long?”

It doesn’t matter if you’ve let things slide, because that one simple thing just jumpstarted your marketing batteries.

All that matters is you’re ready to act. No lists needed, no lofty New Year’s resolutions to make, break, or feel badly about.

What’s your one thing?

What’s the one thing you can do right now to promote your creative business? To increase sales?

Name it, even if it scares you, because you’re not going to tackle a huge, complicated project all at once. You’re going to do one thing at a time.

What one thing can you do to promote your business this year?

What’s the one simple thing that will get you started?

Maybe it’s a phone call. Or an email.

Or maybe it’s as simple as changing the date on your copyright notice.

One thing.

Choose it.

Do it.

About the author: Stacey Cornelius is a writer and professional butt-kicker. She helps empower artists, designers, writers and craftspeople to do their best work and show it to the world. Sign up for her free, jargon-busting foundation marketing email class right here. For high speed inspiration, follow her on Twitter.

This is part two of a series dedicated to retail craft and art shows. Part one was about marketing, and how creatives can no longer depend on show organizers to connect with their customers. Today it’s about how one simple (and painfully common) mistake drives existing customers away.

Words you don’t ever want to hear

Dear exhibitor:

I spent nearly 10 minutes looking for a parking spot, then walked three stinking blocks in freezing drizzle. Then I see your vehicle parked less than 100 feet from the door (maybe next time you should take your decal off the window).

Then I get the unparalleled privilege of paying $7.50 for admission to the building, and to put the sprinkles on my soggy cupcake, when I finally find your booth, you don’t look up from the book you’re reading.

I can get better parking and deal with equally disinterested people at the mall.

Sincerely,
The customer who won’t be back

Do you really know where your customers are?
Customer traffic has dropped significantly at many retail craft shows and art fairs. Some of it has to do with poor marketing, some of it has to do with competition, but there’s another reason people walk away.

It also applies to high end shows and online selling.

The reason is multi-faceted, but very simple: the customer has been dropped from the equation.

You have to do more than put in an appearance
I once met a creative entrepreneur almost by accident. I say “by accident” because if I hadn’t recognized her business name, I would have walked right past her.

Her display was minimal. Rented pipe and drape, with a couple of shelf units sitting on one of the tables provided by the venue.

She told me a full booth would be very inconvenient for her to set up.

And that’s the problem.

Your customer’s experience isn’t about your convenience.

Being successful in business requires you focus on the person with the money in her hand.

Because without her, you’re done.

Walk a mile in a customer’s shoes
Picture this: from across the aisle you catch sight of a sea of black, with small, unidentifiable objects on display. The exhibitor is skulking at the very back of the booth like an unhappy bear in a den.

She’s not doing great business.

Bad for her, but it doesn’t hurt the show much. The overall impression of the show is one of quality, so you ignore her and carry on.

The slippery slope that kills a show
Now imagine: among several well-dressed booths there are a number with rented pipe and drape, and tables covered in plain cloth. You have to bend forward to see the items.

Some of those booths don’t have lighting.

How does that make you feel?

You encounter exhibitors sitting in standard height chairs. Some of them are seated across from each other, chatting at the entrance of the booth.

You don’t go in, because you feel like you’re interrupting dinner.

You’re not in a crafty-craft show with things made from kits and copied from magazines, these people are supposed to be professionals. At least, that’s what the show poster promised, and that’s the way the show used to be.

Selling is not about logic—it’s about people
Think about how you’re feeling now.

You’re the customer, looking for something special.

You hunted for a parking spot.

You paid to get in.

You were planning to spend an hour or two, enjoying the work as well as the atmosphere.

But you have to work harder and harder to see past ho-hum booths and surprisingly apathetic people.

Think about how you feel.

Do you want to be there?

Do you want to go back?

Join the crowd.

Want to be memorable? Bring it—all of it
Anyone who thinks making the work should be the end of their efforts undermine their own businesses and drag everyone else down with them. 

“Handmade” isn’t enough to attract customers anymore. With a site like Etsy boasting hundreds of thousands of sellers, handmade is no longer a rare and wonderful thing.

