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  • Explaining My Freelance Practice

    January 29, 2009

    I was chatting virtually with my friend Britt Raybould about just what it is that she “does” for work; this has been an ongoing three-year conversation since she first introduced herself to me at South by Southwest 2007. I know she’s intelligent, competent, driven, and writes well; I just didn’t know exactly how to frame these desirable qualities in my mind in a “work” context.

    In the last exchange we had this morning, she shared with me the fruits of a night’s thinking about the problem, and bing…I finally got it. And at the same time, I had an insight about how I should tackle the challenge of describing myself in a way that felt intuitive. It’s a matter of remembering that the biggest challenge of describing yourself isn’t coming up with the right keywords and categories; it’s being able to paint a picture in people’s minds about how they work with you.

    I’ve been spending a lot of time over the past few years figuring out how to describe myself accurately, and I actually enjoy this. I love trying to find the differentiating nuances in my work that also reflect my personality. However, I haven’t spent so much time thinking about how to “paint the picture”, figuring that so long as I kept showing things people would figure out if they liked what I did or not by themselves. It’s a practical implementation of “The Law of Attraction”, the idea that “like attracts like”. It also is a good way to not have to make a decision about what it is that I do in convenient “HIRE ME FOR THIS” form. This is probably because I hate labels and boxes; they feel so limiting, and I that’s why I don’t have a regular “business website” packed with the usual service offerings.

    Since I need to start rustling up business for April/May 2009, I can’t put this off too much longer. Thankfully, Britt’s comments to me have kicked me in the butt towards action.

    The Standard Approach

    As much as I prefer not to be pigeon-holed, I must admit that labels and boxes are effective tools in narrowing down a potential niche of work. I can throw out a few of them quickly–design, writing, interactive, Flash, productivity–and a certain narrowing of understanding occurs. Potential clients actually get an idea if they can use me or not to get certain types of work done. The questions that inevitably arise next are:

    • What kind of design/writing/interactive is that?
    • Are you good enough to meet my needs?
    • And in the best case, will blow away my expectations?
    • And will this be a great value for my money?

    Back when I worked in more traditional web agencies, my typical reaction to these questions would be to provide the information I thought the prospective client needed to make the decision, using as little boilerplate as possible. By boilerplate, I mean making empty claims on paper. You know, stuff like, “you should hire me because I am excellent and conscientious and devoted to making you look good.” It may be a true sentiment backed by genuine intention, but it lacks substance because experience has also taught us that intention and action do not guarantee satisfaction. In other words, you may get the exact results you paid for, but you might not be happy with what you got. Que sera.

    So instead of focusing on these kind of statements or relying on my client list to make indirect claims of excellence, I put the thinking work into the response, provide useful insights, and show examples of past work that are relevant to the problem. A lot of people freak out at this approach, saying that I’m giving away the ideas to a prospect who is likely to turn around and just implement the solution themselves, or even just use it to re-pitch their RFP to get a lower price somewhere else. While this is certainly a possibility, I don’t see how I can lose. In the best case, the prospective client is impressed by my analysis and candor and we start a good working relationship. Or, the prospective client sees that the way I’d implement the problem is how they would do it too, and they’re happy to pay someone to do it right because they don’t have the staff resources to handle it themselves. And if the prospective client is just fishing for free information for the cheapest price under the guise of putting out work for bid, they’ve done you a favor by looking elsewhere because they’ve just shown a lack of business morality that will bite you in the butt later. I’d rather just provide the insight for free, then consider the time well-spent in collecting another datapoint on what people are up to in the business world.

    Freelancing is a feast-or-famine lifestyle at times, and since clients are perceived the ones with the power, freelancers is to think in terms of maximizing their exposure to as many clients as possible. Then, the trick is to be as flexible as possible without hurting yourself. This is basic survivalist thinking, which begets what I might call the standard freelancing approach:

    • Where do prospective clients look for freelancers? I better make sure I’m with all the other freelancers then, because that’s where the clients will look.
    • How do prospective clients find freelancers that do what I do? I know they ask for, so I better list those same things so they find me in keyword searches.
    • How do I convince prospective clients to hire me? I need to show them the work I’ve done that is the work they are looking for.

    Once you take care of these three questions, the process becomes a game of numbers and luck. If enough people see you, and you stand out in a way that they happen to like, you’ll get chosen. Superb salesmanship and follow-through then come into play, and your reputation will start to grow. It just takes time.

