It's amazing how many steps are involved in the creation of a new product. I never thought about this prior to joining the team here at Peas HQ. Displays magically made their way to stores to be admired by unsuspecting shoppers like me. They're just there. I didn't have to think about it. And really, you ask, why should anyone? I suppose the simplest answer is that all of the effort that goes into putting a display in a store is rather astounding.
Take our newest line, Just gotta tell you..., for instance (and take it you ought, for it's physically impossible not to like it). This line began as a little seed inside the brain of our fearless leader. She wanted something with the heart of our Eat Your Peas books but more compact and maybe a little funnier. What if, she wondered, we had a series of phrases preceded by the expression "I've just gotta tell you!" How many times have we all said some variation of that phrase followed by some kernel of awesomeness we just had to get out? So there you have it: Step 1. An idea is born.
What never ceases to amaze me is how that idea actually comes to fruition.
Let me tell you, it involves a lot of brainstorming meetings! Fortunately, when it comes to storms of the brain, we're regular chasers around here. Everyone on the team originated their own lists of ideas independent of the group to avoid any cross-contamination. Then we all met to read them aloud to much acclaim (and snickering, in some cases). The best of the bunch were culled into categorical lists of potential cards, such as birthday, any occasion, sympathy, etc. End Step 2, begin Step 3! What good are lists of titles without any content?
While we scribble away at text to flesh out our new ideas, our wonderful artist, Sandy, simultaneously begins Step 4, which is the daunting task of turning the abstract images in Cheryl's head into fun, real life designs. Don't ask me how she does it. It's a state secret.
Countless rounds of matching words with pictures and revising and editing and did I mention revising follow (let's call that Steps 5-10). But wait, there's more! What kind of paper do we want? (Step 11) Which colors from the deck? (Step 12) And, oh no, is there a proper display with pockets this size? (Step 13) If not, would it be exorbitant to make one? (Step 13.5) Decisions, decisions!
But fear not, because--miracle of miracles--all of this craziness does come together in the end. There it is: a proof. Beautiful! Unless...the color isn't quite right, and don't you think we should move that text around? (Steps 14-20: further revision!)
And that's just brainstorming in the office! There are still the logistics of shipping the displays, introducing the line to reps and retailers alike, making sure everything comes in on time, redesigning the layout of the catalog to accommodate new product, creating promotional mailings...shweew! I'm exhausted just thinking about it, and I know I've missed a few steps here and there.
I honestly don't think I'll ever shop the same way again. This knowledge has infiltrated the very core of my previously ignorant brain. For instance, I bought a pair of pants this last weekend, and as I looked at the hanger the sales person let me take, I decided that department store routing guides probably require manufacturers to preprice and hang such pants in a manner that best suits their existing fixtures, which makes it possible for me to keep the hanger, because it won't work with future shipments and storage space is at a premium...ahhh! So much work to get that pair of pants in my hands! And this is all local; don't even get me started on international shipments!
Okay, it's official: I'm rambling now. The main point (yes, I have one!) is that so much of the world functions without us ever having to think about it and, at the end of the day, that might be the best mark of a job well done. If a consumer can wander into a store, spot something she can't live without, and cart it away without ever once having to think about all the sweat and tears (and blood, as anyone who has manhandled a tape gun knows) that went into putting it there, then we've all done our jobs. Like a virtuoso guitar player or ballroom dancer, the hundreds of hours of effort never show. We make it look easy.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Think globally...you know the rest.
It's a blustery day here in lovely Anoka, MN. Thankfully, we are safely ensconced in our office, too firmly rooted to blow away, but we fear for our packages and the good people who carry them!
So, what's going on at Whirled Peas HQ? Gently Spoken recently joined the cause of the 3/50 Project, which has gotten me thinking about my spending habits. Isn't it worth it to support independent retailers, even if it mean spending a bit more?
Yesterday, I visited a certain big box store to pick up some random essentials and came armed with my own tote bag to carry them away in. Not only was the clerk baffled by my tote, he couldn't be bothered to put anything in it. Apparently, if you bring your bag, you pack your own purchases.
I can't help but compare this to my experience a few weeks ago at the local co-op. The staff was friendly and helpful and didn't seem inconvenienced by my desire to purchase their goods. I left thinking, "Wow, they're so nice. Why don't I go in there more?"
Well, why don't I? It's not out of the way, the prices are reasonable considering everything is organic, and the service is great. That's not to say that all independent retailers are an oasis of superb service, but they usually have to put more effort into making and keeping their customers, and that dedication shows.
