About three and a half years ago, while still working at an agency, I did a small side project for a friend. When the project was done, I had to put together an invoice. And this forced me to pretend, just for the briefest of moments, that I was self-employed.
Mind you, this was something I had never actually considered possible or realistic. Aside from "being a lawyer" and "visiting Branson, Missouri, "owning my own business" was, in fact, the one thing I knew I never would do. I was far too risk-intolerant, not to mention pathologically under-confident.
The next thing I remember is typing "Conk Creative" in the upper left-hand corner of the blank word processing document. I did it without really thinking. And then a strange and magical thing happened. You know that movie-like feeling when you meet someone and instantly feel as though you've known him or her your entire life? It was like that.
"Conk Creative." Just like any story or character, it now existed simply because I typed it.
Six months later, I turned in my resignation letter at the agency. Two weeks after that, I woke up with no clients, no income and no clue. It's difficult to describe how terrifying and liberating that felt. And it's almost disturbing to realize how closely related "fear" and "freedom" are on an emotional level. I felt as though a cliche had been proven correct: There's nothing more terrifying and liberating than walking a tightrope with no net.
But here's the thing: Doors have flung open in the last three years that would have remained shut had I stayed ... let's see, what's the real opposite of self-employed? ... "other-employed." What you realize is that you do have a net below you. It's called "family." It's called "friends." It's called "colleagues." Sometimes it's called "complete strangers" and "people you never thought you'd meet."
I haven't negotiated that rope perfectly, and indeed, the real challenge will always be learning how to maintain balance. Today, I'd just like to say thank you to everyone who has broken my fall and gotten me right back on the rope.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Friday, January 14, 2011
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
How to Dilute a Brand in One Tag Line
I'm sometimes amazed at the number of times I've encountered a brand that seems to want to work against itself. It often goes back to the element of any brand that is most fundamental to its audience, yet most ignored by its owners: the name.
As a hypothetical example, imagine a company called All Things Gardening. You're called in because the company feels like it needs an image facelift, and one of the first things uttered by the sales director is, "We need people to know that we're about more than gardening."
"But you're called 'All Things Gardening,'" you reply.
"Yeah, but nobody thinks about our name anyway, and we don't want to change it."
If you think this sounds extreme, you're right. But you'd be surprised how close to reality it comes. In fact, every morning when I listen to the radio, I hear the most current version of it ... and not from some regional or Mom and Pop company, but from one of the best-known brands in the world: General Motors.
You know the burgeoning world of hybrid and electric cars? Well, you may be aware that GM is in the process of launching its long-awaited, much-vaunted Chevy Volt. The advantage of the Volt is that it's a plug-in electric hybrid vehicle that delivers the petroleum-based equivalency of 93 miles per gallon. Yet every morning on the radio, I hear the words, "sponsored by the new Chevy Volt: it's more car than electric."
Um, what?
It's pretty easy to connect the dots on this. Some market research group or department presented Chevrolet with focus group data showing that people are skeptical about electric cars, because they assume they can't go as fast, don't offer the same amenities and raise more risk of breaking down on the highway than their catalytic cousins. Therefore, the logic goes, we need to "downplay" the electric aspects of the car. Sure, it's called the Volt, but we need to reassure fearful consumers that this car is okay for them to drive.
Wrong, wrong, wrong. If you're presented with credible data that says exactly that, you don't take a "but" approach, you take an "and" approach. The Volt isn't "an electric car, but seriously, it still performs well"; it's "the most powerful electric car on the planet," "the electric car that packs a punch," "the electric car that gives all the power to you."
People know when you're hiding something; don't make it easier for them. I will soon be in the market for a new car, and you can bet that I'm going to give a lot more attention to the Nissan Leaf (because Nissan is embracing its leadership in electric cars) than to the tentative and under-confident Volt.
As a hypothetical example, imagine a company called All Things Gardening. You're called in because the company feels like it needs an image facelift, and one of the first things uttered by the sales director is, "We need people to know that we're about more than gardening."
"But you're called 'All Things Gardening,'" you reply.
"Yeah, but nobody thinks about our name anyway, and we don't want to change it."
If you think this sounds extreme, you're right. But you'd be surprised how close to reality it comes. In fact, every morning when I listen to the radio, I hear the most current version of it ... and not from some regional or Mom and Pop company, but from one of the best-known brands in the world: General Motors.
You know the burgeoning world of hybrid and electric cars? Well, you may be aware that GM is in the process of launching its long-awaited, much-vaunted Chevy Volt. The advantage of the Volt is that it's a plug-in electric hybrid vehicle that delivers the petroleum-based equivalency of 93 miles per gallon. Yet every morning on the radio, I hear the words, "sponsored by the new Chevy Volt: it's more car than electric."
Um, what?
It's pretty easy to connect the dots on this. Some market research group or department presented Chevrolet with focus group data showing that people are skeptical about electric cars, because they assume they can't go as fast, don't offer the same amenities and raise more risk of breaking down on the highway than their catalytic cousins. Therefore, the logic goes, we need to "downplay" the electric aspects of the car. Sure, it's called the Volt, but we need to reassure fearful consumers that this car is okay for them to drive.
Wrong, wrong, wrong. If you're presented with credible data that says exactly that, you don't take a "but" approach, you take an "and" approach. The Volt isn't "an electric car, but seriously, it still performs well"; it's "the most powerful electric car on the planet," "the electric car that packs a punch," "the electric car that gives all the power to you."
People know when you're hiding something; don't make it easier for them. I will soon be in the market for a new car, and you can bet that I'm going to give a lot more attention to the Nissan Leaf (because Nissan is embracing its leadership in electric cars) than to the tentative and under-confident Volt.
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