The Voodoo We Do
Bill Mayer has been working on his own in his Decatur studio for 25 years. He can take for granted that he’s one of the nation’s top illustrators. But there are still plenty of times when he has no clue where the next project is coming from.
"The fear of being slow never goes away, absolutely never. You just learn to live with it," says Mayer. "The fear that ‘no one’s ever going to call me again’ is second only to the first and foremost fear which is that they’ll find out you really don’t know what you’re doing."
Mayer will tell you not to even try to overcome that fear, because you can’t. The goal is to "embrace the fear," he says.
Although both his work and his personality are known for their colorful extremes, Mayer’s practical side kicks in quickly in a dry spell. "When I do get slow, the first day I really enjoy it," he says. "I take care of things like cleaning the studio, answering mail that’s been stacked up. And the second day, I get nervous. I start picking up the phone and calling people."
While discussing his general approach to business development, he tosses in this old standby. "The ESP thing works a little bit," Mayer admits. "I can think of someone I haven’t worked with in awhile and they’ll call. I swear, I don’t know why that works, but it really does. If I knew how to tap into that better, I’d worry a lot less."
Although contacting past clients (either telepathically or by telephone) can get things rolling again, trotting out your past work is not always the answer, according to Rob Brinson of Rob Brinson Photography.
"What I’ve learned, through being in this business for 25 years, is that the last thing that’s going to help me is to get out and run around and show people work I’ve done in the past," says Brinson. "They sense it’s a sales job."
What Brinson does instead is just start shooting. Anything. And somehow that seems to make the phone ring.
"Every single time in my career when my work was tapering off, the only thing I really had in my control was to be excited by my photography myself," Brinson says. "Potential clients sense that excitement in me, that whole sense of momentum."Brinson says it doesn’t seem to matter what he’s shooting, as long as he’s immersed in his work. "To be honest," he says, "I don’t even show it to them. If I’m shooting it and I’m excited about it, it’s cosmic waves or something. They call."
Art Director Keith Bennett of Bennett Creative uses a similar technique when he finds himself with time on his hands. "I’ll go to the fine arts section at the book store," Bennett says. "I think it causes chemical reactions in your brain that are beneficial. That, mixed with the latte."
Bennett also thinks it helps to keep current with the trade publications, despite some constructive advice he once received from a cashier when he was buying the latest issue of "Archive," the European advertising showcase. Bennett recalls, "She looked up at me with this real helpful expression and said, ‘Dude, don’t you know this magazine’s nothing but ads?’"
Writer Janet Reed, of See Janet Reed, Inc., recently added a little feng shui to her business. "I had been at a dinner party and this Chinese friend was telling me that what I need is a prosperity cat," reports Reed. "And he tells me about this feng shui store at Perimeter Mall." (For those of you who haven’t been to a Thai restaurant or a strip mall nail salon lately, prosperity cats are those ceramic figures with one paw raised to wave in the wealth.)
Reed promptly whisked her daughters off to the mall and together they picked out a really great cat. Not the $4.99 version, but a superior $40 model. "So we come home with this prosperity cat in its box," she says, " and I check the mail on the way in and there’s a letter from one of my clients saying we can’t pay you because we have no money."
"Right away I emailed my Chinese friend and he said, ‘First of all, let the cat out of the box. And second, face him towards the front door,’" Reed says. "Since then, I have had new work. And I was never going to collect from that dotcom anyway."
A Start-Up Plan Even a Father Could Love 
Of course, many creative entrepreneurs stick with a more practical approach. Steve Cox, President/Editor of Outback Editorial, is considered by many to be the most talented television editor in Atlanta. But he doesn’t take a hotshot approach to running his company. "I’ve always tried to structure my business in a sensible way, not overstaffing, keeping a close eye on overhead. So I don’t have to have enormous amounts of work to keep it going."
Ron Huey of Huey/Paprocki Ltd. says he and Partner Joe Paprocki never know what they’ll be doing four or five months down the road. "But we don’t panic too much anymore," he says, primarily for two reasons.
"One, we’ve been incredibly cost conscious and haven’t overextended ourselves," he says. Huey/Paprocki’s staff is lean and their office is located in the basement of the Highlands Inn. The décor is Spartan, but cool enough for other ad agencies to call and ask who designed the sleek ledge that displays their latest ads. (It’s something they picked up at Home Depot and screwed to the wall.)
"And two, something has always come through," he says. "We don’t know what we’ll be doing, but we know something is going to come through, because it always does."
