My friend landed his first job in the marketing field. “Any books or resources or tips you’d recommend for marketing?” he asked.
There are so many different philosophical approaches (e.g. direct sales vs. permission marketing), digital vs. traditional (email vs. direct mail), parts of the funnel (acquisition vs. retention), and channels (e.g. social vs. SEO)… Where should you start?
Or, if I had to learn marketing from scratch, what would I do?
I’d start with foundational material first.
Note: We didn’t end up buying this property, but we learned a lot in a short time. I wanted to keep a record of lessons learned, as buying a house in Ireland is still something I’d like to do in the future.
My in-laws have a family home they’re looking to sell, in Cork, Ireland. It’s a 3 bed, 1 bath in Douglas, Co Cork, minutes away from University of Cork College. It’s a rental home that brings in €1,200 per month. They wanted to sell for €250,000.
Updated: February 15 2020
If you’re starting out your career or starting in a new field, then yes, you should work for free. Free work leads to two things: (1) Bigger, better opportunities and (2) It helps you reach the unreachable. We’ll dig into both reasons below. If you’re ready to work for free and just need some help with what to say to get free work opportunities, you can read my word-for-word scripts here. They’re free and available to be repurposed. Be sure to read this full article for the full context behind these scripts.
“Can you endorse some of my skills on LinkedIn?” my friend texted me. “I’d be happy to do the same for you. Just let me know.”
LinkedIn endorsements? I wondered. Do people look at those?
“I’m having a hard time landing full-time work, so I’m trying to boost my LinkedIn profile,” he explained. “Anything else you think I can do to stand out?”
This friend is a smart, good person. Eventually, a lucky company will snatch him up, and it’ll have nothing to do with his LinkedIn endorsements.
I told him the best way to find an awesome job that pays well was to start by working for free.
I saved the empty liquor bottles and filled them with water.
When the restaurant was quiet (we opened winter of ’08), the start of the Recession — it was quiet often) I took the rail liquors out. Placed them on the ground. Replaced them with the dummy bottles.
Then I practiced making cocktails. Over and over again. For hours, six days a week. That first week, I only made 4 cocktails, our most popular ones (Raspberry Saketini (it was a Japanese restaurant), Dirty Martini (for Tom, that’s all he drank), Cosmo, Mai Tai).
I learned with the jigger pour first, then free pour, measuring my portions against the jigger pours, testing my accuracy.
We kept a bartender’s book behind the bar. I don’t know who brought it, Jason maybe, our first bartender. Tall, lanky, a junkie. He made it through training but no-showed on the second day and no one saw him again. I started with the simple stuff, two-ingredient mixes college students and alcoholics drank to mask the taste of cheap liquor: Screwdriver, Cape Codder, Greyhound.
Then I learned the drinks I’ve heard from movies or weddings: Sex on the Beach, Tequila Sunrise, Sea breeze, Madras, White Russian.
Everyday. When there weren’t napkins to fold or salads to prep, I stood at the bar and poured water. Every step of the dance, from pulling printer tape and slapping it on the rail, icing glasses, different combinations of drinks. I wanted muscle memory, not knowledge.
That’s how I taught myself to bartend.
In 2010, I moved to Los Angeles to work in Hollywood. At my first internship interview, the assistant, Jeanie Wong, asked me how my coverage was. Great, I lied. I went home and my roommate showed me what coverage was.
A few months ago, my wife and I took our first proper holiday together in over 5 years. It was the first time going away for longer than a weekend that it was just us (no other family members). We went to Mexico City, then Puerto Vallarta.
My friend Susan introduced me to an interview with Ed Latimore on the Farnam Street’s Knowledge podcast. I finished listening to it while biking down 31st street in Astoria. I got off my bike, started the podcast over, and immediately listened to it again.
It’s hard to believe Conor McGregor’s physical transformation.
Today, I took a day trip to the Eleanor Roosevelt National Historic Site, the Val-Kill Cottage near Poughkeepsie, NY.
I was talking to Brian Balfour about retention and engagement, and asked him this question:
[blockquote]“Should you try to retain people at the onboarding phase, or try to resurrect people who have churned and are now dormant?”[/blockquote]
You see, I’ve heard arguments for both sides, but when I told Brian this, here’s his response:
Later he explained:
“A non-practitioner will make all sorts of arguments as to why it’s better to resurrect churned users (they’re already exposed, it’s cheaper, it’s a large audience, etc.). But a practitioner knows from experience it’s always more valuable to focus on new or current users.”
I just finished my second week at Reforge and if I had to sum up the week, it’s this:
I’m learning a new language — and it’s hard.
Reforge teaches growth professionals how to advance their skills in growth through online education, networking and mentorship. The students are 3 years into their career at companies like Facebook, Google, Dropbox, LinkedIn, etc. aka some damn smart people.
And after 5 minutes of talking with them, I realize I don’t have the vocabulary (yet) to talk through the ideas and concepts I’ll eventually teach, things like growth models, churn, and viral loops, just to scratch the surface. 90% of the time I’m just a smiling sponge in my chair, trying to absorb as much as I can.
That’s just part of the game. At I Will Teach, we called this “starting with a child’s mind.” The better you are at that, the easier everything else gets.
Fortunately, I’ve done my fair share of starting with a child’s mind. Years ago I moved to Los Angeles, with no idea that Hollywood had a its own language and cadence. I learned it slowly and painfully from scratch.