Good morning, Vietnam!
Or, more accurately: Good morning, whatever freezing hellscape this is.
Yes, I know that’s not quite the quote.
I know the actual quote from Good Morning, Vietnam is slightly different, but it’s cold and I am currently operating at a temperature where historical accuracy is no longer a priority.
It is damned cold.
Properly cold.
The kind of cold where you wake up, stick one foot out from under the duvet, immediately retract it, and start wondering whether you actually need to get out of bed at all.
The kind of cold where the kettle becomes the most important piece of technology in the house.
The kind of cold where putting on a jacket feels less like getting dressed and more like preparing for an expedition to Antarctica.
And, naturally, I am expected to work.
Which seems unreasonable.
I have designs to make.
I have things to organise.
I have a library that needs attention.
I have products that need uploading.
I have things that could potentially make money.
But it’s cold.
So I don’t feel like doing any of them.
I Don’t Feel Like Working
There is something about cold weather that makes productivity feel deeply offensive.
You sit down at your desk.
You open the computer.
You look at the list of things you need to do.
Then you look at the blanket.
The blanket looks back.
And the blanket wins.
Every time.
You tell yourself that you’re just going to sit down for five minutes and warm up.
Five minutes becomes ten.
Ten becomes twenty.
Twenty becomes an hour.
Eventually you realise you’ve spent forty minutes researching whether penguins have knees.
They do, by the way.
Apparently.
This is what the cold does to productivity.
But here’s the thing.
I have to be honest with myself.
I can’t blame the weather entirely.
Because I would probably feel exactly the same if it were hot.
If it were 35°C outside, I’d be complaining that it’s too hot to think.
If it were raining, I’d be complaining that it’s miserable.
If it were windy, I’d be complaining that I can’t concentrate because everything outside sounds like it’s being dismantled.
If it were a beautiful sunny day, I’d be complaining that it seems criminal to spend the entire day inside working.
Basically, I have discovered the perfect system for avoiding work.
Have weather.
Any weather will do.
This is excellent news because there is always weather.
The Real Problem
The real problem is that sometimes I simply don’t want to work.
And I’m not sure there’s a particularly clever solution to that.
There are days when making things is fun.
There are days when I get completely absorbed in a project and suddenly realise I’ve been sitting at the computer for six hours.
And then there are days when opening the software feels like I’ve been handed a tax return and told to enjoy myself.
The annoying thing is that I actually like making the designs.
That’s the easy part.
I enjoy the creative side.
I enjoy experimenting.
I enjoy adding things to the library.
I enjoy looking at something I’ve made and thinking, “Yes, that’s actually pretty good.”
Then comes the difficult bit.
Getting anyone to know that it exists.
How Do I Market This Stuff?
This is where things get complicated.
I have designs.
I have a library.
I have things that I’ve spent a ridiculous amount of time making.
What I don’t have is a particularly good marketing strategy.
In fact, describing what I have as a “marketing strategy” would be incredibly generous.
I have more of a marketing vibe.
A marketing hope.
A marketing shrug.
My current strategy is approximately:
- Make something.
- Put it somewhere.
- Hope somebody notices.
- Mention it occasionally.
- Panic.
- Make another thing.
- Repeat.
It’s not exactly what you’d find in a marketing textbook.
Although perhaps it should be.
The Shrug Method: A Revolutionary New Approach to Digital Marketing.
Step one: shrug.
Step two: publish.
Step three: wait.
Step four: wonder why nobody bought anything.
Step five: shrug again.
Clearly, I need to improve this.
Unfortunately, marketing is one of those things where I immediately start overthinking everything.
Should I be posting every day?
Should I make reels?
Should I make videos?
Should I start a newsletter?
Should I be on Instagram?
Facebook?
Pinterest?
TikTok?
Some new platform that will probably exist for three weeks before being replaced by something called Blipster?
Should I be running adverts?
Should I be writing SEO articles?
Should I be contacting people?
Should I be standing outside a shopping centre holding a sign saying:
PLEASE BUY MY DESIGNS. I HAVE MADE THEM AND EVERYTHING.
I’m not sure.
I Suck at Marketing
There is no elegant way to put this.
I suck at marketing.
I can make the thing.
I can package the thing.
I can upload the thing.
I can write a reasonably long blog post about how bad I am at marketing.
But convincing people that they should actually buy the thing?
