Give In...But Don't Give Up

Some years ago, I made a decision. If the world was going to hear about my story design firm, if I was going to land corporate clients and entrepreneurs, the word had to get out. And so, I decided to do something I had never done before.

I would hit the road for 5 weeks traveling all across the US and Canada giving speeches to whoever would listen about my company and its ability to design a revenue-generating story for individuals and businesses alike. I had no idea what was about to happen.

As I was planning for my "Story Tour" I was looking to speak anywhere that would have me. Any place that was populated by entrepreneurs like co-working spaces or chambers of commerce. A lot of my venues booked were WeWork locations as my teaching and the needs of their clients seem to pair well. I hit the road.

I started out on the east coast. Philadelphia, Baltimore, Washington D.C., and even Wall Street in New York. In some cities I spoke twice at separate locations, in others, I spoke and then headed back to the airport to go to the next city. At times, the crowd would be 20 people or more, but in other locations, I was given the kitchen as my venue, and the only attendees were the dishwashers taking a small sandwich break. They would glance up in between bites to see me passionately talking about how to tell a story.

About three weeks in, I was trying to keep my spirits high but admittedly, they were in the dumps. I knew the proprietary process I had created for telling a story was effective. I knew because, by the time I went on this tour, I had already ghostwritten several successful books for clients. The difference this time was, selling my IP on the road. I felt like a carpet salesman talking to homeowners with hardwood floors.

After finishing the east coast, I headed to Toronto. It was my first time in Canada and I found it, well, different. I was speaking at the WeWork downtown in the financial sector. This appearance had a pretty good turnout. Several questions were asked and there were several post conversations, but no new clients. The next morning I got up at 4:30 am to get to the airport. My next speaking event was in San Francisco. When I did the math, I had already spoken in 7 cities, spent thousands in travel and lodging, and had not made one penny.

That morning at the airport in Canada was traumatic. Traumatic because for some reason, the system did not recognize my passport. The gentleman said, "You aren't coming up as an American citizen." I smiled with the kind of smile that says, "You really need to stop playing." It took about thirty minutes for the issue to be worked out and I had never been so happy to get back to the US in my life.

I was in San Francisco, then I spoke in Silicon Valley (San Jose), and then back on the road to head for two engagements in Los Angeles. The first one was in Hollywood, and that is when my life changed.

By the time I arrived in Hollywood, I was mentally, physically, and spiritually exhausted. The tour had not turned out like I thought it would. The participation was low, and I had not been hired. I was running out of money fast, and running out of encouragement even faster.

I remember sitting in the back of the taxi while heading to the Hollywood location. I remember because I was sweating so much my shirt was stuck to my back. I didn't have time to check into a hotel so I had all my luggage with me. The Hollywood location was the one I planned for the most. I contacted an event planner in LA, sent flyers, and tons of emails, and printed a lot of collateral to hand out to the attendees.

The taxi dropped me off on the opposite side of the street. I grabbed both handles of my luggage and ran across before the light changed. I looked down and saw I was on the walk of fame. I can recall the sound of my torn luggage wheels rolling over the golden stars of celebrities past and present. Lucille Ball, and so many others. Just then, I arrived at the entrance and told the lady my name.

"I'm Dennis Ross, here for a speech today."

"Yes," she said. "You're in that room over there," pointing behind her. It was 12:30 pm and my speech was at 1:00.

Quickly, I took out all the branded pens and writing pads, organizing 50 of them on the desks next to the chairs. The room had a large glass window that looked out into the other areas of the workspace. I could see people working as I was setting up. By 12:45 the room was ready. I was ready.

The presentation I had given for the last few weeks had been tweaked and was in perfect shape for my biggest show yet. I figured I had a few minutes for a restroom break so I ran out and got back by 12:50.

At 1 pm I stood at the front of the room that seats 50 with a smile on my face waiting for those who signed up to show up. 1:10, 1:20, 1:30. No one walked into the room.

"Maybe they don't know I'm here," I thought to myself. So I walked around the building knocking on office doors telling all who would listen that the "How to Build a Story" seminar was about to start.

1:45, 2:00. Still no one showed up. I was devastated. 5,000 miles from home and after planning for weeks not one person showed up, and this is the moment when my life changed.

At 2 O'clock knowing I only had another 30 minutes before the room reservation expired, I went to the front of the class and said;

"Good afternoon everyone. It is a beautiful day in Los Angeles and I am so excited to be here with you. Today, we are going to discuss the power of story, the strategic use of a story, and how to build one for your business from the ground up. Let's get started."

For the next thirty minutes, I spoke to an empty room as if it there were a thousand people in attendance. I asked if there were any questions every ten minutes, laughed at my own jokes, and even complimented the hat of an imaginary young man sitting in the back of the room.

Half of the way through my presentation, a man walked by the glass and saw me speaking to nobody. I'll never forget his face. He got the attention of some of his friends and pointed to how stupid I looked talking to no one.

After thanking the room for their attendance and waiting for the imaginary applause to fade, I packed my unused pens and pads putting them back in my luggage. Turned the lights off and rolled my belongings past the front desk where the lady asked me, "How did it go?" to which I said, "It went well."

At some point, you come to a point where it all goes bad. This is the place where giving up would not be a strike against you. This is the place where going into another line of business would be understood and applauded. But before you give up, hesitate for a moment. Let your tears dry, and get a good night's rest, because if you stay in the game after this moment of defeat, you will be forever unbeatable.

Sometimes you have to give in to a temporary disappointment, but never give up on the permanent goal. Business requires strength, and there is no stronger man living than the one who already died. Stay in the race, my friend. Stay in the race.