George Saunders

In NY Times:

“I admired him so much,” he said about [DF] Wallace. “His on-the-spot capabilities were just incredible. And I thought, Yeah, we’re a lot alike. We’re similar, nervous guys. And then when he died, I thought [of myself], Wait a minute, you’re not like that. You don’t have chronic, killing depression. I’m sad sometimes, but I’m not depressed. And I also have a mawkish, natural enthusiasm for things. I like being alive in a way that’s a little bit cheerleaderish, and I always felt that around Dave. When he died, I saw how unnegotiable it was, that kind of depression. And it led to my being a little more honest about one’s natural disposition. If you have a negative tendency and you deny it, then you’ve doubled it. If you have a negative tendency and you look at it” — which is, in part, what the process of writing allows — “then the possibility exists that you can convert it.”

Possible negative tendencies a person could have:

• reading about famous greats while aggressively hunting for holes and hypocrisies in wicked hope famous great isn’t really much kinder and more thoughtful and generally better, and thus you yourself can’t be expected to improve or be better
• cynical assumption that you should be very very skeptical about anyone described as a “saint” in a newspaper.
• suspicion that people promoting “saints” have inevitable tangled agenda of self-promotion or goal of manipulating saints into espousing ideas from which they themselves [the saint-promoters] intend to make some gain.

Brief personal experience:

Met Saunders once (courtesy of Chennai Office). Walked and talked with him for about ten minutes.

During that walk he completely (by accident, just in casual conversation) altered my perception of college.

That afternoon Saunders gave a reading almost nobody came to. A person literally rollerbladed in, midway through.

Then watched him meet a bunch of young strangers.  Many of whom weren’t exactly sure who he was or why he was there, and >50% of them were pretty drunk.

Saunders offered each of these people (and several were legendary messes) some genuine complimentary observation, or more likely, a complimentary question.

Afterwards, had the sense I’d just been given a free demonstration in how to be: considerate.  In the deepest, “put yourself in the other guy’s shoes” way. NY Times:

The last time we met, Saunders waited in the cold with me until the bus for New York came along. We were talking about the idea of abiding, of the way that you can help people flourish just by withholding judgment, if you open yourself up to their possibilities…

(photo from the wikipedia page for Nyingma Buddhism)

Selling the Aga Cooker

Here’s Swedish inventor Gustaf Dalen:

Gustaf Dalen lost his sight in an explosion while developing his earlier invention, a porous substrate for storing gases, Agamassan. Forced to stay at home, Dalen discovered that his wife was exhausted by cooking. Although blind, he set out to develop a new stove that was capable of a range of culinary techniques and easy to use.

His invention was the AGA cooker:

In the 1920s these were sold, door to door, in the UK.  And the greatest AGA cooker salesman of all was David Ogilvy:

His success at this marked him out to his employer, who asked him to write an instruction manual, The Theory and Practice of Selling the AGA cooker, for the other salesmen. Thirty years later, Fortune magazine editors called it the finest sales instruction manual ever written.

I went looking for this manual, and found it at Patrick Lannigan’s blog.  I make sure to link because Patrick Lannigan reports that “I’d have to say my number one obsession is playing with Google rankings.”  I wish him well.

Anyway, Ogilvy has some good writing and interesting advice:

Salesmen are only too often unpopular people in Aga-worthy houses.. Show straight away that you are not of the so-called canvasser variety. Never bully, get into an argument, show resentment, or lose your temper. Do not talk about “your husband” – “Mr. Smith” is less impertinent.

Never talk down or show superior knowledge. Never appeal to a prospect’s pity because the more prosperous you appear the more she is likely to be impressed with you and to believe in you and your Aga.

The worst fault a salesman can commit is to be a bore. Foster any attempt to talk about other things; the longer you stay the better you get to know the prospect, and the more you will be trusted. Pretend to be vastly interested in any subject the prospect shows an interest in. The more she talks the better, and if you can make her laugh you are several points up. If she argues a lot, do not give the impression of knowing all the answers by heart and always being one up on her. She will think you are too smart by half, and mistrust your integrity. Find out as soon as possible in the conversation how much she already knows about Aga; it will give you the correct angle of approach. Perhaps the most important thing of all is to avoid standardisation in your sales talk. If you find yourself on fine day saying the same things to a bishop and a trapezist, you are done for.

When the prospect tries to bring the interview to a close, go gracefully. It can only hurt to be kicked out. Learn to recognise a really valid reason for the prospect being unable to order (there are mighty few such reasons). With these reservations you cannot be too tenacious or too persevering. The good salesman combines the tenacity of a bull dog with the manners of a spaniel. If you have any charm, ooze it.

The more prospects you talk to, the more sales you expose yourself to, the more orders you will get. But never mistake the quantity of calls for quality of salesmanship.

Later, in the “Attack” section:

Learn to recognise vegetarians on sight. It is painful indeed to gush over roasting and grilling to a drooping face which has not enjoyed the pleasures of a beefsteak for years.

From the section “Wise-cracking”:

The longer you talk to a prospect, the better, and you will not do this if you’re a bore. Pepper your talk with anecdote and jokes. Accumulate a repertoire of illustration. Above all, laugh till you cry every time the prospect makes the joke about the Aga Khan. A deadly serious demonstration is bound to fail. If you can’t make a lady laugh, you certainly cannot maker buy.

David Ogilvy might be better than Mystery.