who's the boss?

I received this seemingly innocuous email this week:

Hello Whitney,

Please provide a tracking number for PO 666.
Currently the ETA on this PO is 4/10, which means it would had to have shipped on Tuesday to arrive in time.  We need to know the status of this order immediately.
Thank You,
Annoying Fulfillment Manager of Very Large Store

Why did this email put my teeth on edge? Potter types already know. The not-so-subtle pressure to get an order out according to a retailer's own fulfillment schedule.  And I say "their" fulfillment schedule because I never promise hard ship dates, and in this case the 4/10 arrival date is a figment of some body's imagination. I always keep fulfillment dates loose to give myself the space I need to create these wholesale orders.  When planning orders with wholesale clients, I always say, "about 3-5 weeks" or whatever the time frame is, the key word there being "about."  Also, please note the "-" which means there is a 14 day leeway.

This makes me difficult to work with, yes, and I like it that way.  It filters out the riff-raff.  Also, I have a secret weapon, and this is what it is:  I don't give a shit about getting wholesale customers, or keeping them.  It's a defense mechanism that keeps me from losing my mind with wholesale clients. Wholesale is a pain, and I only work with people who I really like and who I think respect what I do and how I do it.  The most important clients to me are my own retail customers, the people who come to me directly and pay my full retail price. They are the ones who give me 85% of my income, and who have helped me build my business into what it is today.  They are also the ones I will turn myself inside out for to get an order to them on time.

The most stressful periods of my work life have been because of difficult orders with difficult wholesale clients, and I developed PTSD-like symptoms because of my experiences with them.  So reading this email, as mild as it may seem to some of you, sets off a stress reaction that is out of proportion to the situation.  I woke up at 4 this morning, burning with resentment, remembering that this retailer has already been put on probation after they were being ridiculous about an order a few years ago.  I told them at that time I would not be filling their current order or any orders in the future, and they actually pleaded with me to re-consider and promised to straighten up, which they have until now.

These stores want to sell the best stuff they can get their hands on, and find people like me to work with so they can deliver a unique and special item to their customer, yet they can't wrap their heads around the fact that I'm not cranking out a widget in a factory. And this person is clearly under the illusion that they are my boss or something, and I'm going to respond to pressure, or rush their order, or somehow work faster.  I'm the boss. I respond negatively and even passive-aggressively to pressure, and I do not work any faster  than I am already.

Dear Annoying Fulfillment Manager,
The status on your order is the same as when I first responded to the order: it will take 3-4 weeks to make and ship immediately thereafter. At this time I expect your order to ship sometime next week.  I do not commit to hard ship dates, as you should be well aware of after working with me for 3 years. Please keep that in mind when making status inquiries in the future.
Thank you,
Whitney

the cost

I just had to deal with a very clueless customer. He ordered a set of dinner plates from me that he clearly thought were too expensive because he wanted a discount (I didn't give him one,) then started hounding me within a week about when they would be done, and groused bitterly about how long he had to wait. This customer, by the way, will never be allowed to order anything from me again, I keep a blacklist right next to my bed and his name is on it. I made an attempt to explain the process of making a set of anything ceramic, why it costs what it does, and why it takes longer than 5 days, but I don't think I got through to him. In fact, this person seemed to think I was taking his money and putting him on the back burner just to make him wait even longer. Which, after that conversation, I did.

It must be said that this customer type is very rare for me, most of my people are incredibly patient and tolerant of delays. Recently, I was trying to send out a bird creamer/sugar set to a customer. It's almost always small stuff that ties me up in knots. First, the creamer comes out and the yellow glaze on the bird ran over onto the robin egg blue of the creamer itself. The yellow glaze is very runny, and you have to glaze it in a very particular way to mitigate the running issue. Sold that one as a second, contacted the customer that the order would be late, and went for round two.