    The Personal Approach

    I’m not planning pursuing a straight service model, otherwise I’d just be hanging my set of keywords up on various job boards. The skills I have, in other words, are NOT my offering. I’m seeking a certain kind of personal interaction that happens to make use of my skills; this is the expression of my general desire to create more “awesome and inspiring” experiences for myself and people that I like. The logic may sound business-backwards, I know, but wouldn’t it be great if I could make it work? And I know it can work…just go to SXSW Interactive or a Podcamp sometime and see for yourself.

    I see my challenge not as “accurately categorize the work”, which is how I would describe the Standard Approach outlined in the previous section. That’s phone-book thinking, guaranteed to put you in competition with everyone else that “does” the same thing. And from a design perspective it’s a big sin, similar to organizing a website based on how the database schema came out, or like writing code documentation based on a list of methods in the API. This is dumb, because there is little sense of what causes what and why, which is essential to creating any kind of meaningful understanding. You just end up with a collection of descriptors that are not connected in any kind of narrative or qualitative sense, which ends up being as frustrating as a bad round of charades. You need to have some kind of story that lays down the foundation, which then helps put you in context to the prospect’s vision of the good life. That’s a great place to be…now you just have to deliver! :-)

    So for me, I’d like to reframe the questions in two parts. First, from my perspective:

    • What kind of people do I like and respect? Creative, generous, positive people who are trying to do something different and are willing to be a little weird.
    • What are my favorite skills that can be made a productive part of their working life? It’s writing, brainstorming, categorizing, explaining, analyzing, and making things make sense to me using whatever supporting media I can dream up. In the past I’d made the mistake of doing things that were not among things I enjoyed doing (straight website development, for example), and the results were disappointing.

    And from the client’s personal perspective:

    • Are you someone that I’d like to work with? This is a matter of showing enough of myself and my personality that’s relevant to a good mutual working relationship. The various tools and writing I’ve done become the marketing collateral; I’ve just got to make it easier to look through.
    • What kind of things can I ask you to help me with? What kind of things can you handle for me? This becomes a statement of what I’m willing and able to do.
    • Can I actually envision using your products and services to make my life better in some way? That comes down to composing a picture and telling a story.

    The combination of the personal approach with the standard approach creates, for me anyway, a more well-rounded strategy for pursuing new business. You could say what I’m doing is just another way of explaining a certain kind of salesmanship and marketing. The difference, though, is that the interaction satisfies both parties in an authentic fashion: “This is me. You are you. Is there a genuine complement of skills, needs, and collaboration in the making? Let’s find out.”

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    DSri Seah
  • New Twitter-related Blog

    January 27, 2009

    I’ve been spending most of my social media time on Twitter, because it offers a good balance of chatter and informal connection during the day. Unlike email, chat, instant messaging or Facebook, Twitter allows me to just skim the surface of what’s going on in the world, and I can participate back without having to invest a lot of time writing. The 140-character limit to each “tweet” is also good for me, as I tend to run really long in the prose department.

    The idea of the new blog is to have a place to put Twitterverse-related thoughts, to keep from cluttering up this site. It’s currently at daveseah.wordpress.com, if you’d like to follow along. This also gives me a chance to see what’s new with WordPress, which I still kind of miss since switching to Expression Engine about a year ago.

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    DSri Seah
  • Horses are Afraid, Go Karts Are Not

    January 25, 2009

    I have a mere eight minutes to post this, but the thoughts have been with me all weekend. I will expand on this later.

    The ideas I have been writing about the past few weeks have been around extracting improved performance out of my existing set of capabilities. I’m a person, flawed in many ways, with a few good properties that might work really well if I knew how to manage them. The analogy I made was that I was a kind of go kart that (assuming good maintenance) would be able to perform at my best when driven intelligently. The analogy is a little flawed…I should really think of myself as a horse, not a vehicle.

    Why a horse? Everything I know about horses comes from reading my sister’s horse books when I was a kid. What I understand is that they are rather high-strung, fearful, and jittery unless they have a good rapport with their rider. As a team, the rider and the horse can win races if they learn how to focus together.

