Persistent Seeding

The third Saturday morning of April broke windy and colder. The warm weather that the region had been enjoying recently was a memory. The weather had begun to turn the night before, but Marsha had spent about an hour in her garden anyway, carefully removing some debris that had disturbed a seeded area and making sure that everything was getting enough water—she did this most evenings after getting home, especially in the fragile early growing season.

When Marsha woke up, she could feel the chill in her bones. “I wonder if I caught a cold working in the garden last night,” she thought.

But after her initial foray into the sales garden the past week or so, nothing short of typhoid fever would keep Marsha from heading down to Rawlings Garden Supply that morning. With her approach to planning reinvigorated, and with a small sale from an old customer, Marsha already felt that she was beginning to make progress with Gardener’s sales garden philosophy. She was aware of being more lighthearted and optimistic than she had been in a long time as she hopped into her truck and headed down to Gardener’s store. After a quick stop for some coffee and fresh blueberry muffins, she arrived at Rawlings Garden Supply at about five minutes before nine. Gardener was there with Maddie, sticking tags in the soil of some potted plants.

He nodded at Marsha and walked over to her. “Good morning, Marsha.”

“Morning, Gardener—morning, Maddie,” she said. Maddie returned the greeting and then picked up a couple of plants and headed out into the nursery yard. Marsha leaned back on the counter and said, “Ready to go, professor?”

“You bet!” Gardener answered. “I thought about your situation last night. I spent some time reading a magazine article about successful salespeople—what they do to sustain their accounts over the long term. It was a good read. You know what I discovered?”

“What’s that?” Marsha asked.

“Well, there was a lot about character, integrity, and ethics. But there was also a lot about persistence— about figuring out what works, and replicating those successful actions over and over—best sales practices, if you will,” he recalled. “There was a story in there I especially liked—a case study, I think—on best practices. It was about a salesman who figured that he only had to work so hard once he got an account. Now, I know a million guys like him. They think that all the hard work goes into getting customers. Once you capture the business, they figure, it’s all gravy from then on. You know, freebies, long lunches, or whatever else they do to maintain the relationship.”

“But that doesn’t work,” Marsha said. “That never works.”

“You’re right,” Gardener replied. “Shifting into lower gear once you establish a customer base always leads to flat and then declining sales.” He grabbed a paper towel from behind the counter and wiped his hands. “Now, translate that story to our sales garden and what have we got?”

Marsha knew where he was going. “In the sales garden, it’s all hard work before and after the seeding— even the harvest. But if you do it right, it’s so rewarding. It really can’t be any other way.”

“I believe so,” said Gardener. “But what does the hard-working guy have that those golf course guys don’t?”

“Passion?” Marsha asked, hesitantly.

“Exactly. Passion,” Gardener said. “If you view the process of taking care of your customers as fun and rewarding, just as we do when we tend our gardens, then you’ll take the time to do all that hard work, and you’ll do it gladly.”

“Because if you don’t,” Marsha said, “then you’ll have an unkempt sales garden that will choke on weeds and bugs and other garden pests. It could even die of neglect. But how do you translate that passion into actual sales strategies?”

“Well, a lot of it rests in persistence,” Gardener replied. “If you’re persistent in defining your personal best practices—applying those passionately and rigorously with your customers—you’ll do better business and build momentum to do even more business.”

He took a moment to help a customer find some heavy-duty gardening gloves and some pruning shears. Marsha waited patiently while Gardener joked with the customer and finished the transaction. He waved good-bye and turned back toward her. “So Marsha, what do you think some of those best practices are? What works for you in your business?”

Marsha hadn’t thought about best practices much—she was into doing whatever it took to get the sale. “I don’t know, being a good listener? Knowing what your customers want?”

“That’s a start,” Gardener said. “But what I’m talking about is at a different level. I’m talking about figuring out a way to know more about your accounts than any of your competitors do, and using practices that ensure that the account will keep doing business with you, not a competitor.”

Marsha nodded. “Yeah, I think I get it. One of the guys I work with religiously conducts quarterly business reviews with his top ten accounts—he swears that he always uncovers new needs they have, while getting good feedback on how well he and the company have served the customer over the past three months.”

“Good, good,” Gardner said. “And I'll bet he only does the talking a small percentage of the time, encouraging the customer to talk more by asking questions and listening. That’s what constitutes a good sales review meeting—it frees the customer to talk to you about what’s really going on.”