This time, the bird comes out perfect, but there is a big pinhole on the side of the piece. At this point, it's been 14 days since the order was placed. I fill in the pinhole with a mix of clay and glaze-- a trick I learned from Joanna Mendicino-- and pop it into my baby kiln which can do a firing cycle in 12 hours from pressing the button to pulling out the pieces. The creamer comes out great-- no more pinhole-- but I put the handle up against the side of the kiln like a total rookie, so now I have some kiln brick attached to the handle. I stomp around in a circle of fury for 10 seconds, then grind the kiln brick off, touch it up with some more glaze, back into the baby kiln. Next day, a perfect piece. Final count for this one $44 creamer: 16 days, 2 separate pieces, 5 firings, including the bisque firing.

And for those of you wondering, this customer was totally cool about it and thanked me for my quality control. You are welcome! And the plates? Out of the seven I made, the four I actually needed came out perfect, shipped off to the persnickety customer, for which I received a half-hearted "thank you." You're welcome... I think.

love your customer, even when you don't

I worked a few jobs in high school that required constant interaction with the public, and I learned-- as did my supervisors-- that customer service was not my forte. People would get on my nerves with their foolish expectation that I should serve them quickly and politely. I would shake with indignation if a customer gave me attitude. Of course I was young and untrained, and I had little idea what the word "customer service" meant, only that it sounded like somebody else's job.

I thought being an artist and escaping into my studio every day was a great way to avoid having too many encounters with the general public. I have learned over the past 14 years that the best way to guarantee that you will be interacting with the public all the time is to be an artist who actually sells their work directly to people who want it.

The great thing about being totally wrong is that I've been given the opportunity to learn to be a person who can gracefully manage all kinds of encounters with clients and give great customer service. It's been a long learning curve, because inside I still have a piece of that teenager that gets very upset when people complain, or want something from me that I'm not prepared to give. I've alienated customers with snappy responses, defensiveness, and irritable behavior. I've learned that just makes me feel just as bad as the customer does, while not solving the problem I've been presented with.

If someone like me-- impatient, snappy, sarcastic, and easily irritated-- can learn how to give great customer service, well, anyone can. Here are some of my personal tips that may help you out:

• People are going to ask you for unreasonable things: Discounts, supersized, faster turnaround, insane glaze colors put together on one piece, ridiculous ideas for pieces that I have no desire to make. Don't waste your time getting irritated with people when they ask you for something you usually don't deliver. The customer probably doesn't understand your business, don't expect them to. I approach "unreasonable" requests with a mind set that while I may not be able to give the customer exactly what they are asking for, I'm going to give them something, a counteroffer, if you will. And I always frame it in the most positive way possible-- I never use words like "can't", "never", "won't", "no", or "are you crazy, Do I look like a freakin' machine?!"

• Don't take dissatisfied customers personally: No matter how good you are at what you do, some people are not going to be happy with what they receive from you. When I get customer complaints, I never get into a debate about how they feel or if they are right or wrong. I just apologize, replace the item if I can or refund their money, no questions asked. I don't get huffy about it, in fact I am relentlessly cheerful because I realize that most people do not want to complain, they are just so unhappy with my work that they have to. They already feel lousy. I don't need to feel lousy too, I need to make them feel better about buying from me.

• Don't be afraid to educate: In the same vein, there are times when a customer is complaining because their expectations exceed what I can actually deliver. A lot of my customers are first-time handmade ceramic buyers, and are used to the "perfection" of factory-made items. If I think a customer is lacking important information about why their piece looks the way it does, I cheerfully and without judgment take the time to educate them about my process. 99% of the time the customer walks away happy, a tad smarter, and with a new appreciation for the "flaws" their piece has.
  

• Never make excuses: There is nothing more boring than listening to people's excuses, especially when the listener is already annoyed with your fuck-up. Excuses are a roundabout way of asking for forgiveness and understanding, but get in the way of accomplishing the actual business at hand. Take responsibility for your lapse with an apology, and if necessary, a brief outline on the way you will avoid mistakes in the future. That's the way to earn forgiveness and respect from your clients.