    The other day I was talking to my friend Angela, and she pointed out that maybe I lacked the guts to do a lot of the things I dream of doing. And on reflection, I realized she was right. As accomplished and competent as I am, I nevertheless have let my life be shaped by avoidance and by fear. In the areas that I have grown the most, I had identified and faced those fears. However, it’s easy to forget that my “preferences” for doing things certain ways are really a way to avoid feeling under scrutiny, out-of-place, lost, stupid, trapped, or incompetent. And what is interesting is that I can divide my skillset into ones that were developed primarily as a reaction to those fears. What is even MORE interesting is that there are also some skills I have that were developed as a reaction to joy. I’d never made that distinction before, and I think this might give me a way of determining with a little more certainty which skills should be adopted into my main line of work.

    But I’m out of time. I’ll expand on this later.

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    DSri Seah
  • Disentangling Expectations

    January 20, 2009

    I was just re-reading Monday’s post, and feel that I’m starting to wander. I’ve got to regroup; here’s the main issues on my table:

    • To be more productive I emphasize instantaneous feedback in my work, and have been selecting work and social situations that provide this as much as possible.
    • There are so many interesting opportunities for me that I am finding it rather daunting to develop them all. To be pragmatic, I have felt I have needed to lower my expectations of how many I can do at a time. This feels crappy.
    • Intellectually I know that slow-and-steady development will yield, over time, the sense of advancement I want and introduce undreamed-of opportunities; I just need to keep putting one foot in front of the other. However, I tend to be impatient and the resulting mental stubbornness results in procrastination.
    • Current status: mental gridlock. I’m not getting anything done that I want.
    • Current theory: perhaps I need to focus on both mindfulness and the limits of my current abilities; in short, learn to drive what I’ve got instead of waiting for me to finish building that better race car.

    It’s relatively easy for me to rattle off what I’m strongest in:

    • absorbing information to distill principles
    • discovering connections between ideas
    • isolating and categorizing contextual states of understanding
    • presenting insights in visual or written form
    • listening to and leading people to their own understanding
    • systemizing what I’ve discovered and learned
    • coming up with novel approaches to teach what I’ve systemized

    This is different from knowing whether I’m “good” at it or not; that means knowing what kind of competitive arena I want to race in. The few that come to mind are graphic design, creative consulting, interactive design, and perhaps systems analysis. However, none of these by themselves create that sense of excitement that I crave. Perhaps what excites me most of all is just the opportunity to learn about things and figure out how to best apply what I learned toward the challenge.

    This is a niche category, which means that the metrics are not so clear cut. I need to look at the reasoning behind the goals more closely:

    • The racing metaphor I’ve been using in the past few days would be great if my personal goal was “to be a great race car driver”, because there are simple metrics I can think of to guide myself by: “run the lowest lap time”, “be the first to finish the race”, “perform consistently”. It’s a little more difficult if I said, “I want to be a great designer”, because the metrics are more indirect: “get hired by the top design firms” and “get critical acclaim and recognition from the industry and the media” come to mind. Nevertheless, in both situations the simple metrics belie the intoxicating complexity of differing strategy and tactics that can be designed to reach them. With solid principles, experienced mentors, and great diagnostic tools, the process of learning is fairly clear-cut once you have them in place. I’ll tentatively say the reason behind this type of goal is to pick an area to compete in. Follow the rules, maybe even come up with some new strategies.
    • I have been largely preoccupied with identity over the past two years. I believed that if I knew who I was, then my mission would be clear. What I don’t like about the focus on identity: it makes me more self-conscious, and I think I could use a lot less of that. I’m tired of it. It would be nice to just get lost in something else and still be productive. Nevertheless, I have an intense desire to find my place and my calling. The reason I’m looking for my place is because everything I’ve tried so far (design, programming, management, consulting) has left me unsatisfied, and I have not figured out how to create that niche category that will ensure survival and success.

    • Then there is the joy in the experience itself. Professions like farming come to mind. I’ve never worked on a farm, but I can imagine that the long days that go into growing a crop from seed to harvest require great measures mindfulness and focus. The fundamentals are pretty basic, I would guess, but I would imagine that successful farmers have learned to adapt to the earth and sky, learned to see deeply into their crops and predict the impact of the weather on yield, flavor, and profit. Although it takes a lot of time to grow a crop, I imagine that the activity of farming itself is rich with sensory input. There’s the sun and the rain, the smells of fertilizer and rich earth, the physicality of the labor, and the satisfaction of holding what you’ve grown. The nature of the work takes the self out of the equation, because your attention is on the world and how it responds to your ministrations; it’s interactive. For people who love this–printers who just love the way ink smells, painters who are thrilled by the sight of new tubes of pigment, farmers who love corn–this is a kind of bliss that I have yet to experience.

