I love my new sneakers.

I love them so much I couldn’t wait to put them on this afternoon and go walk somewhere…anywhere. Just so I could wear them.

This is a big deal.

Because it’s really difficult for me to find comfortable shoes. I have a wide toe box, a narrow heel, and no arch. I’d resigned myself to a life of bare feet, flip flops, and UGG boots!

But the gym won’t let me in without sneakers and I threw away all my painful pairs—which was every pair—in a spasm of self-care.

So this weekend I went shopping for a great pair of sneakers.

But not a Perfect pair. Because I don’t do that.

Perfection

It’s nuts to seek perfection and expect to find it. At least, it drove me nuts until I tried something else.

Instead of looking for Perfect, I look for a perfect fit: What suits my purpose, my priorities, and my budget at the moment. Which makes sense because what’s perfect for me now may not be perfect for me a year from now…or even 15 minutes from now.

And that’s the thing about Perfect. With everything forever and always changing, Perfect is a perpetually moving target. I’ve got better things to do than chase down something so ephemeral that even when it’s caught it can’t be kept.

So I shop with purpose but without expectation, both skeptical and hopeful, willing to be surprised and also disappointed.

And by knowing what I want, but not what I’m looking for, I find things I never would have imagined.

Like these great sneakers.

Compromise

The thing about them is I went looking for crosstrainers but came home with running shoes.

I don’t run—and won’t unless chased—but my husband said they’d be just the thing. And, indeed, they fit well, have lots of cushion and support, and are so comfy I forget I have them on.

They’re an unfortunate shade of gray with lavender stripes, but how they look doesn’t affect how they work. Color was an easy compromise when they fit my Purpose, Priorities, and Price.

That said, if they’d been neon pink, I wouldn’t have bought them regardless of the rest. If I hate how they look I’ll hate wearing them despite how well they—literally and figuratively—fit.

Because along with everything else that matters most, there’s Preference. So while I could buy a fine pair of pepto-shoes, they’d stay on a shelf in my closet instead of on my feet in the gym. That, or I’d be self-conscious and unhappy on the treadmill.

And so it is with shopping: I can be walking contentedly through Compromise Country and in the next instant I’m feeling real shitty in Sacrifice City.

So I don’t do that.

Governments collapse, economies dissolve, businesses fold, marriages fail, and souls are lost because people don’t realize when they’re settling for too little or giving up too much.

I can’t emphasize enough how important it is to know where compromise ends and sacrifice begins.

Because.

Living a purposeful life requires a lot of shopping.

That is to say, living on purpose requires us to—

• Decide what we want,
• Clarify our priorities,
• Draw lines between what we will and won’t do,
• Honor our preferences, and
• Make choices that align with our intentions.

Or Shop, for short.

So.

We need to Shop for our brilliant business idea.

For the products and services we’ll offer.
And for the customers and clients who’ll buy them.
For the tools that will run our business.
And for the partners and vendors we’ll work with.
And especially for the colleagues and friends that will have our back.

We need to Shop for our car, our clothes, our home, our partner, our friends, and maybe even our faith.

We need to Shop because otherwise we’re just buying, or buying into, the first thing we see.

Or what’s easiest.
Or what’s shiniest.
Or what everyone else is doing.
Or what the cool kids are using.
Or what costs the least. Or costs the most.

And that would mean we’re trusting in impulse, fate, luck, and other people to define our lives.

And we don’t do that.

Right?
.

My husband loves video games.

He used to manage an arcade, in fact, so beeps and bangs are music to his ears and some virtual worlds are as interesting as the real one.

So when he said, “Hey, Babe! Some guy’s gone rogue in Call of Duty!”, I listened carefully for the lesson.

And by golly, it was there.

The Rogue’s Call

In case you don’t have a teenage boy or a geek husband, Call of Duty is this immersive war game where you play a soldier who’s dropped into hostile territory. There’s an endless stream of gunfire while players form teams, defend their positions, protect each other, and kill the enemy.

You know…Man Stuff.

And like many modern video games, Call of Duty can be played online so you’re competing with and against real people rather than digital folks your computer concocts.

So the gameplay is very human, with split-second decisions, unfortunate missteps, unexpected successes, and lots and lots of bullets. As with any battle, it’s very team-oriented…very Us versus Them. I mean, it’s a war. And no one goes into battle by himself.

Except this one guy.

He hops from game to game without a team and, notably, without a gun.

All he uses is one knife and, apparently, he has just one goal: Kill everybody.

And because he wields so little, he moves faster than other players. Instead of trooping across the battlefield, he sweeps through shadows. Rather than confront opponents face-to-face, he sneaks up behind them.

He doesn’t play the Us versus Them game that everyone else is playing. For him, the game is Me versus All Y’all.

