Every weekday morning, my wife drives her clunky old Nissan to work. At the first stoplight, she turns into the Hess parking lot, walks inside and gets a coffee from Dunkin’ Donuts. It’s the kind of daily non-event that that doesn’t warrant a mention.
Until this morning.
“Do you know Dunkin’ Donuts sells pizza now?” she asked.
“Pizza?” I said.
“Sandwiches, too. Not the breakfast sandwiches, but hot flatbread sandwiches. Turkey club, that sort of thing.”
“Well, that’s crazy,” I said.
“I know!” she said. “Who wants a Dunkin’ Donuts pizza?”
Several weeks ago, I was stammering and stuttering in a room full of small business owners, a bank manager, a CEO, a public accountant and my career counselor. “Will you explain your business idea to me once again?” the accountant asked.
“Sure,” I said as a small BB of sweat rolled down my spine. “I do technology counseling for home and business, technology writing and marketing through weblogs.”
“Wow,” she said. “That’s a lot of stuff. Which one do you do well?”
Ouch.
This was the culmination of a week-long business class. After forming a basic business plan, financial projection and so on, our assignment was to speak for three minutes about just what we intend to do. Several of the students nailed it. I wasn’t one of them.
Later, when the group was mingling, exchanging business cards and eating donuts, the accountant approached me.
“Good job up there,” she said.
“Oh, please,” I said. “I think it’s too early in my ‘career’ for me to be in this class.”
“No,” she said. “It’s the perfect time. You’re full of good ideas and enthusiasm. That’s great. You just have too many ‘buckets.’ When you told me what you do, I thought, ‘Here’s a guy who is mediocre at three things.’ I want to know that you’re an expert at one thing.”
In other words, I was selling pizza at Dunkin’ Donuts.
For all I know, the pizza at Dunkin’ is the best in the world. Their flatbread sandwiches might surpass those at my favorite deli. But I’ll never find out, because I won’t try them. My perception of Dunkin’ Donuts is that they make great donuts. They taste good, they’re fresh (in the morning anyway), they’re consistent and inexpensive. I know that if I buy a Boston Creme from Dunkin’, I’ll love it.
But pizza? No. If I want pizza, I’ll go to Carmine’s. Flatbread sandwiches, The Corner Store. They’re the experts at pizza and sandwiches, respectively.
It’s easy for ambitions freelancers to inadvertently market themselves as Dunkin’ Donuts selling pizza and sandwiches. You’ve got killer ideas plus oodles of talent and confidence. That’s all wonderful, but consider your customers’ perception of that same far-reaching ambition.
I once heard someone describe himself as a “New media freelancer.” My immediate thought was, “I have no idea what that means” — and I’m a techie! Imagine you’re the owner of the General Store or the director of the tri-county library system. You may very well benefit from the services of a new media freelancer, but you probably won’t because that confusing title won’t get him in the door.
The lessons I learned are
- Identify your niche. I’m an IT guy.
- Describe it in plain language. I help people and small businesses make computer repairs, set up networks, make purchases and get the most out of their technology with one-on-one coaching.
- Avoid “also-rans.” Again, it’s not easy, but it’s crucial. Consider your client’s perception of what you actually do.
I hope this was helpful. Good luck!
