Poll: Marketing the marketing poll I'm marketing

Is your dream marketable?

"I'm a writer," I told him. He asked; I answered. Then came the inevitable did-I-hear-that-right expression. "And you get a paycheck for that?" he asked. "Nah," I said, "I just live on the land, foraging for wild berries and sleeping in trees." In between fishing streams with my feet, I do things like this.

Is your business missing this fundamental ingredient?

People, God love 'em, are great. Yes? You know I love 'em. Unless they run into me with their Wal-Mart shopping carts, then I have only lukewarm feelings.

When people have ideas and stamina and passion and gumption and charisma and heavily-gelled hair, gosh darn it if I don't get thrilled to be a part of making them successful. It's what I do. I give them a voice. I craft their words. And I rarely slip a "gosh darn" in the bunch.

I save the hick slang solely for myself.

In my fury to promote them, I forget an existential need that no business can live without, including mine: self promotion! I promote businesses for a living. Yet I fail miserably at promoting myself.

Who me? Why do you need to know about me? Or what I've been doing? Actually, maybe you do. Maybe you - yeah, I'm looking at you, not literally of course, but go with that uncomfortable thought anyway - need me.

Why? Because, like me, it's time for you to promote yourself.

Here's a mini-story to illustrate my point:

The other day, whilest sitting in the midsteth of a brilliant media client, we hit the subject of self-promotion, namely himself. In half an hour, we had brainstormed for a mutual client and he had shared with me creative ideas tipped in gold.
Oil, that is. Black gold. Texas tea.
When I asked if he shared these ideas through blogging or a newsletter or Facebook posts, he told me a line I hear so very often, "I need to, but when do I have the time?" He went on to explain how his ideas might be stellar (and they are) but communicating them effectively...well, that's a struggle. 
"Ahh," I told him, "if only you knew a great written communicator."

Do I write business copy for his clients? Yes I do! But, just like me, he focuses on them and not on himself. It never occurred to him I could help him, too. That his creative business needed a creative copywriter. That for a fraction of the time it took him, he could farm out the work and get exactly what he wanted without all the strain on his time.

He could focus on what he does best, which makes him money, while I toil away ensnaring new unsuspecting clients for him with words that can weave a spell or a decent bath mat. Partnership in heaven? That might be overselling myself a bit. Let's just say "10,000 feet above sea level" and call it good.

And what does he get? To be promoted! But with style - his. To make a carbon copy of himself, basically, and then upload writing talent into the clone and give the glob a keyboard.

That's not exactly what I am. But I'm close. I'm very, very close.

In a world top heavy with written communication - emails and Facebook statuses and blogs and texts and newsletters and tweets - it's no wonder your typing speed can't keep up.

But I can help.

The Unsalesman: a new twist

Come for the Jeeps. Stay for the handwriting analysis.

A new marketing angle?

Not exactly. But it worked. And, in business, shouldn't we do anything - legitimately, that is - if it works?

Here's the back story: I was roaming the South Point Chrysler Jeep Dodge dealership late one evening. This was after I'd dropped my own vehicle off at the service station and before my ride had arrived. I knew I shouldn't look at the new Jeeps. You don't frequent bakeries when on a low-carb diet, either. But I did it anyway.

Dain found me near a crimson beauty. Four doors and all for me. She hummed at me. I heard her. When he asked me if I wanted to take her for a test drive, I did the responsible thing and refused.

Yeah right.

If she hummed sitting idly, she sang like a siren on the highway.

When we returned, Dain offered to get me some numbers for me to obsess and wallow and fixate over, although he phrased it as "think about". That's when, as I began filling out the paperwork, he told me about his hobby of handwriting analysis. Hobby? I needed to see this.

With a sheet of paper and a scratchy pen, I scribbled out a page of blather and turned it over to him. From two paragraphs he could see that I:

- deeply valued my personal space
- generally hid my emotions
- could, at times, be quite gullible
- had a general optimistic tone
- nearly always went my own way
- valued physical things, from the outdoors to physical health
- and, once making up my mind, stuck to it.

"You got that from two paragraphs?" I've had lifelong friends know less.

My accidental wandering had actually led to a unique, memorable experience. Why? Because he had me not focusing on my finances but instead focusing on myself. Was this his sale's technique? His marketing mojo? To get the customer thinking about the customer, and then get that customer thinking about the customer and his product.
And then marry them.

My personal space would fit nicely inside that new Jeep.

Had he thrown in a cup of fresh fruit, I would have signed the papers and indebted myself with glee. It was quite remarkable. Testing driving a vehicle had gone from a technical experience to a personal journey.

It works for Dain. That's him marketing himself, whether he realizes it or not. It carved a niche. How can you forget a car salesman with a shtick like that?

Answer: You don't.