Not the hero

Everyone and everything is on a journey. On the hero’s journey, the hero leaves the mundane, travelling into a place of wonder. There, they encounter the other – something inhuman in some way – but overcome it, and travel back changed, perhaps better.

In bids, we start from the beginning, there is a problem (or problems) to overcome, we overcome them, we reflect on the path we’ve taken and it’s happily ever after. Or perhaps there are some wounds to nurse and hard-won wisdom.

Many bidding companies (perhaps even some bidding professionals) picture themselves as the knight riding in to save the buyer, who is a damsel locked in a tower or perhaps needed to be awakened by a kiss from her true love. We know best practice says that the proposal should focus on the buyer, but as the protagonist, it’s difficult not to make yourself the centre of a bid.

But – hold on – you’re not the hero.

[You're not one of these people]

You’re the horse.

In Robin McKinley’s great YA fantasy “The Hero and the Crown” published in 1984, the protagonist is Aerin, potentially illegitimate daughter of the king. She struggles to find her place in court and eventually discovers her purpose as a dragon slayer. She’s supported to fulfil her destiny by her father’s old warhorse, Talat, who carries her to the battles she wages, supports her, and makes sure she’s able to make it out of the war.

The horse can’t be the hero – for story reasons, it needs to be Aerin, it’s her destiny. The horse isn’t even there for the whole story. The story wouldn’t be as compelling if it wasn’t about the hero. But Talat plays a critical role in enabling the hero to slay dragons, save a kingdom and (spoilers) live to see it through. And Aerin is able to ultimately achieve everything she achieves because she was supported by Talat at a critical time.

[You're not this guy either]

When we write a bid and it’s all “our company, we do this, we do that”, we’re trying to write a story where the horse is the hero. And that doesn’t hold the buyer’s attention – to them, they are the hero. People almost always want to be the hero of their own story, and if you can place them in the centre of the story you craft around them, then you’re much more likely to hold them. Then you can talk to them about the dragons you'll slay together.

So next time you suspect your bid is a little too focused on you and not quite enough focused on the buyer, step back and ask: if someone from the outside was reading this, could they tell who was the hero? How can I make the buyer the hero of this story? How can I show them the journey we can take them on – not just the part that we’ll support them with, but where it could take them after this part is finished? 

This is my copy of The Hero and the Crown. Like every good story, it's a little well-worn, but I still love it. Look forward to reading it to my daughter when she's a little older. Let her be the hero.