Ready, maestro?

I got in the car yesterday to go to the post office. As a regular community member over at BookMooch, I had a moocher who was waiting on a novel I’d recently finished. I live in an wee town in Virginia on the skirts of a metro area. This should not be any kind of production whatsoever…less than 5 minutes to the post office, tops. (Plus, I’m an impatient person, so…there’s that.)

I turned out of my development onto the main road where they were doing road work. Nothing big, one of those little buggy deals that punches squares into the asphalt (or is it concrete?) so they can insert the reflectors along the dividing line.

I sat and waited, and I started to get edgy. I watched the Highly Unnecessary Eighty Point Turn of the buggy, orchestrated by a construction guy who had originally stopped me by doing a hand wave while not even turned in my direction. He also had a walkie-talkie that didn’t appear to be getting any use.

Finally, I go on my way. On the way back, it was another annoying experience, but for a different reason.

As I drove toward the site, there was another guy there, but I saw a ray of hope in the situation because he had one of those tall signs. You know the kind “slow” on one side, “stop” on the other.

That’s where the hope ended, as I drove closer and could see him better. I was, by the way, driving closer because his sign had the “slow” turned towards my little car. Then I noticed his hand waving, indicating a stop….while not looking at me.

I stopped, utterly confused. Could I go? Was this a test? Was there a hidden camera looking to see how many citizens would just blow by? I looked around for an answer from the pine trees on either side of me. I looked back at the guy.

No eye contact, no nothing. I didn’t even know if he realized I was there. Maybe he wanted me to go but has a hand tic and I was going to make him feel bad by responding to that and not the friggin’ HUGE orange sign he appeared to be in control of.

As you can see, this was turning into a borderline existential crisis for someone that overthinks things as much as I do.

It’s also a really, really good example of your role with the clients.

You are the conductor.

Your client audience is looking to you for direction. They want a confident recommendation based on the expertise they’re working with you for. Don’t overwhelm them with choices or decisions on services they don’t know anything about. The best way to avoid that is to ask questions initially, and ask a lot of them. The key is to not ask questions about whether they want an email campaign or not. The key is to ask, overall, what they don’t have that they know they need. What struggles are they having? Don’t add to their pain, find out what it is and cure it.

Conductors serve more than just an audience.

They serve the musicians.

Whether it’s a client’s web page, their seo, their copy (or maybe all three) you will be directing the orchestrations that will make things happen. You’re the person that will stand there, conduct, and then turn to face the audience of your clientele, and it had better to be thunderous applause. If it’s not, it’s your fault. You can’t turn around, shrug, and say, “That tuba player sucks.”

The tuba player might suck, but it’s your job to keep that from the client and make him play better. That, or find another tuba player.

Don’t mix signals. In either direction.

Like my friend who had the “slow” sign in one hand the “c’mon, move it along” in the other, don’t confuse your clients. No matter what’s going on with the orchestrations behind the curtain of their project, convey what’s important for them to know. Give a reliable quote for the services they need (which goes along with the question asking I just kicked your tush over). If you assume they understand what everything includes, you’re in for trouble. Nickel and diming over things will confuse your client and could make them feel like you’re putting one over on them. Things like “Oh, I thought I was just writing your copy…it didn’t include any revisions or editing.” I don’t mean major, huge project scope changes, but things that should naturally come with any package. Deliver consistency so people will buy tickets for repeat showings.

Don’t overwhelm while trying to show off.

Although this is probably more apt to match with bands infamous for long, drawn out jam sessions that make some of us weep with boredom, I’m sticking to my analogy, dangit.

Remember, they hired you to do something they couldn’t. The more complicated you make it seem, the more horror you’ll see on their faces. Sure, if they ask to see the sheet music then show it to them. But don’t conduct, try and teach them how to conduct, make revisions to the sheet music…you get the point.

Keep practicing.

You’ll stumble. I guarantee you will. You’ll eat some costs and time you didn’t account for, you’ll work with bad contractors who are handling pieces of projects, and you’ll probably wind up firing that tuba player.

The good thing is, most people weren’t born like Beethoven. You won’t wave that baton and get perfection at first, but you will get more efficient every time you do it and will eventually be on the way to creating your own little masterpiece of a business.

3 Comments...

  1. Michael on January 13th, 2008 said:

    More excellent points! Of course I kept waiting for the car to break down - but then I realized that would be my life not yours. But in reality, it happens. While I am waiting for the various signals to get straightened out, my car starts to overheat (or I start to lose my temper). So what happens? I turn around and go a different way. I don’t suffer frustration well in traffic or in business…

  2. Judd Exley on January 13th, 2008 said:

    See? That’s what I’m talking about.

    How often do any of us take one moment in life that could be the possible cause of stress, frustration, and ass-pimples, and make it a lesson that we can share with others?

    Whu? Oh, the answer is: Not Very. That was supposed to be rhetorical.

    You’re brilliant. The notion to share you with others is tempered by my urge to “keep” you all to myself. We’ll see which one wins out.

    Oh, and yes to me blogging, it’s on the site under “articles”. Nothing as amazing as yours, disclaimer, disclaimer, yadda, yadda.

    Smooches.

  3. Susan on January 14th, 2008 said:

    @Michael: Oh, no breakdowns. I already had my car drama last year. First I lightly rear ended someone thanks to blinding sunlight in the morning, then a few months later I got my comeuppance with a 16-year-old who wasn’t paying attention smashed into the back of my 2-week-old, brand new Nissan Sentra.

    I’m brutal in traffic. BRUTAL. I’m from the northeast, so I have zero patience for auto-related delay.

    @Judd: Share me with others. I could use the traffic. I’ll still remember you when I had a wee, small but loyal following!

Post Your Comment...

Keep up to date on this post via this post's RSS feed.