Special Marketing Tools

By Axel Henriksen “The Wizard Of Wealth”

Today it is getting extremely hard to grab and hold your prospects attention for any length of time due to information overload, masses of offers via every form of media you can name here’s and example of what I mean:

We’ve been talking about the number one most important asset of any business, which are its customers. In order to properly embrace this I must first tell you about a thing called “Marketing Noise”, which is a catch-all term representative of the tremendous amount of marketing going on all around us.

It’s everything from billboards, car and truck signs, bus bench signs, displays and signage in stores, flyers stuffed in bags, flyers under windshield wipers, direct mail, brochures packed in with purchases, brochures in with credit card and utility bill statements, radio commercials, TV commercials reduced from sixty to thirty seconds, telemarketing, personal selling, cable TV shows that are really commercials, ads in magazines and newspapers.

It’s even the mountain of emails that you are undoubtedly receiving everyday in your inbox if you are reading my Success Marketing Strategies.

It’s a fact that the average adult consumer is presented with more opportunities to spend money today in one 4-hour period than he was in thirty 24-hour periods just a decade ago. There is a mammoth amount of marketing noise bombarding the consumer every day that is vying for his discretionary income and his credit.

In business-to-business marketing the same basic situation exists. Although there is less cold call selling going on today than at any time I can recall there is much more business-to-business marketing taking place.

The card deck is just one example of media has been invented in the last decade to go after business-to-business. The number of business magazines, newspapers and trade journals carrying advertising to the executive and business owner has more than tripled in the past five years.

Trade show attendants are at an all time high. DVDs, computer CDs and other electronic media are being used as brochures as well as in place of sales calls today. There is a mammoth amount of marketing noise bombarding the executive, manager and business owner.

Then within all that marketing noise there is all the direct competition in your particular field. Competitors who grow more sophisticated and aggressive by the minute, not only competing for new customers but also attempting to take away your present customers. What are you doing about it?

In your next Success Marketing Strategy, I will reveal what I believe to be your best strategy to eliminate this business erosion that is taking place.

So Now We Have all Turned To Social Network For The Answer-YES

well thats fine and it is indeed very exciting and we are connecting like crazy all over the place on sites such as:

LinkedIn

ecademy

Ryze

Ojeeze

Spock

Facebook

Myspace

Ezifinda

Hi5

Bebo

BNI

Hoverspot

ikarma

konnects

oldfriends

Netlog

Whoswho

just to name a few of them……..my questions are:

“Are we ..that’s me and You getting the best use out of these tools?”

“How many of these sites can we really Use?”

‘Which are best for what-do you Know?”

“The Purpose for Using These Sites?”

and My Favourite Question:

“How Can We Monatize the Use of These Sites?” Well that is why most of us are using them..RIGHT!

Okay Now I will give you a few Examples of What is and Has Been Working Very Well For ..US ..Now That Means My Clients and us.

1. Build a relationship FIRST before you go all gang busters and start blowing your “Special Just for you Buddy Offers all all over Me” Does that ring any Bells?

2. Finout if what you are About to offer me will be of any interest at all to ME. Hey just ask me a few questions before you go blurting out your stuff at me.

3. Did YOU even Bother to check out what I do? OOPs Sorry about that didn’t know you was in the same business as me I know for sure that most people that pitch me via any media have done little if any research into me and what I want or do and yet the pitch me anyway

Types of Business Cards

Tactile cards: Some cards are distinguished not so much by how they look as by how they feel. They may use nonstandard materials, such as metal or wood, or have unusual shapes, edges, folds or embossing. The cards below have GOLD embossing on them which puts them into a very highclass high cost attention getting arena. Tactile cards tend to be considerably more expensive than regular cards because they use nonstandard production processes such as die cuts And we consider them Worth the additional costs.