The rare and wonderful rise above the hacks and hobbyists, and savvy customers look for the cues.

They don’t have much patience when they feel let down.

The pros are serious about delighting customers
Anyone can throw a cloth on a table and sit on a lawn chair for three days. Or sign up for a Blogger account (which they then neglect), or set up an Etsy shop (complete with out-of-focus photographs).

Professionals take the extra step. They think about how customers see their entire business and create a remarkable experience, in person and online.

The pros know the magic is in the details.

They know customers rarely speak up, but will tell their friends about their disappointing buying experiences.

The professionals know a negative impression is incredibly difficult to erase.

Follow the right crowd
“What can I get away with?” is exactly the mindset that will drive away business. There are too many people following that crowd. Certain bloggers will encourage you to “fail fast” or just throw something out there and fix it later.

It sounds great, doesn’t it. Easy. No real commitment.

It’s sound advice when you’re making new work. Experimenting with creativity is part of the job.

But your customers rarely see that part of it. They’re not meant to.

Getting lazy when it comes to selling is a massive mistake.

No ifs, ands, or buts
You don’t need to spend thousands of dollars to display your work.

Your customers don’t expect you to be corporate-polished perfect.

They expect you to bring the Wow. To be interested, and fully present.

They have every right to.

About the author: Stacey Cornelius is a writer and artist who believes successful creative ventures run far deeper than snazzy sales pitches. She helps empower artists, designers, writers and craftspeople to do their best work and show it to the world. Sign up for her free, jargon-busting foundation marketing email class right here. For high-speed inspiration, follow Stacey on Twitter. 

Junk mail, hot off the virtual press
Picture this: you follow someone on Twitter. Shortly thereafter you are the lucky recipient of not one, but two direct messages (for non-tweeters, DMs are private messages, like email).

Both offer you something for FREE (emphasis by the sender). With nary so much as a how d’you do.

Here’s another scenario: you email an acquaintance and find yourself on not one, but four mailing lists. At the bottom of each email is a link you can click to join the list in question.

This isn’t good marketing.

This is junk mail.

It’s not the offer—it’s how you make it
Offering something for free doesn’t make it any better. It’s just as annoying as finding a flyer on the windshield of your car.

The reason it happens online is the same as in the real world: the senders are focused on the tools. How many of these can I send out, and how fast?

Great marketing isn’t about methodology, technology, or second class mail rates.

Great marketing is about people.

Where do marketing messages land?
When you send someone an email, there’s a person on the other end of your marketing message. Thanks to social media, you may know what she looks like, where she works, her birthday, and even the name of her cat.

You might know where her computer is—her office, studio, maybe her bedroom.

And on any given day, that’s all you really know.

You can’t be sure about the contents of her In box, how many unsolicited messages have found their way past spam filters, or how many telemarketers have found loopholes in the Do Not Call list.

One thing you can be sure of: she has a life, and you’re trying to be a small part of it.

Acknowledge the individual
It’s up to you to treat that potential (or existing) customer with respect. Respect for her privacy, her intelligence, and her very good taste (she’s buying from you, isn’t she?).

And since she has good taste, she will have little patience for poorly crafted, impersonal messages. She will, however, take notice of something that speaks to her, that’s created with care.

Maybe it’s elegance she wants, maybe it’s something fun and imaginative.

You use the tools at your disposal to create, and then send, your message.

The connection is made with the individual, not her In box.

Look your customer in the eye in 140 characters
The Twitter blunder is easily avoided.

“Thought you might like this—it’s solid info & it’s free…”

Add a shortened link and it’s still only about 65 characters. Plenty of room to make it personal as well as professional.

Don’t think you can do it? Open up your word processor and practice.

Don’t abuse the Send button
The email barrage? Don’t do it.

Knowing someone’s email address does not give you permission to add her to your mailing list.

If you want to invite an acquaintance to an event, make the message personal. Add a personal note. It doesn’t matter how beautiful the graphics are. If it’s an obvious email blast, that sends the wrong signal.

