December 9, 2010

“Never Get a Real Job”

By Erik

Scott Gerber’s new book Never Get a Real Job is marketed to 20-somethings who find themselves looking down the long barrel of a traditional career path thinking, “Is that all there is?”  But I’m here to tell you, it’s for ANYONE who wants to start a business, young or old.

Gerber’s writing is relentless, his passion in on his sleeve, and he pulls no punches. His main messages: You are not entitled. Starting a business isn’t easy. And the chances that you will fail are great. But fail you must, many times over.

First, he knocks the wind out of you with a reality punch to the chest. “Nothing will go as planned. Ever. Plans change, businesses change, and markets change. Your world will be flipped upside down on a daily basis.”

Thanks for the pep talk, Scott.

For the faint of stomach, the early chapters are disheartening. Some people just aren’t hard wired for business building. But if you get past that, he takes you through the valuable steps of how to get from fanciful dreams to actually closing deals and seeing black numbers on your balance sheet. (I particularly enjoyed the One-Paragraph Startup Plan.)

I wish I would have had this book in my 20s. But all I know is I’m almost 40, and I’m glad I have it now.

Never Get a Real Job is only $14 on Amazon. Get it for yourself, or your entrepreneur-in-waiting for Christmas.

Posted in Entrepreneurism, Survival | 5 Comments
December 5, 2010

A Different Kind of Funding for a Different Kind of Film

By Erik

A few weeks ago, I joined a rag-tag team of do-gooders to launch an alternative fundraising site for our next film, “Lemonade: Detroit.”  The idea is this: you buy individual frames of the film a dollar. In return, you get producer status both in the end credits and on IMDB.

Why am I so excited about this?

First of all, I take great personal satisfaction in giving my perceived obstacles a beat down. If Hollywood studios aren’t lining up to produce my film about Detroit’s reinvention, it’s on me to find another way.

Second of all, it’s working. In just a few weeks, 750 producers have funded almost 19,000 frames. Blue Cross Blue Shield of Michigan has agreed to match funds through the end of the year. And the momentum is gaining.

On top of everything else, it provides a framework to crowdsourcing that I can get on board with. While I’ve always been intrigued by the potential of crowdsourcing, most  existing models have rubbed me the wrong way. Too many rely on tons of effort by tons of people for a very slim chance of reciprocation.

What excites me about Buy A Frame is that the effort/reward ratio is pretty even. Invest a dollar and three minutes of your time in a single frame of the film, and you’ll get your name in the credits. Invest the same amount of time with a $24 investment, and you’ll get a digital file with your second of the film, along with your name edited into it, as well as an invite to the premiere. There’s an actual return on your time and investment. Everybody wins instead of just me.

Will we be able to fund the entire film like this? Let’s put it this way, in a 90 minute film, there are 129,600 frames. In theory, we could shoot a feature length documentary for less than $130k. But that would require favors, an abbreviated shooting schedule, and sacrificing some crucial spit-and-polish post production. So on top of BuyAFrame, we’re also seeking additional corporate sponsors to get behind the film.

Not to mention, part of the mission for “Lemonade: Detroit” is to put Detroiters to work. And if all we’re doing is accepting favors, then it tips the scales in favor of an out-of-town filmmaker. And that’s just not what this film – or the spirit of Detroit – are all about.

Posted in Crowdsourcing, Detroit, Lemonade | 3 Comments
November 29, 2010

Why I am Socially Media Promiscuous – by Lisa Hickey

By Erik

The following is a guest post by Lisa Hickey, who appeared in Lemonade and said what was, to me, the most profound line in the entire movie. “Don’t be the person out there looking for a job. Be the person out there doing something interesting.”  This is an excerpt from her article in The Good Men Project Magazine. Read the entire piece here.

_______________________

In December 2008 I walked into a Starbucks. “Are you Erik?” I asked a guy who was scanning the room looking for someone. “No, sorry.” We laughed awkwardly. I sat at a table and waited for my Chai tea to cool down. Finally, Erik walked in, recognizing me right away. “It’s been a while,” he said.