Multipurpose cards: A card can do more than promote your name and business–it can also serve as a discount coupon, an appointment reminder or some other function. Many of our client think that having a calender on the back will make people want to keep them and put them in their wallets or purses {We on the other hand prefer to put another marketing message on the back such as a special offer that is only available by using this card} It may also provide valuable information that the average person may need. For example, a hotel may include a map on the back of its card for any guests who are walking around the vicinity. A card of any type can be made multipurpose by adding these types of features.

Outside-the-box cards: A wildly original, fanciful or extravagant presentation can draw extra attention. Creativity knows no bounds–except the amount of money you wish to spend. I’ve seen examples of these types of cards that were made of chocolate, Candy bars, Mints, bottle openers, key rings or that folded out into a miniature box to keep small items in. One of the most notable was a dentist’s card that included a small compartment for dental floss to be pulled out. We tend not to use or promote these because unless you are an art lover or collector of unusual business cards or have a need for that item..if they don’t fit into the card holder easily ..out they go!!! Mind you the card makers and the advertising GURUs often love these because they are indeed creative..but as we say if it don’t sell it ain’t worth XX And that’s because I am no gambler so I like what I call my “Double Headed BizCard” which ever way the prospect turns it they gets a message..could even be the same message on both sides now there’s that might work

Now as much as I would like to keep on writing here and giving you the rest of those very effect marketing tools ..I’ve just run out of time today and will have to save that for another day ..

You could always checkout www.onlineofflineinformationmarketing.com and pick yourself up the full package there so as you can get to it right now make those Profits NOW!

The Pickle Jar
by: Author Unknown

The pickle jar, as far back as I can remember, sat beside
the dresser in my parents’ bedroom. When he got ready for
bed, Dad would empty his pockets and toss his coins into the
jar. As they were dropped into the jar, they landed with a
merry jingle when the jar was almost empty.

Then, the tones gradually muted to a dull thud as the jar
filled. I used to squat on the floor in front of the jar and
admire the copper and silver circles that glinted like a
pirate’s treasure when the sun poured through the bedroom
window. When the jar was filled, Dad would sit at the
kitchen table and roll the coins before taking them to the
bank.

Taking the coins to the bank was always a big production.
Stacked neatly in a small cardboard box, the coins were
placed between Dad and me on the seat of his old truck. Each
and every time, as we drove to the bank, Dad would look at
me hopefully. “Those coins are going to keep you out of the
textile mill, son. You’re going to do better than me. This
old mill town’s not going to hold you back.” Also, each and
every time, as he slid the box of rolled coins across the
counter at the bank toward the cashier, he would grin
proudly and say, “These are for my son’s college fund. He’ll
never work at the mill all his life like me.”

We would always celebrate each deposit by stopping for an
ice cream cone. I always got chocolate; Dad always got
vanilla. When the clerk at the ice cream parlor handed Dad
his change, he would show me the few coins nestled in his
palm. “When we get home, we’ll start filling the jar again.”
He always let me drop the first coins into the empty jar. As
they rattled around with a brief, happy jingle, we grinned
at each other. “You’ll get to college on pennies, nickels,
dimes and quarters,” he said. “But you’ll get there. I’ll
see to that.”

The years passed, and I finished college and took a job in
another town. Once, while visiting my parents, I used the
phone in their bedroom, and noticed that the pickle jar was
gone. It had served its purpose and had been removed. A lump
rose in my throat as I stared at the spot beside the dresser
where the jar had always stood. My Dad was a man of few
words, and never lectured me on the values of determination,
perseverance, and faith. The pickle jar had taught me all
these virtues far more eloquently than the most flowery of
words could have done.

When I married, I told my wife Susan about the significant
part the lowly pickle jar had played in my life as a boy. In
my mind, it defined, more than anything else, how much my
Dad had loved me. No matter how rough things got a home, Dad
continued to doggedly drop his coins into the jar. Even the
summer when Dad got laid off from the mill, and Mama had to
serve dried beans several times a week, not a single dime
was taken from the jar. To the contrary, as Dad looked
across the table at me pouring catsup over my beans to make
them more palatable, he became more determined than ever to
make a way out for me. “When you finish college, Son,” he
told me, his eyes glistening, “you’ll never have to eat
beans again, unless you want to.”