Goodwill is a precious commodity. Don’t make any assumptions.

Even a quick note makes a difference.

“I’m nearly ready for my show. A little nervous, but that’s how openings go. Love to see you there…”

Just like you’d say in real life, to a real person.

Technology should break barriers, not build them
We have the ability to reach people half a world away. The potential is staggering.

And still we find ways to squander it.

We rush, we take things for granted, gallop after the latest trend, frantically follow the example of the latest and greatest online marketing “expert” and we lose our way.

We fall into a trance. Me and my keyboard, little letters on a screen. Shazam.

You want to make real magic? Pay attention.

Conjure up an image of the person you want to reach.

Imagine what will make her smile when she receives your message.

Then choose your tools and use them well.

About the author: Stacey Cornelius is a writer and artist, and when she’s not gnashing her teeth at the unwelcome contents of her In box, she empowers creative people to show their best work to the world. To get more tips and insights on building a great professional creative practice, subscribe for free updates. Want high speed inspiration? Follow Stacey on Twitter.

A rare introduction
A friend of mine is an aspiring singer-songwrtier. She’s working it in a big way, learning everything she can, taking workshops, playing gigs, and talking to people.

She recently went to a meet and greet with the president of a big organization that provides funding to individuals and groups. She asked someone she knew where he was in the room, because she had no idea what he looked like. When she found out he was standing right next to her, she did what she always does: introduced herself.

“Hey, how are you, brother?”

The courage to be genuine
Trust me when I tell you this woman wouldn’t know pretense if it kicked down her door, sashayed into her kitchen, put its feet up and said howdy. She wasn’t being arrogant or hip. This is who she is.

The president was a little surprised at her rather unorthodox greeting. She wasn’t looking for money, and said so (which may have been a bigger surprise). She chatted with him for about 10 minutes.

She told me the story a couple of days ago. During the ensuing hilarity, she said she was sure he’d never remember her.

I begged to differ.

I seriously doubt most people approach him just as they are, without the usual self-consciousness most of us run into when we meet a Mr. or Ms. Big. She thought about it for half a second, shrugged and said, “We all wake up in bare feet. What did I have to lose?”

Walking the walk
This woman is one of my everyday heroes. She’s as real as it gets, crazy in the best possible way, and following her dream, no holds barred. She gets scared, she doubts herself regularly, but she does not give up.

She doesn’t sweat her brand. She doesn’t have to. She is who she is, for better or worse, and it shines through everywhere she goes and with everything she does.

She works as hard as she does because she’s having a blast. She’s given herself permission to go for it. She’s given herself permission to just be herself. She acts with sincerity, integrity, and good humour.

What do you have to lose?
When you tell yourself to hold back, to tiptoe, to worry what people will think of you, you trip yourself up. You don’t make that phone call, send that email, or dare to say hello to the person you most want to meet.

You lose far more by not doing, by not taking the chance.

I’m supposed to be officially on hiatus for the summer, but I had a half-finished post in the works, which fits nicely between two guest posts, so here I am, breaking curfew.

- – - – - – -

I spent the afternoon with a painter friend recently. We talked about her work, about our time in art school (same university, different years), about teaching and drawing, and what it means to be an artist.

We even talked a little about business. But not much.

Not much business talk was necessary. She does great work, and she knows what she needs to do to build her career. How, when, and if she does it is up to her.

You have those same choices.

All that freedom can hang you up sometimes.

Business isn’t complicated
We convince ourselves business is complicated. It may not always be easy, but it’s not complicated.

We make it that way with the things we tell ourselves.

Think about it: you need to send a promotional package to an out of town shop, gallery or client. The package is done; all that’s required is to write a short introduction letter, tuck everything in an envelope, address it, put a stamp on it and mail the damn thing.

Logistically, it’s a simple task. But it can feel very scary.

You don’t want your recipient to say no. Rejection is never any fun. If you’re early in your career, putting yourself out there to risk rejection can feel like the world is about to end. If you have some experience, you might be just plain tired of being told “No thank you.”