The 3/50 Project encourages consumers to spend $50 each month in three independently owned businesses. I easily spent $50 in the big box yesterday and didn't come out very satisfied. Now, to be fair, I've had plenty of perfectly satisfactory experiences in large chains, but considering what a boon it can be to the local economy to spend more money at the independents, I have to be a little more deliberate about where I shop.
So, what's going on at Whirled Peas HQ? Gently Spoken recently joined the cause of the 3/50 Project, which has gotten me thinking about my spending habits. Isn't it worth it to support independent retailers, even if it mean spending a bit more?
Yesterday, I visited a certain big box store to pick up some random essentials and came armed with my own tote bag to carry them away in. Not only was the clerk baffled by my tote, he couldn't be bothered to put anything in it. Apparently, if you bring your bag, you pack your own purchases.
I can't help but compare this to my experience a few weeks ago at the local co-op. The staff was friendly and helpful and didn't seem inconvenienced by my desire to purchase their goods. I left thinking, "Wow, they're so nice. Why don't I go in there more?"
Well, why don't I? It's not out of the way, the prices are reasonable considering everything is organic, and the service is great. That's not to say that all independent retailers are an oasis of superb service, but they usually have to put more effort into making and keeping their customers, and that dedication shows.
The 3/50 Project encourages consumers to spend $50 each month in three independently owned businesses. I easily spent $50 in the big box yesterday and didn't come out very satisfied. Now, to be fair, I've had plenty of perfectly satisfactory experiences in large chains, but considering what a boon it can be to the local economy to spend more money at the independents, I have to be a little more deliberate about where I shop.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
We've been working on a brand new line of cards this month, and the more we write them, the more I wonder why I don't say these things to the people in my life. Am I embarrassed? Afraid they'll laugh? Maybe. They might...but so what? Isn't that better than never saying what I really feel for fear of reprisal?
So I'm starting right now. Look out, world!
So I'm starting right now. Look out, world!
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Greetings from Whirled Peas Headquarters!
It is my pleasure to inaugurate our Gently Spoken blog! We're on a mission to enter the information age (a little late, I know!). What better or more efficient way to connect with readers from all around the world than the Internet?
Life is blessedly busy here at Peas HQ. All morning long, Cheryl has been on the phone talking to customers about matters both business (how best to merchandise our books) and personal (how to overcome a heart break). We've decided she's our own personal in-house life coach. Which is something funny about Eat Your Peas: It isn't just a book series, though it's certainly a wonderful line of books. Eat Your Peas is a whole community full of people who care about making the world a better place, one healed heart at a time.
Every so often, someone will try to tell us that our message is outdated; apparently encouragement is just too "mushy," too sentimental for modern, ironic and disconnected consumers. Every so often, we start to worry they're right. But then someone will call or email to share their story, and we're reminded that sincerity never goes out of style.
A great example: a woman left a message on our machine over a week ago, and we still can't bear to erase it. She told us about sending our Eat Your Peas for Sons books to her child who is stationed in Iraq. Her son was "just ecstatic" about the book, and she wanted to "salute the carriers of the book and the author herself." What better incentive than that do we need to keep going?
There is a board in our office covered with letters and notes we've received from happy readers who remind us why we do this everyday. We're incredibly lucky to be an office that receives more kind words than angry ones (knock on wood!). If you're one of those happy readers, please share your story with us!
It is my pleasure to inaugurate our Gently Spoken blog! We're on a mission to enter the information age (a little late, I know!). What better or more efficient way to connect with readers from all around the world than the Internet?
Life is blessedly busy here at Peas HQ. All morning long, Cheryl has been on the phone talking to customers about matters both business (how best to merchandise our books) and personal (how to overcome a heart break). We've decided she's our own personal in-house life coach. Which is something funny about Eat Your Peas: It isn't just a book series, though it's certainly a wonderful line of books. Eat Your Peas is a whole community full of people who care about making the world a better place, one healed heart at a time.
Every so often, someone will try to tell us that our message is outdated; apparently encouragement is just too "mushy," too sentimental for modern, ironic and disconnected consumers. Every so often, we start to worry they're right. But then someone will call or email to share their story, and we're reminded that sincerity never goes out of style.
A great example: a woman left a message on our machine over a week ago, and we still can't bear to erase it. She told us about sending our Eat Your Peas for Sons books to her child who is stationed in Iraq. Her son was "just ecstatic" about the book, and she wanted to "salute the carriers of the book and the author herself." What better incentive than that do we need to keep going?
There is a board in our office covered with letters and notes we've received from happy readers who remind us why we do this everyday. We're incredibly lucky to be an office that receives more kind words than angry ones (knock on wood!). If you're one of those happy readers, please share your story with us!
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