The first Christmas after our daughter Jessica was born, we
spent the holiday with my parents. After dinner, Mom and Dad
sat next to each other on the sofa, taking turns cuddling
their first grandchild. Jessica began to whimper softly, and
Susan took her from Dad’s arms. “She probably needs to be
changed,” she said, carrying the baby into my parents’
bedroom to diaper her. When Susan came back into the living
room, there was a strange mist in her eyes. She handed
Jessica back to Dad before taking my hand and leading me
into the room. “Look,” she said softly, her eyes directing
me to a spot on the floor beside the dresser. To my
amazement, there, as if it had never been removed, stood the
old pickle jar, the bottom already covered with coins. I
walked over to the pickle jar, dug down into my pocket, and
pulled out a fistful of coins. With a gamut of emotions
choking me, I dropped the coins into the jar. Then I looked
up and saw that Dad, carrying Jessica, had slipped quietly
into the room. Our eyes locked, and I knew he was feeling
the same emotions I felt. Neither one of us could speak, but
we knew nothing had to be said.

Becoming As Little Children
by: Author Unknown

We were the only family with children in the restaurant. I sat Erik in a high chair and noticed everyone was quietly eating and talking. Suddenly, Erik squealed with glee and said, “Hi there.” He pounded his fat baby hands on the high chair tray. His eyes were crinkled in laughter and his mouth was bared in a toothless grin, as he wriggled and giggled with merriment. I looked around and saw the source of his merriment. It was a man whose pants were baggy with a zipper at half-mast and his toes poked out of would-be shoes. His shirt was dirty and his hair was uncombed and unwashed. His whiskers were too short to be called a beard and his nose was so varicose it looked like a road map. We were too far from him to smell, but I was sure he smelled.

His hands waved and flapped on loose wrists. Hi there, baby; Hi there, big boy. I see ya, buster,” the man said to Erik.
My husband and I exchanged looks, “What do we do?” Erik continued to laugh and answer, “Hi, hi there.” Everyone in the restaurant noticed and looked at us and then at the man.
The old geezer was creating a nuisance with my beautiful baby.

Our meal came and the man began shouting from across the room, “Do ya patty cake? Do you know peek-a-boo? Hey, look, he knows peek-a-boo.” Nobody thought the old man was cute.
He was obviously drunk. My husband and I were embarrassed.
We ate in silence; all except for Erik, who was running through his repertoire for the admiring skid row bum, who in turn, reciprocated with his cute comments.

We finally got through the meal and headed for the door. My husband went to pay the check and told me to meet him in the parking lot. The old man sat poised between me and the door.
“Lord, just let me out of here before he speaks to me or Erik,” I prayed. As I drew closer to the man, I turned my back trying to sidestep him and avoid any air he might be breathing. As I did, Erik leaned over my arm, reaching with both arms in a baby’s “pick-me-up” position. Before I could stop him, Erik had propelled himself from my arms to the man’s. Suddenly a very old smelly man and a very young baby consummated their relationship. Erik in an act of total trust, love, and submission laid his tiny head upon the man’s ragged shoulder.

The man’s eyes closed, and I saw tears hover beneath his lashes. His aged hands full of grime, pain, and hard labor, cradled my baby’s bottom and stroked his back. No two beings have ever loved so deeply for so short a time. I stood awestruck. The old man rocked and cradled Erik in his arms and his eyes opened and set squarely on mine. He said in a firm commanding voice, “You take care of this baby.” Somehow I managed, “I will,” from a throat that contained a stone.

He pried Erik from his chest unwillingly, longingly, as though he were in pain. I received my baby, and the man said, “God bless you, ma’am, you’ve given me my Christmas gift. You see, m’am, I never saw my child grow up. My wife and son were taken from me in an automobile accident when they were both too young. I was never able to get over it.”