“That’s true,” said Marsha. “It’s so tempting to jump into every interaction with a sales pitch—that’s got to be a turn-off at some point. But you see so many salespeople that do it—if they don’t have their spiel for the day, they don’t know what to do!”

“You know, Marsha, you are so right. That single practice—persistent belief that the customer should do most of the talking and the sales representative most of the listening—is a key determinant of long-term success. Of course, asking the right questions is just as important.”

Marsha shook her head. “Yeah … I guess a lot of sales pitches are like feeding every plant whether it needs it or not—you can kill a few in the process!”

“You got it,” said Gardener. “Just that one practice, persistently applied, would go a long way toward achieving successful account sales.”

Marsha reflected for a moment. “Hmmm … like making it a persistent practice to be there the first time a customer tries a product, either in person or by telephone. That surely signals above-and-beyond caring and allows the customer to interact with you at their time of greatest uncertainty.”

Gardener gave Marsha the thumbs-up sign. “That’s right. Hey, if the persistent use of proven practices works in your garden, why not in your sales life?” He paused a moment and then said, “Come to think of it, I copied down a quote a while back that made the point really well.” He rummaged around in a drawer under the counter and brought up a folded piece of paper. “Listen to this: ‘Nothing in the world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent.’ Pretty good, huh? At the end of the day, wise sales professionals understand and practice that.”

Marsha thought, “Oh yeah, Calvin Coolidge. I’d forgotten about that one.”

Gardener put the paper away and then waited on another customer. As he finished the transaction, he smiled and asked after the man’s family. Marsha thought it was like watching an artist at work, he made relating to customers look so easy.

“You see, persistence is a constant, dynamic process,” Gardener said after the customer left. “Right from the start, you’re seeding in a persistent and determined way, and then, when you’re nurturing, you’re listening deeper to what your customers are asking for—even reading between the lines and then checking out your assumptions by asking questions and listening with fresh ears. You’ve got to think that each customer is different, just like each of your plants, and each needs to be treated individually and with great care.”

Marsha knew that Gardener was right. In her opinion, the industry term “Always Be Closing” (“ABC”) should really be “Always Be Asking” or “Always Be Listening.”

Just that week she’d met with a life-insurance agent about upgrading her policy. During the opening minutes of the meeting she was very pleased that the agent was asking all the right questions: What were her life plans? What were her estate needs? She felt good about the guy until he pulled out his sales book about twenty minutes into the meeting, clearly having decided that he had listened enough, and launched right into his rote presentation. Marsha recalled thinking it was as if the timer had run out on his listening and questioning skills and he was going to sell her what she needed. She left the meeting thinking, “This guy doesn’t care about me or my situation; he just cares about making his sale, then going to lunch.” Her good first impression had changed to a negative one—that the insurance agent had heard it all before and simply did not have the discipline or sincerity to listen to her. Needless to say, the agent did not get her business. She wanted someone who cared about her and her needs. She wanted his full attention even if he’d heard the same story a hundred times. Because for her, it was the first time.

“I see what you mean about persistence being a constant process,” she said to Gardener. “I think what makes or breaks a sales rep is being persistent in asking specific questions, listening closely to the answers, and solving problems for the customer until they’re happy. It’s just like in your garden. You need to be persistent when you’re seeding, when you’re nurturing, when you’re tackling weeds and bugs, and when you harvest. Otherwise, you won’t get the results you want, and this piece about knowing your personal best practices and replicating those—that’s worth exploring further.”

“But a lot of salespeople never realize the importance of persistence,” Gardener replied. “Let me tell you something. I had been following a customer for months, making regular phone calls, sending e-mails with information about the industry that might be interesting to her company, and from time to time stopping in for lunch. I thought I had a pretty good relationship going. So I turned my attention to some other new customers who had great potential. When I got back to my original customer—the one I had been following for months—I was told that her company had just purchased a new performance system from a competitor. Hell, I thought, I have a similar system that could have easily been customized to fit their needs! So I asked my customer why she hadn’t called me. You know what she said? That they hadn’t heard from me for a while and didn’t know that I carried this type of product. I had forgotten that customers’ memories are often short, and turning away from them—even for a little while—was enough for them to forget about me. Out of sight, out of mind, you know?”

