Shouldn't this be happening a little faster, already? (author by Chellise Michael Photography |... [+]
It's been a nutty seven weeks. Since getting to shake Warren Buffett's hand, things have been a whirlwind. My company, MarketSmiths, continues to be busy, and as a result, we've hired two new copywriters, including our first Brit, doing her own personal Brexit on a J-1 visa. We've outgrown WeWork even sooner than I’d dreamed and moved to our own dedicated offices—a cool, creative space back in our original neighborhood: Williamsburg, Brooklyn. (Want to get happy? Decorate an office! Every new color or rug suggestion that arrives from my designer sends me into a foolish little spasm of joy.)
We've also blown through this confounding sweet spot dilemma to settle on a simple market niche: clients that believe in the value proposition of high-quality copywriting—and are willing to invest heavily in high growth through content. Although not all of them have gone for content marketing packages (yet), the shift in how we're thinking about this feels great.
That's the good news. The flip side? Despite (and maybe because of) our continual crush of work, the revenue meter has had us holding steady all year, disrupting the accelerating-boulder, steroid-fueled growth streak I'd assumed was unstoppable. What?! This was supposed to be our best year! Instead, it's the year our sales are up not 80 percent, as expected, but a measly five. And although that's flat (not falling), it still caused me to freak out, wondering if this is all I have in me, if my goals, which I've openly published, are but a stupid pipe dream. For weeks, fear didn't just rear its head, it took charge, shoving me out of bed at 5 a.m., eating my confidence for breakfast and bullying me into thinking I was either bored or "done." Jeez. I'm pretty sure this isn't how Olympic athletes win gold medals.
When enough was enough, I did a force-quit. With the help of books, the Beach Boys and the words of Michelle Obama, who wouldn't take guff, I've since hit reset, and reminded myself that there's not a bump in the road that can stop us from getting the scale of business our work merits. That stomp you hear? It's the moist, happy squish of a million excuses, under my sandaled heel.
Let me back up. Like many business owners, we have been entirely dependent on closing leads that come our way. With the usual word-of-mouth referrals, plus the stream of people that find us online and fill this out, the process has been wholly reactive, leading to a false sense of passivity. As content marketers, Google leads furnish bragging rights for MarketSmiths. But the downside is now also clear: passivity is a sales crutch, bringing with it a deplorable lack of choice about clients, a feast or famine helplessness and the real tragedy of not knowing what I'm really capable of (roar). After all, isn't that at heart why so many of us are entrepreneurs—to test our mettle and come out swinging?
Also, when things have been in 'feast' mode, I've pitched in to take on new projects: a show stopper for growth. Like my friend Richard Levychin says, "that's like making money to lose money." Amen.
With the help of a terrific sales coach, I started conducting our first official sales outreach effort. I figured out that for every company that knows they need us are 40,000 more that need us, too—and just haven't met us yet. The efforts are still new, but half of the emails have produced positive responses (which seems very good). Reaffirmed, I felt the fear dissolving...and remembered.
I remembered how lucky we are as a service startup to have powerful metrics of our value. I remembered that our work—along with all other copywriting companies worth their salt—has universal relevance, that it's a continuous wellspring for sharpening our skills and strategies. I remembered that copywriting and content marketing are still a growth industry, and damn if I'm not going to be the one to set its further trajectory.
Ultimately, I think fear is just a sign that you're playing outside your comfort zone. It might feel scary to be going from passivity to proactive progress, but it's still more of a kick in the ass than inertia. Stay tuned, will you? The next post shall herald a crisp new direction.
- When was the last time you freaked out about your business? How did it feel? What did you do to get rid of the demons?
- If you're one of those people not prone to freaking out, tell me more. What on earth is your secret?
- Ever come out of a funk—even a little one—with ten times more energy and drive than when you went in? How did you do it?