    <

    p>Scope of Competition, Meaning, and Sensuality of the Experience. Perhaps these are the three areas I need to define. But my hour is up; more tomorrow.

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    DSri Seah
  • Realistically High Expectations, Part I

    January 19, 2009

    Last week I made the connection between how I “drive” myself poorly with how unskilled drivers run terrible laps at the local Go Kart track. My expectation was that the vehicle–myself–is infinitely fast, instantaneous in response, and indestructible, so I mash the pedals and jerk the steering wheel expecting to excel at what I do just because I’m doing it aggressively. So I hit the barriers on the curves, skid out, am ultimately disappointed with my performance because I’ve not learned to recognize the limits of the vehicle. However, I know that a skilled driver can exact a thrilling experience with the same cart and track, because he/she knows how to drive to the limit: they’ve studied the dynamics of the track and know the parameters of the cart; their performance appears unworldly to us noobs. Our expectations, as drivers both of go-karts and our own lives, are out of whack with reality.

    So how did our unrealistic expectations come to exist? I blame the instant-fix mentality that pervades our daily lives, catering to our appetite for gratification now. I suppose it’s not really our fault, as instant gratification is wired into our primitive brains; the idea that things can and should be powerful and easy has been a long-standing technological trend. We love the idea of wielding magic wands, guns, and iPhones; we just need genies in bottles, infinite rounds of ammunition, and server-side programming to complete the fantasy. In the case of the iPhone and thousands of other amazing products, that fantasy is our reality.

    The Industrial Revolution taught us that hard work can yield to the efficiencies of mechanical mass-production, and in the subsequent shift to the consumer-driven economy we’ve been conditioned by advertising that we should benefit from this. The emphasis has shifted to granting us incredible powers over our lives, so long as we constrain our actions to that which technology and commerce has been able monetize. And advertising reinforces this message of push-button, wipe-on wipe-off ease. We have a plentiful supply of magic bullets supplied to us by hucksters, and we’re all too willing to believe that we’re capable of directing our fire with competence.

    Redirecting Expectations

    I’ve been noticing over the past couple of years just how impatient I am, and I had adjusted my productivity strategy to include more instantaneous feedback to help maintain motivation and interest in longer-term tasks I treated my lack of patience as character flaw inherent to me, and figured it was easier to just work around it. “I’m not great at being mindful and being focused”, I told myself.

    I thought I had an intellectual understanding of what that was, but in reality I didn’t; I confused the results of mindfulness and focus with knowing what it was. My attempts to be mindful consisted of removing distractions, simplifying and shortening task lists, and telling myself that it was OK to do so. I attempted to work within what I thought I could muster, and to some extent it did work in that I felt better because I’d lowered my standards. But this is not elevated consciousness; it’s working within what I thought I could do. And although this has led to an increased sense of well-being, lowering my standards is a cop-out no matter how I spin it. If I’m not making the changes I desire, I am really just coping with my lack of fulfillment, telling myself that it doesn’t matter as much as I thought. On the race track, this is the equivalent of driving very conservatively and slowly, making sure that I do not exceed the safe speed and stay within the boundaries. As a result, I can finish the lap instead of wiping out, and I’m alive to tell the tale. Don’t get me wrong…finishing anything is awesome. It just isn’t as awesome as going fast and looking good while doing it. I don’t think anyone who has a dream really wants to settle for doing things half-way, except in a world where expectations are kept low. Bah!

    I want to be able to set my expectations high.

    I assumed that maybe my goals were unrealistic, and scaled them back. But perhaps that view is too simplistic. A more satisfying model of productivity would incorporate realistic expectations with constant feedback as the high-performing vehicle that we want to be. To deny this desire is to just lie to ourselves. The secret to getting there is to consider what it takes to become a master driver, the mind that guides the actions that extract the pleasure in performance. The limits exist, but perhaps I can make better use of them. So I am redefining mindfulness to mean responding well to the sensory inputs related to whatever task is at hand. And I am redefining focus to being able to consistently detect the conditions of the environment such that I can anticipate what needs to be done. These are skills that I know can be trained in an environment where the number of sensory inputs are high and tangibly-effective process is available; there is no helping it. It comes down, I suspect, to the ability to perceive the inputs in the first place, and then having the guts to push them to see how the next set of inputs will change.

    I suspect a lot of our productivity challenges are related to the difficulty in learning how to see.

    More tomorrow.

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    DSri Seah