Erik Proulx and I had worked together—for a week—about 10 years earlier. We hadn’t talked since. But Erik had just been laid off from his job at a large advertising conglomerate and needed to network. “I don’t know why I called you,” he said, frankly. “I’m just trying to connect.”

Erik had started a blog called “Please Feed the Animals” to help laid-off ad people like himself. At the time, I had never read a blog. I was, however, excited about the potential for Facebook and Twitter as networking tools.

I had 300 “friends” on Facebook, an amazing number, I thought. My daughter Shannon laughed at my efforts. “How many ‘friends’ do you have today, mom?” she would say, using her favorite hand gesture, the air quote.

Admittedly, I was “friending” people for the wrong reasons. Was it was an ego thing, something I was doing to make me feel better about myself? Check. Was I competitively trying to rack up more friends than everyone I knew? Check. Was I sending friend requests to people I thought were funny, smart, clever, and popular in hopes that people would think I was funny, smart, clever, and popular? Check, check, check, and check.

More than once I was told, “Sorry, I save my Facebook connections for my “real” friends.” Ouch. (I soon recognized that if someone already had 400 friends or more, they weren’t so worried about “real” friends.)

“I’m having an online chat for out-of-work ad people,” Erik said. “Could you join and talk about your experience on Facebook and Linkedin?”

I stared down at my Chai tea and tried not to groan. The last thing I want to do is brand myself an “out-of-work ad person.” What will my Facebook friends think?

Erik wasn’t even a friend, not in the way I had previously thought of friends. I didn’t remember if he had one kid or two, or if he lived on the North Shore or the South Shore. Heck, I hadn’t even recognized him. But Erik was trying to help others, and he needed help himself. I could see how what I had learned might be especially helpful to out-of-work ad people, so I agreed; I logged onto his chat the next day, and told people about my experiences with Facebook and LinkedIn.

♦◊♦

Malcolm Gladwell taught me the value of “weak ties.” In his book The Tipping Point, Gladwell cited a study showing that most people got jobs not through friends, and not through traditional means like headhunters and ads, but through acquaintances—people they knew but saw rarely or occasionally.

According to Gladwell, 56 percent of jobs are acquired through these “weak ties,” while only 18 percent are found through ads and headhunters, and just 9 percent are found through good friends.

This is an actionable piece of information, the kind I like best. After reading Gladwell’s book, I spent 56 percent of my time working on my weak ties.

♦◊♦

Erik’s online chat was a bit of a dud. I was excited about where I saw social media going, but the other participants were less than enthralled with my contribution. “The last thing I need to do is join another social network,” one wrote. Then, Sally Hogshead typed four words that changed my life: “Have you tried Twitter?”

Sally (a speaker, author, and branding expert) explained why Twitter is so valuable—especially to job seekers. “You can follow influential people, see what they are talking about, and join in the conversation.”

Five months later, I was standing in front of a crowd of 70 people, where I had been asked to speak about social media. In just a few months, I’d been branded as a “social media expert.” I’m careful never to call myself that, but I didn’t have to. All I had to do, it turned out, was get 13,000 followers on Twitter and talk about social media a lot.

♦◊♦

I had been socially awkward for most of my life. I’d show up in social situations and not be able to remember if the person I was talking to was married or divorced, had one kid or three, was Republican or Democrat. They would ask me questions about their my life and I couldn’t think of what to say in return.

Half of me was worried I’d let slip something stupid about my life, and the other half was scared that I would totally screw up what I should have known about their life. In almost every conversation, I was filled with anxiety; usually, I would say as little as possible and leave the room. I rarely spoke on the phone. Work was a safe haven, because the conversations were safe, scripted and professional. I worked a lot.

In the summer of 2008, right before I made the decision to get on Facebook, I read an article in The New York Times by Clive Thompson called “Brave New World of Digital Intimacy.” Clive wrote about something social scientists call “ambient awareness”:

Each little update—each individual bit of social information—is insignificant on its own, even supremely mundane. But taken together, over time, the little snippets coalesce into a surprisingly sophisticated portrait of your friends’ and family members’ lives, like thousands of dots making a pointillist painting. This was never before possible, because in the real world, no friend would bother to call you up and detail the sandwiches she was eating. The ambient information becomes like “a type of ESP,” an invisible dimension floating over everyday life.