“Oh, brother,” Marsha said. “That just goes to show you. I guess we assume a lot about what a customer knows about our products, and how frequently they think about us if we aren’t persistently in touch with them.” She shook her head. “Sounds like you had a weeding problem there, too, Gardener. After all, somebody swooped in and took your customer’s business away when you weren’t watching.”

Gardener nodded.“Mm-hmm. In the sales garden, competitors are like weeds that are always lurking in the shadows ready to plant their own seeds. Sometimes, when you least expect it, they show up to take advantage of the fertile soil that you have painstakingly prepared. You just turned away for a moment. So after losing that piece of business through neglect, I adopted a practice of always ‘touching’ every customer twice a month, minimum, by phone, e-mail, letter, sending an article—you know, persistently letting them know I’m out there and very committed to meeting their needs.”

Suddenly there was a sound of tires crunching on gravel, and Gardener and Marsha looked up to see Jake wheeling into the parking lot, gravel flying. “He’s going to wreck his car someday, driving like that,” Gardener said, shaking his head. He walked out the door, Marsha trailing him.

“Wonder what some of Jake’s persistent practices look like—he’s in an entirely different business,” Marsha mused.

Gardener chuckled. “Well, one thing’s for sure— you won’t have any problem getting him to talk about them! And I bet they’re consistent with the practices we’ve identified, even though the sales environment that Jake works in is really different.”

Marsha smiled as she and Gardener exchanged pleasantries with Jake. They all walked back into the shop, and Jake helped himself to a blueberry muffin. “So what’s on the agenda for today?” he asked, to nobody in particular.

“Persistence, old friend—doing what works, over and over because it works,” said Gardener. “Something you have in spades, right?”

“You’re right about that,” Jake replied thoughtfully. “In my business, if you’re short on persistence, you’re toast. You know, Marsha, a lot of people don’t know this, but Walt Disney was fired from his first job. His boss said he didn’t have any talent. But Disney persisted, and now everyone remembers him and nobody remembers the boss.” He laughed at his own joke, Gardener joining in.

“Seriously, Jake, what practices make up persistence for you?” Marsha asked.

“Honestly, guys, it’s as simple as knowing who you want for customers, then getting to know their business better than they do. I know that sounds tough and boring, but that’s it for me. In my personal vision, I know what kinds of accounts will yield the ‘big deal’ results that I want at this stage of my career. And between the Internet, The Wall Street Journal, the local papers, and diligently digging for answers when I’m on-site, I’ll bet I know more about the business essentials of my customers than most of their employees. I call it ‘account profiling.’ I know my industry inside and out—not just the people—and I use that business knowledge to go places with my customers that the competition hasn’t even thought of. That’s how I keep the weeds out!”

Marsha said to Jake, “Wow—that’s persistence! I never would have guessed you were that dogged on the business and financial side.”

Jake laughed. “Yeah, I guess I don’t lead with that, but it’s the only way to win over the long term. I watch the wheelers and dealers, and great relationship people … you know, remembering every birthday, calling the customers’ kids by name … That’s all fine, and I do it, too. But you still have to water your plants regularly or they’ll wilt on you.”

“You know, I had an experience a while back,” Marsha said. “I met with a prospect whose company had just branched out into our region. Big potential. So I whomped up a great proposal and made another appointment with her. But she canceled. Tried again. She canceled again. The next time we made an appointment, I just showed up at her office and waited for her. But an hour went by and no sign of her. Just as I was about to leave, she called me on my cell phone in a panic saying that she was down at the hospital with her sick mother, who had cancer and wasn’t doing too well. She apologized left and right and told me to wait there—that she’d be back at the office in a half hour. I expressed my condolences and waited just like she requested. Sure enough, she showed up on time. But I made a point of not discussing any business that day. I’d had a sick parent, too, so we talked about that, and how hard it is to see a loved one in so much pain.”

The shop was quiet. “It’s not that I didn’t want the sale,” Marsha continued. “Because I did. Very much. But she wasn’t in the right frame of mind to talk business, so I didn’t bring it up. But the very next day I got a call from her assistant asking for the paperwork to complete the deal. In a weird way, I guess, persistence and sincerity really paid off.”

