In my name

The Program on Negotiation at Harvard recently (a while ago) started a (somewhat) daily blog.  It’s mostly edited versions of longer articles written by the professors that teach PON classes.  The posts have enough to spark your thinking and get yourself chewing on how you’d tackle that particular issue.

Professor Subramanian is one of my favorites.  He taught a good portion of the classes I’ve taken through PON and he’s good.  This post is from a longer article he wrote on the complexities presented when negotiating through agents.

Agency negotiation (which is what I do) can be difficult because there is a lot of translation that needs to happen, and like everything else in life, it doesn’t always happen well.

And you know what?  A LOT of negotiations in art involve agents in one way or another.

So, here’s what I want you to do:

1.  Go read the article.  (It will take you 10 minutes if you are very very very slow about it.)

2.  Think about a negotiation situation where you would use an agent or where you would be negotiating with someone else’s agent.

3.  What are things you could do before the negotiation to avoid the problems of miscommunication & agents acting too much in their own best interests?

4.  No, seriously; what are they?  Write them down in a free form brain storming.

5.  Do the same thing regarding stuff you could do while those problems are happening; what could you do?

6.  Look at the lists (or clouds, or spider webs, or poems; whatever) you’ve created.  What do you NOT know?  What do you wish you knew about dealing with those situations?  Where does your brain get stuck?

7.  Discuss below.

Have a great weekend, everyone!

Make mistakes!

An important reminder: no one does this negotiation stuff perfectly all the time.  No one.

The point of this blog is not that you do everything perfectly every time and completely free yourself from the realities of the world.   It is, instead, to give you something else to consider.

I operate off of the belief that knowing something is better than hacking away on your own.  And, that once you have an idea, you can look at it, squint, turn it on its head and figure out just how it’s going to work for you.

I spent a very long time in my early professional career fighting against my personal style of negotiation, that is, what came naturally when I was in a conflict.

I do not scream or yell and I tend to not be good at the hard and fast line in the sand without any context.  So I didn’t think I looked like what negotiators looked like in popular culture.

I am not, as the kids say, a hard ass.

But I’m firm in my convictions, unwilling to be bullied and unimpressed by puffery.

So I started studying negotiation as A Thing.  And I slowly came to the understanding that my style was just fine; I needed to be aware of certain things more than others, but they didn’t get things that came naturally to me, so: Even Steven.

This blog is my attempt to convince you that your style is just fine and that there are things you should be aware of.

I screw up in one way or another every day.  I write all of those screw ups down in a notebook and try not to make them again.  Sometimes I do, though.  Sometimes a lesson takes a couple of experiences to settle in.  That’s life.

So, make mistakes.  Make lots of them.

Please.

I’d much rather you try than you hold back from fear of screwing up.

Gettin’ Fancy with the Negotiation Skillz

Way back when we started hanging out, I talked a wee bit about the concept of “anchoring.”

Anchoring is what happens when one party in a negotiation names a price, a due date or a list of deliverables.  That number is the number all other suggestions, negotiations, conversation and demands will be measured against.

Once an anchor has dropped it is very hard to move, even when it’s wrong.

Anchoring is a simple concept, but it can be hard to wrap your head around.  Once you understand it, though, it can be one of the easiest ways of controlling a negotiation and protecting yourself from less than honorable counterparts.

“But Katie,” you’re thinking, “why would I ever want to anchor?  It sounds complicated and fancy.”

My friend, have you ever gone to a comic book convention?

Because there are anchors dropping all over the place at comic book conventions.  For instance:

Buy my book!

Erika Moen, whose book is awesome

Most books at conventions regardless of quality, style or manner of publication come with one common feature: a price.

A price is a seller’s anchor.  It sets the most anyone will pay for the book.

If the price is $10, no one is going to walk up and offer $20 to buy one, but they might try to offer less.

Let’s say I want to buy 15 of those $10 books for resale at my comic book shop.  I don’t want to pay you $150 for the books because I won’t be able to make any money off of the sale (that price anchors me, too).  Instead, I offer you $75 for 15 books, or 50% off cover price, an “industry standard.”

Now, because you know I am a local vendor who trucks these books back to her store in her personal car, that I made back my costs for the con in the first 3 hours and that you could move 15 books all on your own, you counter with a perfectly reasonable $100.  I accept because blindly following “industry standards” without any context is, ehem, silly.  [cough, cough, hint, hint]

In our negotiation you and I used the price (a.k.a the anchor) as a hard reference point that we did not question and it informed our offers to one another.

That’s what an anchor does.

