:: the first business trimester ::

it's four now, and i'm just sitting down to work, which on a sunday is pretty much unheard of. usually i toil my sundays away since i have no childcare on monday and only part of a day on tuesday. sundays are important days, work wise.

instead of working i spent 20 minutes on the elliptical and 5 hours sweeping and mopping my house from top to bottom. (note to self: if you are going to spend five hours sweeping and mopping, 20 minutes on the elliptical is kinda irrelevant.)

my work break has much less to do with needing to clean -- let's face it, i clean so seldom that there's basically always a need to do it -- and much more to do with needing to do some business thinking.

it's the same reason i've been absent here on the blog these last 19 days.

i'm thinking. planning. assessing. polling. synthesizing. crunching. fantasizing. gut-checking.

business is slow this month -- because i made it that way. i've taken off random saturdays to sit and stare at my husband, or my in-laws, spent sundays sliding furniture around in order to uncover bunny-sized dust bunnies. i've gone evenings (not many, mind you, maybe even just one) completely computer-free. i've taken long lunch breaks and walks around the block.

sales are way down, of course, but thanks to work i did all year for minted and snapfish, i'm reaping the rewards of the holiday season without much effort at all on my part.

i have my reasons for creating this slow, slow november.

i am at a point in the growth of my business and my family life where i need to figure out what the next few years are going to look like.

brian would like to have a bit more of me on the weekends and has suggested a few times that it might be time to think about a more full-time daycare situation for the kids. and i've also had a business epiphany that pushes the issue further. 

i have a really excellent business plan and i've crunched the numbers and done some market research and floated the idea by friends and colleagues and it's excitingly possible. doable. but to do it right, and it's the kind of thing that really has to be done right, it will require three things:

1. a significant investment - of somewhere around $10-16K - that it will take between 9 and 12 months to recuperate, which I realize isn't bad at all from a business investment standpoint.
2. a dedicated space (i.e. commercial or industrial studio space), which adds to the investment tally and extends the time until break-even.
3. an employee. which, yeah, adds to the investment tally and, right again, extends the time until break-even quite a bit more. this part of the equation also adds the potential for a lot more stress.

i'm not totally good with stress. my tissues seem to be stress sponges, sucking up all the cortisol and adrenaline and other yuckiness and turning them into raw, pulsating panic that strikes when least expected, sometimes even waking me from a dead sleep. 

i am surprisingly okay with issue number one, the investment, but the second two are too big for me to take lightly. they're major. crazy major. to make those two things (a studio, an employee) work with my life, i'd definitely have to up the week-day daycare and in order to compensate, work less on the weekends. i'd be signing myself up for a full-time day job working for myself and being someone's boss.

let me tell you, it doesn't feel great knowing that i have this viable business idea that has the potential to really be wildly successful and that all i need to do to make it happen is commit to it fullheartedly and step up and take the reins and yet i'm sitting here writing a long thinky blog post about it.

it also doesn't feel great knowing that my hesitation is a very female hesitation. something tells me that a man in my position would already have been down to the SBA talking about loans, would have scoped out studio space, would have talked to the woman at daycare about extending the kids' hours, and would be spreading the word about the impending new hire. that i'm not doing those things makes me feel a bit wimpy.

brian is already telling people - you know, family members and such - about my new business plan, which makes me cringe a little bit. or not cringe. wince. like it hurts to talk about it. and hurt i guess it does, because i know he's right that i could easily be racing forward into the wild blue future. 

but there are things i just can't ignore. i can't ignore the fact that i'm a total introvert who isn't exactly jumping up and down at the thought of working day-in and day-out with the same human being, having to communicate each day with that person. having to advise, guide, teach, correct, and listen to carefully enough to make the business - and the working relationship - work.

and i can't ignore the fact that emily is only two and i still want a little bit more time with her. she's at that age where we are starting to be buddies, and i really do not like the idea that i got to share the early buddy years with evan but might choose not to spend them with emily. it's a decidedly motherly thing to worry about, that i won't know my daughter as well as i will know my son, but it's there and its un-ignorable.