And he kills everybody. Everybody.

He has a record-breaking, or at least a record-nudging, number of kills.

And other players are very, very pissed at him.

Why They’re Angry

They’re angry because their tried-and true strategies can’t save them when he’s in the game.

They’re angry because they’ve spent hours of game time earning a massive gun collection.

They’ve studied the advantages and limitations of each weapon.

They’ve crafted technique to carefully take aim for the perfect killshot.

They’ve assembled the optimal team.

But this guy has no thoughtfully curated collection. No interest in weaponry. No patiently honed craft. No concept of teamwork.

And he beats them every friggin’ time.

He’s not beating them because he has the best collection of weapons. He has one knife.

He’s not winning because he has the most firepower. He has one knife.

And he doesn’t play with a top team. He’s all by himself.

He doesn’t win because he’s tougher, stronger, bigger, badder.
He wins because he’s relentless, agile, swift, and wily.

As you’d guess, he ain’t popular. But he is much admired. And also much despised.

Because when the game is over, he’s consistently at the top of the scoreboard.

Winning the Rogue’s Way

We can appreciate the other players’ frustration, right? He’s not the better player. They’re not losing through inferior play.

They’re losing because everyone moves within the same virtual environment, but he’s playing an entirely different game.

And yet it is very much the same game. He has access to the same weapons, is bound by the same rules, and has the same risks—when he isn’t stealthy or quick enough, he ends up just as dead as anyone else—and he has the same primary objective as everyone else: Survive.

What’s different is what he’s willing to do to win—

• By working alone, there’s no energy spent protecting others, he can focus on himself,
• By carrying a light weapon, he can move so quickly it’s easier to both defend and attack,
• By not committing to a single game, he can hop around and collect more kills in an hour than others collect all evening, and
• By not taking the game too seriously, or caring what others think of him, he’s free of all expectations.

He almost always wins. He leaves other players in tears. And he’s damned unapologetic about it.

Other players see how successful he is, but there don’t appear to be any copycats. They hate/love/envy his success, but don’t want to play like him to achieve it. They’d rather savor their craft, exchange gunfire, and enjoy the camaraderie.

They want to play the game, while he wants to win it.

So.

If you think any of this article was about a video game, scroll to the top and read it again ;-)

And.

We’re in business, right? We share a battlefield, have access to the same weapons, and the FTC makes the rules. That said—

What game are you playing? Are you sure?

Who, or what, is on your side? Who, or what, is the enemy?

Are you playing to play, or playing to win?

And are you striving for a bigger gun, more ammo, and perfect aim
when what you really need is to
travel light and fight fast with a sharper knife?

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I want an iPad. Badly.

But as super-freaking-cool as it is, I can’t justify the expense — and oh, how I have tried — so it remains an I Wanna and not an I Gotta.

There was a time when I would have pulled out my credit card and paid for it with interest, month by month.

But…

…this is not that time. Stealing from my future is a habit I’ve, thankfully, broken.

This is the time I decided to (gasp) save up for what I wanted, and I bypassed the techno-ease of automatic transfers for the manual old school method: a piggy bank. With a sticker on it.

Yes, I’m 12 years old again. And it’s great to have something fun to look forward to, day by day.

Funny thing…

I started out by saving stray bills…a buck here, a fiver there. And after a month I pulled out the cashwad to see how close I was. The grand total?

Not close. At all.

So I picked a date in the near future (my birthday) and how much I still needed (a lot) and then poked at my calculator to find: I needed to stick $57 in the pig every week to get what I wanted, when I wanted it.

And so I do. Week by week.

And I’m re-learning what I’ve been taught a zillion times before:

Anything worth having is worth waiting for.

Not done by the end of the day.

Not finished by tomorrow.

Not get-it-now-interest-free-for-90-days.

Wait and work. Work and wait.

An unpopular, yet true, view…and there’s proof everywhere that the results are worth it—

…

I watched Think Vitamin video tutorials every evening last week to refresh my CSS skills. I learned a heckuvalot in just a few hours because they worked a heckuvalot over most of a year. They built their mighty (and mighty helpful) learning library video by video.

Working on the Blog More, Stress Less sales page snapped me back into blogging mode. As I edited and tweaked, I remembered Laurie nudging our class to approach blogging as the execution of a craft…not a pasttime or an indulgence. Or a reflex. Or an obligation. But as thoughtful, care-full writing that respects our readers and earns their trust, post by post.

And as I prowl through 5 years of Before & After back issues for color palettes, techniques, and sparkles of ideas, I see their reputation for practical, notable DIY designs was built the hard way—page by page.

So.

Yeah, I’ve learned the lesson. But I didn’t live it until I began paying the pig.