Never say never
Except “No” might really mean “Not yet.” It might mean you sent the wrong pictures. Maybe you sent pictures of large work and they need small things.

“No” might mean the potential client you think is a perfect fit might need a little time to get to know you better.

It might just be a matter of time, or you might need to ask a few questions. But you won’t know if you don’t send that package.

And you’ll never know if you don’t follow up.

When you choose to back away from the things you need to do to grow your professional creative practice, you don’t need to worry about someone telling you no.

You do it to yourself instead.

Sticking yourself in the rut
The more you say no the easier it gets. No risk, no rejection, no consequences, no worries.

But there are consequences. No challenge, no growth, no confidence.

Maybe you’ll get lucky and be discovered without ever trying. Maybe that one client will come looking for you—the one who opens up all the doors you never dreamed possible.

And, since we’re going down that road, maybe you’ll spend your spare time perched on a swing in your mother’s backyard singing “Someday My Prince will Come.”

It sounds ridiculous when you see it in black and white, but you know how easy it is to fall into that rut of wishing instead of doing.

Reclaim the space inside your head
What if you stop beating yourself up right now?

What if you decide to be open to the possibility of yes rather than drenching your psyche in dread?

What if you turn every significant contact, positive or negative, into a neutral learning experience? (As in, think carefully about what went right, what didn’t, and whether or not you need to refine anything, as opposed to rolling your eyes as you tell yourself you’re building more character.)

There are times when you should say no. Chronically negative or vindictive people who try to worm their way into your life. The wrong show. The client who is so unreasonable you never want to work with them again.

Obviously, when someone gives you a definitive no, you need to respect that. But you have to respect yourself and your profession, too. There is a point where you have to draw the line, when you have to stop telling yourself no just to avoid hearing it from someone else.

Have your say
Do you give yourself too many “no” messages? Do you avoid promoting your work so you can avoid rejection?

Do you ever want to unplug from the 21st Century and send messages by carrier pigeon? Do you ever have one of those days where you just want to give up and live in a nice, comfortable, media-free bunker?

Friday, 5:15 pm. I receive an unsolicited email about a business opportunity. Over 100 other people received the very same message. I know this because the sender neglected to create a proper email list, so I can see the address of every recipient.

Do I need to explain why I don’t enjoy having my email address broadcast that way? Do I need to tell you, dear reader, the hazards of exposing your mailing list to dozens of people in one fell swoop?

(Note: if you don’t know already, there is legislation governing direct marketing. There are also best practices, and national marketing associations where you can learn how to do it, online and offline, legally and properly.)

Things just get better from there.

How to (not) win friends and influence customers
So I’m instantly annoyed, and wondering what kind of yahoos I’m dealing with. To give the benefit of the doubt, these people might be thoughtful, kind, and wildly enthusiastic about creating a mutually beneficial business relationship, but if you call yourself a marketing professional and can’t create an email list, you don’t exactly make a stellar first impression.

Next comes the body of the email.

The pitch doesn’t sell me the benefits of participation. It doesn’t really sell anything at all. It’s mostly an introduction to attached documents. I get a sense of “if we build it, they will come,” plus the hope that just jumping on a hot trend will be sufficient to ensure success.

Strike two. I’ve seen too many failed ventures that start with that exact mindset. Plus a lame pitch doesn’t encourage me to bother clicking through to the attachments.

(Another note: the quote is, “If you build it, he will come.” Not they. Different idea entirely. Despite what many people seem to think about business, creating a venue isn’t enough.)

It really is in the details
There are two small images at the bottom of the message, jammed together side by side, but the image files aren’t the same size, so they’re misaligned.

Small detail, yes?

Not really.

If you want to present a professional image, get the visuals right. Two mismatched images at the end of a short email stand out. Since I’m already unhappy, I notice it more than I would if I were eagerly looking for the rest of the information.

There was no unsubscribe option in the email. See above note on best practices.

Say it like you mean it
The first attachment is an overview of the event. It’s a scanned document. And it’s crooked. The title begins with “Re:”

It’s a memo. They’re trying to sell me on an untried business opportunity with a crooked freaking memo.