Ambient awareness made perfect sense to me, and I felt that it had been missing my whole life. My fear of interaction and social situations meant many lost chances at making meaningful connections. A form of ESP—some way of knowing enough about people’s lives to be able to have a comfortable conversation—was exactly what I needed.

Like Gladwell’s concept of weak ties, the idea of ambient awareness was a piece of information I could act on. All I had to do was get in the rhythm of seeing what was happening in people’s life through status updates and other postings; that way, when I connected with them in real life, I could have a conversation. I knew where someone was working. I knew if his or her relationship was “complicated” or not. And not only could I recognize them, I could recognize their kids.

The running joke about Twitter was, “who wants to know what breakfast cereal you’re eating?” The answer? Me. When in doubt, I could have a conversation about Cornflakes.

♦◊♦

Lisa Hickey is CEO of Good Men Media Inc.

Posted in Guest Post, Karma, Networking, Pontifurbation | 8 Comments
November 9, 2010

Passion or Paycheck? Yes.

By Erik

In a recent conversation with a kick-ass photographer friend, I asked why on Earth she wasn’t doing it full time. Everyone who knows her knows she has a gift. She’s done a couple of projects that have gotten her some pretty decent buzz. Clearly, she should be taking pictures for a living, right?

Not according to her. In my friend’s mind, once she’s shooting for money, it would cease to be meaningful. Her work would become “work” and her motivation would then shift from passion to paycheck.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love her ideals, however misguided. She’s been snapping pictures since she was barely old enough to say cheese. And I appreciate that she wants to hang on to that passion, that love, that desire, and not let a thing like money take that away from her.

But I’d like to cite two examples from “Lemonade” that prove her logic is bullshit.

First, Bob Weeks: For two decades, Bob roasted coffee on the side, as a hobby. Then he got laid off from his ad gig, put a $10k roaster on a credit card, and now does it full time.

Think he likes coffee any less? Think every time he makes a pot of coffee, he thinks, “Oh, man. I used to love roasting coffee. But now that I’m getting paid for it it’s such a grind.” (Pun intended.) If anything, Bob is more passionate about his craft than ever. Now that roasting coffee is directly tied to his livelihood, he’s constantly searching for new beans, experimenting with new roasting methods, testing new coffee concoctions. Bob’s having a blast. And he’s running a successful business not in spite of his passion, but because of it.

Second, Kevin Kearns: Once upon a time, Kevin was an artist in his spare time. Never sold paintings for money. Art was nothing more than an expression and an escape for him. That was, until his freelance advertising business dried up.

Kevin then decided to pursue his hobby as a career. He painted and painted and painted some more. He moved out of Manhattan and into the country. Now he sells 40-60 paintings every year, and his work is on display at the Stricoff Gallery in NYC.

Now, there are times when passion and money cannot co-exist. “Lemonade,” itself, was one of those examples. Other than a couple of hotels and a few meals for the crew, the production budget was exactly zero dollars. It was a passion project for everyone involved. The crew, the director, the producers, the cameramen . . . they all did it because it was a project they believed in. And because of that passion, the film got their best efforts.

If I had a $10k, $20k, or even a $50k budget, I would have had to place parameters around their efforts. Even though everyone involved would have appreciated the compensation, it would have become a day’s-pay-for-a-day’s-work exchange. Instead, people contributed for reasons more valuable to them than money. And there’s no doubt in my mind it was a better film because of it.

But this is not the case for my friend. Money would not sully her passion for photography. It’s inside her. And it’s important to realzie that who she is and what she gets paid for don’t have to be mutually exclusive.

If you can earn a living doing what you love, you owe it to yourself – and the people who would pay you – to at least explore that possibility.

Posted in Entrepreneurism, Gentle Nudging, Lemonade, Pontifurbation | 14 Comments
October 18, 2010

Quick. Time.

By Erik

Note: This post originally appeared in the3six5.

