ZKQ Blog

Selling Lesson Number Four: When Selling Begins

The most important, make that pivotal-life-changing-lesson I ever learned about selling came months after I had gotten over fear of cold calling, managing follow-up, and could work comfortably without a script. It came during a conversation with my boss, following a demo I had given to a prospect:

Boss: "So, how'd the demo go?"

Me: "The demo went fine, but they said 'No'."

Boss: "Kelly, selling does not begin until they say 'No.' Until then, you're just taking orders."

Talk about an Aha! moment. Up until then, what I thought was selling had been easy. I had been lucky. People liked me, like the product, and, apparently, were ready to buy. Yep, looks like I was really good at taking orders.

My boss and I discussed various strategies to employ for follow-up, not with just that one prospect but with anyone who turned me down or was not ready to make a decision. I learned that how and when to follow up are key to converting a "No" into a "Yes."

Realizing that things like the potential customer's buying cycle, their fiscal year, and their cycle of need for the type of services we provided were critical to planning when the next level of contact should take place. By understanding the impact of these factors, I could begin to build a targeted communication strategy that met the prospect's level of interest and gave me a better chance at making the sale.

My boss taught me this lesson during what can easily be seen as the appropriate "teaching moment." Had he tried to teach me this earlier in my training, the wisdom would have fallen on deaf ears. Now, whenever someone says "No" to me, I don't turn away or think that somehow I failed, instead I think "Let the selling begin!"

Selling Lesson Number Three: Learn by the script, but don't live by it

Once upon a time, I was hired to be a sales professional. During my first week of training, my boss gave me a script to guide me through the process of what to say when making cold calls and when hosting online demonstrations of our services. Being new and not wanting to making any mistakes, I was thrilled to have a script to guide me.

By the end of the first two weeks, I had grown very comfortable using the script and felt ready to face cold calling and hosting demos all by myself. Following the script made sense. My demos had a beginning, a middle and an end. I remember thinking “this sales thing seems easy.” 

Then, the unexpected happened. While giving a web-based demo and delivering my pitch via speakerphone to a team of top managers from a company considered to be a very hot prospect, the executive director —the key decision maker—asked to see a feature of our software that, according to the script, I was not to cover until near the end of the presentation.

I literally froze in my seat as the realization hit me: He had asked me to stray from the script. My script was the GPS that led me to closing a deal. How would I get there without it? Did I even know how to  navigate to that portion of the demo without getting totally lost?

The next few moments passed slowly. I was afraid to stray from the established path. In my mind, the workflow had to be this way or no way (certainly for demonstration purposes—after all, that's how I was trained!). I fumbled along as my confidence level lost speed.

I promised the director I'd get to that portion of the demo soon. Again, he urged me to change course. I realized right then I had to do what he wanted or I would lose any chance of making the sale.

Taking a breath, I gripped the mouse and clicked. I veered off-course, navigating a new route to our  destination. We arrived safely, exactly where he wanted to be. He was happy and asked me to send him a contract. A week later, the sale was a done deal and his company became one our top performing clients.

Years later, when I shared that story with my colleagues, I discovered they had all “been there, done that.” I had no idea. I was sure I was the only one who had become lost on the way to a sale. A sales script is a terrific way to set the course for success in selling, but know that, at some point, you will have to change direction and navigate your way on your own.

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Earlier posts in the Lessons on Selling Series: Selling Lesson Number One: Knock on Doors, Selling Lesson Number Two: There are no Dudes.

Selling Lesson Number Two: There are no Dudes

My second lesson in selling was also taught to me by my mother: There are no "dudes," only customers.

I was somewhere between the ages of 12 and 14 years old. Old enough, my parents thought, to let me help with gift wrapping in the jewelry store my father ran. It was a week or two before Christmas and the store was packed with shoppers. People were popping in and out of the store to browse, shop, or just to get in from the cold. A mixture of cigarette smoke, cologne, and bursts of fresh air wafted throughout the store as the radio blasted out Christmas tunes. It was the late 60's, when downtowns were still thriving centers of community and economy.

Sales men and women rushed to the backroom where the wrapping station was set up. They handed-off ring boxes, watches, bracelets, Cross pen sets and other finery for Mom and me to giftwrap. I had just finished wrapping a birthstone ring when my mother asked me who the gift was for. "The dude in the brown jacket" was my snappy answer. Mom stopped wrapping and looked me straight in the eye. "We don't have 'dudes,'" she said sternly, "We have customers."

I felt as though the wind had been knocked out me. I had crossed a line I did not know existed and, to top it off, I was the boss' daughter -- the same standards applied to me as they did to each and every employee regardless of their role in the store.

The door to the sales floor was ajar. I glanced through opening and saw the man in the brown coat patiently waiting for the lovely ring he had selected for someone special in his life. Embarrassed by my slang, and humbled by the elite status my parents placed on everyone who entered the store, I carried the small packaged wrapped in gold-foil paper topped with a small, perfectly shaped green bow as if it were the most prized possession on earth and placed in the customer's hands. I thanked him and returned  to the wrapping station to serve the next customer. 

My parents are no longer living and their downtown store has long been a distant memory for many, but every now and I then I meet someone who grew up in Martinsville, Va. and shopped at the Jewel Box. Every single one of these encounters ends with statements like "Your Dad was great! I loved shopping at his store! You Mom was so nice! They always took care of me!" Then we part, smiling, each knowing we had been part of something special.

Selling Lesson Number One: Knock on Doors

The first lesson I learned as a salesperson, was that you have to knock on a lot of doors if you want to hit your sales goal. I was 11 years old and my job was selling imprinted, personalized Christmas cards door-to-door in my neighborhood.

Selling is selling, at any age, and regardless of the product. I had a quota, a suggested script, a product demo, and a target audience.

My goal was to sell enough cards to reach the Gold Level at which time I could choose to get paid by check or make a selection from a list of products as my payment. At that age, I was not terribly motivated by money. A quarter could buy enough bubblegum and candy to keep me happy for at least a week. At the movie theater, 50-cents covered a box of popcorn and a Coke, but when I laid my eyes on that shiny, blue and white Schwinn bicycle, my goal was set.

I come from a selling family. Along with good manners, I had been taught a smile and clean appearance would help open doors. Mom called it “putting on a fresh face.” I had a lovely book of sample Christmas cards to select from and, my-oh-my how beautiful the gold, embossed lettering would look when printed with your name on the card and a “think of the time you'll save” pitch.

Each day, after school, I'd hit the streets, revising my pitch as I went along. If something I said worked well with one homemaker, I'd try it on another. Before long, I had exceeded my goal. I not only earned the bike but received a bonus check to boot!

The next time I hit the streets, I was coasting down the hill on my bike with my braids, flying out past my head, like two little flags, flapping in the breeze.

I did not think about the lessons I learned from that experience until I started working exclusively in sales and a colleague said to me, “You have to knock on a lot of doors, but eventually someone will answer.” How true.