The Red Rose - A Meeting of the Heart

by: Author Unknown

John Blanchard stood up from the bench, straightened his Army uniform, and studied the crowd of people making their way through Grand Central Station. He looked for the girl whose heart he knew, but whose face he didn’t, the girl with the rose.

His interest in her had begun thirteen months before in a Florida library. Taking a book off the shelf he found himself intrigued, not with the words of the book, but with the notes penciled in the margin. The soft handwriting reflected a thoughtful soul and insightful mind. In the front of the book, he discovered the previous owner’s name, Miss Hollis Maynell.

With time and effort he located her address. She lived in New York City. He wrote her a letter introducing himself and inviting her to correspond. The next day he was shipped overseas for service in World War II. During the next year and one month the two grew to know each other through the mail. Each letter was a seed falling on a fertile heart. A romance was budding. Blanchard requested a photograph, but she refused. She felt that if he really cared, it wouldn’t matter what she looked like.

When the day finally came for him to return from Europe, they scheduled their first meeting - 7:00 PM at the Grand Central Station in New York. “You’ll recognize me,” she wrote, “by the red rose I’ll be wearing on my lapel.” So at 7:00 he was in the station looking for a girl whose heart he loved, but whose face he’d never seen.

I’ll let Mr. Blanchard tell you what happened:

“A young woman was coming toward me, her figure long and slim. Her blonde hair lay back in curls from her delicate ears; her eyes were blue as flowers. Her lips and chin had a gentle firmness, and in her pale green suit she was like springtime come alive. I started toward her, entirely forgetting to notice that she was not wearing a rose. As I moved, a small, provocative smile curved her lips.” “Going my way, sailor?” she murmured. “Almost uncontrollably I made one step closer to her, and then I saw Hollis Maynell. She was standing almost directly behind the girl. A woman well past 40, she had graying hair tucked under a worn hat. She was more than plump, her thick-ankled feet thrust into low- heeled shoes. The girl in the green suit was walking quickly away.

I felt as though I was split in two, so keen was my desire to follow her, and yet so deep was my longing for the woman whose spirit had truly companioned me and upheld my own.

And there she stood. Her pale, plump face was gentle and sensible, her gray eyes had a warm and kindly twinkle. I did not hesitate. My fingers gripped the small worn blue leather copy of the book that was to identify me to her. This would not be love, but it would be something precious, something perhaps even better than love, a friendship for which I had been and must ever be grateful. I squared my shoulders and saluted and held out the book to the woman, even though while I spoke I felt choked by the bitterness of my disappointment.”

“I’m Lieutenant John Blanchard, and you must be Miss Maynell. I am so glad you could meet me; may I take you to dinner?”

The woman’s face broadened into a tolerant smile. “I don’t know what this is about, son,” she answered, “but the young lady in the green suit who just went by, she begged me to wear this rose on my coat. And she said if you were to ask me out to dinner, I should go ahead and tell you that she is waiting for you in the big restaurant across the street. She said it was some kind of test!”

The three biggest cold-calling mistakes

There is an art to cold calling, but recruiters commonly make three mistakes when picking up the phone, according to Marker Consulting managing director, Diane Marker.

In a recent series of training updates on the topic, Marker says clients are busy people, and when making a cold call, “you have to be able to provide a service, not be a pest”.

Get More Great Tips by visiting www.axelhenriksen.com

Success Principle #2, is something that I’ve observed in every top producer and income earner I’ve ever met.

It goes along the lines of, “Either pay now, or you will pay later.”

Truth is, either way, you WILL pay.

And what you pay for, is exactly what you’ll get.

The higher the stakes, the higher the price you’ll have to pay to earn them.

Famous Speaker Jim Rohn says, “Do whatever you have to do as quickly as you can, so you can do whatever you WANT to do, for as long as you can.”

You see, successful people do the things TODAY, that others won’t do, so that successful people can do the things TOMORROW, that others CAN’T do.

