Reformation

No, not that one. But they’re related.

Part of my semi-regular practice as a professional is a periodic marketing scan. I try to remember to do it at least once a year, but I sometimes forget. I tend to discount changes that challenge my assumptions, until I get clubbed upside the head with a clue-by-four. Like when I attend a conference and the speaker systematically tears down my existing structures, detailing my errors in graphic and indisputable detail before showing me what I should have been doing instead.

Yeah. A personal reformation moment, when I have to give up my indulgences and form a new belief structure based on deeds, not faith.

The presenter (shout out to Tammi Labrecque, Newsletter Ninja) explained how newsletters work in this era of social media saturation and growing dissatisfaction with the walled and owned gardens like Facebook and Twitter. I knew the value of mailing lists but failed to closely examine what they looked like from the recipient’s end. Her argument was so effective, I came home from Austin and immediately started tearing down my existing mailing list, rebuilding it using server automation to handle a four-step on-boarding process.

But having a rude awakening in one area made me look around to see if I had any other misguided practices that needed addressing.

Like, say, advertising. Which I might have been less than open-minded about, focused as I was on the exclusive use of social media marketing. My issues revolved around effectiveness, efficiency, and scaling. Turns out I might have been wrong about that, too.

I’m in the process of setting up a one-year experiment in the use of various forms of advertising. I’m starting small with some experimental Amazon Marketing Services (AMS) ads while I learn the ropes in this math-driven, arcane world of impressions, clicks, and costs. It’s a fascinating exercise, but–at least for now–it’s taking a lot of my precious attention and focus. The potential upside keeps me working at it, even while I struggle with keeping my goals of “writing every day” and “four novels this year.”

My point is that no matter how successful I’ve been in the past, the market changes every day. Whatever might have been true last year–or last week–might no longer be true today. The practices I was so proud of on February 1st now appear badly flawed to the point of feeling stupidly short-sighted.

All because I forgot a basic step in my marketing. I failed to do my market scan. I failed to question the assumptions that fuel my success. It’s working, so how can it be wrong–right?

Mea culpa.

How about you? What is the bedrock under your practice? Have you questioned it lately? Are there stones in your foundation that might have cracked under the relentless onslaught of innovation around you? Have you checked?

Image Credit: Ferdinand Pauwels [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons