Thanks to my last post on overwhelm, I’m slowly picking through the book How to Get People to Do Stuff by Susan Weinschenk.
One of the most empowering lessons in the book is about the power of stories.
We’ve been hearing about stories since it became a super popular content marketing trend about a year ago. In fact, a lot of the ghostwriting I was doing for top publications was about storytelling and the power of figuring out your brand’s story.
Well, guess what? That’s the truth.
Stories are important. As Weinschenk says, everything we do is related to a story we have about who we are and how we relate to others.
Everything we do is related to a story we have about who we are and how we relate to others.
And when there’s one story forming the basis for all of your reactions and decisions, that’s a very powerful story indeed.
But Weinschenk goes on. Did you know that most of the stories we have are unconscious? Both about ourselves and about others. That means we’re all carrying around a whole lot of baggage that either makes us good or not good at what we do.
Here’s a story for you, about a time I bombed a client call.
My Story About My Story of Work
It started out pretty normal. I used my warm emailing technique to make a connection because the company’s site had come up in my research. I got invited for an introduction by phone and kicked it off answering the typical “Tell me about yourself” interview question.
Now, for some reason I have a long history of being awful about this question (including a time I literally gave a five second “Ummmmmm”). It’s just so vague, even though know now that it’s just an invitation to talk about my relevant experience.
I started answering the question by explaining my background in education and my leap to writing and editing. And then, much to my horror, I heard the following words slip out of my already-grimacing mouth:
“I was writing for the internet in my personal time, but then I was laid off and thought I’d make a go of it!”
Oh my gosh. CRINGE. If I were that client, I would have rolled my eyes and gotten off the phone as quickly as possible. What an amateur. What a victim. What a hesitant, not-highly-paid rookie.
(Okay, I’m a little hard on myself sometimes, and I’m sure she wasn’t thinking mean things, but come on that’s a bad answer to give someone when you’re supposed to be the expert).
Call it a hunch, but after lurking on tons of freelancer mastermind groups I know I’m not alone on this. New writers (and sometimes even established writers) have stories about themselves in their heads and they let it come out at really inopportune moments (like first-time client calls).
Here’s what went wrong with this conversation and what we can all do to prevent it from happening to anyone again again:
You are not a victim, so don’t talk like you are.
As a part of my faith, upbringing, and general awareness of positive psychology, I believe in the power of positive thinking and in my own inherent power to change my situation. I am not a victim… and yet I told a story about myself to this client that was very much a story of victimhood.
I was laid off, and that was a downer at the time. But I rallied and turned it into a thriving career for myself with the time and wealth independence I need to be successful. Where is the victim in that? And why didn’t that come out on my call?
If you’re letting hints of victimhood into your story, invest time in proactively scripting those calls. Reflect on the significant events in your business life and career and carefully consider how you frame them.
Craft an authentic story that is a mix of vulnerability, honesty, and confidence in your ability to face any challenge that comes along.
Are you a well-paid, experienced expert? Or are you an “ooopsey-daisy!” victim who distances herself from her accomplishments? Your goal is to craft an authentic story that is a mix of vulnerability, honesty, and confidence in your ability to face any challenge that comes along.
I recently did an interview for another writing site and decided to reframe my story from the start. Instead of the nonsense from above, I wrote:
Boom! This post from Nick Reese also has some great tips for crafting a compelling story about your business.
If you don’t make willy-nilly decisions, don’t talk about your business like you do.
I am the nerd in my relationship. I overanalyze how many plantain fries I can fit on a cookie sheet, I decide whether or not to do my hair based on how many people will see me (to get the most out of the hair products!), and I carefully plan out epic errand-running trips to make sure they’re efficient. So why the heck would I tell someone I started my business because “I wanted to make a go of it?”
Now, to be fair, that was true: I did start my business wondering if it was sustainable. But I did not, do not, and have not ever approached my work with that kind of whimsy or devil-may-care attitude. So why is it in my story?
Let this be a lesson to us all. Sometimes we try to hide our shyness by being too polite or making light of serious accomplishments. Don’t do that.
Are you an amateur fooling around to “see if this thing sticks?” If so, why would anyone ever hire you? If not, why would you answer questions with that attitude?
Are you an amateur fooling around to “see if this thing sticks?” If so, why would anyone ever hire you? If not, why would you answer questions with that attitude?
Instead, focus your story on your skills, your competence, and your deeper motivations about the work you do. I may have been laid off and started my business from a risky position, but I jumped in with a fire in my heart and a talent for putting words together. That’s the story I need to be sharing.
Don’t assume what people think of your career.
This is where one of those unconscious stories came into play. Coming from a family with established, stable careers (mostly engineering and military service), I faced a lot of “Are you still looking for a job? My friend is hiring…” early on in my self-employment.
To be fair, I wasn’t sure if self-employment was a good fit for me. It didn’t bother me that my network asked these questions, but it did sink into my story that it was a little crazy to be taking this big risk. And my, what an unusual, unfortunate, and possibly dangerous choice to make.
Can you see where this is going? If I think my career is a little crazy, obviously someone in a traditional career must also think that. And so I kick off the conversation with a hesitant description that distances myself from the fact that I work for myself.
There’s no ownership there. There’s no authenticity there. And so, there’s no connection there.
No ownership? No authenticity? No connection.
I told a story to myself based on an assumption I made about the person I was talking to… and I was wrong. As it turns out, the person I was speaking with runs her own business on the side and was a full-time solopreneur for many years. If I had come in with a little more confidence about my purpose and why I do what I do, maybe we could have chatted about that and really gotten to know each other instead of simply ending the call and considering a trial assignment.
The lesson here is not to change your story entirely based on who you’re talking to. The lesson here is to sit with your story and take ownership of it. Figure out what you’re holding onto about what other people think about your business (family, friends, more successful people, less successful people), and confront it with the truth. Then bring that truth to the call.
Tell Me Your Story
I would loooooooooove to hear your “before and after” story in the comments below. Who knows, you might meet and connect with someone who has a similar story and you will find your new Internet BFF!
P.S. Does that Unsplash photo freak anybody else out? That’s about as spooky as I get for Halloween!