It’s not a matter of whether or not you’ll pay, but WHEN you’ll pay. Either you can take care of your finances now, or they will take care of YOU later.

If you only play when the odds are against you, you’ll find that you are always just “getting by”.

And…you will also find that you are consistently going from a state of chaos to a state of temporary “survival”.

This is a life of mediocrity. I know because I used to live it.

But when I learned Success Principle #2, everything began to come together and make more sense.

So, Success Principle #2, is this…

“You must be a Four Quarter Player”, not a “4th QUARTER Player”.

You must always be “on”, even when you are “off”.

When I wasn’t speaking to people, late at night for example, I would read books, listen to CDs, and invest in myself, by reviewing what I did that day and what I was committed to doing the next day.

I cut out the TV, quit hanging out with people who were not committed to transformation and I’d limit the time with those who were whiners and complainers.

I chose to play in a bigger game, all the time, constantly looking for solutions, creating marketing ideas and then implementing them into my daily routine.

Remember, it’s not what you do that counts towards your best success, it’s what you do DAILY!

Be a “Four Quarter Player”. There is no other way to succeed.

Until next time, when I send Success Principle #3,

Information Please
by Author Unknown

When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember well the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother used to talk to it. Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person her name was “Information Please” and there was nothing she did not know. “Information Please” could supply anybody’s number and the correct time.

My first personal experience with this genie-in-the-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor.
Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer. The pain was terrible, but there didn’t seem to be any reason in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy. I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway.

The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the foot stool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear.
“Information Please,” I said into the mouthpiece just above my head. A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear.

“Information”

“I hurt my finger…” I wailed into the phone. The tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.

“Isn’t your mother home?” came the question.

“Nobody’s home but me,” I blubbered.

“Are you bleeding?” the voice asked.

“No,” I replied. “I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts.”

“Can you open your icebox?” she asked. I said I could.

“Then chip off a little piece of ice and hold it to your finger,” said the voice.

After that, I called “Information Please” for everything. I asked her for help with my geography and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk, that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts. Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary died. I called “Information Please”
and told her the sad story. She listened, then said the usual things grown ups say to soothe a child. But I was unconsoled. I asked her, “Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?” She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, “Paul, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in.”
Somehow I felt better.

Another day I was on the telephone. “Information Please.”

“Information,” said the now familiar voice.

“How do you spell fix?” I asked.

All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much.
“Information Please” belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the tall, shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me. Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity, I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.

A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle I had about half-an-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now.

Then, without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, “Information, please.”

Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well.

“Information.”

I hadn’t planned this, but I heard myself saying, ” Could you please tell me how to spell fix?”

There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, “I guess your finger must have healed by now.”

I laughed, “So it’s really still you,” I said. “I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time.”

“I wonder,” she said, “if you know how much your calls meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls.”

I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.

“Please do,” she said. “Just ask for Sally.”

Three months later I was back in Seattle. A different voice answered,”Information.”

I asked for Sally. “Are you a friend?” she said.

“Yes, a very old friend,” I answered.

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this,” she said. “Sally had been working part time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago.”

Before I could hang up she said, “Wait a minute. Is your name Paul?”

“Yes.”

“Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called. Let me read it to you.” The note said, “Tell him I still say there are other worlds to sing in.
He’ll know what I mean.”

I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.

Never underestimate the impression you may make on others.
Whose life have you touched today?

KEEP YOUR DREAM
by Author Unknown

I have a friend named Monty Roberts who owns a horse ranch in San Ysidro. He has let me use his house to put on fund-raising events to raise money for youth at risk programs.

The last time I was there he introduced me by saying, “I want to tell you why I let Jack use my horse. It all goes back to a story about a young man who was the son of an itinerant horse trainer who would go from stable to stable, race track to race track, farm to farm and ranch to ranch, training horses. As a result, the boy’s high school career was continually interrupted. When he was a senior, he was asked to write a paper about what he wanted to be and do when he grew up.