Two years can feel like an eternity. A president can go from savior to pariah. Cancer can form and remiss and return again. Careers can take enough twists and turns to leave you wondering if there’s any point in wondering.

Yet, two years is a blip.

We get so caught up in singular events that it’s easy to forget how time erases the gravity of most everything. Yes, we will always remember where we were the day the planes struck. And the death of a loved one can have permanent, often scarring effects on those by whom they are survived. But the truth is, most seemingly monumental occasions are mere specs on the timeline. What feels devastating in the moment can, with hindsight, be traced back as the genesis of a positive, life-changing shift.

Getting laid off falls into this category. It’s crushing. It feels like the end of days. And for a period of no more than 48 hours, it’s acceptable to be in that space.

But the best advice I can give the suddenly unemployed is to put yourself in the two-years-from-now mindset. Find a way to really, truly grasp that you won’t be homeless. You won’t be dead. Your family and friends will still be your family and friends. If you have to move in with your in laws? It would suck. But you know what? It’s a roof over your head. And it’s temporary.

In the universe of big events, a layoff is really quite tiny. As much as you can, trivialize it. Make a molehill out of a mountain. Free your mind from the anxiety of demise. Because once you do, it’s supremely liberating.

Today marks the two-year anniversary of my own most-recent layoff. I cringe when I hear people say, “take it from me.” But take it from me: The worst that can happen is rarely the worst that can happen. In the past 730 days, I’ve blogged, freelanced, made movies, started writing a book, and directed commercials. And none of that would have been possible if I hadn’t lost my job.

October 15, 2008 seems like yesterday. Yet it feels so long ago.

Posted in Pontifurbation, Survival | 19 Comments
September 30, 2010

Hungry, Hungry Creatives – by Brad

By Brad

This year, the advertising business has been a victim of a brain drain. Some of its top creative talent abandoned executive, and in some cases, CCO posts at agencies such as Saatchi & Saatchi, DDB, JWT, BBH, and the like. So what’s happening out here? These are (were?) coveted positions with big salaries and perks, all for a job that’s not your buttoned-up, grey-suit kind of job. You can wear jeans, travel a lot, and be the “creative voice” in the room of important business folk.

Well, just maybe as it turns out, the gig just ain’t what it used to be. Traditional media is declining, and so is the whole belief system that a brand controls its image. Clearly, a brand’s image belongs to consumers, who made up their minds long ago about what they think of Apple, Nike, GM, IBM and their choice of canned black beans. Exercising creativity in advertising is becoming harder and harder. If consumers aren’t prone to listen, or are just tuned out of traditional media altogether (thank you Internet, DVR, iPod, video games and declining print readership), then advertising becomes big companies and brands talking to themselves.

Those in advertising who are paid to foster all this creativity find that their jobs are harder than ever. Everyone is trying to understand new media in a world where new becomes old very fast. TV spots don’t have the reach they once did. And whatever clients want, they want it cheaper. No wonder so many big names have left the building.

So what happens to all this unused creativity? Where is it going? Here in New York, I’m noticing an abundance of new and unusual food trucks with tempting menus. Also, a lot of their marketing is done cleverly, online, through Twitter feeds and Facebook updates. People want to know where the Belgian waffle truck is, as well as the one that sells upscale slushies (tea and coffee flavors), and the one that sells $2 pastries. And graphically, most of these trucks look have amazing color choices and logo design. Are food trucks the new advertising?

It makes sense, doesn’t it? The new food truck movement is what everything advertising should be. It’s creativity at its core, with the advantage of appealing to people’s sense of taste and smell. As for the product itself, you can dress it up, market it, put it on the street, and the people come running, money in hand. Best of all, they come to you. No focus groups. No meetings. No conference reports. And if anyone makes a fuss, the people next in line will vocally (if not physically) encourage the nay saying party to step aside. We want our grilled cheese and milkshake, dammit.

Don’t get me wrong, plenty of ex-CCOs are opening their consultancies or directing documentaries or something of the sort.

But I think making and selling authentic spicy Louisiana gumbo (sorry, no hyperlink) out of a Chevy Suburban would be way more fun. That and I’d get to go home by six.

