How creativity became my antidepressant of choice
My nine-year-old daughter is a remarkable artist; she can look at a dog for a couple minutes, sit down and draw that dog with laser accuracy. I’ve never been like that. Put a crayon in my hand and it’s all I can do to scratch out a couple of stick people. So when I hear the word creative, I usually think of someone like Picasso or my daughter — not someone like me.
But the truth is, I’ve been thinking pretty imaginatively about bringing our vegetable powders to market. How do I know it’s creativity? I know because the process is messy, uncertain...and totally exhilarating. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever done before.
What inspiration feels like
In terms of innovation in the vegetable business, typically you see an extension of a current line. So, for example, if broccoli is your thing, and you innovate by selling florets, broccoli slaw, etc, those are extensions of the customer base you’re already in, not a new market entirely. I’ve done plenty of that.
Lately, the liquid edge and the excitement has come from trying to develop a product that is new to me for a market I’m not even familiar with. It requires truly learning that market: its history, the supply chains, the big and small players, the good and bad players, etc, etc. Yeah, it’s totally terrifying. Like a leap into the abyss. But it’s also energizing like nothing else.
You can’t innovate without doing your homework
I’m watching how the nutraceuticals markets have developed over the years, what they offer and how customers respond. From a growth standpoint, I’m asking myself:
How should we position for that market?
How much information should we share with people in that market before we get in, or how much should we hold back?
And then there’s land, labor, capital and resources:
How do we repurpose what we have for this new endeavor?
And how do we pay for whatever we can’t repurpose? Do we bootstrap it? Give equity to someone who knows more about the market? Have it financed by the bank?
When it comes to ingredients, the further into a larger food item it goes, the more work it becomes to have your certifications and validations squared away — much more so than for the fresh market. Sometimes those hurdles are really difficult to get the hang of. So:
What about clearing certifications and validations? Which hoops do we need to jump through to bring this product to market and include it in larger food products? Which are the bodies that issue those credentials?
Certainly the product needs to be tested for customer perception, then tweaked for improvements. And thus:
What does research and development look like?
How will we test our product, and with whom?
What will we do with our findings?
How will we continue to evaluate the product over time?
Finally, there the question of how to get the word out:
Where will the product show up?
What will its price be?
What’s the product’s marketing plan? What’s our strategy? How will it be promoted? Multi-channel? Single-channel? No marketing at all?
Who do we want to buy it?
Sure, these questions can be paralyzing; it’s hard to know where to begin. But I’ve found that once it’s in motion, the process of innovating is both gratifying and incredibly addictive.
Creativity in the time of coronavirus
So how does a person get that initial nudge to try something new? Where does the inspiration come from? Here’s the backstory for me. It’s probably not what you think.
Mid-March, when the mandate to shelter in place came down due to COVID-19, I will admit I hit a pretty low low. I know I’m not alone in this; these have been trying and unprecedented times for so many, and for so many reasons.
Because I was suddenly spending most of my time at home, I signed up for Master Class — you know, those multi-session online classes that teach everything from applying makeup and scientific communication to comedy. I gravitated to the Jeff Goodby and Rich Silverstein class on advertising and creativity. In the comfort of my home (and, ahem, my pajamas), I learned that innovation and creativity are messy. They begin in fits and starts. They require hundreds of bad ideas before the first good idea comes along.
Another class I took came from Sara Blakely, the founder of Spanx, who taught Self-Made Entrepreneurship. She shared how her business blossomed from one tiny idea, and how she chose to physically stand in department stores to speak with women about her product. It took grit and tenacity, and it worked; in 18 years, she’s still never spent a dime on advertising.
After watching these classes, I felt energized. If the anxiety and fear over coronavirus was an ocean, creativity was like the little rope ladder I could climb to get out. I had ideas for how to move forward, and ideas are a great antidepressant. They represent hope for something better. Best of all, the benefits of the creative journey outweigh the benefits of reaching the destination.
How are you innovating these days? Which resources can you use to get the creative juices flowing, to trigger a new idea? How can you tell you’re inspired?