That bit is much harder.
I think part of the problem is that marketing can feel a little weird when you’re the person who made the product.
You know all the flaws.
You know how long it took.
You know the bits that didn’t work.
You know how many times you changed something that nobody else will ever notice.
And then you’re expected to walk into the room and announce:
“LOOK AT THIS AMAZING THING I HAVE CREATED.”
Which feels a little uncomfortable.
Especially when the thing is sitting on a website next to approximately fourteen million other things competing for attention.
How do you make someone stop scrolling?
How do you make them curious?
How do you explain what makes your thing useful without sounding like an advert written by a committee?
I don’t know.
If anyone has the answer, I’m listening.
Preferably while sitting somewhere warm.
So I Tried Something Different
I’ve put together a pack of the designs and listed it on Etsy.
The thinking behind this is fairly straightforward.
I’ve got a library of designs.
Rather than expecting people to buy things individually, I wanted to see whether there is interest in getting a bunch of them together as a bulk pack.
Maybe that’s more useful.
Maybe people like having a whole collection available to them.
Maybe they see more value in getting everything in one go.
Or maybe I’ve completely misunderstood what people want.
And that’s okay too.
Because this is partly an experiment.
That’s one of the useful things about putting something out into the world.
You can sit around thinking about an idea forever.
You can debate it.
You can analyse it.
You can convince yourself that it’s either going to be enormously successful or an absolutely terrible idea.
Or you can actually put it out there and see what happens.
The latter is generally more useful.
So that’s what I’m doing.
I’ve put the bulk pack on Etsy.
Now I wait.
And This Is Where You Come In
If you’ve read this far, congratulations.
You are now officially part of my extremely sophisticated marketing operation.
I have one request.
Please tell everyone.
That’s it.
Tell your friends.
Tell your colleagues.
Tell someone who might find the designs useful.
Tell someone who likes buying design packs.
Tell someone who has a printer.
Tell someone who doesn’t have a printer but inexplicably loves collecting digital files.
Tell your family.
Tell your neighbour.
Tell that person you know who is always looking for this sort of thing.
Send them the link.
Share the post.
Mention it somewhere.
Point someone in the general direction of the Etsy listing.
Basically, do the thing I am apparently incapable of doing properly.
Market it.
For me.
I appreciate it.
There. My Marketing Is Done.
And there we have it.
I’ve done it.
I’ve marketed the product.
I’ve told you about it.
I’ve explained why it’s useful.
I’ve explained why I’m terrible at marketing.
I’ve asked you to tell other people.
And, most importantly, I’ve managed to do all of this without having to learn how to make a TikTok dance.
I consider that a victory.
There may even be a business book in this.
“Marketing for People Who Don’t Like Marketing.”
Chapter One:
Tell Everyone.
Chapter Two:
No, Seriously. Tell Everyone.
Chapter Three:
Have You Told Everyone Yet?
Chapter Four:
It’s Cold. I’m Going Back Under the Blanket.
Actually, that sounds pretty good.
I might buy my own book.
So, yes.
The designs are available.
The bulk pack is now on Etsy.
I’m testing the waters to see whether people are interested in getting the designs as a collection rather than individually.
If there’s interest, I’ll know I’m onto something.
If there isn’t, I’ll know that too.
And then I’ll probably make something else.
Because despite everything I’ve just said, I do actually enjoy making things.
I just don’t necessarily enjoy the bit where I have to tell people about them.
Which is why I’m relying on you.
This is your opportunity to become part of the marketing department.
There are no meetings.
No performance reviews.
No corporate jargon.
No mandatory team-building exercises.
Just tell people about the pack.
That’s the whole job.
I’ll even let you work remotely.
Preferably somewhere warmer than here.
Because did I mention that it’s cold?
It’s damned cold.
And I’m pretty sure I’ve now done enough work for one day.
I’ve written a blog post.
I’ve marketed a product.
I’ve asked you to market the product.
I’ve successfully avoided learning anything about modern digital marketing.
I’d call that a productive day.
So I’m off.
I’m going to make a cup of tea, find the warmest piece of clothing I own, and sit somewhere under a blanket while pretending that this is actually part of my carefully designed entrepreneurial strategy.
And if anyone asks what my marketing plan is?
I’ll tell them:
“I’ve put it on Etsy. Please tell everyone.”
There.
My marketing is done.


Leave a Reply