• Lying is childish, don't ever make stuff up so your customer won't be mad at you: In the pottery biz, there are a thousand things that can go wrong, some of it out of your control: kilns misfire, glazes turn crazy colors, stuff cracks. I also make mistakes: I make things the wrong color or size, I forget orders, I drop things, sometimes pieces just look like crap. It's my policy to always tell customers the truth about anything that is going on with their order, I never try to shift blame by lying about the cause. Infusing any relationship with dishonesty is a way of trying to escape responsibility, and it always bites you eventually. It's pottery, not a heart transplant. It's not worth my own integrity to lie about it.
  

• Lack of gratitude ruins relationships: Always show gratitude to your customer by acknowledging their business and saying "thank you." Think that's obvious? It's not. Frankly, I'm disappointed by many independent sellers who don't take the time to acknowledge my order or thank me for my business. I never order from them again because it seems obvious to me that they don't really need my money. Every customer is precious, they are part of the framework that enables you to do what you want while many in the world do what they have to.

• Final tip- if a customer is being difficult, never answer them until you've given yourself time to think: Even when you think you have a handle on how to deal with a pain-in-the-ass customer, a period of consideration on how to respond never hurts. I had a difficult customer last week who I responded to immediately. A few hours later I thought of a better way I could have handled her, but since I broke my own rule about not responding immediately, it was too late to go back.

Giving great customer service is not just about serving your client, it's about spreading the love, making people happy, making their lives better and easier so your life can be better and easier. Do you have any advice, questions, or problems around customer service? Post about it right here.

august doldrums

I've been reminded that I have a blog and people like it when I post every once in a while. It's not that I don't have anything to say, there has just been a lot going on. I'm getting ready to leave for a 3 week trip to Europe in 7 days, and there's a lot of prep that has to happen because I'm leaving my helpers to manage things. Which makes me nervous. And testy. To deal with my testy nervousness I've been making martinis that are so strong they make my face numb. Martinis are really not a drink you should get into the habit of drinking. I wake up in the middle of the night apologizing to my liver and to the brain cells that I just killed, I feel so guilty when I drink like an alcoholic. And the most unfortunate thing of all is that it helps not at all for long-term relaxation.

Despite the hectic schedule, I feel like nothing is getting done, which is my default emotion for when I'm trying to do too much with too little time. People have been getting on my nerves, but I manage to maintain a superficially sunny exterior so no one gets hurt. I had my first negative feedback on etsy a few weeks ago. I already know there are unhappy customers out there, because I usually hear from them. This one, I heard nothing, just an ugly red "negative" post on my feedback page, with no commentary. I wrote the person immediately to ask them what was up, even though I was inclined to just ignore them since they already left negative feedback. But that would be poor customer service, and I never intentionally give poor customer service. Unless you are being such a bad customer that I have no choice. They wrote me back to tell me the creamer cracked-- or something, it was actually not totally clear what happened-- and it wouldn't hold liquid, so they were disappointed. I was so irritated by their total lack of recognition that they had other ways to deal with this--like maybe contact me so I could send them a new creamer--that it took me 4 days to respond. Taking that long to write a customer back broke my 24 hour rule, but every email I wrote was so hostile that I couldn't send it. I finally managed something bland and inoffensive:

I can't say for sure what happened with your piece unless I looked at it. Clearly, it seems you received a very rare defective item since all of my work is made to be useful and functional, not just something pretty to look at. I will replace the creamer, I hope that will resolve the issue. Let me know if this solution works for you and we will go from there.

Never heard back from the former customer, so fine, fuck off. Live with your cracked creamer.

Meanwhile, I've been working on this cool project for the Gamble House Garden in Palo Alto. The Gamble House is having a 25 year anniversary event and one of my good, long-term customers asked me to design an exclusive vase for them that would be sold as a fund-raising thing. Time to call in the Hector! All of these images are of the prototype vase I slaved over. The only unfortunate thing about this order is they want it glazed in the "bad boyfriend" glaze. I almost immediately started thinking about the brain cells that are serving me well today, but will die tomorrow as more rivers of vodka pour down my throat while I wait for kiln loads of vases covered in matte green glaze to cool down. I attempted to talk them into something else, but it's true that this vase will look best in the matte green glaze, so I had to concede. And then I immediately recruited Hector to do the glazing part too. I am merciless.