so here i sit, feeling so much like a mother in her first trimester who is nervous and excited and bewildered, who doesn't want to tell anyone about the baby yet - just in case. here i sit with a kick-ass plan for a really kick-ass business, one that would be both a new direction for me and a really logical extension of everything i've been doing since november 2, 2008 when all of this started.

if i don't move forward with the plan, i know i'll mourn the loss. i don't know that i can go as far as to compare it to a miscarriage or an abortion, since i've never experienced those, but there will definitely be pain and mourning and the sense that something amazing didn't happen. but while that sounds to some like a reason in and of itself to move forward -- take the plunge in order to avoid the mourning, the pain, the loss, the regret -- to me it's not so clear. avoiding that sense of loss isn't enough to make me ignore the fact that i'm not sure i want the life that bringing this new business to fruition would bestow upon me. the life for me, and for my family.

it's all so damned complicated.

there are some things that i am pretty sure of. 

1. i like working. i wouldn't trade in my job for staying home full time in a million years. i LOVE my kids and i LOVE that we have mondays all to ourselves to just do kid-and-mom-type things. out and about in the old things and here at home things. but i do actually hope to even out my life a bit more over the next few years so that i can do more of my work during "normal" work hours and less at night and on weekends.
2. i like that my job is flexible.
3. if anything, over the years i've wished it would be even a little bit easier for me to take breaks, deal with illnesses, etc.

beyond those things, i think i need to do some more house-cleaning, by which i mean soul-searching. i hope you'll indulge my silence about the specifics of the business while i do so.

and um, yeah, please do stop by my shop, as well as minted and/or snapfish, if you're so inclined this month. you'll be contributing directly to my ability to take the time to figure shit out.

please and thank you good night.

:: today ::

printing.
planning.
psyched.

:: oh yeah, thanks ::

i just wanted to pop by again quickly today to say thanks to everyone who has been reading the blog lately, and everyone who has been emailing with me about things i've been writing about, and just generally all the folks who have spoken with me in real life or otherwise about the direction my business is taking.

this morning a plan presented itself to me pretty much fully formed and i'm so psyched about how the details are so crystal clear to me. nothing has ever felt this easy before. so easy and new and different while being the most logical extension of everything i've been doing for the last three years.

more soon. for now: thanks.

:: more going ::

the goal: for all of my in-stock greeting cards to be out of stock. yup, friends, if you didn't know it already, i'm not going to be selling the greeting cards come january first.

the plan: keep reducing the prices until they're all gone. in october all cards were on sale at 25% off and several styles sold out in prompt fashion. on november first, the discount went up to 50% (meaning each card is only $2!!) and it will remain there until november 30th (or whenever everything's gone). if anything is still left then on december 1st they will go down to 75% off.

so without further ado, here are eight more styles that you may not know about, but should. happy shopping, friends.

love & subliminal messages

getting older, in pink

happy this, that, and the other thing (holiday card)

damn you (birthday card), in orange

crazy love iii (peanut butter)

oy-o card (hello, just because)

best/worst dichotomy card

upright thanks

now enjoy!

:: on the question of what my ART is ::

even though i suggested yesterday that there are two halves to the nss story, there are more. more factors that go into deciding how i want to move up up creative forward in 2012 and beyond.

one of the factors is a strange one, and it's one that i'm going to have to deal with before i deal with any of the others.

i said all that stuff i said yesterday about my ideal customers, but there's a way in which perhaps those folks i so badly want to be my customers aren't completely ideal after all. there are things i care quite deeply about that the customers i profiled yesterday don't care as much about. or don't care about at all. or don't value or prioritize financially even if they do possibly care.

and part of the weirdness in the equation is that these are not things i used to care about. they are not things i cared about even a few years ago. and they're things that i even feel a little bit hypocritical caring about.

i really really care about the quality of the final product. i know i "only" print on a pro photo printer, something that, yes, any schmoe with enough money, a USB cable, and the ability to hit cmd-P can do. but i've spent years learning all about the inks and papers that combine to create the very best, most vibrant output. i've cultivated business relationships and have so grown my print volume that i can now order my paper at significant discounts. and i've learned tricks. 