Brad Mislow likes to eat.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments
September 16, 2010

“Lemonade: Detroit” Trailer Done(ish); Seeking Sponsors for Feature

By Erik

We just finished the trailer for “Lemonade: Detroit.” Truth be told, it’s still not done-done. It needs a logo treatment. There are some small mix issues that need adjusting. It could use a (much) better web site.

But at this stage, it was more important for me to get it out there than it was to make all four wheels gleam to a shine. The way we’re going to get sponsors so we can shoot the feature (before the weather gets too crappy in Michigan) is to generate some buzz beforehand.

I’m glad I did, too. Because it’s only been up for two days, and the chatter is already incredible.

Have a look at the preview. Let me know what you think. To be clear, this is not yet a feature film and we are actively looking for sponsors to make it so. If you have any connections to a brand that wants to get behind this project, or even a philanthropic rich uncle who wants to generate positive change in Detroit, please let me know. You can also download the sponsorship package here:

DOWNLOAD SPONSORSHIP PACKAGE

Thanks again for all your support. Hope you enjoy the preview for “Lemonade: Detroit.”

Cheers,

Erik


Posted in Detroit, Lemonade, Shameless We-Promo | 8 Comments
September 13, 2010

What’s Up With PFTA?

By Erik

I’m facing a conundrum.

Once upon a time, Please Feed the Animals was a “blog for the recently unemployed advertising professional.” The mission was singular. It was simple. This was going to be a place for people in the biz to support each other in their quest for work while riding out the shitty economy. With the help of so many people, we were even creating a portfolio site and job board for y’all to showcase your talents. It was gonna be awesome.

Then a funny thing happened. People wrote in that they were using their layoff-induced downtime to re-evaluate things. Many of the Animals weren’t all that interested in getting back into advertising.  A lot of you were changing careers, starting your own businesses, and downsizing the stuff in your lives so you could more easily pursue your passions.

I decided to make a film about you called “Lemonade.” And in the process I fell in love with the pure form of storytelling that is documentary filmmaking.  I was hooked.

I started ingesting as many documentaries as I could, including “Surfwise,”  ”Baraka,” “Hoop Dreams,” “College, Inc,” and every episode of “This American Life.” Then I shot a trailer for my next film, “Lemonade: Detroit.” I was even hired to direct a series of short, branded-entertainment documentaries for Dell computers. (Both of which will be out very soon.)

This is all to say that in following my own advice, as well as feeling inspired by everyone who was part of “Lemonade,” my own passions veered away from advertising. While early on, I wrote often about the state of the industry and how fucked up it is, lately I find myself not caring. I simply no longer give a shit about who’s doing what for what agency. I do care deeply about my friends’ successes and frustrations. But the business itself is a barely-audible ping on my sonar.

Which leaves a big question mark about what to do with this blog. My dear friend Brad Mislow has been picking up some of my slack. But he recently got a new, hours-heavy job back in the business, so his blogging time is minimal.

I’ve thought about handing it over to several people. Maybe auditioning for several writers who could contribute a couple times a month. People who could keep things positive, interesting, and sincere.

I’ve also considered making PFTA a space for all things reinvention. Creating a whole business out of it. Books and blogs and films and seminars geared toward people who would like to stop defining themselves by what they do and start doing what they are. I may still do this. But the truth is, I’m still tinkering with who I am. Right now, today, I am a film director. And that’s a full-time commitment.

So as I have done so many times before, I would like to ask you what you think. What are your ideas about Please Feed the Animals? Where would you like to see it go? Can this be an open-source space for everyone? Is there a model I haven’t thought of yet?

If PFTA isn’t a “blog for the recently unemployed advertising professional,” then what is it? And what should it be?

Posted in Crowdsourcing, Entrepreneurism, Pontifurbation, Survival | 15 Comments
August 13, 2010

Someone’s Getting a Job. Is It You? – by Brad

By Brad

The economy blows. Advertising firms are still trying to make sense (and money) from the digital revolution. The unemployment figures get scarier by the month. Who the hell can find a job nowadays? Creative people. That’s who. In fact, after The Big Ad Gig takes place this fall, a few lucky ones will find themselves gainfully employed at impressive global advertising companies (yes, they still exist).