policing your policies

Over the years I’ve been forced to develop policies in my business. If you do not have policies in place, your customers will find that weak spot and exploit it, whether they mean to or not. I used to resist having policies, and frankly, I hate having policies. Like most artists, I like to have an open, fluid approach to issues and not be rigid with a policy or rule. And with everything else I do, I've had to learn the hard way that having policies is just part of having a sane business. For instance, I used to never take deposits on custom orders because I like to work for the money. Also, people can’t rush me when the piece isn’t paid for yet. I had to create a policy around deposits for big orders because of a person who ordered a huge dinnerware set and then never called me again after I sent her the first samples. I had to find out from her decorator that she did not like them and was done with the project. If she had $500 invested into the order she probably would have been more inclined to work with me on the design. That was very disappointing, but I couldn’t get mad at anyone but myself for not taking a deposit in the first place.

I thought I had myself pretty well covered on policies until I realized I didn't. I had a customer who bought a piece from me at a show last Christmas season, a gift, and this person asked me if he could exchange it if the recipient didn’t like the piece. What kind of fool doesn’t like my pieces in the first place, I don’t know, but apparently the customer was worried that he may know one. I made a mistake right then and there by kind of shrugging and saying, “I don’t really do exchanges, but if you get back to me right away, we can probably work something out.” What I should have said is, “You have x amount of days to make an exchange on anything you're not happy with.” I've been in business for well over 10 years and I so rarely encounter people wanting to exchange pieces that I never made policy around it. And that’s the problem so many artists have, being ambiguous with policies because they hate having to lay down the law.

Months later, I get a message from this customer, though I don't realize at the time that it's this exact customer. He asks me to open my studio on the weekend because he wants to bring his girlfriend over to select something. Since I think I have a sale on the hook, I have no problem opening in the middle of a Sunday afternoon. Turns out he didn't want to buy anything, he wants to exchange one of the pieces he bought at Christmas. It's possible I scared this customer a little bit with the steam that came out of my ears, but I did the exchange because I knew right off this whole thing was my fault for having a vague exchange policy. And now, the law has been laid down, and I have a hard and fast exchange policy.

Bottom line, don't be like me and let your mistakes dictate when you create your policies. Everyone who sells something should have a return and exchange policy that covers everything from breakage to lost shipping, a deposit policy, shipping policies, payment policies. In fact, just taking a look at the policies in etsy shops is a good place to start. Not only for yourself should you have policies in place, it also is assuring to the customer that they know what kind of experience they are going to have with you. It makes you look all professional and stuff.

As a side note, I know it makes some of you squirm when I talk about my annoying customers. Believe me when I say I have the best customers a girl could possibly want, except for about 1%. My most annoying customers usually teach me a lot, so they are not totally useless!

the cost

I have been following the saga fellow ceramic artist Heather Knight has been enduring with a nightmare customer. Nightmare customers usually do us the favor of throwing out red flags that they are a total pain in the ass, but they often come bearing lots of money too, so we ignore the red flags. Reading her latest post, it made me think about how we, as artists working to fill orders for customers, are affected by money, and how it influences our decision making process.

I have already been contemplating this question. Right now, I have an international customer who received a cake stand from me that they are not 100% happy with. Normally, it would not be a big deal to make a new one to replace it, but the international shipping cost on this baby is almost a 1/3 of the value, which changes up the dynamic a bit. But should it? Fortunately, my customer is not being a nightmare, and is open to my suggestions on how they may learn to appreciate the quirks of this particular cake stand. I thought the cake stand was perfect, and it's hard for me to imagine a harder critic than my own self, but I guess that is another issue. I've been thinking about this problem, and wondering what is the right thing to do here. How much money should I be willing to lose to make a customer happy? Should the specific amount make a difference? Should my international customers get screwed because I don't want to spend another $40 from my own pocket shipping out to them?