I give up counting grammatical errors. I gnash my teeth and decide copywriting should be an adjunct to English classes in high school (replace “English” with your language of choice). Both should be mandatory. And anyone assuming a job title with Marketing or Communications in it should be required to pass a writing test and then required to obtain a license to use words, dammit, or sent packing.

Stay with me here. I’ve worked my way into a fit of righteous indignation. Hyperbole is a fringe benefit, and I get to enjoy every infuriating minute of it.

Robotic writing is for robots
The last paragraph begins with “We thank you for your interest…”

Yes, I know. Everybody closes cover letters that way. Except there’s no such thing as everybody, and it’s way past time we stopped acting like pod-dwelling, hairless, follow-the-herd robots and got a little more, I don’t know, animated, when we talk to each other. Like real humans, not the holograms in glossy magazines who wear more botox, silicone and Photoshopping than you can shake a virtual stick at.

Okay, fine. Maybe the person who wrote the letter hates her job and would rather be a chef. And I suppose it’s not fair to chastise someone for following conventions.

So I should yell about conventions that have largely outlived their usefulness. At least where copywriting is concerned.

Well, then. If you’re stoked about your new project, tell me about it. If you want me involved, tell me that, too. Sincerely. The way you’d tell a real person, because I am a real person. Form letters are dead air, and if the best you can do is go through the motions, don’t expect me to believe you have the imagination—or the guts—to make this thing happen.

Two days later I revisit the email to see if I was being unfairly critical. I realize there’s a PowerPoint presentation.

Let’s not go there.

Set your standards and stick to them
You might think I’ve gone over the top with this. But we’re not talking about somebody hacking together a tiny seat-of-the-pants business with no experience or training. These people aren’t absolute beginners. One of the organizations involved in this little shindig is an international company. They have resources.

And this is where they have chosen to set the bar.

These are also the people who will take care of marketing and promoting the event.

But it’s a small event, so none of this should matter, right? Plus if a big company does it that way, you should be able to do the bare minimum, too, and all the mistakes and ignored details in your initial contact with potential customers won’t matter one bit. Will they?

Consider this: everywhere you choose to conduct business, it’s you. Your brand. Your image. Your profession.

There are no small events.

What kinds of marketing drives you crazy? Have you seen something lately that was so good you want to tell people about it? Leave a comment below.

I got an email in response to my call for your burning questions: how do you get the right people (curators, dealers, buyers) to find you on the web?

That’s the big one. How to find them, get their attention, and make them love you, plus conduct this apparent feat of magic without ever looking them in the eye.

Piece of cake. Throw a few pictures on Flickr, sign up for an Etsy shop, sit back and wait for the cash to roll in and the lovesick groupies to shower you with fan mail.

If you’re reading this, you already know that doesn’t cut it. When you set out to establish an online audience, you take the same basic steps as you would to build an audience offline. It requires time, energy, and smart decisions.

Find the right audience—do some detective work
You are not selling to anyone who spends money on art (or craft, or design). You sell to the people who love what you do. If you make raku sushi sets, you don’t go looking for thrift store treasure hunters. You look for the people who have the money to spend on handmade dinnerware as well as people who eat sushi.

That may sound painfully obvious, but there are countless numbers of people running businesses who don’t realize they shouldn’t try to please everyone.

So how do you find the right audience? Pretend you’re a customer. Where would you go to find yourself? Would you search on Google? An online shopping site like Etsy or Artful Home? Would you check out the arts or design organizations in your city to see work online and then buy it in person?

Test the theory. Do some searches on Google. Check online shopping sites to see who’s out there. If you’re a raku sushi set maker, look for blogs about Japanese cooking. Do a search on Twitter, Facebook, or Linkedin for potters, ceramics or ceramic artists. You will find other artists, but you might also find people who are looking for artists.

If you’re still having trouble, or if you’re freaking out, back up and kick it old school.