And ya know what? It’s not about having a flawless plan, doing it with unwavering regularity, or even enjoying it all the time. But it is about taking the time to think through a plan, and then having the energy to follow it through to the end.

It’s also about the Wait between the Work, which is a fine time to totally change our minds or make a tiny change in direction, to recenter ourselves or just reevaluate our position.

Heck…it’s worth a Wait to see if we want something today as badly as we did three months ago. Or to give time for something better to come along—like the iPad 2, huzzah!

And ya know what else?

Sometimes it’s about mastering impatience and seeing it for what it truly is: lackmindedness masquerading as urgency, feeding the fear that if we don’t get what we want right now it will escape us forever, that an opportunity is being lost that will never come again, and that we’ll nevereverever have what we want most. Not ever.

And yeah, sure…sometimes it’s about working hard and fast to stay ahead of the game, our fear, and maybe the bills. It’s definitely about that, sometimes.

But sometimes it’s about earning what we want day by day. Week by week. Video by video. Post by post. Page by page.

Sometimes, it’s about taking the long view…and the slow satisfaction of paying the pig.

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My Ego is pitching a fit.

You wouldn’t believe the tirade that’s been going on in my head. It’s slamming doors and emptying drawers and breaking up all the plates. One moment it’s pouting, the next moment it’s pleading, and later on it’s threatening all kinds of horrors. Sheesh!

And all because I’ve found good-paying work to do—and maybe plenty of it.

You’d think this would be a good thing, right? I mean, I’m happy, my hubby’s happy, and my clients are happy…we’re all smiling and slapping high-fives.

My Ego, however, is throwing a tantrum because my work is completely invisible. Actually, the work is quite visible, but I am way in the background…which means Ego loses out.

There will be never be prizes or awards or achievement certificates for this work. No parade, no time on Oprah, no cover of Forbes or Fast Company or Inc. When I tell people what I do, they’re not going to light up with a smile and say, “Wow! That’s interesting…”, then lean in to hear more about it. It’s simply not that kind of work.

It’s digital scutwork. It’s routine, it’s methodical, it’s predictable…and I love it.

To my Ego, it’s worthless.

But to my Self, it’s priceless.

And to the people I work for, it’s important.

I’m not gonna even tell you exactly what it is, because that’s not the point.

This Is The Point:

When you’re thinking about doing something new or different,

Put everything on the table.

Here’s why…

Months ago I overheard Michele Woodward say, “…before making that decision, I put everything on the table,” and because what she then came up with was totally brilliant, the phrase stuck with me.

So when I started making a plan for next year, I went for brilliant and put everything on the table. And I mean everything.

I stacked up products I’ve finished, products I haven’t yet finished, and products I haven’t started. I piled up the hodgepodge of services I offered this year. I sprinkled on the 40 domain names I have waiting on ice.

I added getting a job, finishing my degree, dropping this blog, revisiting old projects, and selling all our stuff to start fresh in a different city…everything was heaped on the table. And then I started sifting through it.

After awhile I spotted some work I did for a friend. It was nothing big, just a bunch of tiny projects…each took less than an hour. They didn’t require a lot of thinking because they were all routine tasks…menial stuff…scutwork.

The work did absorb my attention, though, and had the fussing about with details that I like to do. Darned satisfying. And fun. And it paid well enough.

Huh.

I’d never really looked at it that way before. Really.

Before long, my once-advertised research services were pushed aside, along with 28 of those 40 domains names and all those sweeping lifestyle changes. Only a few products and projects were left, with the scutwork gleaming in the middle of it all.

And then my Ego spoke up, sputtering and drawling with discontent, disbelief, and dissent—

This is just scutwork. It was enjoyable and satisfying, sure, but this isn’t serious work.
You have work experience that surpasses this.
You have an education.
This work isn’t brainy enough for you.
It’s preposterous to consider this as a business.
You were meant for better and bigger things.
You could never get enough clients to make a living at it…
…I mean, who else would need that kind of help?

Who indeed.

I asked around with a few emails and a phone call. Within a week I found five people interested in sending me work. FIVE. Two of them were quite excited, and one is absolutely ecstatic.

Apparently, the work I find so satisfying is something many people are sick of doing and can’t wait to hand over to someone else.

Who. Knew.

So.

As you look toward next year, heed that overheard advice from Michele and put everything on the table. Take a full inventory. You can’t imagine what might shake out as Your Next Great Thing.

Really. You can’t.

And don’t sweat it if Your Next Great Thing doesn’t appear to be all that great. Ignore your Ego and listen to your heart, your gut, and your Self.

I mean, the work I’m planning for next year isn’t glamorous or prestigious, and yet…

My clients are excited.

My husband is amused.

My heart is happy.