The second Big Ad Gig’s big event on September 30 in New York. By that time the candidates will have been chosen, the work will be ready to present and the judges will be poised to make a decision about who gets added to the payrolls. It’s all done live, in front of an audience at the Times Center. So you know, no pressure. Those judges, by the way, are some pretty big names: Ty Montague, Andrew Keller, Tham Khai Meng, Andreas Combuechen, Jimmy Smith…you know, creative directors who can put you on the payroll and get you an office and stuff. But you got to show them what you’re made of. The deadline is August 23. Directions are on their website, thebigadgig.com.

Now here’s the inspiring part. Last year, a handful of budding creatives were out of school, working menial jobs and just trying to scrape by. Anna Lippert-Haczkiewicz came to Chicago from her native Poland to get a portfolio together at the Chicago Portfolio School. She was working at Starbucks. She entered. Her idea was among the winning entries. She got a 30-day gig at Atmosphere Proximity that turned into a full-time job as an art director. That’s where she is today. Recession be damned. If she didn’t enter, she’d probably still be making tall lattés today. Or folding sweaters at the Gap. Or spending another frigid Chicago winter staring out the window.

But she’s not. She’s working. As are two of the other winners from last year – at Ogilvy and Saatchi & Saatchi. In real creative departments. Getting real paychecks.

I know in the end it’s only very few people who end up employed. But hey, it’s a way in. If you’re one of those people who just can’t get a email returned about a job opening, this could be your chance. They’re asking for entries. They want to hire someone. There’s nothing to lose.

So, are you in?

Brad Mislow is, well, Brad Mislow.

Posted in Gentle Nudging, Job(s) Of The Week, Jobs | 1 Comment
July 30, 2010

The Year of the Reaper – by Brad

By Brad

Well, this feels weird. So here it goes. Since you all (or y’all, depending on what side of Maryland you’re reading this) are my online buds, I’ll share some news about me since writing my first post on this blog a year ago.

Don’t Fear the Reaper, for some strange reason, remains the most read post on pleasefeedtheanimals. I honestly don’t know exactly why. At the time I was without a full-time job for the first time in my career. Yet, for some reason I still don’t understand, I was feeling was tremendously positive despite my layoff and uncertain future. I felt it was within my power to reboot my career. Still, the economy last summer was just plain awful. Like many of you, I was wondering from where my next paycheck would come. I should have been freaking out. When I sat down to write, I found the right voice. It was funny. It was upbeat. It was me. I’m humbled that so many of you have read the post and continue to do so. Thank you. Over and over again.

Since then, amongst my frequent online ramblings, I found a lot of freelance work at various agencies, and did a decent job being an independent soldier of copywriting fortune. I felt fortunate to have found work when I did. Honestly, I think a lot of it was luck. My father always told me, “you make your luck,” and I believe there’s truth to that. Even though I secretly wanted the big TV shoot with the travel and the craft services table and the wrap parties and everything that makes advertising fun, I was happy to accept under-the-radar digital assignments and direct pieces. They kept the lights on, the kids fed, the bills paid.

As fortunate as I felt to be finding steady freelance, recently, a full-time job presented itself. I thought long and hard about it. I remembered my last post about someone who turned down an offer in a weak economy. I looked at the news about the continued fickleness of a recovery that just won’t settle in. I accepted. And I’m working with good people who I want to grow with. Perhaps this is my chance to reboot, and to laugh in the face of “the reaper” who I wouldn’t let get the upper hand.

Maybe I’m just having a good year and should simply accept that with the deepest humility. Or maybe I should smugly tell the reaper to take a hike. I’ve got ads to make.

Epilogue: If the happy ending of this post turned your stomach, or made you throw up a little in our mouth, then here’s a hyperlink to agencyspy, where there’s an ample supply of snarky comments to fulfill one’s daily dose of cynicism.

Brad Mislow is a senior copywriter and just wants to please you.

Posted in Karma, Layoffs, Survival, Uncategorized | Tagged , , | 2 Comments