Start local, go global
Never underestimate the power of starting small and starting where you live. Join your local arts organization. As in, the official, non-profit association that puts on shows, workshops, publishes newsletters and is under constant threat of having its meagre public funding slashed into nonexistence. Take advantage of any online member services they have (a curator from the UK found me that way. She planned most of the exhibition remotely and put the show together in person shortly before it opened).

Now that local news is online and small towns have their own websites, a small show, review, or article has the potential to help you connect with people half a world away. It’s often easier to get local press coverage, so use those opportunities to help you gain exposure and build your reputation. Don’t dismiss the little things—they can add up to big things, or garner some high quality attention.

Tell your friends and clients you’re online. Most people are happy to help spread the word, particularly if you’ve done a good job establishing a professional online presence. That way they feel smart about bragging you up, because their friends will be impressed by their good taste. Then their friends mention you to someone else. Word of mouth starts anywhere and can spread anywhere. Don’t limit your thinking or your marketing—good buzz knows no boundaries.

Show them your best stuff
Give your audience something they’ll love: high quality images, good copy, clean layout. Write a solid artist’s statement. Get a grammar geek to proofread it. Hire a designer if you can swing it (rumor has it Flash sites aren’t search engine-friendly, so be forewarned). If you have to go with a template, your content becomes even more important.

Make sure your site is easy to navigate and easy to read. Just an FYI—some people have trouble viewing websites that use black backgrounds. It is physically uncomfortable. I’m one of those people. If I really want to read the copy, I highlight it, but usually I just click away. I’ve found a few exceptions, and all have been designed by pros who know how to use type extremely well.

You don’t have to put your whole portfolio online. Sometimes less is more. That’s particularly true in the online world, where people are so overloaded with information they can’t take it all in. Be your own curator and show a good body of work.

Connect with your people
The easiest thing to do when networking online is to find people in your field and hang out with them. While it’s true that artists buy art, and that existing clients are more likely to buy from you again, limiting yourself to that audience isn’t the smartest way to do business. Artists have notoriously small budgets, and there’s only so much wall and shelf space in anyone’s home. Business cards and websites generally don’t need a twice-yearly redesign. There might be a long gap before that client buys from you again, so you need to reach a little further.

If you’re still fretting about finding potential buyers, connect with professional organizations and publications on social media. See who they’re following and who’s following them. You might be surprised at who you find on those lists.

(Speaking of publications, writer and painter Lori Woodward recently wrote an article about getting your work published. She has some good tips for painters that can also be applied to other media.)

Be real and well-rounded
If you follow me on Twitter you will quickly realize I don’t just talk about creativity. I’m also into garden design, wildlife preservation, food, and vicarious world travel. I talk about those things because I’m genuinely interested in them, and because constantly yapping about your own work is just as tedious online as it is in person. The online attention span is much shorter, and social media is far less tolerant of people who only show up to sell something, so if you do that, be prepared for the fallout.

Let’s go back to our sushi example. I suggested looking for blogs on Japanese cooking. If you make sushi plates, you might also be into Japanese cooking. Which means it’s entirely appropriate to make comments on a Japanese cooking blog. Not about the fact that you make sushi sets, but about Japanese cooking. Yes, I know. It’s obvious when you read it, but when the online marketing monster has you by the throat, you might be too distracted to notice.

Put the pieces together
I wish there was a magic formula for marketing, offline or online. There isn’t. You do the best work you can, learn what you need to know about promoting it, find the tools that work best for you, and apply them. That’s not magic. It’s thoughtful planning and a process that requires professionalism and persistence at the very least. It can be a creative project in itself, if you approach it the right way. If you think of your website as an evolving art/design exhibition, complete with a bio, descriptions of the pieces, and contact information, you might even start to enjoy it.

Which is the way it should be. It’s definitely a good experience when you come across somebody who’s doing it right.

When I retweet my friend Rachel’s garden design posts or comment on her blog, I do it because I’m into garden design, I think she does great work, and she’s fun to talk to. And now you know about her, too. I met her through an online community. Would I give her a shout out if I thought her work was crap, even though I like her? Nope. Would I tell you how great she is if her work was fabulous but she was an arrogant jerk? Not a chance.

