Developing new business has become tricky business. If the account isn't right for us, we won't earn money and that's why we are in business, right. This isn't a hobby or trying to make a difference.
Right now the right account means that, unless the meter is running on educating clients or absorbing unusual abuse, doing the work. End of story. The new economy runs on providing a service effectively, not having a wonderful relationship with the client. Most of us entrepreneurs have already learned that through a brutal lesson or two.
So, why do some of us continue with accounts which are not worth the money? Answer: Sunk costs. We are struggling to protect our investment. Ditch that self-defeating behavior and as we become shrewder judges of what accounts we should take we will be investing less in those kinds of follies.
Last week I schlepped to White Plains, New York. The assignment description has been rosy, but not too good to be true. It was to produce what would be the equivalent of a full-time writing position remotely for a design, marketing, and advertising agency Wild Frog Studio.
No newbie at this, I picked up distress signals as soon as I had entered the office of Wild Frog Studio at 1999 Main Street in White Plains. Clearly I was not being screened for that comparable full time position. This was going to be a project, a small one: six media releases for an over-the-counter medication. Over the weekend it got smaller: one press release.
I did the assignment. Then I informed Wild Frog Studio owner Rodica Ceslov, thank you so much for the opportunity but I would no longer be available. End of story.
Is there a way I could have configured that new-account story differently? Boy, have I given that a lot of thought since, between train fare, meals, and print reading matter to consume on Metro North commuter line, the sunk costs, in addition to my time, represented a hit to my pocketbook. In addition, there was the usual agita over feeling foolish to have made such an error of business judgment.
Here's what I could have done differently:
- Clarify before accepting the invitation to meet that the agency was indeed in the market for the full-time copywriter. From that conversation I could have picked up red flags that the odds were not in my favor in being able to secure that kind of volume of work. Yes, we got to hone the skill of speedreading what the prospect's agenda is. That professional could be just a browser not at the point of buying or could be cruising to pick brains. One tactic is to pose specific questions which should have quantitative answers such as: in ballpark terms, could you estimate the hours of work involved if I were to be selected for this account.
- Don't bite so fast. Instead of agreeing to meet in-person, an increasingly less-demanded requirement for pitching for assignments, I could have tried to negotiate an in-depth phone interview. Yes, I could have noted what that in-person sales call would have cost me and be firm in indicating that I could not make that kind of investment so early in the selling process.
- Run due diligence on the prospect. I should have called in the posse to let me know the track record on the agency in dealing with vendors. Shame on me I didn't run a check.
- Don't throw good money after bad. When my gut told me that I had probably wasted my resources I made the dumber-than-dumber kneejerk reaction of investing more. I offered, shame on me, to create a proposal for a blog for Ms. Ceslov. Father forgive me for this crime against myself. Yes, I created the proposal. Fortunately, in new media, execution is everything and ideas don't mean much. Execution is everything because few have down the tone, content and search engine optimization tactics of social media. Here is that proposal Download Proposal for blog for Wild Frog Studio. [Sure, l'm available for similar blog work for you. We can talk about that on the phone.]
The good news is that mistakes provide a gold mine of learning. That's what the new economy is all about, documented WIRED MAGAZINE. Here is that article.