at nss last may i was situated near a company that prints on the same paper i print on, using a comparable (and in fact more expensive and slightly more advanced model) printer and i noticed that their output, while vibrant and dense, was pixelated - and even quite rough in places - around the edges of elements. and immediately i knew exactly why, and it's such an easy thing to correct, but it took me three years to figure out.

after my september experiment, when i was staring down the barrel of a significant number of orders and two printers to print them on, i realized i would never be able to keep up that volume, even though my goal for future volume is actually significantly higher than what came in throughout september. 

and so despite all i've said about in-sourcing and wanting to control the output and the quality and wanting to have my hands on things, i started looking into outsourcing at least some of my printing.

i did crazy amounts of research and found the top five or so recommendations for the kind of work i'm looking to have done and i started requesting samples. i got paper sample books, printed sample books, and i also ordered small opening orders with three shops that had the best paper options for me using my own designs, just so i could compare them with my own output here in the studio.

the first order to arrive came in wrong. the back was printed in the wrong orientation and so arrived misaligned, turned 90 degrees, and cut off on one side. also, the color intensity was weak and there was that pesky rough-edge pixel problem. i requested that the problem be corrected and a week later i got the corrected order. a week! for ten prints that were supposedly expedited. the back was correct this time, but the print quality was the same.

the next order to arrive was actually so ugly i actually gasped when i saw it. it arrived extremely promptly, i'll give them that, but ohmygod i was shocked at what i received. the paper, supposedly a premium matte-finish paper, was shiny. not glossy, mind you. not luster. just kind of shiny. like sort of matte-shiny. it's hard to explain but it's awful. and the trimming isn't square or consistent, and on 5 of the 25 prints, part of the crop marks appear on the top corner. for real. and the whole stack is significantly curled. and oh. the pixelly problem again.

if only i could get my hands on those printers myself, i'm positive i could produce significantly better output. and the trimming? come on.

and the thing is, this quality is acceptable to a lot of people. i got lots of recommendations from graphic designers and photographers i know and trust. these places are the best in the biz.

i did find one place that prints with the same ink and papers i use here in-house: giclee printing on heavy duty fine-art 100% cotton paper. the cost there is $9 for a 5x7 print if you order a minimum of 75, which in order for me to make profitable would have to marked up to about $21 per invitation, envelopes excluded. which makes me laugh and laugh and laugh. perhaps i'm underpricing on these because my market won't support the price i probably should be charging, but certainly they're charging a premium for a level of output that just isn't expected by most.

including my supposedly ideal customers, who i've asked about their printing expectations. what they've told me is that while they are in awe at the quality of my prints, it's just not something they're willing to pay for. it's not a priority for them. they have, in fact, often asked for printable versions that they can have printed at places i'd be appalled to use because the quality is so shoddy. 

and the thing is? until i started doing all of this and learning everything i can about printing in-house, it wasn't a priority for me, either. 

and yeah. i know, i'm not my own ideal customer. i came to this realization awhile ago and i'm pretty good about remembering it. but at the same time, there's something that still nags at me - something that makes me question whether anyone who doesn't have their hands on the goods each day, who isn't a printer themselves, prioritizes the kind of quality i've come to think of as a benchmark.

or, more to the point, are the people who prioritize paper and quality output and the time and expertise it takes to make paper magic happen, are they really at all interested in digital printing? are the people who have the money to spend on this kind of quality, who care deeply about it like i do, are they all really much more interested in letterpress and even screenprinted work?

and further: do i want to make it my job to educate people about the high quality stuff they can get without a letterpress printer? do i want to devote time and energy to creating my own market?

and finally: do i see myself as an artist? a printmaker? or a graphic designer? is the art i create the design (and the design only) or is it the final product?

if it's the final product, which is the model i've been operating under for awhile now without really acknowledging it, then how do i begin to create a desire for the kind of art i'm putting out there? how do i create my own market?

there are, of course, so many other things to consider, like what i can realistically accomplish within the confines of my own set of circumstances. like, from my attic studio, all 150 square feet of it, and my 17 hours a week of daycare plus all my nights and weekends. i need to be making the kind of salary that i could make if i worked a full-time job. that's what my family needs. if that's the case, do i really have the right to focus so much on the quality of the end product when the demand is not (yet, anyway) enough to sustain us? is it responsible of me to set out courting a market i don't yet know how to find or cultivate when there's a market of customers i relate to, know how to reach and inspire, and can find sustainable ways to serve?