(If you don’t know this already, a lot of artists are also into gardens. Not just looking at them as subject matter, but actually digging in the dirt. Gardeners also seem to be fond of books, both reading them and writing in them. At least, the ones I know. Just tossing that out there for your consideration.)

The power of the message
You may have noticed I flipped the question of how you get the right people to find you to how to find the right audience. There are a couple of reasons for that. One is the obvious problem of the wealth of information lurking on the Web. It’s usually not staring at you. What tends to land in your field of vision are those stupid, annoying ads that clutter your screen when you’re looking for something important. You have to dig a little for the good stuff. A website isn’t like a shop on the busiest street in town. People “just passing by” don’t find you the same way. Someone browsing an online shopping site or professional directory might stumble across you, but your chances are wildly better if you walk up to that person (literally or virtually) and introduce yourself.

(Which, by the way, can be highly effective. You want a curator to think of you when he’s gathering artists for his next exhibition? Send him an email. Tell him how much you liked the show you just saw—the one he curated. Tell him why you liked it. Make sure your contact information is in your email signature line. Is that sleazy or textbooky marketing? Only if you don’t mean it. When you come across something that delights you, take a minute and tell whoever created it. Forget about what connections they might make for you. Those random messages can mean a lot.)

The other reason I flipped the question is more important: marketing is not passive. I’m sure the person who wrote me doesn’t think of her website as an online lottery ticket. It’s well designed, so it’s clear she’s got her head in the right place.

But here’s the thing—words have power. How do I get someone to find me puts you in the wrong frame of mind. It steals your momentum. Don’t wait for them to find you. That will happen naturally through smart marketing, but your goal is to get your work in front of the right people. When you switch the message to match your intention, you put yourself in the right mindset to make that happen.

Over to you: what’s your favourite online marketing tool? What magic marketing solution turned into a pumpkin? What stops you from marketing online?

A few months ago, I read a story about entrepreneurs who had a great idea and a tight budget. They turned that idea into a very successful business that sells skin care products. I liked the story, but what really grabbed me was the description of what they sell.

My guy doesn’t like to shave because he has very sensitive skin. As a result, he avoids it. After about four days of beard growth, I want to stand on his chest and hack the mess off with a bread knife. He doesn’t think it’s flattering, either, and I can’t really blame him for avoiding irritated skin, so I wanted to buy him something good for his skin so shaving wouldn’t be unpleasant. I was happy to pay top dollar to do it.

Long story short: a $100 order would have cost $40 to ship. I almost spent the extra cash (I have this odd fondness for my significant other). But nearly half again to get it here, and no other shipping options? I cancelled the order process and looked for the contact page on the website.

This is where everything went into the ditch.

As I was typing a message about the hair-raising shipping cost, I got an email from the company. I set up an account at the start of the order process which automatically generated a welcome message. Imagine my delight at the offer of free shipping for orders of over $100.

No, wait. Check the fine print. Right. The offer is only good for continental USA.

I believe this is what we call “irony.”

For the non-techie types out there, here’s a tip: it’s not rocket science to capture the country code in an online database. It does not require splitting atoms to send US customers a message that includes an offer for free shipping, and a different message to the people who don’t qualify. If a company has enough cash to throw at a top-notch website, they can manage to get their auto-responder message right.

By “right” I mean not telling all your customers that people who live in a certain region get special treatment, while the rest of us can piss off. It’s the Internet. Bigshot businesses have the ability to process data immediately and respond accordingly. They can customize their message. Microbusinesses have ways to do that, too, without trashing the budget. It mostly requires more work, at least at first, but it can be done.

Now let’s put some icing on my cupcake.

When I sent my message about the high shipping cost and how it was unfortunate that no other options were available for Canadian customers, the contact page promised messages would be responded to within 24-48 hours. I sent mine on Sunday, so bump it up to the next business day. It’s not a complicated issue. They can either offer the US Postal Service as an option, or not (and if they can, it should be in the online order process). So far, no response. Do they have a backlog of messages because of the holiday gift buying season? No idea. Was my order too small to bother with? No idea.

