Amy Swift Crosby

Morning team.

I’m gonna skip the blog today. In its place is an interview I did recently for theInspired Conversations podcast with Amy Schuber. Here’s what I’ll say about it:

When a friend interviews you, you invariably share things that are more truthful than you would otherwise. That happened.

When a podcast is called “Inspired Conversations,” you hope you can…ahem, inspire. I made it my goal to impact one person listening. By aiming low, I’m hoping I landed somewhere higher (hopefully you can tell me either way.)

I usually ask the questions, not answer them. But I found that answering them is actually a way to dive deeper into what you really think about things. Kind of therapeutic, and evidence that you can still surprise and entertain yourself occasionally (phew.)

Thank you, Amy Schuber, for having me on the show!

This may sound familiar: “Can you help me with XYZ? It will just take a few minutes.”

The hilarious thing about anything “just taking a few minutes,” is that it only takes you a few minutes to review the creative, rewrite the copy, fix the logo, talk someone off a cliff, post the social, adjust the picture, modify the brief, call the vendor, dissect the invoice, take the call, design the invite…because you’ve spent years getting really familiar and good at that thing – and as a result, it only takes a few minutes. It’s actually WHY it just takes a few minutes!

Sometimes it can feel like people minimize this – they incorrectly calculate that because it’s 10 minutes of your time, it must cost ten minutes of their money or ten points of their appreciation.

This lesson was made really clear to me with a client in New York City, an older gentleman who’s pearls of wisdom come from stories of days gone by. I lamented sending him a sizable invoice for an ad concept (above) that had only taken me a few minutes to create, because similar types of work had taken me two days for the same price. This disparity bothered me – and I was transparent about it.

“How can I charge you the same fee for work that took less than half the time?”

He shared of a friend who had gotten himself into serious tax trouble, to such a degree that his lawyer called him and told him not to come back to the office, or go home, because the authorities were at his door. The lawyer reassured him that he would initiate resolving the issue immediately. The troubled client wondered how long he would have to flee the city in order for his lawyer to fix things with the government. Four hours later, the lawyer called and said, “I fixed it and you can go home now.” The client was thrilled at his efficiency and smarts, until he got the bill on Monday. He called the lawyer in disbelief at how four hours work could possibly cost this many thousands of dollars. The lawyer said, “Sir, you don’t pay me to read the book. You pay me to know which page to find the answer.”

This is why charging by the hour is problematic for certain types of work. Whether it took you 8 minutes or three days, some “services” need a flat fee. Others are time-intensive, no matter what, and your experience has to be calculated according to the efficiencies, expertise and insight you bring to the hours it really takes.

Know the difference on this for yourself. When I create ads, they have to be short, disarming messages that run in national or international publications, like the New York Times. That’s a big weight to carry, but I charge for that. Sometimes it comes easily. Sometimes it doesn’t. But it always costs the same.

The other day a small business owner (a man), noted how much my blog seems to “feel his pain.” I liked the compliment but then had to ask — “do you think it’s too dark? Do I share too much about the struggle versus the joy?” We had a good conversation about how there are plenty of inspirational slogans and memes and hero-driven, blue-sky press profiles of successful entrepreneurs, to say nothing of the Facebook phenomenon of the-fabulous-life-you’re-not-living…but that too few people talk about the swamp, the hairy underbelly, of this entrepreneurial life.

I think I do talk about the challenge more than the pleasure because I’ve established a “space” where I unpack conventional wisdom. That is my format. You have one too — whether it’s in writing or in a product that solves problems or a regular event or even your social media feed. People have come to expect a certain contribution from you. Continuing to support and inform that “format” builds your voice in that space.

There are platforms where it’s always a mom championing the underdog, or a cook working without sugars, or an entrepreneur on the balcony of her five star hotel (showing you what success looks like…ahem.) The topics change, but the conversation should always share a common DNA.

If I wrote about yacht excursions and shopping trips to Paris, maybe you’d still read —but it would be for a different reason.  My format relies on asking questions, pushing back on accepted wisdom — and  — not always having answers.

Your format is your formula. What do you do / say / make / reflect — that no one else does in the same way? Figure it out. Then keep doing it.

There’s a food pantry near me that serves hot meals to people who might not get one during the week. When I watch the director of the program run and operate the kitchen, the thing that strikes me most – beyond his calm, centered demeanor, truly stunning organizational skills, the ability to anticipate and solve every single challenge that arrises, kind but clear directives to everyone in the kitchen and dining room and pantry – is his highly specific instructions to volunteers about plating food. You’d think a hot meal of roasted chicken, macaroni and cheese and fresh spinach salad would be a gift in itself. Nope. Not enough. He wants to see the food plated with care and attention to what color borders what – to what’s hottest and ready to serve – to clean lines and generous portions. The Open Door is a step above a soup kitchen for sure, but still – often when people are on the margins – our standard quickly becomes “well, it’s better than nothing.” Not for Ken.

I was recently in Charleston, South Carolina where I watched a celebrated chef approve (or send back) every single dish that came out. Totally different demeanor (barking, swearing, sweating). Between wiping the sides of a bowl or correcting the crispiness of a pig ear, it had to be perfect. His name is on the door. His New York Times review is at stake. Every night. He cares because he has to hold up a brand for which even he works.

But really, there’s no difference in the results both of these men achieve (their approaches vary wildly!).  Each brings a pride, discipline and discernment to their work. One is famous –  the other an ordinary angel, mostly anonymous to the world at large. But they care. And their teams hover and dance around them with respect and appreciation. Those customers – whether eating off a white tablecloth or linoleum cafeteria table – get their everything.

Do some people / clients / friends / relationships get our best? While others settle for our good enough? When no one is watching, does it matter?

It does.

No matter how close or far you find yourself to events of the past days and months, if you aren’t grieving or enraged, you’re at least baffled by how we got here as a country. So many of us are consumed and distracted by our own challenges and burdens, and then reminded – of course – that a bigger crisis surrounds not only the United States but also the world. We are divided by race. By authority. By religion. By gender. Right now it’s easy to forget what unites us.

What can be done? I have the sensation of watching an accident with no power to stop it, call an ambulance, hold the hand of a victim. But we still have the power to make a positive impact.

We can avoid divisiveness over the daily, the trivial, the low hanging fruit of bad drivers or the mission to be right. We can stop being offended by whatever rubs us wrong.  We can be less demanding, more curious. Less finger pointing, more accountable. There’s no time or room for that now. These tedious conflicts are quickly becoming luxuries.

As small business owners, we can lead a small but powerful movement that chooses to assume the highest possible intention. We have to start somewhere, in small but meaningful decisions, that at the very least don’t add to the rising tension – and at the most – raise the collective consciousness of an important web of voices. Use your  power to lead, change and soothe. Not just publicly and professionally. But privately. Personally. Proactively.

Let’s do that. Starting right now. #yeswecan.