My gut is content.

My Self is thrilled.

My Ego is pissed, true…

…but my Spirit resonates with Mother Teresa’s words:

“We cannot do great things on this Earth, only small things with great love.”

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I love confident extroverted people…they keep things simple. Their all-purpose advice for getting a new job, getting a date, or getting customers is—

Put yourself out there.

Oh wait…sorry. I forgot the best part. They actually say—

Just put yourself out there.

As if the emotional risk in introducing yourself to strangers is manageable, as if asking for what you want is easy-peasy, as if putting yourself Out There is no big deal.

And for a people-person, those things are indeed a piece of cake. But for me?

Not so much.

Shy like me

Don’t let this blog and my Twitter chatter fool you…I’m introverted, shy, wary of strangers, and hate being the center of attention. I avoid very small parties (where I can’t stay anonymous) and very large parties (where I’m overwhelmed by the crowd).

Safe to say, you’ll likely never see me at SXSW, in a video post, giving a TEDx talk, or doing a television interview. It’s how I am, it’s who I am, and I’ve always been this way. I could uproot my personality and alter it, but after 35 years and a dollop of self-acceptance, I’m good with it.

However.

Some of the people-people I know are way interested in transforming me. I’m to be a confident speaker. An earnest hand shaker. A vocal, public, just-put-it-out-there kind of person.

I appreciate the thought, and entertain it at times, but it ain’t gonna happen.

They mean well, but people-people can be like happily married friends who feel unattached friends must be lonely, rather than contentedly—and maybe intentionally—alone. They’re eager to schedule blind dates when, really, the loners are fine as they are. Really.

But hooking up is personal and business is…business. We could move through life happily without a spouse, but a business without customers is soon out of business.

So if we’re going to build an empire, host a global community, or gather a thousand true fans, shy folks (like me) need to get over it, get some backbone, and just put themselves out there!

Except we don’t.

Hand Puppet Marketing

During my interview with Karen from Square-Peg Reflections, an idea happened. As we discussed how I’d do—or get out of doing!—a short speech before 60+ people, Karen jokingly mentioned a hand puppet as an intermediary.

Wasn’t that a fabulous idea!?

Okay, well not literally.

I mean, I’m excited about what I’m doing, have things to say, and want my business to grow…but I don’t wanna put myself out there to do it. I would love for someone, or something, to do the talking for me. And, when you think about it, lots of proven marketing methods keep folks at arm’s length. For example —

The Other People Puppet

Are you surrounded by loving friends who are natural salespeople? Get them excited about what you’re doing and they’ll gladly spread the word.

Do you know people who know people? Be sure to tell them, too. They’re not the kind to shout from rooftops, but they’ll surely connect the right people to you.

No extroverted friends? No problem. You can pay people-people to sell for you. But rather than hire sales staff, pay commissions after the transaction with win-win affiliate marketing. That way you’re never out-of-pocket…payments only go out after money comes in.

The Social Media Puppet

The Internet is the secret weapon of shy people and introverts. We always have distance for when we need space and can walk away from the computer when we need silence. And unlike real-time dialogue, we can take time to think through responses and set our own pace for conversations.

For example, Facebook and Twitter can be overwhelming, neverending conversations, but they don’t have to be. You can use them solely to showcase your events, articles, and products. That’s atypical behavior, though, so let followers know not to expect your reply.

And blogging doesn’t have to be as personal (or interpersonal) as some make it. You can be interesting, entertaining, or informative without revealing more about yourself than you’re comfortable with. You don’t have to respond to comments, or even accept them, if you don’t want to. But again, make sure readers know what not to expect from you.

The Tech Connect Puppet

And if you’re okay with talking to folks real-time but not face-to-face, welcome to 2010! You can easily (and affordably) use a telephone to host a teleseminar with a few, dozens, or hundreds of attendees. Or you can visually train, teach, or demonstrate products for just about anyone—anywhere in the world—with a webinar.

So.

If you don’t want to put yourself out there, you don’t have to. Really.

And if you do want to put yourself out there, but need to work up to it? You can build your confidence from a distance.

And heck, you might want to try some hand puppet marketing even if you aren’t shy. Like me. :-)

The Money is in the List

That’s old news, right?

Gurus, both genuine and alleged, have been saying for years that “the money is in the list”. And so we collect email addresses to build a list of people interested in hearing from us.

And it works. Our emails roll out, and—as long as we offer the right thing  to the right people at the right time with the right price—their money rolls in. That’s why there are heaps of ebooks, systems, teleseminars, bootcamps, and other digital hoopla on email list building.

But relatively few gurus go beyond list building to talk about list mining. Which is a shame…because that’s where the rest of the money is.

