What’s on the iPod: Laundry Room by The Avett Brothers
Yesterday was interesting. Instead of working on projects, I spent much of my day chasing the trash company. Our usual pickup time is Friday, yet Sunday the trash was still here (and not pleasant to be around). We called first thing Monday morning and were told they would come around that day. No explanation why both the trash and recycling were still there, but they did come back around.
However, it’s now Wednesday and where do you think my recycled items are? Right there on the curb where I left them last Thursday night. Nearly a week later, there’s been no movement beyond an errant plastic bottle being pushed around in the wind.
It shouldn’t take six phone calls for a company to deliver on its promise, yet that’s what it took to get to the point we are right now. Frustration is not an emotion you want to instill in your customers, yet this company seems to thrive on that frustration. Remember, these are the same people who chastised me in Sharpie taken to the trash can lid “Out by 6 am!” when I ran it to the curb as I heard the truck coming.
They’ve forgotten who pays them. And they’ve just lost a 26-year customer.
Interestingly, I see similar comparisons between unreliable waste management companies and writers who have the wrong focus. I’ve mentioned this in the past — writers often don’t know their goals or confuse their goals, causing them to spin their wheels or market in ways that misses entirely their targeted audience.
With the unending supply of advice on the Internet, in webinars, and in various how-to books, it’s easy to confuse the goal even further. So let’s apply the BS Litmus Test to our advice, shall we?
When I wrote about the BS Litmus Test back in 2010, it was meant to be a guide for vetting clients and projects. But wouldn’t we love a good measure applied to all that advice? Here’s what I suggest:
The claim. Is it believable? Look at what the blogger/writer is saying. Are the results claimed realistic or even possible? Can you really make $100K in your first year of freelancing with no experience, limited skills and resources, and no connections? Is it possible to walk into a global corporation with a limited resume/portfolio and score their top writing projects?
The between-the-lines messages. I remember reading an interview with a self-proclaimed expert writer who was giving advice about how to publish a book. It took no digging to see what this person was claiming was dispelled in the other statements she’d made: the pay was abysmal, the work unrewarding, and the opportunity was a dead end career wise. However, the writer was going on at length about how other writers could be just as “successful” — a hard case to make since the project fell into this writer’s lap unexpectedly. I’d have a hard time believing this person’s “How to land a published book deal” spiel after reading that admission.
The results. Can the results of these claims be proven? For instance, I’ve seen a few writers over the years announce with great fanfare their attaining their goal of $100K annually. What’s interesting is in all but one of these cases, that announcement was followed by a few caveats (“Of course, I counted my design work in there, as well” or “My wife’s income is included, but she doesn’t really make all that much”). Those caveats negate the claim and the stated results.
Does it fit you? I’ve seen awful advice like “Guest post on only the top blogs!” as ways of getting some name recognition. But if your goal is to gain more technology clients and you’re blogging on writing blogs, who notices (or cares)? Besides, posting on top blogs means you have to have something of value to offer in return for that valuable Internet real estate. And why just top blogs? I’ve had some great success with posts that have appeared on some less popular blogs. What matters in my opinion is the topic and your take.
Is the advice coming at a price? Look, there are some really good writers out there who make a living by teaching other writers how to conduct business. But for every one true professional, there are way too many posers who slap together a quick webinar with recycled advice and charge you through the nose for info you can get free nearly anywhere else. Are you paying for the advice? If so, what do you really know about your expert? It could be the advice is a teaser to try getting you to fork over real cash for the remainder of the info.
Writers, how do you measure the value of the advice you read?
What’s some of the best advice you’ve come across? The worst?
What do beginning writers need to know about the advice they read?
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