Right now you’re focused on what needs to happen before the end of the year to reach your goals.  For many business owners, Black Friday and the weeks following are make-or-break moments.

Conveniently, Thanksgiving appears on the calendar, and we think, “Ahhh.  Now’s the time that I send our traditional Thanksgiving message to our customers and partners wishing them a good holiday and thanking them for their business.  It will be a great yet subtle reminder that they should spend some money with me in December.  Now, where’s that picture of the turkey or the cornucopia that I used last year?”

Meanwhile, we’re skimming through our own inboxes scrolling through all the Thanksgiving email messages thanking us and wishing us a Happy Thanksgiving.  And, with the holiday looming, followed by the chaos of December, are we savoring those Thanksgiving e-mails, taking the time to think about what the sender means to us and about how glad we are that we’ve chosen to do business with them?  I’m guessing not.

* * * * * * * *

The truth is, if you truly are grateful for your customers, they should already know it.  They can tell by the way they’re greeted in your store, by the way your phone is answered, and by the timeliness of your response to their email or voice mail.  They know you appreciate them because you’ve made them feel like they’re “in the club,” with access to inside information and special deals that the general consumer doesn’t get.

They know they’re valued when their concerns are taken seriously, when we remember their names and the names of their spouse or kids, and when we welcome their ideas for improvement.  We earn our customers’ loyalty when we respect their time, we offer significant value through options like free classes or e-books, and we don’t manipulate them or upsell them something they don’t really need.

* * * * * * * *

Do you want to stand out in your customers’ minds?  Demonstrate your appreciation throughout the year in the everyday moments of your relationship with them to the extent that a canned Thanksgiving message is redundant.

Enjoy the feast!

I’ve been fairly introspective of late and am trying to figure out where I am and where I’m going.  That’s what lead me to thinking about rivers.

I’ve never had the opportunity to go on a river trip, but I’m determined to try it soon.  Will I go by canoe or inner tube?  Will I tempt fate on the white water rapids?  Or will I hop onto a riverboat cruise and leave the navigation to the pros?

Thinking about my current endeavors, I’m tempted initially by the riverboat cruise.  Just show up, find a seat, make some friends, and it’s auto pilot from there.  Of course, that means relinquishing all control and going wherever the riverboat captain decides, and it means no leaving the boat once it’s underway.  Plus, once you’ve toured the boat and met some people, what else is there except sitting and watching the world go by?

I’ve always wanted to try the rapids.  What an adrenalin rush!  The scenery is gorgeous, your life and the welfare of those in the raft are literally in your hands, and between moments of relative calm are times of terrifying uncertainty.  And when you arrive safely at the end, what a feeling of accomplishment and bonding with the other folks in the raft!  I think I’d enjoy that — once.  And with a trained guide.  And with others in the boat with more experience than I have on white water rapids.  And with a guarantee, like at an amusement park, that all of the times that feel scary and exciting are in fact absolutely safe.

So that leaves cruising down the lazy river.  The inner tube sounds more comfortable and relaxing, but much harder to control the navigation.  So I guess the canoe is the best option for me.

I’m in my canoe by myself for the time being on a river I’ve never experienced, and it’s cloaked in thick, early morning fog.  I’ve spent some of my trip flowing smoothly, admiring the scenery and enjoying the characters I’ve met along the way.  I’ve also been waylaid by submerged logs, stuck on sandbars where I had to dig in and use all my strength to strain to pull my boat to deeper water.  It’s been an exhilarating journey, with times of loneliness, struggle and doubt.

With the current fog, it’s hard to tell where I am, where to paddle, and where the dangers lie.  Sometimes it feels like I’m moving backwards, and other times that I must be paddling upstream because I’m wearing out and not making much progress.  Just pulling in the oars doesn’t feel like the best option, but I’m not ready to swim to shore, either.

If you’re on this river with me, could you shout out?  Maybe if we continue to call back and forth to each other, we’ll find our way back to blue skies.  I’ll be listening for you!

Did you know that November 10 has been set aside for celebrating vanilla cupcakes?  Seems kind of silly, right?  I mean, who comes up with this stuff?  And how creative could a celebration of vanilla cupcakes really be?

And yet, there might be a few marketing lessons to learn from this and other seemingly trivial commemorative “holidays.”