Two Things About List Mining

List mining is exactly what it sounds like—digging through the everyday ore of a list to find the gems: special people to offer special stuff.

But just like we probably won’t find diamonds by digging in our backyard, it’s wasted effort to search our general mailing list for anything special.

For one thing: You can’t mine what you don’t have. Obvious, but worth mentioning because I’ve had employers and clients demand reports on data they didn’t collect. Duh.

In this case, a general subscriber list doesn’t have enough detail to mine. We might have a subscriber’s first name, but odds are we only have their email address and sign-up date. Those are great for determining the growth of our influence over time, but not for much else.

Another thing: You need to ask your questions where the answers are. Another obvious one, but important to note. Like, if we’re wondering what product to offer next, who is better to ask: a list of subscribers who’ve only promised to listen or a list of customers who’ve proven that they’ll buy?

It’s smart to ask either group, or both, but while the current subscribers can tell you what they’d like to see, only your past customers are qualified to tell you what they’ll likely buy.

The Good News and the Bad News

The good news is — If you sell products online through PayPal or another payment processor, you’ve already got a detailed list of sales you can mine for profitable answers to well-formed questions.

The bad news is — If you don’t sell products through PayPal, your sales data may be tricky to get to and even trickier to read, you might have to wait for it, and you might have to pay for it. Which isn’t really bad news…it’s more like inconvenient-and-sucky news.

Really good news for PayPal users — 1) it’s easy to get to your sales data whenever you want, 2) you can read it with tools you already have, and 3) it’s totally free.

Finding the Rest of the Money: Step 1 of 2

It starts with downloading a list of transactions from PayPal. It’s super easy, but the result isn’t something you’d want saved on a public workstation (like at a library or an Internet cafe), so only do this on your personal computer—

1. Log into PayPal.com.
2. Under My Account in the main menu, click History.

3. On the History screen, click the CSV link at the top right of the transaction table. The Download your activity window will appear.

4. For Choose the file type, select Comma delimited – Completed Payments. Click the Download button and wait.

.

What you see next will depend on which browser you’re using, but you’ll be prompted to either open or save the CSV file. Save it, and then open it using Excel, Google Docs, or whatever you use for spreadsheets.

Voila! A list of your PayPal transactions from the past 30 days.

Tip: For older transactions, change the date range above and click the Show button. Wait for the transaction table to update before clicking the CSV link.

.

Finding the Rest of the Money: Step 2 of 2

First, look at the Gross column. Generally, if the number is negative, that’s money you spent. If it’s not negative, then that’s something someone bought.

Next, look at the other columns  for details on each of those non-negative transactions. You should at least have—

• The name (or company name) of the person who bought something from you,
• The exact date and time they bought it,
• Which product or service they bought,
• How much they paid for it, (along with how much went to PayPal fees, and how much was left) and,
• Their email address

Now. What can you do with that?

What you can do with that

You can sort and filter and total and otherwise futz around to find special collections of people you can serve in a special way. Because after you’ve made sales through your general list…

…that’s where the rest of the money is:
in the list of people who’ve already bought something.

But for the love of Ben & Jerry, don’t be like large charities who presume that a donation means we’ll want to receive a packet every other week. Absolutely do not do that.

It annoys, it’s expensive, it can be counter-productive, and besides, a single purchase doesn’t make a donor or customer particularly special. Valuable and valued, yes, but not special. Like, valued customers get a thank you and a coupon toward their next purchase. But special customers…?

Well, they may get advanced notice, private sales, and surprise gifts. Maybe a personal email. Maybe a handwritten card carried hand-to-hand from your door to theirs by a real-live person—a deliciously tactile and semi-personal service priced at 2 for $1 here in the U.S…it’s called the postal service.

So schedule some time to mine that free and easy list of PayPal transactions you downloaded for customers who rate special attention, like—

• The customer you discover is always the first to buy your products,
• The 10 (or 50) customers who spent the most last month (or last quarter, or last year),
• The 20% of customers who account for 80% of your sales,
• The customers who used to buy all your stuff, then suddenly and inexplicably stopped (!),
• The customers who’ve been with you since the beginning,
• The customers who buy everything you sell, no matter what it is or how much it costs,
• …and on and on.

What you say to them, offer them, or send to them depends on you, your products, and your business. But it’s safe to say that they deserve something.

Right?

Warnings and disclaimers

I would suggest you do not use your newfound list mining powers for evil.

Specifically, verify your email marketing service’s policy on sending email to people who have purchased something from you. It may be that a sale is implied permission for continued contact, but it may not.

In my opinion, I’d say “not” if you’re going to send a large mailing of something general to a unfiltered list of customers. That smells spamalicious.

