While the online space and social media have ushered in access to knowledge previously locked away in library stacks, continuing education classes, and on microfiche, they’ve also opened the door to scam artists and faux marketers who hock five-figure online courses and master classes riddled with inaccuracies.
Business coaches peddle their wares while they have zero experience beyond building an Instagram presence. I’m not knocking anyone’s hustle, but I’m questioning how factors of luck and opportunity (in addition to hard work, of course) can translate to the complexities of small businesses and corporations. …
I once worked for a sociopath who took on any client as long as the checks cleared. Zeroes at the end of bank balances mattered more than ethics and integrity. Social responsibility was useful for photo ops, posh parties, and celebrity cameos.
Ours was a world where people pretended to care about other people, the world, when the reality was we focused on the care and feeding of our checking accounts. Money was the only thing worth nurturing.
No one tells you this starts as a controlled burn until the fire ravages and rages. Always, it flares out. …
A year ago, a coward sent me an anonymous note via the contact form on my exceedingly janky website. Who do you think you are charging clients eight thousand dollars? You’re a nobody.
I had just gotten off the phone the prior week with a client of mine who told me, point blank, that I was undercharging for my work. An agency billed us $50K for the mess you charged $15,000 to fix. …
Your brand isn’t your Instagram post. It’s not your logo or your blog. These are expressions of a brand — how you could potentially bring your brand to life, but it’s not the core of who you are, what you believe in, what you do and why you do it.
Trust me, I do this for a living for real companies and real people. Successfully. For years.
Simply put, a brand is a set of perceptions a customer has of your business. These perceptions are formed based on the products you sell, how, where, when and why you sell them…
I’d rather bludgeon myself with common household appliances than crack algorithms and chase clout. I don’t want my stories to follow a formula; I’ve never been someone who’s ever colored inside the lines. Instead, I’d rather burn the book and devour the ashes.
For years, I used to downplay the marketing work I did because it wasn’t high art. It wasn’t literary. The stories I told for my clients paled in comparison to the worlds I composed on the page. Sentences that would take hours to knit together because I had to get the cadence and rhythm just right. …
I am still forming. I am dorsal, fin, and bone. Surfacing from the shallows. Listening to everyone make their mouth sounds. The children smell of cotton and peppermint. I think of that first light and those tight, tiny fists. Where am I? What is this? I’d like a do-over. Their teeth storming through while the old spit tombstones out. Their faces woolen and worn. I don’t want to go just yet. What have I done? I’d like a do-over.
Both sleep heavy and complete. One heart throttles while the other thumps. Teeth still in transit.
It’s the middle we’ve made…
Value is a not a wonder drug. It’s not the one pill that makes you larger, to quote Jefferson Airplane. Value is the baseline, the bare minimum you should be offering your customers. Otherwise, take up cross-stitch or some other harmonious hobby because you’re not running a business if people don’t achieve any one of the following:
Here’s what customers value above all…
I used to be proud of being a cactus — a woman who was prickly, hard to know, content in my reclusiveness. After 16 years working in an office, surrounded by a constant stream of chatter, personalities, and politicking, all I craved was quiet. I wanted to focus on the work. Instead of having to work with brands that didn’t align with my values, I no longer had to smile through gritted teeth. In 2013, I left full-time life in favor of building a business on my own terms. …
I was the kid who was always called into guidance counselors’ offices because I wrote “disturbing” stories. Is there something going on at home, they’d ask with the kind of hesitation that suggested they really didn’t want to know. Of course, there was something going on at home. There was always something going on at home, but me writing a story about a girl hanging from a tree when I’m thirteen had nothing to do with it.
Our wounds are our stories, and we spend our lives picking at the scars.
I used to do this thing where I’d stare…
Marketing Exec/Author. Work in Human Parts, OneZero, Forge, Index & Marker. Hire me: t.ly/bEnd7 Brand & Content eBooks: t.ly/ZP5v List: https://cutt.ly/9j7Ngvz