1. Even if you don’t care, apparently someone does, so get into your clients’ heads and figure out what’s important to them.  Don’t judge, because your challenge is to find common ground with every customer, even if you can’t relate.
2. Acknowledge what the majority wants, rather than what you think they should want..  Vanilla remains the most popular flavor of ice cream, and when in doubt, you can’t go wrong buying the white cake rather than the chocolate.
3. Less can often be truly more. Sure, “vanilla” has the connotation of being bland, unoriginal, and boring.  But it’s also familiar, comforting and predictable.  People know what to expect with vanilla.  They can always jazz it up with toppings, but the foundation remains the same.  Keep the message simple, and people will keep coming back.  Definitely jazz it up occasionally, but keep the foundation consistent.

Finally, simply the act of celebration might infuse some excitement into your marketing message.  What creative “holiday” could you find to celebrate that might be unique your business?  How could you encourage others to have fun participating in that celebration with you?   Some ideas:

• Ask for personal stories that relate to whatever you’re celebrating
• Post goofy photos of people at your company celebrating (even if they’re pretending)
• Tie a special offer or giveaway to the celebration
• Post updates (like a “live feed”) of the day’s activities, even if they’re not real
• Offer resources or advice connected to the “holiday” that offer real value and demonstrate expertise
• Post an interactive quiz and relay the results at the end of the “holiday”

So while it might be too late for you to celebrate National Vanilla Cupcake Day, there are plenty of other crazy holidays for you to consider.   And, if you don’t see what you want, go ahead and make one up.  Somebody has to start it, right?

So, I’ve finally decided to take the plunge and am offering a series of seminars on Social Media and Small Business.  How hard could it be?  Gather great content, spread the word, find the perfect locations, and then wait for the crowds to amass, right?

That’s where the irony begins.

I•ro•ny |ˈīrənē; ˈiərnē|

1. The practice of planning a seminar about how to simplify your marketing through effective use of social media, and then marketing that seminar by adding too many complex layers of web/e-mail blast/shopping cart/PDF downloads that those seeking more information are turned off by annoying technical glitches.
2. The decision to leverage a reputation built over three years of hard work and relationship building to launch high quality workshops, and looking silly when the links don’t work.
3. Engaging the assistance of a valuable network to spread the word, and then crippling their ability to do so with confusing instructions and invalid links.
4. Being a communication expert who struggles to communicate about the one event about which I am most passionate

Now, before you go wagging your finger about my self-deprecation, I’m not done with my definition.

Most ironic — and valuable — is that in my effort to teach my colleagues an easier way to connect with their target market, I’ve perhaps learned the most valuable lessons.  Of course, that’s how it always works.  The teacher always learns more than the students if his or her ego will allow it.

So, instead of viewing these hurdles as signs to turn back, I see them instead as opportunities for growth, and for adding to my library of life experiences that I can transform into lessons for others.

If you’d like to know more about my Social Media for Small Business Seminar, you can check it out here.  Of course, if that link doesn’t work, you can download this PDF.  And if all else fails, you can smile and sing a little Alannis Morissette:

It’s like rain on your wedding day
It’s a free ride when you’ve already paid
It’s the good advice that you just didn’t take
Who would’ve thought … it figures

Sometimes I think it would be nice to own a donut shop.

You set up a routine, you define your products, you bring in repeat customers, and you build relationships.  People sit around in your donut shop and laugh, read the paper, and relax, and you’re a part of all of it.

It’s the best of both worlds.  You’re spending time with your customers, getting to know them and enjoying the development of those relationships.  But you’re also clearly selling a product, one people don’t get to taste until they’ve handed you the cash.

Providing services for my clients seems so much more complicated than that, primarily because I want to focus on the relationships and not on the product sales.

If I owned a donut shop, none of my friends or colleagues I respect would come in, see the quality of my donuts, and ask for a dozen without expecting to pay for them before they left the shop.  They would enter the transaction fully understanding that they would pay me before they ever tasted a donut, and after looking around the shop full of happy customers and inhaling the enticing smell of warm cinnamon rolls, they’d hand over the money and never even think twice.

More importantly, I wouldn’t feel bad charging them.  (Ok, maybe I would feel bad charging my close friends… but I’ve got issues.)  I have a product.  They want the product.  They offer me the money I ask.  They get the product.

Things are much fuzzier with my writing clients, and 90% of that is my failure to set clear boundaries and expectations.

A friend asks me to look over a cover letter she’s sending out to prospective employers.  Do I charge her?

