I’ve been neglecting my poor store and all the wonderful people who signed up for the newsletter.
Lately, I’ve noticed that most sales are of the more plain designs–I’m talking words on shirt here. <g>
I haven’t bought ads in so long, most of my traffic comes from accidents, here or Heather (blowing a kiss!) Occasionally, someone will recommend it on a message board and since I have site meters, I can follow traffic back and read the comments.
Sometimes, it’s not fun. The last one had someone share one of my “in-joke” shirts–not my best design but it was for someone specific and I left it up in case anyone else got it.
Someone did, so she posted it on a message board along with a link and a wish to get a bunch of Snark shirts. The response? “Those are dumb.”
I kind of laughed it off because I’m old enough to realize that there isn’t a way to please everyone. But a part of me balked because not all the designs are dumb. Some don’t appeal to my tastes, but I tried to do different styles and colors because let’s face it, writers are one hell of a diversified bunch. So, the designs are as well.
But, it’s the same as putting your work out there for people to read. Some will get it, some won’t. Some will hate it.
It’s all about building those skin layers, right? Think I did a post on Armadillo Skin. Yeah, here.
I did make up a few new designs this morning and plan to work on an extra snarky edition of the Write Snark Newsletter tonight.
For the subtle complainer. heh heh. Called Evil Day Job.
This looks good in black, too. Called Don’t Be Fooled.
This is for those days when you just don’t want to think about what to wear. Grab a T-shirt and disappear into your own worlds. Called Goes With the Purple Hair.
And this is an oldie, but it’s still one of my favorite designs. I bought it in this style and was really pleased with the color and shape of the shirt. At the conference, I had some unexpected and kind of devastating news on that Friday night. It kept me from going out, so I stayed in my hotel room and slipped into this shirt and some comfy yoga pants. The roomie and I ordered pizza and I had to go down and get it, so I just waded through a sea of fancy ladies in my comfort wear.
However, the writers in the elevator loved the shirt and I was so out of it, I didn’t tell them where they could get one. Duh. I’m my own worst advertiser. <g>
Called I Sleep With the Good Ones. heh heh