or if i'm going to go whole-hog in the direction of artist-slash-printmaker, should i really be setting up shop with a letterpress and trying to really court the customers who are most interested in the kind of work i do? should i start providing both options - the giclee and the letterpress?

but from where? my garage, where an unused 1979 MG takes up space beside nine bikes and a human-powered lawn mower and about sixteen thousand other things? the garage i won't allow my kids in? the one that's unheated, uninsulated, offering no protection for any paper or ink, and in no way shape or form appropriate for the task?

these, my friends, these are the questions that keep me up nights i'm afraid. they're the questions that make decision-making so hard.

:: the other half of the nss story ::

my previous post on nss presented the gut/emotional side of things, because that's kind of what i like to do on this blog. this blog, since it's my personal blog, is the perfect venue for me to talk about - and think through - how intuition, gut reactions, and emotional responses feed into everyday business decisions.

but to be fair - to me and to my business - there is another key factor i'm considering as i ponder nss 2012. a key non-emotional, business-facts kind of factor. 

my ideal customers.

as i've worked through this year with my business, particularly in the months since nss, i've been increasingly aware of the need to get crystal clear on just who i want to be selling to. who i'm focused on attracting, serving, and satisfying.

when you're an artsy-designy type, and when you start out part time and kind of just want to see how and where things go, you don't always spend a lot of time thinking about this part of things. but for me at least, the key to focusing my efforts in a way that will allow me to make this business more sustainable, more profitable, and even more enjoyable is figuring out who i want to work with. who i want to sell to. 

the september experiment was a huge part of this. as i explained in my follow-up post on a practical wedding, i think a big part of the experiment was about nailing down who my ideal customer is and how i can best communicate to her.

there, i wrote this:

"There's sort of a business adage (adage? rule of thumb? bit of advice? moral? truism?) that says you should price for the customer you want. If you want a high-end customer, you need a high-end price. If you want a bargain shopper, you need a bargain price. 

I actually just gave this advice to two separate individuals in the last 48 hours.
At some point early on in this experiment, it occurred to me that at least in part, my goal for this experiment was to do this the other way around: find the customer I wanted and then let that customer set the price. And who was that customer? She was the kind of person who believes in the power of her voice and her dollar; the sort of person who would think carefully before naming a price. She was thoughtful, maybe a little bit rebellious. 

I agonized over my so-called pitch. I worked so hard on the video, on the FAQs. I was selective in which blogs I contacted. I wanted to make this an experiment about ideas more than it was an experiment about how many customers I could bring through the door. I wanted to focus on finding the right name-your-price customers. 

After all, it's just me here. Me and an ex-intern (back to school in September) and a very pregnant sister and a husband neck-deep in prosecuting bad guys. And two young kids in just-part-time daycare. So it's not like I wanted an onslaught. But I did want participation. I told Meg that my biggest fear was that no one would participate."

and the thing is, attending nss really in no way, shape, or form fits into a marketing strategy that speaks to the customer i'm trying to engage. i know it's a big part of becoming a serious and enduring stationery brand, which is why i was so excited to go this year, why i'm glad i went this year, and why i'm still slightly on the fence about attending next year. 

but as i hone my business objectives and focus my efforts, it's pretty clear to me that the six grand i spent on attending this past year could be put to much better use if what i want to do is attract the kinds of customers i want to attract. customers who want to do things their way. young people who seek their inspiration and information online and who haven't stepped foot in a boutique since their moms dragged them there to buy presents for their great aunts. people who want input in the process. people who want to be reassured that their way is the right way, even if its not the traditional way.

so yeah. there's the emotional part. there's the frustration i feel, and the resentment. there's my inclination towards being contrary and stubbornly striking out in my own direction. but there are also solid, logical, intentional reasons that attending nss may not be the best choice for up up creative in 2012, much as attending again would be fun.

i just had to put that out there because i felt like my other post only covered half the story.