And that’s why you want to be thoughtful and intentional when you have to anchor.  If you anchor too low in a situation like this, you make it harder to break even or to build a nest egg of profit to fund future projects.  It also makes it harder to quickly figure out a mutually beneficial deal with a really big customer (like that shop owner).

Draw me a picture!

Dylan Meconis (lutherlevy.com) & Kate Beaton (harkavagrant.com)

Now let’s talk about an area where a lot of folks let their fans do the anchoring: convention sketches.

Very basically speaking, it is good to anchor when you know a lot; it is not good to anchor when you don’t know a lot.

Why?

Well, when you are well informed, you tend to know more about the actual cost of things, so you tend to be able to better gauge what is and isn’t a “good” deal.  When you are underinformed, but eager to negotiate (that is, you want something), you can under or overestimate the value of things.  That inability to estimate often translates into paying too much or charging too little if you make the first (anchoring) offer.

At conventions, who has the most knowledge about the value of a sketch?

Well, that artist knows how much time it will take, how valuable that time might be to her in relation to other things she might be doing, how many other people have asked for sketches and if her arm is about to fall off.

The fan asking for the sketch likely knows how flipping nervous they are to ask for it in the first place, what they’re going to do with it, how much they personally value that artist’s work and how much cash they have left in their pocket.

If the artist anchors, she runs the risk of asking for too little money for the work (because who knows, maybe the fan has $75 set aside specifically for a commissioned sketch from that artist).

If the fan anchors the artist might be left in a position of having to entertain an offer of “two bottle caps, half a candy bar and my undying love and affection, ohmygod!”

Neither person is in a perfect position to anchor because both people know a lot about their perception of value, but not a whole bunch about the other person’s.

What to do?

Drop a hook: something that sets a bare bones floor but clearly communicates you’re interested in negotiating. A sort-of anchor, if you will.

For the artist that might be something like a sign that says, “Sketches: $10 and up, depending on awesomeness” or when asked for a sketch replying “Well, how much were you wanting to spend?”

For the fan, that might be approaching the artist and saying, “I wanted to get a sketch from you to give to my girlfriend for her birthday; she loves Thomas Jefferson.  What would be the difference between a $10 sketch and a $25 sketch?”

What not to do: not say anything about money because you’re too embarrassed.

Seriously.  No more signs that don’t have some sort of price on them and no more getting upset because the elaborate thing you described but didn’t ask the price of that took 30 minutes to draw costs $20.

So what are we going to do at the next convention?

Wear a super fun outfit of ridiculousness: CHECK.

Find lots of nifty comics: CHECK.

Have a lot of fun despite whatever environmental temperature related fussage is happening: CHECK.

Negotiate intentionally & respectfully: you-bet-your-sweet-CHECK.

Let’s Just Say

Let’s just say that you booked a job two months ago.  At the time it seemed far off in the distant future.  But now, in October, that November 15th deadline is looking less and less attainable.

Let’s say you were uncomfortable taking the job.  Let’s say it’s not work you particularly like, but it’s money and it was an easy way of getting the client to stop pestering you.

Let’s say the job is easy, something you could do, but it will take a good amount of your time and the pay, while in real cash money, isn’t overly fantastic.

And, let’s say, since we’re sayin’, that the client is a bit, er, demanding.  You are the artist that took this job after he hunted and hunted and he wants to make sure you understand everything he needs.  Everything.

Let’s also say you’ve been offered other, higher paying, more satisfying work.  And you cannot do both.  You must choose.

After long, thoughtful consideration, you determine the best thing to do is to cancel the previous job and say yes to the better paying job.

You have to say no to someone you already said yes to.

Well, crap.

You likely feel a bit guilty and concerned what the ramifications of your backing out will be. But, unless you want to do the thing you just determined you cannot do, you’re going to have to have this no-fun conversation.

Before you jump into how to have the conversation, be honest with yourself about a couple of things:

• You’re doing this for you.  It might very well be in everyone’s best interest that you’re backing out.  But you’re not being altruistic.  You’re doing this for yourself.

• There will be negative consequences from your actions.  You can mitigate these  in how you handle the conversation and yourself, but you will not be able to completely negate them.  Accept that now, or don’t do it.

• You are not the first person in the universe to have to back out on something.  You are not special and are therefore not deserving of the guilt and self-flagellation you are likely giving yourself.  You are not saying “no” to a combined cure for cancer, AIDS, poverty, war and hang nails; get over yourself.