A client gets referred to me from a good friend and needs a project turned around quickly.  Do I ask for money up front?

Intellectually I know the answer to the second scenario, but I continue to operate on faith that if I deliver what I say I will and the client appreciates it, he or she will pay me promptly, just as they would for the donut.

I have to adjust my mindset and make a commitment to the growth of my business by treating the writing and editing services I provide like donuts.  I’m happy to provide them, and am ecstatic if you keep coming back because you like them and want to hang out, but the money gets figured out up front.  Once the expectations are in place, then both clients and I can go back to enjoying the relationship and benefiting from the product.

Now about those  hot, fresh donuts…  mmmmmmmmmmmm.

Being in business is tough.  Being a small business is tougher.  Being a sole proprietor is one of the most challenging adventures of my life.

“Grass is greener” folks envy my freedom to set my own rules, schedule, pricing, etc.  They note my low overhead and absence of HR headaches, and believe that with only myself to answer to, I can take off for the beach or the mountains at a moment’s notice, because who’s going to tell me no?

I admit that being my own boss has its advantages.  I could also point out the list of challenges, like being responsible for every single facet of business development, maintenance, sustenance, and delivery, but I hate whiners.

I will say that as a sole-proprietor and service provider for whom traditional marketing is not effective, the secret of my success has been the relationships I’ve been fortunate enough to develop.  Networking is important, a Rolodex is nice, a qualified prospect list can come in handy, but absolutely nothing is more valuable and more essential that the ability and commitment to developing and enhancing relationships.

I’m a member of a networking group whose goal is NOT generating referrals, nor does it serve as a forum for members to outline their week’s goals and then be held accountable to the group to report their progress.  This group does not exist so members can socialize and gossip, and it doesn’t foster the cliques that sometimes sprout in professional groups.

My networking group is the Business Development Alliance, and its mission is to foster growth and success among its members through relationship development.  We believe that by learning about each other’s businesses — the good, the bad, and the ugly — we develop a bond that naturally motivates us to provide whatever support we can.  Because we develop these relationships, we’re invested in each other’s success, and we become the cheerleaders that assure each member that they can find a way through the obstacles and can achieve success.   We are fiercely loyal and could serve as a passionate sales force for each other because we can talk about the person and their character, which better illustrates the value of their company than any brochure ever could.

I challenge you to take stock of your business relationships.  Ask first what value you are contributing, and how generous you are being with ideas, feedback, and support.  Next, ask what support is missing from your current approach.  Do you need information?  Creative problem solving?  A safe place to vent?  A kick in the butt?  A reassuring pat on the back?  Are you receiving these benefits from your business relationships?  If you are, have you demonstrated appreciation and given back?  If you’re not, have you asked?

Genuine business relationships that grow into more than passing acquaintances are the safety net we need in times of uncertainty, and are the cheering crowd we need when celebration is in order.  Whether you’re a sole-proprietor like me who needs others to be sounding boards and advisers, or one of 10,000 people in a mega corporation, your success depends on the quality and depth of your relationships, and it is critical that you invest the time, energy, and brain power in each, because the ROI is beyond imagination.

When marketing folks and professional communicators like me wag our fingers at clients and declare that their prospects have short attention spans and selfish motives, we’re not kidding.  When we nag that you’ve got to catch their attention quickly, hold it just long enough, and then let go before they drift away, believe us.  We know…  because we’ve been on the other side….

I sat through a presentation today and wanted to crawl out of my skin.  My stomach was clenched in knots, my breathing was fast, and time slowed in dramatic fashion.  Had I not been sitting in the middle of the row in the middle of the room, I would have slipped out and been grateful for the additional 45 minutes of freedom I’d been given.

Here’s what I’ve realized.  I am an incredibly impatient communicator.  Note I said communicator, and not listener, because communication is a constant process and even as I’m listening, I’m also communicating.  Whether I’m reading or watching or listening, I need to find value early on, or I’m gone.  And that value has to be relevant to my day-to-day life, or my hopes and dreams, or my hot buttons, and not just some esoteric “all-for-the-greater-good” reward.

I am that easily distracted, often irritated, and usually rushed prospect my clients are trying to target.