But what about a very small send of something intensely special and interesting to a select group of customers? Hmm…

It’s still email marketing, for sure, but does the size and nature of the list change the rules? The answer to that question is way out of my scope. That’s between you, your email marketing service, and the FCC  :-D

.

Hope this helps, and (as always) your comments and suggestions are welcome below,

Update/sidenote: I overheard that if our email marketing service tracks who opens emails and who clicks on links, we can create special groups based on their interest (or not) in our mail…a great thought! (hat tip to Ericka Hines)

When I asked y’all what I should do with my long-awaited, much-adored domain: TheIdeaHatchery.com, the first and only thing suggested was a community membership-ish thingie in various forms.

Which was a total surprise.

As I read the comments, I thought, “Really? A community where folks can share and brainstorm ideas? Get and give constructive feedback? Find willing and capable work partners? Really?”

Not that I doubted the fabulousness of your idea, because I didn’t. It’s a complete gem. I doubted I could pull it off, though.

And you can bet I gave my laptop a good talking to, telling it in no uncertain terms that there was no way, no way I could do something like that. I didn’t know how and I didn’t know where to start and I have no experience, no qualifications, and am totally unsuitable.

And then I started working on it.

Community-Building Questions

As always, after my initial resistance the questions started rolling in. I’d rather hear your thoughts than debate my answers, so I’m listing only the questions. If you have answers or comments or more questions, feel free to add them below, k?

Who’s in the community?

In Seth’s November session, he said the first members are critical for any club. I see the truth of that. With that in mind…

1. How many first members should there be?
2. How are the first members selected?
3. What kind of person is good for the start of a community?
4. Is there a cap on how many people will be in the community?
5. Is it open registration, or not?
6. If not, how do you decide who’s in the community and who’s not?
   Application? Invitation? Blackball-ation?
7. If by application—
   Who creates the application? Who reviews submissions? The leader(s), a committee, or someone else?
   Is there an appeals process for someone who doesn’t get in?
8. If by invitation—
   Who does the inviting?
   If members distribute invitations, how many people can each member invite?
   Do members simply get invites, or do they earn them through participation or tenure or something else?
9. Will anyone outside the community know the community exists?
   I mean, is it meant to be a secret?
10. Will anyone outside the community know who’s in the community?
    I mean, is membership a secret?
11. Will what’s discussed within the community get outside the community?
    I mean, are the discussions a secret?
12. What happens if the community reaches capacity?
13. If there’s a waiting list, how long will the waiting list be allowed to get and for how long will it be maintained?
14. On the other hand, what happens if the community doesn’t grow?

Where’s the value?

As I understand the roles, the community leader encourages members to participate by creating a fun and engaging environment. They always provide the venue, but they may also create site content, introduce discussion topics, organize subgroups around special interests, and coordinate events and speakers.

Members support the community with their participation and feedback, and sometimes membership fees and management duties. So…

1. Will there be a fee to participate in the community?
2. If there will be a membership fee—
   How much will the membership fee be?
   Will it be paid monthly, annually, both, or something else?
   Will profits be shared with community members? How will it be distributed?
3. If the community is free—
   How will expenses be paid for?
   Who volunteers their time to manage the community? The leaders, the members, or both, or someone else?
4. What do the community members want?
   Exclusive content, the connection to others like them, or both, or something else?
5. Who is the community valuable to?
   I mean, is it large enough, niche-y enough, and/or compelling enough to attract more members, good press, interesting speakers, etc.?
6. How are you going to keep members interested month after month after month?
   Discussion topics? Videos? Contests? Tutorials? White papers? Chats? Book clubs? Teleseminars?
7. Who creates the community’s content?
   The leader(s), the members, or both, or someone else?
8. How often will new content be published?
   Weekly? Daily? More than once a day?
9. Does the content need to be approved before it’s published?
   If so, who’s responsible for creating the guidelines and approving content?
   Is there an appeals process for denied content?

Administrivia

And then there are other critical bits, like—

1. What platform do you build your community on?
   WordPress with a plugin or something else self-hosted?
   Ning or something else hosted…or what?

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Whew! Okay, that’s all I’ve got at the mo’. I’ll add more if I think of more, and I’d love to hear your questions, answers, and thoughts below. Or if you’d rather keep it between us, email a note to crystal [at] bigbrightbulb [dot] com

When I wrote on trying everything, there were ideas to:

Repurpose your blog posts into an ebook, with some new bits to freshen them up

Read your posts aloud for an audiobook, or have them read aloud for you

And I did exactly that last week. Whenever I needed a break from product research, I recycled our favorite Big Bright Bulb articles into audios and a PDF. And it was darned cool in lots of ways:

• Cool to work with the other side of my brain,
• Cool to make something I can share (research is always so sooper sekrit),
• Cool to create a product that’s small (which the Shopping Cart Guide in-progress is not)

And best of all:

• Cool to fiddle with stuff I had on hand instead of starting from scratch
  

Using content I already had left me free to enjoy making the container, ya know?  Believe the hype. It is way satisfying to revisit your old stuff to make new stuff.