By fabian_wolf via Flickr.com

OK.  First things first:

If you signed a contract, haul it out and look at it.  Read it (for not the first time!).  Determine what it says if you back out before the project is complete.  You should read the whole sha-bang, but the following sections will likely be helpful: “Termination,” “Damages,” “Limitation of Liability,” or, if you have one, “Failure to Perform.”

What happens?  Do you have to pay them money?  Do you have to find a replacement?  Will they charge you for finding a replacement on their own?  If you cannot answer these questions or if reading the contract produces more questions, talk to a lawyer.

Now.  Don’t think you have to come to them crawling on your knees over broken glass if it says so in the contract.  The contract is a baseline of what will happen if you two can’t figure anything else out.  It’s good to know and understand, but it is not the end all be all of the universe.

Next, know why you’re saying “no.”  Sounds simple, but you need to understand your “no” inside, outside and upside down.  This will help you with a couple things:

1. You won’t be as likely to back down from your “no” if you know why you have it.  You are more likely to be talked out of doing something if you feel guilty about having to do it, even when you know it is the right thing to do.  But when you have a firm understanding of exactly why you are doing what you’re doing, you are less likely to be swayed by emotion (yours or someone else’s).
2. You’ll be better able to explain yourself when the other side questions why you’re backing out.  It is better to prepare for those questions than it is to fumble and say “Uh, well, um, I just don’t wanna, I guess.”
3. It’s respectful to have answers when disappointing someone.  To suddenly stand up, take all your toys and go home without any explanation is unprofessional and it will come back to haunt you.  Stick to your “no” but behave politely and treat the other person with respect. It is easier to do that when you understand why you’re saying “no.”

By dpup via Flickr.com

Whenever possible have these kinds of conversations face to face.  When that is not possible, use the phone.  Resort to email only if it means that doing something else will result in someone you love being tortured and killed horribly.

Hard conversations are hard.  They are made worse when the other person is left to wonder about what you meant by “always” and why you used the word “flabbergasted” three times in two paragraphs.  Don’t be the Post-it Note Break Up Guy; man/woman up and do the thing right.

Do your best to come to the table with alternatives for the person.  You might not always be able to do this, but when you can, do.  Think about the other person’s interests and provide alternatives that address what they want.

Alternatives can be recommending another artist for the job; they shouldn’t be a way to strong arm you into doing the job under different circumstances.  Be creative about coming up with alternatives; use what you know about their interests and BATNA to guide you.

Coming to them with alternatives shows that you’re a professional and that you’re trying to leave them in as good a position as you found them; no worse.  It’s not always possible, but it’s worth a shot.

By glassblower via Flickr.com

The other nice thing about coming to them with alternatives is that it gives them the opportunity to say “no” to you.  Weird?  Not entirely.

Being able to reject the idea of someone who just disappointed you is psychologically satisfying.  It can also improve your recollection of the event later on: “Sure, he bailed but we weren’t really seeing eye-to-eye on the project anyway; it was for the best.”

Saying “no” is rarely fun, but it’s often necessary, and it can be done well: firmly, professionally & respectfully.

New Page

The information posts are now all in one place for your reading pleasure.  How very exciting!

Enjoy!

The Information Page

I Have Something to Tell You, Part III

Man, you’re hot.

I gotta say that one more time: You. Are. Hot.

Like “Joan Jett” hot.

"Joan Jett" hot.

Why?

Because you’ve made it this far along in our exciting journey of figuring out how, why and when to share information during a negotiation.

To summarize:  if you want the information you share to help you, you need to know who you’re negotiating with and what kind of negotiation you’re having.

Let’s say you know that the person you’re negotiating with is a good listener and follows up on information you give them and that the particular negotiation you’re engaged in is of the high stakes variety.

What does that tell you?

You know that if you share information with this person, they will do things with it.  They will listen to it, consider it, use it.  They might not do those things to your advantage, but they will do those things.

You also know that because the stakes are higher, you’re going to have to share more information.  What information, how much and when is yet to be determined, but if you want a deal that is better than splitting things down the middle, you’re going to have to tell your story — what you’re interested in and how those interests impact this negotiation.

So what next?

You’re going to be shocked by what I say next; shocked!

Use your BATNA.

You just fell down didn’t you?

But seriously: your BATNA is a treasure trove of information about your negotiation.

You’ve put a great deal of thought into coming up with your BATNA and understanding why it is your very best alternative to this agreement working out.  You can re-do all that work to figure out what to do in the thick of negotiation, but why would you?  Use what you have.