Anatomy of the Creative Spirit
All that being said, creative entrepreneurs are not a group that tends to be particularly keen on sales. "I am the world’s worst marketer," says Brinson. "I do not call on people. I tell my students, don’t follow my example, you may die of hunger."
Veteran freelance Writer Harriet Frye doesn’t seem to like it much better. "I’m quite possibly the world’s lousiest businesswoman," she jokes. "My approach to a slow period tends to be panic, followed by denial, followed by more panic, until the phone finally rings again."
Let’s face it, the sort of brain circuitry that characterizes the creative temperament is light years away from that of a go-getter sales personality. Although a healthy helping of ego is not uncommon, enthusiasm for knocking on doors is generally lacking. As Brinson says, "It’s always hard as an artist to cold call and say this is what I do."
Mayer, however, takes a characteristically low angst approach to marketing. "I am not too proud to pick up the phone and tell people I’m not busy, and see if they have anything for me to do." (Unfortunately, a full discussion of Mayer’s brain circuitry would require more space than this article allows.)
The Good News Is You’re Slow
Many entrepreneurial creatives seem to view slow periods as a chance to do the things they really want to do, either in their personal lives or with a more personal direction for their creative work.
Nelda Mays of Nelda Mays Photography, Inc. says, "I welcome the break for a little while. I’m good for about three or four days." She enjoys her young son Noah, goes to matinees, and generally takes it easy until she feels like it’s time to get back to work.
Mays also plans on the usual slow periods at the holidays and in the summer. "That’s when I shoot my promos or take a trip and shoot stuff for myself," she says.
Frye says the desire for some ebb and flow is one of the reasons she started freelancing 15 years ago. She likes having time for other creative projects whenever her advertising business hits slow periods.
"I’ve concluded [the slow periods are] God’s way of telling me that I’m being granted time to do something else," says Frye, who works primarily with Atlanta agencies but lives in her hometown of Copperhill, Tennessee. One of her pet projects outside advertising has been "Ocoee Street," the column she writes for her local paper. Recently she published a book of her favorite columns, which is something she would have been hard pressed to do with a full time job.
Brinson doesn’t quibble about down time either. "Once I finally get the time in my schedule, I can either sit around and complain about not being busy, or I can do the stuff I usually complain about not having any time to shoot," says Brinson. Maybe that’s why Brinson has both a thriving commercial photography business and artwork hanging in several galleries around town.
Freelance Writer and Art Director, Cathy Carlisi, engineers slow periods on purpose. "The whole reason I resigned from working full time was to give myself more flexibility to paint and write poetry," Carlisi says. Originally her goal was to work 2.5 days per week. Although it hasn’t worked out exactly like that, she has managed to produce enough personal work to have three art shows last year, and to send off a batch of poetry submissions that resulted in the acceptance of one of her poems.
Of course, there are a few freelancers out there who are both in great demand and lousy at saying no. "I’ve never really had a serious ebb. I have small bouts of ‘not as busy,’" says Art Director/Designer Troy King, who tends to be chronically overworked. "Although I’m jealous of those freelancers who take the down time to enjoy life and have a little fun."
Take a Walk on the Wild Side
For the sake of argument, let’s say you’re sitting there in your corner office or your corner of the studio right now, mulling over the idea of taking the plunge yourself. Maybe you’re thinking, "What am I doing still working for that has-been goofball? All these people did it. How hard can it be?"
The cryptic answer is that it’s harder than you might think, but not so difficult as you perhaps imagine. Read on, for a little free advice from a few folks who’ve been there, done that.
"Try and develop strong business relationships with a small number of people, rather than a blanket mailing to 5,000 people," suggests Mayer. "Because you don’t need 5,000 people. You need 70 people who’ll call you back three times a year, or every two years, or whatever."
"Do everything you can while business is good, so that you’re prepared for slow periods. Because they are going to come. Be financially ready to ride them out," offers Cox. "In a nutshell, build a sustainable business."
"Use the down time constructively. Go to the bookstore, take classes, go to a museum," says Bennett. "Do the things you might not have time to do when you’re slammed, the things that keep your mind fertile."
"Make a little nest egg," recommends Carlisi. "I think the rule is three months income, so if you, God forbid, have three slow months, you could still feed yourself."
"Minor in plumbing, so you’ll have a back-up," recommends Mays. "Everybody always needs a plumber."
"You’ve got to create that energy and the work will come," Brinson promises. "Somehow or other, it’ll find its way to you."