“That night he wrote a seven-page paper describing his goal of someday owning a horse ranch. He wrote about his dream in great detail and he even drew a diagram of a 200-acre ranch, showing the location of all the buildings, the stables and the track. Then he drew a detailed floor plan for a 4,000-square-foot house that would sit on a 200-acre dream ranch.

“He put a great deal of his heart into the project and the next day he handed it in to his teacher. Two days later he received his paper back. On the front page was a large red F with a note that read, `See me after class.’

“The boy with the dream went to see the teacher after class and asked, `Why did I receive an F?’

“The teacher said, `This is an unrealistic dream for a young boy like you. You have no money. You come from an itinerant family. You have no resources. Owning a horse ranch requires a lot of money. You have to buy the land. You have to pay for the original breeding stock and later you’ll have to pay large stud fees. There’s no way you could ever do it.’ Then the teacher added, `If you will rewrite this paper with a more realistic goal, I will reconsider your grade.’

“The boy went home and thought about it long and hard. He asked his father what he should do. His father said, `Look, son, you have to make up your own mind on this. However, I think it is a very important decision for you.’ “Finally, after sitting with it for a week, the boy turned in the same paper, making no changes at all.

He stated, “You can keep the F and I’ll keep my dream.”

Monty then turned to the assembled group and said, “I tell you this story because you are sitting in my 4,000-square-foot house in the middle of my 200-acre horse ranch. I still have that school paper framed over the fireplace.” He added, “The best part of the story is that two summers ago that same schoolteacher brought 30 kids to camp out on my ranch for a week.” When the teacher was leaving, he said, “Look, Monty, I can tell you this now.
When I was your teacher, I was something of a dream stealer.
During those years I stole a lot of kids’ dreams.
Fortunately you had enough gumption not to give up on yours.”

“Don’t let anyone steal your dreams. Follow your heart, no matter what.”

Get Your Dreamboard to Help You Make yours Come True: http://www.millionairemakersinternational.com/mindmovies.htm

Networking University
Presents
Step into the Web

By Paul Gillin

For small business owners, the benefits of blogs, podcasts, online video and social networks are so compelling-at such low costs-that you owe it to yourself to look at the opportunities.

You don’t have to be a technology geek or a professional writer to take advantage of these new tools. You do need to be passionate and informed about a topic and have the time and commitment to write frequently about it. For most small businesses, that means an hour or two a week. Here are some quick steps to get started.

Find out what others are already saying about your area of expertise. Sites like Technorati and Google Blog Search will get you started listening in on the conversation. Set up some Google Alerts about topics that interest you and start getting regular updates on what others are saying. While you’re at it, set up an alert on your own name to see when others mention you.

Once you find writers with similar interests, carve out a special niche for yourself. It could be your topic, your writing style or the approach that you take. Differentiating yourself is a matter of figuring out how your voice can stand out from the others. Even in crowded markets, it’s possible to be distinctive.

Go to a free service such as Blogger.com or WordPress.com and start your blog. It’s easy and you’ll be publishing to the web in minutes. Contact bloggers with similar interests, introduce yourself and let them know what you’re writing about. Link to them and ask for a reciprocal link. This is critical to building traffic.

Experiment with other media. Grab a cheap digital camera and take pictures of your prospects and team members in action. A fifty-dollar microphone and free editing software such as Audacity can have you producing Internet audio in no time. Annotate a PowerPoint presentation with voice commentary and post it for people to download.

Get yourself registered on the top search engines and blog directories. Technorati and BlogPulse are two services that show who is linking to you. MasterNewMedia has a huge library of directories and search services with instructions about how to submit your site to each one. It’s fun to watch your blog climb the rankings!

Comment on other people’s blogs and link back to your site. Be courteous and humble. Don’t sell or deceive. Focus on helping your visitors do their jobs better. They’ll quickly see the value you have to offer.

Don’t get discouraged if you don’t see immediate results. The most successful bloggers have been at their craft for two or three years. It takes time and commitment but the rewards are substantial. You’ll never spend so little to get so much in return.