Within this last year, I made the decision for myself that I was no longer going to allow myself to get stressed out by orders. (Yes, I fail at this all the time, but I keep practicing.) Whatever amount of money I was getting for an order was not worth my body getting stressed out and the negative affects it leaves behind. I gave myself permission to simply return the money to any customer when an order wasn't working out, and not feel bad or even more stressed out if I chose to do so. Knowing that I can and I will do this really helps me deal with problem orders and the stress they bring. Also, to run a successful business, I believe that you have to lose money sometimes. One cannot get maximum return in everything one does, that is not realistic. Attempting to stay in the positive column all the time is simply going to lead to more stress. Losing money sometimes is actually just spending money, and we all know you have to spend money to keep a business running.

Breaking it down like this really helps me in making the right decisions: for myself, for my business, and for my customers. And now that I've reiterated my beliefs & practices about money and dealing with orders & customers to myself, it is clear to me that I know what I need to do with my international customer, if they decide they cannot fall in love with my perhaps slightly imperfect cake stand.

random bits

This week I've been completely wrapped up in finishing the Japan order. I will do a complete post-game analysis, with pictures, next week when the order ships, a full 10 days before my original ship date. More on that later. I've been glazing, day after day, which leaves me a lot if time to think. This is a sampling of things that have happened and stuff I'm thinking about.

Today, I had a client pop in. I donated a piece of pottery to him for a fund raiser, and he was returning a display prop. Naturally, I was very busy, and not in the mood to chat. Of course, this guy loves to chat, and he especially loves chatting with artists and supporting them by passing on his acquired wisdom and thoughts about art and creating. He said to me, "Don't go too commercial Whitney. It's your unique ideas and vision that keeps you viable in this market." "Yeah yeah yeah." was basically my response as I hustled him out the door. I gritted my teeth a bit with annoyance as I got back to work, then realized that this guy is an angel, delivering me a very important message, and I best heed it. My annoyance evaporated.

Speaking of annoyed, here's another note to self: do not press "send" button on email to customers when heart is beating at a faster rate than normal and your brow is screwed up in impatience and anger. I know this already, yet there are still times I do the exact opposite of what I know is the right thing to do. This is especially true when I am under pressure from other orders-- ahem--, or am lacking sleep. Last week, I had a customer ask for free shipping because their order was accidentally undercharged by about $50. I screwed up the coding on a "buy now" button on my website. A mistake, by the way, that the customer did not feel compelled to point out themselves, I just happened to catch it when I noticed a weird product code when the order came in. Yes, I do all of my own coding and website design. Yes, I am amazing, which I felt this customer was not fully appreciating as they tried to jab me for the $12 ship charge. I denied their request, huffily, from my phone, when I was in the middle of throwing pieces for the Japan order. Why am I checking email while I am throwing? Because my phone is encased in a clay-defying plastic case, so I can. Customer insists, while asserting they like to support independent artists over pottery barn and crate & barrel, but I really need to act like them when I "make an error" by giving free shipping. I raged all afternoon and into the evening, composing scathing and drop dead emails, which I fortunately did not take the time to actually compose and send. I didn't care about the money, it was the fucking principle. By morning, I was normal again, having had a full 9 hours sleep, which also meant I didn't care about the $12 or the fact customer felt compelled to point out my errors. I wrote a very nice email, patched the whole mess back up, and remembered to deal with annoying customer requests when I'm relaxed and fully awake.

I mentioned in a recent post that I do not have time to hedge orders at the moment. This means making a bunch of extra pieces to get one perfect one. I usually make at least one extra on special orders, or on orders that make me feel insecure. Often, this one extra insures that I get the perfect set of four, or whatever perfect thing I'm trying to make. It suddenly hit me the other day that the one extra I'm making may actually be the screwed up one, that the original set may have been perfect to begin with. Hmmmmmm. Something to think about. Hope everyone has a great weekend as I pack up my Japan order! If you live in the Bay Area, feel free to stop by with pork sandwiches, beer, and apples. That's what I like. Just don't stick around to chat, or you may find yourself hustled out the door as I eat your lunch.

what to do when an order goes off the rails

I've been plagued by difficult orders lately. I think there are always annoying little things happening at a pottery studio at any given time-- glazes bubbling, plates warping, lids sticking, all for no discernible reason-- and for me it's been one thing after another with different orders since the start of this year.