And before we dive into the fun, a word of reminder: use your common sense.  Don’t be offensive; don’t tell them things you wouldn’t want anyone else to know; don’t post things about the negotiation online; don’t talk their ear off; listen; don’t tell them everything.

Ready, then?  Let’s go:

Understand why your BATNA is your BATNA

You chose the alternative for a reason: what is it?

Likely it has something to do with the fact that, even if it’s your second choice, it helps you to do things you want to do and helps you avoid things you don’t want to do.  Those things are (or should be) a manifestation of your interests in the deal.

Remembering why you chose your BATNA can help you identify when and what type of information you’d want to share information with your first-choice potential client.

Example: Let’s say that you’re bidding on a job to storyboard a video for Beyonce’s “Single Ladies.”

Your BATNA is to accept another job you’ve been offered to do the graphic novel version of the OED because it will allow you to spend 6 months in England doing pigeon hole research, but you’re a bit concerned because you think the OED job will take, all told, at least 150 years.

When the director of the video says this job might take a while, your BATNA tells you you have enough time and can confidently commit to a long job. (If the video job is less than a 150 years, and you can do your BATNA, ipso facto you can do the video job).

When the director talks about wanting someone who can really make basic concepts come alive (i.e. “if you like it, then you should have put a ring on it”); you can tell him that you were recently offered a job translating the OED into fun images based on your portfolio.  (But don’t tell him it’s the job you’ll take if you don’t get this one.  More on that later.)

If he’s being wishy washy about awarding the job, you can tell him you have another offer on the table and you need to know when he’ll be notifying you of his decision.

Notice you don’t have to tell him about the BATNA to share information that comes from the BATNA.

Share things that make their BATNA less attractive

If you’ve done your homework, you should have a pretty good idea of what their back up options are.  You might not know their exact BATNA, but you should be able to identify themes in their back up options.

In looking at those themes, what can you do to make the alternatives appear less attractive?  If their alternative involves pushing the date of publication out three months, they might reconsider if they knew a rival publishing house is releasing a book at that time.  If their BATNA is dependent upon a particular convention, don’t you think they’d be interested to know that one of the headlining artists isn’t going to show?

To be clear: I’m not suggesting you make things up.

But I am suggesting you consider the information you have about  their alternatives, and think about sharing it if it would make their BATNA less appetizing.

Share things that make your BATNA appear to be more attractive

The possibility of loss can create desire.  You know this if you’ve ever dated someone for a bit longer than you knew you should have.  For whatever reason, sticking around was more attractive than moving on.

A negotiation is a relationship: make it more attractive for them to stick around than move on.

Share information that makes your BATNA look more attractive than they might perceive it to be.  If they know you have a good back up plan, they’ll want to persuade you to stick with them.

What kind of information are we talking about?

• Things you could do if you pursued your BATNA;

• Things your BATNA can help you avoid;

• Opportunities your BATNA offers that the agreement might not; and

• Any opportunities your counter party might lose if you went with your BATNA.

Does this mean you share your BATNA with the other party?  Or that you walk up to them and say “If this doesn’t work out I’ve got a sweet, sweet deal with the guy down the street; his phone number is 503.555.1234.  Call him.  He’ll tell you.”

No.

Why not?

Well, you don’t want to give your counterpart the opportunity to eviscerate your BATNA.  Which, if they know it, they can do.  (It’s what I’d expect you to do to them if you knew their BATNA.)

They might have an idea of what your BATNA is, but chances are they don’t actually know.  Share enough that they know you have solid alternatives but not so much that they can negatively impact your ability to use them.

Congratulations! You’ve made it through some very difficult negotiation lessons.

It is official: You are a rock star.

Even Joan Jett says so.

I Have Something to Tell You, Part II

The kind of negotiation I advocate is a style where information needs to be shared because you’re not talking with the other person about the thing you want, you’re talking about why you want what you want.

I believe that negotiations are essentially problem solving events, and, as such, it’s more important to know all the factors contributing to the problem than it is to know exactly what you want the fix to be.

But let’s be real: if you approached every negotiation in this holistic, self aware, open manner you’d never do anything but negotiate.

You would never be able to go to another yard sale because it would mean sitting on a stranger’s front lawn explaining how your mother had a pie tin like that when you were growing up and when you were 11 you made your first pie (blackberry) in that pie tin and nearly set the house on fire but your best friend (Jane) had the presence of mind to blame it on your younger brother (Sam), for which he’s never completely forgiven you, and his 40th birthday is coming up and it’d be a great present.

There is such a thing as over sharing.

Sharing your interests doesn’t mean sharing all of your interests all at once.

