What to do when your plans go to hell
September 16, 2009On Monday I wrote a post about the hazards of comparing yourself to others and how to define your own success. I had a clever little idea to link it to today’s post, where I talked about looking to your competition to see how they do their marketing, so you can make yours great. An elegant paradox, no?
There’s a wrinkle.
Part of the reason I started The Studio Source was because I was having trouble finding information that would help me with my own business. I’m always looking for ways to improve, and since I can’t seem to keep my mouth shut, I want to share that information with other people. So I started learning more. A few weeks ago I signed up for a membership site that has a forum and instructional teleconferences. I rarely call in because of my schedule; I get the recordings afterwards.
The calls are on Wednesdays. You will undoubtedly observe that today is Wednesday. (If I were a fiction writer, I’d point out this is where I build suspense.)
So I don’t call in, because I’m trying to get this embryonic blog on its feet and produce some content. (If you’ve never done this kind of thing before, or if you’ve never started a business, please be advised there is a certain amount of fear involved.) I figure I’ll write a few posts and introduce myself on the forum to get some comments going (note to new bloggers: approximately 1% of visitors leave comments). Since the good people on the forum are all marketing and business types and clearly comfortable in an online community, they’re a good bet for some friendly support.
I rifle through my In box to retrieve my login ID and spot the reminder for today’s call, which I’ve ignored until now. I click on the message, read the topic for the call, and my stomach climbs into my throat.
I won’t know for sure until I either hear the recording in a couple of days, or my marketing guru replies to my sad, sad message, but I’m about 99% sure that the topic of the call and my earlier post are the same bloody topic.
At least I didn’t go blundering into the forum with a big hello. I don’t care if people think I’m a lunatic. I don’t care if they think I’m some kind of freak who can’t make up her mind between art and business. I care if they think I’m unethical. Because I’m not.
So what to do? Yank today’s post and edit Monday’s? Head to the forum and tell everyone hello and by the way, if I ripped off today’s call I promise I was completely unaware, and no, I’m not a skank?
Go to Plan B
This is where I remind you that marketing is marketing, more or less. The difference (in my own entirely original opinion) is how you finesse it. It makes sense to talk about business with someone who has firsthand experience in your field, because every profession has its challenges and peculiarities. Those people get you. They know how it feels when you rely on your talent to pay the bills. It’s a good connection to make.
How this is about marketing
My dilemma isn’t so different from yours. There are lots of artists, designers, writers, craftspeople and crafters (yes, there’s a difference; maybe we’ll talk about that sometime), butchers, bakers, and candlestick makers. There’s going to be some overlap. Sometimes it may leave you mortified.
One of the most important things you can do as a creative, as well as in your marketing, is to be authentic. And resourceful. If I trashed my earlier post, I wouldn’t get to write this one, would I?
Feel free to share your lemons-to-lemonade stories, or tales of mortification, anytime.

Hey, Stacey, mine is more a tale of mortification than anything else.
I’m a photographer who has had an on-going photo exhibit at one of the UC Berkeley libraries for the past three years, changing the exhibit annually. For the past seven years, I’ve been invited annually to exhibit for a month at The Faculty Club (a private club on campus, high visibility, foot traffic). I’m one of their “favorites.”
So what’s mortifying? I have never figured out how to capitalize on either exhibit. The compiments are nice and always welcome but I’ve never come close to beaking even on either exhibit. A sale here or there is about it.
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Stacey Cornelius Reply:
September 19th, 2009 at 11:43 am
It’s a classic situation, Sally (heavy sigh).
WIthout being able to see the exhibit, I can only hazard a guess, but context is important. Some environments are more conducive to looking than to buying. If the setup doesn’t easily let your audience know that yes, these beautiful objects are for sale, they won’t be in a buying frame of mind.
It’s also important to consider who the audience is. Are these the people who are likely to buy your work? Is the price within their reach? When you’re selling something, you need to go where your buyers are. Stay tuned for a post on that very subject.
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Stacey:
I can see this blog will be one I’ll follow. I figure, in a perfect world, I could sit in my studio and make beautiful things…none of which would be produced with a thought to material cost, time spent or possible markets. And magically, someone would stumble into my studio and wave her magic wand and voila!…a market of hundreds of eager buyers would appear.
Note. This would be without my promoting on Facebook, joining in on Etsy forums, pounding the street, placing ads, joining societies or discussing my work.
I need a good kick in the psychological butt (not to mention a lot more hours in the week than I have at my disposal)…and I think this blog may be perfectly suited to me (and thousands like me) who feel slightly ill at the very thought of talking up our own work or sitting down to figure out an honest-to-god-marketing-strategy.
I was very glad to get this link!
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Stacey Cornelius Reply:
September 23rd, 2009 at 8:07 pm
Thanks for the comment, Linda. When exactly did days become six hours shorter? I missed that memo, but I’m definitely feeling the effects.
Let me know if you have burning questions so I can keep content relevant (that applies to anyone else reading, too).
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