Usually when I get a special order, I like to make two of whatever it is, so I have a back-up and there are not undue delays on getting the order out of the studio. Sometimes, both the original and the back-up will fail, in which case I go for round three, which will usually take care of the problem. In fact, I strongly believe in the power of three, and my ability to pull off an order in three rounds or less. But my ability to do this has been mightily challenged in these past months. Right now, I have four orders I can't seem to get out the door. I've failed after three rounds on all of these orders.

It's so frustrating, and kind of depressing too. I hate to see my hard work collect in the shard pile. But here are a few coping tips I've developed over the years and keep me from losing too much sleep when orders are going off the rails:

• I communicate with the customer right away when there is going to be a delay. Nothing is more annoying for a customer than having to check in because their order isn't shipping, and then discovering from the artist there is a problem.  I do this to give myself a bit of breathing space and move up the ship date.
• I'm always completely honest with the customer about what's happening. I explain clearly what is going on without being too wordy, I don't make excuses, and I apologize for the inconvenience. This goes a long way to soothe any impatient customers.
  
• I don't worry that the customer is going to be mad at me. If they are mad that they can't get their pottery when they want it, that's a personal problem. They are my client, not my mommy or daddy. In other words, I keep it professional.
• Failed pieces are part of being a potter. They just are. You, me, and everyone else out there crazy enough to make pottery are always going to have failures. I do my best to accept it and move on. Sometimes I have to throw a little tantrum first, and that's okay too.
  

I think the hardest thing is when a client comes across as unsympathetic to the problem, or seems to think you are not even working on their order, OR implies their order is the only thing you should be working on. Many people are completely ignorant about how a pottery studio is run, the workflow of making, bisquing, glazing, firing again, and the many challenges at every stage of the process. I try to educate people without getting defensive, and when I do start getting hyped up or extra stressed, my go-to mantra is, "It's just pottery". Because really, that's all it is, and if a client is going to give me a hard time about an order, they are crazy. And if I'm going to give myself a hard time, I've lost perspective. And when I need perspective, I pretend like I'm a friend of mine, and what my reaction would be to watch this friend beat themselves up over a failed piece of pottery. Would I get in there and say, "Yeah, you really fucked that one up. Why don't you work harder?" No, I would not. I would say to my friend, "You are amazing, and you will do beter next time." And that's what I say to myself, too. Okay, I'm lying, I don't. But I try!

challenges on the customer service front

Remember how I wrote a post not too long ago saying how much I love my customers? Then I gave the caveat that sometimes you really have to tell a customer to fuck off when they are being a total pain. It's a fine line. This is an email I received from a customer recently. The person ordered a replacement plate after breaking one out a set of three. It took me a while to make it because it's a discontinued design, but I finally shipped it:

Hi Whitney, I received the new plate today and I do appreciate you going to the trouble to replicate the plate that I broke. However, the new plate doesn't really match it's partners. Not only is the deeper color wrong, which I know you did me warn me about, but the veining detail on the edges is so light that it is obscured by the glaze which appears much heavier and glossier than the original. The wonderful delicacy of the original set was one of it's most admirable qualities. I do wish I had known that you couldn't reproduce that look because if I had, I wouldn't have pressed you for a replacement. I know you tried and I do thank you for your effort.

When I read this at my vacation office in Tahoe I was instantly inflamed. My face turned red, my heart started pounding, and I immediately typed a curt return message : Send back the plate. I hit the "send" button despite years of my husband trying to train me to not respond to emails when I'm angry. He's always telling me to give myself time to manage the situation, not just react. Strangely enough, my email was not connecting and the message wouldn't send. I whacked the send button a few more times before I realized I was totally in reaction mode and I would be lot better off just deleting this email. Which I did.

I had to think about this message for a few days. The email seemed totally passive-aggressive to me. I had warned the customer that the glaze would be totally different, and now it seemed that's exactly what he was complaining about. Doesn't he realize I'm and ARTIST, not a ROBOT? It's not my job to replicate things, I whined to myself. Everyone should just shop at POTTERY BARN, I railed at my friends, people think you can just order up an exact copy and they can't deal if everything is not all matchy-match. In the end, I decided this customer needed to be sent to re-education camp along with fellow offenders. Doesn't this ASSHOLE understand that my work is unique and that's what makes it precious and valuable?