A customer walked into the nursery yard, and Maddie went to see if he needed any help. Jake, Gardener, and Marsha were silent for a moment. Marsha felt comfortable in the silence. Then she spoke again. “Actually, I owe my career in sales to persistence, although I didn’t realize it until just now.”

“How so?” asked Jake. Gardener perked up, waiting for Marsha’s answer.

“I was a senior in college and was graduating in two months. I saw an ad on a job-center board for an entry-level sales rep at a radio station in Boston. I asked an employment counselor there about the job. He shook his head and said there’d likely be two hundred candidates for such a job.

“I didn’t have any experience in radio ad sales, but I knew I’d love the job. Being from the Boston area, I’d listened to the station growing up. All rock and roll all the time. So I sent my résumé in and heard nothing. I re-sent it, and still nothing. Determined to get an interview, I called the radio station directly and spoke with the manager involved directly in the hiring process. She didn’t want to meet me at first, but I persisted, telling her how much I loved the station, that my father was in sales—anything I could think of to get my foot in the door. Finally I happened to mention that my uncle taught at Boston University. Turns out the manager had gone there and had taken one of my uncle’s classes. Ultimately, I was finally able to pin her down for a time to meet. By this time, though, the radio station had narrowed the original two hundred candidates down to less than ten. Even so, I wound up getting the job.”

Gardener smiled. He loved those kinds of stories. Jake was grinning, too. “Why do you suppose they picked you?” he asked.

“I was wondering the same thing,” Marsha replied. “I found out later on that the reason the company had chosen me over all the other candidates was that the radio station manager had heard my story—about my repeated attempts to get my foot in the door. Apparently he got a big kick out of it, being a former salesman himself. He told me a few weeks after I was hired that my determination and enthusiasm had made the difference. He said that the main requirements were for someone who was self-motivated, was persistent, and knew how to knock on doors. In short, someone just like me.”

“Great story, Marsha,” Jake said.

Gardener concurred. “Yep, great story. Let’s end it on a high note this week. And let’s keep in mind that it’s up to each of us to find and replicate the practices that work best for us with our customers.”

Gardening Time

Wednesday Midday

Marsha sprinted to her car, having just left a two-hour lunch with Brian, the guy who had chosen her competitor over her company in the latest capital-equipment purchasing process.

Her thoughts were swirling. Just a week ago, she had been ready to disavow having ever known this guy! After all, he had been a customer of hers since the beginning; they had kind of grown up together in the business. He had received two promotions, each one giving him more power to buy more of what she sold. And until last week, the relationship had always gotten her to the finish line.

She started her car and pulled out into the light early-afternoon traffic. It was 45 minutes to her next call, and she had plenty of time to get there, for a change. Instead of putting in her favorite Van Morrison CD, she decided to reflect on the events of the past week—take advantage of a little quiet time.

“To be honest,” she told herself, “if I hadn’t gone down to Rawlings and had that heart-to-heart with Gardener, would I have done what I did today? Let’s look at this closely: Here’s a long-term customer who’s finally in a position to give me the deal of my dreams, and what does he do? He gives it to a competitor— and not just any competitor, but the competitor that he knows I like the least! I was livid!”

She veered onto the expressway, her mind a blur. “My normal MO would have been not to speak to this customer for a month, at least. Instead, on Monday morning, with the ‘ vision’ of my sales garden in mind, I started thinking differently, and by 2 p.m., to my amazement, I picked up the phone, called Brian, and invited him to lunch at his favorite spot … hmmm.

“Brian’s initial reaction had been surprise, then feigned outrage—‘You’re not planning an ambush, are you?’—and then acceptance. ‘Well, sure, I would love to!’

“And it couldn’t have gone better! Sure, we talked about the unpleasant stuff—why I didn’t get the business—and to my surprise, I learned something. Brian had gotten some pressure from above not to have all of his business with one company—mine!

“And the funny thing was, when I thought of Brian and his business, which is growing fast, and his statement that he sees me as integral to the future success of his business, well, I hate to say it but the garden metaphor applies. Sure, I have some growing pains. And my ‘harvest’ has been temporarily derailed. But as long as I stay persistent and rely on my strong relationship with Brian, my garden will thrive—and I have a new ‘best practice’ to boot!”

As Marsha pulled into the parking lot for her next call, she thought. “Maybe there’s something to this gardening thing after all!”