To Sell or Not to Sell?

Sales. Selling. Salesmen. Outgoing. Rejection. Quick responses.

The profession has never been my objective. I’m shy; only comfortable around those I know well. I developed a new respect for the art of sales when I first met my husband. At the time, he was a national account manager for a well-known local company. It was long hours, a lot of traveling, and many heated conversations, most involving negotiation. I was uncomfortable with it then- and because it was so intimidating, I busied myself working toward a career that was the exact opposite: writing. In fact, my “fear” of sales might actually be worse now because I've become so accustomed to remaining behind the scenes. When I write I don’t have to worry about getting nervous, responding in the wrong tone, uttering the infamous and equally dreaded “uhhhh”, or whether or not my outfit actually matches. Okay, it always matters whether or not my outfit matches. That shouldn’t have been in question to begin with… Anyway, when writing, I have plenty of time to think about what I’m going to say before I say (write) it, and even then most of the time it’s possible to edit what I’ve said, or at least clarify what I’ve said. There’s a comfort zone there that I like- a confidence comes out in my writing that I definitely don’t feel I portray in person.

That being said, I’ve always been okay during interviews, but when it comes to convincing someone why they should spend their money on my product, or why they should do anything, for that matter, my argument is weak. I don’t think quickly enough on my feet, and I need time to come up with a platform. That’s probably one of the major differences between my husband and I. He’s a talker, and generally speaking, I’m not. I’m a listener. So when he’s talking, I’m listening and thinking of points I want to make when he’s done. But because he’s such a talker, it’s usually a while before he’s finished making his point and by that time I have so many points to make I’ve forgotten half of them. I lose. He always tells me it’s not about winning or losing an argument (and by argument, I literally mean we debate topics: discuss and throw around our points of view, not actual yelling arguments) but I feel it’s a personal win if I can make my side of the story heard. When I make a strong enough case that causes him to stop and think “Hmm… interesting thought she has there…” then I know that my communication skills are sharp and clear and that’s a good thing. However, sadly to say, that doesn’t happen very often and when it does, I celebrate a little too much and discredit myself immediately.

Therein lies my dilemma.

I was recommended recently for an account management position with local publication, and I had to think long and hard about it. I was playing phone tag with the director of advertising and had thus plenty of time to ponder my options. The money they were offering was enticing; more than I make right now for the first several months, but after that it would be 100% commission. I hate to say it, but the amount of money being dangled in front of me caused me to sit down and evaluate exactly why I hesitated to jump at the opportunity in the first place.

I admit I’m intimidated by the profession; talking to people non-stop day in and day out isn’t exactly my thing, either. I consider myself an introvert.

At the same time, though, aren’t I going to have to “sell” my own work in the near future to get my freelance career off the ground? Aren’t I going to have to convince editors to publish my work? Will I not need these skills for the rest of my life? I’m wondering if perhaps my personality needs a little bit of an adjustment. In my own defense, it will be easier to sell my own work as opposed to someone else’s product because I’ll believe in it wholeheartedly. I’m not sure I could completely feel that way about other goods and services.

When the ad director and I finally made contact on the phone, I still hadn’t reached my decision on whether I was going to act like ad sales was my destiny and dream, or if I was going to respectfully admit I’m more effective through other print media.

About halfway through the conversation he asked what I was currently doing, what degree I’d obtained from which school, and what direction I’d ultimately like to head.

This was it. This was the moment I’d been waiting for. My head told me that if I acted genuinely interested, I’d get the personal interview and possibly the job. My heart told me that I’d regret waking up every day and trying to sell ad space to local businesses when that’s what every other ad sales professional in the city is already having trouble doing. Print media: the newspapers and all the local magazines are trying to stay afloat in this failing economy and the only way to do that is by gaining advertisers. I’m not in a place in my life where I want to try new things just for the hell of it. I’m comfortable with the outlet I’ve chosen to work with and being comfortable isn’t such a bad thing. I told him I planned on continuing my writing career and he politely admitted that he was indeed looking for a sales person, but that at the very least he’d pass my resume along to the editor in chief of the magazine.

I thought I might regret this decision. I thought I wanted to be the girl who “could do it all.” I was wrong. I want to do what I do well, and for that to happen, I need to focus entirely on writing. The fact that my heart told me to be brave and admit it wasn’t what I was looking for was a big step for me; my heart usually isn’t so outspoken. Because of this I know that I’ll be able to communicate when it comes to my work. The confidence in my writing will shine through when it comes to selling my writing.

I turned down money that we could all certainly use in this day and age, and I don’t regret it one bit.

That’s a good feeling right there.