But how do you know how much is enough?  How do you know what to share, when and how much?

Well, you read this blog.  Duh.

And you know about what type of negotiation you’re having.

To oversimplify things, the bigger the stakes in the negotiation, the more information you’ll want to share.

I said OVERsimplify.  Don’t stop reading.  Keep with us.

Very basically: You want to share information when it will help get you things you want; you do not want to share information when it will not help you get things you want.

So, at the yard sale?  Sharing that entire story of your childhood pie-making, brother-torturing, best-friend-having adventures won’t increase your likelihood of getting that pie tin.  You might get a bit of a discount on the pie tin because of the story, but compared to the amount you have to share to get that discount, it’s not probably worth your time.

For instance, if every word in that story were worth a nickle, the story is worth $3.65 (73 words x $0.05). Let’s say the pie tin is $5 and the stranger agrees to give you $2 off because of the mother-best-friend-brother-pie thing.

That means that the pie tin actually cost you $6.65, not $3 ($5-$2+$3.65=$6.65).

Sharing a lot of information in this straight forward thing-for-money negotiation where there is no long term relationship at stake cost me more money than it saved.

****If that story = worth thing threw you, I’m talking not about actual money but the value sharing that information brings the negotiation; actions and words have value.  Usually when we assign actions and words some sort of monetary worth, it’s easier for us to figure out how their value contributes or detracts from the deal. But, no, no one is actually going to give you $3.65 for telling a story at a yard sale.****

Now let’s say that you’re negotiating a book contract with a publisher you’d like to work with.  You’ve never worked with this particular publisher before but you’ve heard good things about them and you’d like to establish a long term relationship with this house.  In addition to this manuscript, you have a nearly complete outline of another book and a graphic novel project you’re working on with a friend.

What you don’t know: the publishing house you’re talking to really wants to get into graphic novels.  They’ve done a few smaller graphic novel projects but they haven’t found the right work to push.  They would like to do something with robot pirate monkeys (your project is about robot pirate monkeys).  Also, the editor you’d be working with is a big fan of yours and has been stalking you on Live Journal since 2003.

The publishing house usually offers someone in your position $5,000 as an advance.  Because the editor is such a fan, they’ve tacked on an extra $500 of “goodwill money.”  An outline of a graphic novel like the one you’re working on is worth another $5,000 to them.  That other book outline?  Since they haven’t worked with you yet, it’s only worth about $500 to them right now.  If this project went well, it could be worth $8,000.  A long term relationship with this company is, you figure, worth about $10,000 to you.

Sharing nothing will net you $5,500.  You may or may not have a longer relationship with this company but it’s unknown. (Advance #1 + goodwill money)

Sharing the graphic novel and your outline right now is $11,000. (Advance #1 + goodwill money +Advance #2 + Smaller Advance #3)

Sharing the graphic novel now and the outline once you’ve proven yourself? $28,500. (Advance #1 + goodwill money + Advance #2 + Larger Advance #3 + Long term relationship value)

Sharing nothing and being a real ass to your editor? That will cost you $5,000 ($5,000 + no goodwill money – $10,000 relationship value).

This is not a thing-for-money deal; all sorts of factors come into play and contribute potential value in this higher stakes deal.  Sharing your interests helps to identify that value and gives you the opportunity to claim it.  Not sharing your interests, or not seeking to understand their interests, severely limits the amount of value you can get out of the deal.

Understanding what kind of negotiation you’re engaged in can help you figure out how much information to share; it isn’t the end all be all for how to make those decisions, but it is a necessary factor in the rubric.  If you aren’t thinking about what kind of negotiation you’re having when forming your strategy, you aren’t really strategizing.

Up next: in higher stakes negoitations, using your BATNA to help figure out what information to share & when.

I got mine

…did you get yours?

We hit the release party for the first of the five Underground comics this week.  Bridge City Comics hosted the event and half of the Portland cartoonist contingent turned out.  There were rumors Snoop Dogg was gonna show, but alas, Portland was still Portland.  I was hobbling around on a cane, but had a fine time nonetheless.  And, oh, the comic is pretty bad ass, too.

Why the cane?  My foot is “kind of” broken.  Now that we’ve figured that out, I can get back to writing.  Expect the remainder of the information series on Monday and Thursday of next week.

In the mean time, go read the first few pages of Underground and then go out and grab your very own copy.

And if you’re at SPX this weekend, go say hello to the Lady.  I happen to know her table is decked out with all sorts of awesome (plus!  Grammar Nerd stickers!).