I finally composed, in my head, the perfect response. I pulled his message out if the trash and read it again, and suddenly realized it wasn't that bad. Annoying, yes. But worthy of my reaction, no. I had to laugh at myself. I can be completely nuts when I feel like my work isn't appreciated, and so defensive. I am so glad I didn't send that email, and I had a second chance to respond. This is what I wrote in return:

I can understand that you are disappointed, and I'm sorry if you thought I could reproduce something exactly. I thought you understood the new plate would look different from its partners. As you know, the plates were discontinued and I haven't made them in several years, and the glaze is the same formulation but something has changed to make it fire out differently. I can't reproduce my handmade things exactly, especially part of a set that was made together and then fired together a while ago. I hope that you can just enjoy it for what it is, and now you also have a great story to go with it. If not, you can send it back to me because I want people to love my work and be happy with it.

And of course the customer wrote back and said, no no no, they love it and want to keep it. Figures!

an addendum to customer service

I was reminded by my good friend Bronwyn that there are times you have to tell the customer to go fuck themselves, in fact you have no choice but to tell them to go fuck themselves, and I have been known to do just this. There are limits, and no matter how good you are, there are people who are going to step over the line and you can either tell them to piss off, or get trampled on by them.

The story that comes to mind happened when I was still sending orders directly to people's homes with an invoice so they could send me a check after delivery. In this particular instance, I sent a vase, I waited about 10 days, no check. I called the customer's home to give them a "friendly" reminder. The customer called me back and left a breezy message on my voicemail. "Oh," the woman said, "we are going to send it back to you, it's not exactly what we were looking for after all". Mind you, this was a custom-made vase in the $300 range, and I don't make anything for people to test-drive.

Realistically, I would work with someone to resolve this situation, because I don't want to force someone to buy something of mine that they don't like. But this woman's cavalier attitude was so out of line, and during this time I was still struggling to make ends meet, so her failure to pay me for my work was painful. But I could tell from her attitude that I wasn't going to be able to squeeze a dime out of her. I called up her voicemail and left her a long and scathing message, starting with, "I'm sure you buy a ton of stuff you don't care about and return to the store, but I am not POTTERY BARN!" That was a customer I definitely lost, and I was happy to let her go.

another rule of wholesale

Right now things are so hopping at the studio, one of my two kilns are always firing. I'm so glad my power bill is on auto-pay so I don't have to see how much energy I'm using. Can I just say that any ceramicist who says they are "green" is full of shit? Okay, got that off my chest. Back to the subject at hand. Things are hopping not only because I have a lot of wholesale orders, but I overbooked my orders and so we are behind. Not too bad, but still lagging.

For years with wholesale, I would pretty much wing it: I would take whatever orders came and try to space them out so I didn't get too bunched up. But when I hit Philadelphia the last time I decided to get a system. I sat down and tried to figure out how much pottery I could pump out in a week. I figured I could do $2000 a week, and I booked the time accordingly. I printed out a little calendar, and every time I took an order I would put the total on that week. When the total reached $2000-- more or less-- I would move on to the next week. Great system, if you know your limits, which I clearly do not. As it turns out, I overestimated just a teeny, tiny bit. I'm seeing the result right now. Late orders.

I try as hard as I can to intimidate my wholesale buyers so they won't bother me with pesky questions like, "where is my order?" and I have caller ID to screen out those calls. But still, it's kind of a drag to be late. Mostly because I have a strong desire to be organized and efficient, and when orders are running late I feel twinges of failure and guilt.

If you want to tackle the beast that is wholesale, you must be organized and realistic about how much you can create in a given amount of time. Us artistic types always think we can do more than is humanly possible; that's just a given. Know that this is true for you also, and when you consider what you can make in a week, cut it in half. Just do it! Because when you think about all the extra stuff that comes up, not to mention the days when you simply can't make anything, cutting your expectations in half is a kindness to yourself, and to those pesky wholesale buyers.