You might enjoy it, too, so here are 3 ways I’m recycling content for sale, plus some tips and ideas—

Compile and compose an ebook

I first saw this when Leo compiled a bunch of posts into Zen to Done. The notable bit? He added FAQs and links and resources and forms and commentary that wasn’t on the blog. So while it was more convenient than website reading, I feel like the (very reasonable) price is for the extras.

The next notable was Darren’s 31 Days to Build a Better Blog from his month-long challenge series. To me, convenience was everything for that one. For 65¢ a day I can print it out, jot notes, and check things off without sidebar ads blinking at me. Totally worth the money.

From those guys, I’d guess the keys to selling blog content as an ebook are—

• Emphasize convenience (especially for a series)
• Inject new, exclusive content
• Include relevant extras and resources
• Make it pretty (and maybe even printable)
• Price it under $20

BBB Radio 1 has two new posts not published online, useful links, highlights my favorite comments, looks pretty good, and it’s $16. Here’s a sneak peek:

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Record yourself reading aloud

This isn’t something I see folks doing, but I sure wish they would. My iPhone is stuffed with MP3s of courses and teleseminars, but they’re 30-90 minutes and sometimes I just want a taste…like, 5-10 minutes.

For me, recording a read is only a few extra steps because I read every post aloud while I edit it. But I’m not a pro by any stretch, so I was hugely grateful for Christy’s PDF on getting good sound and her sound editing series when I set out to do this.

I considered having someone else narrate it because, like many people, I don’t much like hearing my voice. But I figured it’s worth a try…while we’re out here trying everything ;-)

From my experience over the weekend, my tips for recording your blog are—

• Rehearse, even though you know every word you wrote
• Relax, you’re talking to your friends, so have fun with it!
• Smile, because we can hear it in your voice
• Edit loosely, an um or ah means your human
• Follow the advice at Online Sound Advice

Et tu?

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Every once in a while, someone asks me:

If you’re so smart, why aren’t you rich?

My gut says the question is about doubting my intelligence—or their own—and isn’t really a question about money. I never have the nerve to sass back with a: “How do you know that I’m not?” Instead, I shrug with a: “Guess I’m not smart about money,” and that satisfies them.

But it doesn’t satisfy me.

So the Asker walks away with a sensible answer to their asshole question, but I continue to ask myself….

If I’m so smart, why aren’t I rich?

Well, for one thing (I tell myself) what’s with the presumption that being rich is a natural consequence of being smart? I’ve met smart people with little money and rich people as dense as a brick. So I don’t see this direct correlation between intelligence and wealth.

Which satisfies my logic, but for days afterward my psyche rides waves of defensiveness and anxiety:

What is ‘rich’ anyway? What does it even mean?

Why would I want to be rich?

But…why aren’t I rich?

Maybe I’m not as smart as They say I am?

What am I missing?

What am I doing wrong?

Could I be rich?

Should I be rich?

What is ‘rich’ anyway? What does it even mean?

‘Round and ’round…cyclic waves of defense and doubt crashing in my head.

And then I found the answers (there are two). And smart has nothing to do with it.

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1. I’m not rich because I’ve been scared of money

Please note the semi-past tense. I’m mostly done being scared, but I’m still not rich in money. Am I rich in friends, love, and ideas? Yes! In money? Not so much…

How I discovered my fear of *having* money

I listened to Dolf de Roos, a real estate guy, who suggests we carry a bundle of cash at all times. Like, $1,000 in our wallet. Not to spend, just to have and hold. He says we should do that…and if we don’t or won’t do that, why not?

Interestingly, our reason for not carrying around a chunk of cash can be the reason we don’t have as much money as we’d like. For me, I don’t carry it around because I’m afraid I’ll lose it, or someone will take it from me. Which is telling, yes?

How I discovered my fear of *receiving* money

Far more telling was the very first Heart of Money exercise, where we visualized money in whatever form and imagined it coming uncomfortably close to our heart.

I stood in my kitchen—I was listening to the MP3 while cleaning up—and did just that. I grounded myself with some deep breathing and imagined a stack of bills easing its way to my chest…

…and I stepped back and put my hands up to keep it away.

I didn’t do this in my imagination, I physically did this. And I didn’t do it in a lighthearted thanks-but-no-thanks kind of way. I put one foot back in a pseudo-combat stance with palms out to defend myself. Seriously.

Which was a powerful lesson. More powerful than any person, class, or life experience had taught me. I learned plenty more lessons in Heart of Money, but that’s another post.