If you’re going to request my attention and the time it will take for me to grasp your message, respect me.  Don’t talk down to me, don’t launch the hard sell, and don’t spend forever telling me what you’re going to tell me before you get around to finally telling me.  Don’t try to be funny if it isn’t natural and immediately connected.  Don’t bore me with the minutiae or read a list of features and benefits.  And by all means, keep it short and sweet, and help me see very quickly WIIFM!  Show me, don’t tell me, why I should care.  Learn about me so that I believe you empathize.  Offer me reasonable solutions for my pain and troubles, but don’t make promises that there’s no way you can keep.

You’ve got to connect with me on an emotional level.  You’ve got to establish credibility because you’ve been where I’ve been and felt how I’ve felt.  You’ve got to want the relationship more than the sale, and be ready to give away a lot for free to establish yourself as an expert with integrity who really does just want to help.

Face it.  There are too many messages to choose from, and too many ways for people to spend their time.  They don’t have to listen or pay attention to you, and won’t feel bad about tuning you out.  You get a moment to prove you’ve got something they might want, and then every nanosecond afterward needs to be spent building trust and demonstrating value, because without warning, your prospect or customer will be lured by another message.

If you don’t think the communication you deliver is critical to your success, you haven’t had me in your audience.   I AM the one you’ve been warned about.

Just like everyone else this month, I’m caught up in the Olympics. I didn’t plan to be, and would have proclaimed that I didn’t really care about any of it, but when flipping channels and catching a glimpse of the determined facial expressions, the deep, calming breaths, and the struggle to control the disappointment, you can’t help but get hooked.

My 11-year-old son has grown up watching pro basketball, baseball, and football, and can tell you about the big names in each sport. He’s also come of age in a tough time for the Husker football team, when fans can’t decide whether to cheer or tar and feather the whole lot. So he doesn’t really get the Olympics.

We were watching swimming last night, and he continued the running commentary about how boring it was. That is, until the men’s 4×4 relay, when the U.S. earned gold four seconds faster than the gold medal. Then he decided maybe the Olympics weren’t so bad.

However, it occured to me that with cash prizes, outrageous salaries, and millions of dollars of endorsements dominating sports these days, we’ve forgotten what it’s like to play for nothing but the love of the game. These days there’s always a carrot, always a bonus or external reward. Even in kids’ sports, pressure begins early to make the select team so you can go to the right high school and then the right college, etc., etc., etc.

What about playing just because you love to play — regardless of the score, or the title, or the press coverage?

I’m not naive enough to think that Olympic athletes don’t have pro contracts and endorsements riding on their performance, but the whole atmosphere is different. Every athlete from every country has worked harder than they ever thought they could, and made sacrifices few of us can fathom. This is their one chance — to make their hard work pay off, to bring glory to their team, and to exalt their countries on the gold medal platform. Every action, every event, every mistake matters. And you can read it on every face.

As I ponder my future as a writer and speaker, I worry about the money, and about making ends meet and paying the bills. But I also love what I do. I think my face scrunches up in that look of determination each time I tackle a new project, and I know I take deep breaths when my deadline is looming fast. I smile in the face of criticism from fickle clients, and send e-mails with happy faces and explanation points when someone raves about my work.

Yeah, I’m sacrificing, as is my whole family. It’s scary, and uncertain, and at least once a week I consider finding a regular paycheck in an office somewhere.

But for as long as I can, I’m going to keep playing for the love of the game. It doesn’t happen often enough anymore, and I want my son to learn that there is amazing satisfaction in doing what you love. Go U.S.A.!!

I’m a sucker for e-books, especially when they’re free. I’ll trade my name and e-mail for knowledge any day of the week, especially knowing I can opt out if the subsequent stream of e-mails becomes too annoying.

So I downloaded my latest e-book today and it’s really got me thinking. You can check it out at the Success Enterprises website, which I was happy to see is connected to a Sarpy County business.

This e-book is longer than most I take the time to tackle, but its story keeps replaying in my head, and the moral resonates with what I really need to be doing.

While the premise is a fairy tale about three brothers, the lesson involves how our perspective and attitude determines our level of success. Each of the brothers was blocked by various obstacles from achieving happiness, and it wasn’t until they began asking four critical questions (over and over and over) that their paths began to dramatically change.

Question #1: What do you want?

What’s the life you envision for you and your family? What specific elements comprise that vision? What emotions are connected?

Question #2: What will that do for you?

When you achieve the goals you’ve set, what does your life look like? What benefits do you enjoy that you couldn’t before? How are you better off by getting what you want?

Question #3: How will you know when you have it?