The company also promises to send out online orders within 24-48 hours. Should I believe that? Good question.

I got another email this morning offering free shipping. I unsubscribed from the email list and deleted the message.

Here’s the big lesson: when you’re selling online (or by conventional mail-order catalogue, for that matter), take a step back and walk through your entire process, from first contact to delivery, as if you were a customer. Better yet, get a non-techie person to walk through it while you sit beside them and take notes. Every step of the way.

This is also a sound practice for in-person selling, but it’s critical when you don’t have immediate contact with your customer. When you’re face to face, the conversation is fluid. You can address problems, questions and objections in real time. When you get technology to do your talking for you, you’d better make sure you have your message sorted out and be prepared to keep your promises about delivery and response time. If you promise a certain number of days, be prepared to keep your word.

If you don’t, you could get a snarky marketing type writing a blog post about how you messed up her Christmas idea for her squeeze. If you’re really lucky, she won’t name names, because that’s not the way she rolls, but she’ll still be mad at you and won’t recommend you to anyone. She’ll also decide your remarkable story about ordinary people with an extraordinary idea has become nothing more than another faceless corporate monster, and might even decide your allegedly top-quality product is just overpriced. All because of a poorly executed online order process.

I still want to find some good skin care/shaving stuff for my fellow dog-wrangler. In the meantime, we visited our friendly Mountain Equipment Co-op store and bought ourselves new winter hiking boots for Christmas. Not very romantic, but badly needed, and happy feet are a good thing. I also bought a pair of Smartwool socks for my finicky feet. Check out their Woolology page (maybe not good for dialup connections) and play with the balls of wool.

A good cure for snarkiness is finding a company that’s committed to delighting their customers. But I won’t try to order online. At least, not today.

We visit the first dealer. This is our second choice in terms of resale value and reliability, but best in price.

I’m annoyed in two minutes flat.

Stereotypes and scripts can backfire
Statistics show women make the majority of buying decisions, so our salesguy – let’s call him John – looks pointedly at me as he makes his pitch. He keeps using my name. Great. He’s working with a script. I feel my eyes start to roll of their own accord, so I occupy myself by carefully keeping them in place. Then he makes what he figures is a really good point.

“And Stacey, you know these vehicles are equipped with air bags.”

Now, I have to give John a break. He doesn’t know I have no qualms about being a story and a half high on an extension ladder in a stiff breeze, painting the trim on our house. I’m not exactly a quivering little girl. But this is what he should know, since we’re face to face: I’m not very tall, which means I have to sit close to the steering wheel for my feet to reach the pedals. John’s thinking I’ll feel all safe and secure, knowing there are nice, fluffy air bags in my shiny new car. Me, I suddenly envision the possibility of a high velocity explosion mere inches from my head, which is something I’d rather not think about.

This is an example of getting your features and benefits way wrong. It’s an example of relying too heavily on a canned sales pitch. Most of all, it’s an example of what happens when you’re not engaged.

Know your customer—ask questions
John could have started by asking what brought us in. Since we’d read Consumer Reports, we were already 90% sold—all John had to do was close the sale. He could have ditched the script and spent a few minutes asking us about what we were looking for in a vehicle. Airbags are standard equipment, so not high on my list of priorities. That simple inquiry could have also spared me the insult of being treated like the “little woman” (what is this, 1950?).

We tell John we’ll think about it.

Proceed to the second dealer. This is the best vehicle in its category. The price is a little high, but I’m annoyed by the sales pitch I just heard, so I want to check out a second option.

This is a very short story.

We barely begin talking to the salesguy when he stops mid-sentence to stare at a female colleague crossing the showroom. Five solid seconds of silence.

Lesson 1: If your prospective customer finds herself wondering if you’re a stalker, you’re pretty much done (don’t poison your brand).

Lesson 2: It’s way easier to buy from someone who’s paying attention and treats you with respect.

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