My Offering
My friend in high school got a job selling vacuum cleaners door-to-door. Tough gig, but she did well because she sincerely believed in those vacuum cleaners. Like a religious convert, she raved about them all the time, even when there were no prospective buyers in the room and everyone just wanted to go to sleep. This girl was convinced that her product was exactly what every household needed, even though her own bedroom was so messy she never had a chance to glimpse the carpet, never mind vacuum it.
That was when I knew my friend and I were very different people. I hate the feeling that someone is trying to sell me something, and I would rather spend the rest of my life under a rock than give others that feeling. I am not easily persuaded by the enthusiasm of others, and I don’t expect anybody to jump on my bandwagons either.
But I love the idea of being an entrepreneur. The biggest hurdle, now that I’ve launched my own business is knowing that I have to do marketing and sales. I know I have to believe in myself at least as much as my friend believed in those vacuum cleaners. And I’m getting there!
I think I’ve mentioned in other posts that I’m an Enneagram type five. According to the Enneagram there are nine personality types that form around nine core fears, desires, and limiting beliefs that we develop in early childhood. The type five’s core desire is to have something to bring to the table. The core fear is coming up empty.
We fives typically spend our lives studying and learning, working toward that elusive day when we will have knowledge or skills to offer the world. Meanwhile, we build thick shells around ourselves against anyone who would impose on us and ask for something we’re afraid we can’t give. We’re probably the most introverted of all the Enneagram types.
Times when I’ve been faced with the fact that I do have something to offer, and I do contribute to others in a meaningful way, becoming a seamless part of something larger than myself, have been the most beautiful holy grail moments in my life. It’s like a spiritual high.
I ghostwrite non-fiction books for teachers, coaches, and other experts. I have a client, a life coach, who cried when she saw how I put her feelings on the page. What I had written up was something she had wanted to express for a long time. That was a holy grail moment.
As far as sales, my method goes like this:
- I research prospective clients in a rush of excitement because I love their ideas and I’m entranced by how much I stand to learn from them. It’s not only an opportunity to read a wonderful book, but to help bring it into the world.
- I write fervent emails, not really daring to hope anyone will respond.
- Sometimes they do respond, and they do want a book, and they want to work with me.
I’ve learned that this is called cold emailing, and it’s a sales and marketing technique that seems to make most people shudder. Maybe because of the time I invest in these prospects before they even know I exist? I don’t know. I just want to make sure I’m not imposing before I reach out.
It’s easy for me to approach people because I want to share what I’m passionate about — digging into powerful ideas, forming creative collaborations, and bringing new books into the world. My mentor tells me I should focus more on the value I offer to my clients than on how thrilling the work is for me.
I get it that publishing a book is great for business growth, and I know I can deliver. The first book I wrote for someone is among the top 20 bestsellers in two categories on Amazon, and it’s in the top 100 in a third category. I need to learn how to talk about that without feeling like I’m standing on someone’s porch with a vacuum cleaner.
I can’t guarantee that a holy grail moment will occur, but it usually does. At least a few times.