So I’m aware of and resolving my fear of having and receiving money. The other answer is…

2. And because I’ve been driven by emotion, not logic

I recently listened to a teleseminar where the speaker spoke about emotions and money. How shopping feels good, but if we don’t need things, then we’re spending money for a feeling we can have for free. In the moment, there’s no logic to our actions or decisions, just feeling.

That sounds right. And it explains why I’m fat, too. Spending money feels good. Eating a slice of cake feels even better. Comparatively, saving money feels meh. Eating a salad is more meh.

Spending and snacking feels good now, but not so good later. Saving and eating well feels meh now, but feels awesome later.

My mind makes great plans and my heart has great intention, but in the decision-making moments I’ve been choosing to feel good now and not giving a flying flip about how I’ll feel later.

So.

I’m working on this one action and decision at a time. And it helps to remove all the content and just look at the container.

It’s all about short-sightedness versus the long view. And the ancient tug-of-war between what we feel and want versus what we think and know.

It’s that simple.

Et tu?

Are your actions driven by what you know is good for the long run or what feels good right the hell now? In the decision-making moment, are you thinking or feeling?

And what do you know to do that you don’t do because you just don’t friggin’ feel like it? And how is that hurting you, both now and later?

Some things to chew on.

(and if you’re up for it, share your thoughts in the comments)

Photo credit: Neubie

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You know my low tolerance for bullshit. And my even lower tolerance for whining.

(and you also know to pluck me in the head when I do either of those things. Twice if I do both at the same time.)

So when someone comes to me with a list of “reasons” why they can’t start a tiny business of their own? I’m. Not. Having it.

In fact, I shoot down their big and little buts—that’s not a typo, btw—like so much skeet.

How I Shoot People in Their Buts

When someone says: But I don’t have enough time, I say:

Go read Dave Navarro’s More Time Now. Pages 8-12, specifically. But do read the whole thing. Twice.

When someone says: But I don’t have enough money, I say:

Scratch up some cash to buy Chris Guillebeau’s Working For Yourself Guide or scratch up a little more to participate in his $100 Business Forum.

And if they say: But I only have $20, I say:

You only need $8 for your own domain name, you can host your website for free and then attach your domain name for $10. That’s per year, but next year you’ll have no problem coming up with the $18. Or you can save $1.50 each month to be sure.

Or if they say: But I don’t have any cash at all, I say:

Skip the while domain name thing and just go with the free website.

When someone says: But I’m scared shitlesss, I say:

Go read Naomi’s What to Do When You’re Scared Shitless.
Also read Havi’s Blogging Therapy series.

When someone says: But I don’t have any good ideas, I say:

Go read Seth Godin’s take on Big Ideas, Fear of Bad Ideas, and why You Should Write an eBook.
Also read my Whattaya Whattaya Whattaya post.

When someone says: But I need inspiration, I say:

Read my Pep Talks.
Read Willie’s blog (and follow Willie on Twitter).
And read Kyle’s blog (and follow Kyle on Twitter).
And read Charlie’s blog (and follow Charlie on Twitter, too).
And also follow Desiree Adaway and Susan Cosmos and Philip Arnold for inspirational quotations.

When someone says: But I have a soul-sucking job from which there is no escape, I say:

Sure there is. Go read Pam Slim’s Escape from Cubicle Nation blog (especially the comments!) and her book and also follow her on Twitter.

When someone says: But I don’t have any equipment, I say

Does your local library have public computers with Internet access?
Or if you have a desk job, can you come in early, stay late, and/or lunch in to stealthily run your business from your office computer?
Can you beg or borrow a computer?
Can you beg or borrow time on a friend or family member’s computer?

When someone says: But I don’t have enough space, I say:

Can you work at a Panera, Borders, Barnes & Noble, or any other place with (or near) a free Wi-Fi Internet connection?
And if you want less noise, more privacy, or simply need to be at home, you can set up an office there. And yes, you have enough space. You can fit a workspace on a small shelf, or on an even smaller shelf, or in a cabinet that hangs on the wall (like I do).

When someone says: But I just don’t know, I say:

Along with all the other reads I’ve told you about, read the rest of my blog. Read Cath Duncan’s Agile Living. And read Marissa’s blog. And definitely read Mark Silver’s blog. And read Seth’s blog every day.

And if they have any more excuses?

I let them have them. Seriously.

Because at that point it’s clear they need their excuses more than they need my recommendations.

And that’s not because I’m out of resources or ideas (that almost never happens), but because I’m damned sure out of patience by then (which happens a bit more often ;-) ).

Et tu?

What excuses do you hear (or have!) for not starting a little business? What do you say in response?

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Photo credit: fotologic