What has to happen to demonstrate that you’ve reached your goal? What are the specific, descriptive characteristics of the newly defined situation that prove you’ve arrived at your destination?

Question #4: What’s stopping you from getting what you want, and what do you need to do to overcome those obstacles?

What are your road blocks, and how do you bypass them? And if you don’t know, how could you find out?

A friend told me yesterday that each time we encounter information that resonates with us, it’s just another opportunity to reinforce what we already know. These questions may seem like common sense, but as the story demonstrates, they’re deceptively simple, and their answers continue to change.

However, by staying focused on what you want, how having that will improve your life, and what opportunities exist for you to achieve what you want, you train your brain to notice those opportunities, and find information and people that complement your journey.

Yes, it’s another version of the popular Law of Attraction, but it makes sense, especially about telling your brain what to notice. If you’re afraid of wasps, as my 9-year-old is, you’ll see every wasp in a 10-mile radius and be certain that they’re out for your blood. If you make friends easily, then you see friendly people everywhere you go. If you’re lonely and wishing you had a significant other, you’ll see loving couples everywhere. If you’re unhappy in your relationship, you’ll run into lots of other people who are also unhappy in their relationships. Our brain notices what’s foremost in our thoughts, and contributes additional evidence to affirm our current train of thought.

So by asking these questions, we stay focused on what we can have, and what we can achieve, and what blessings we enjoy, and thus we continue to find joy and rewarding opportunities. And like anything, the more we practice shaping our focus, the more natural it becomes.

Go check out this e-book, and then leave me a comment about what you thought. And in the meantime, start focusing on what that perfect parking place looks like. It works for me, I swear!

If you’ve been working as a “creative” for long, you already know where this post is heading. If you’re just a curious onlooker, then let me explain.

When I was growing up, I dreaded working on projects with my dad. He and I are a lot alike, which has its benefits … and curses. Dad didn’t get the sons he may have wanted, but that didn’t stop him from raising his daughters to be independent and self-sufficient. He valued the intellectual, and encouraged us to think and explore and challenge the status quo. He also loved any opportunity to break out the band saw, or load up the snowmobiles, or go hunting, or whatever other spontaneous project struck his fancy.

In those moments of discussion and debate at the round table in our living room, questions and suggestions were encouraged and expected. However, once we left the intellectual realm, it was a whole new ballgame. A usually patient and congenial man, my father transformed into a focused project-driven machine who had only one way of getting from point A to point B — his way. No other approach would work, and the process was as important as the end product.

The problem came when I became part of the project team. Dad didn’t have time for lengthy explanations, nor did he want to hear other points of view. I was supposed to dive in with a happy face to work as hard as he was with the same determination to finish the project. And while that was challenging enough, he expected me to understand not only his end goal, but the specific approach he had in mind to get there. He assumed I could recognize the various tools by name, that I knew how much throttle I needed to land the snowmobile back on the trailer in the perfect spot, and that I would be that extra pair of hands that would function in tandem with his master plan.

I can say that I learned a lot by trial and error, and that my dad and I had to walk away from one another more than once before frustration resulted in aneurysm. My need for clarification of project directions or goals confounded him, because the answers apparently should have been obvious.

I find myself flashing back to those days when I work with some of my clients. I worry a little when I begin asking my barrage of questions whether they’ll feel as frustrated as my dad felt. Some of them know what they want and can’t understand why I don’t immediately see their vision. Some of them struggle to describe the end product, but are certain they’ll know it when they see it. Some of them want to order a letter or a page of web copy and don’t want to know or worry about how the end result is achieved.

Sometimes I wonder if, by asking my list of questions, they doubt my skills, because if I was really good, I’d just know, right?

So here’s the way I try to frame it for them. Most people wouldn’t ask a travel agent to plan a vacation without telling her where they wanted to go. Few would expect an architect to design a house with no input from its future residents. And how many brides expect the wedding of their dreams to happen when they hire a wedding planner and then don’t check back in until they’re walking down the aisle?

These examples may be extreme, but they help my clients see that as a professional, I’m here to bring their ideas to life, but the process is a collaboration. Their input is necessary to ensure that the end product meets their needs, and so the questions I ask are essential for me to understand their goals, approach, and style.

You know, as frustrated as my dad often became with my questions, he realized he didn’t like the result when I proceeded without a clear understanding of what he wanted. I hope my clients come to the same realization.