Because hoping you know is a different business entirely.
But a year in the office every day, figuring things out, is a year the market told you nothing — because nobody asked it anything.
Five thousand a month by December, then look again.
Good goal. It's specific enough to divide.
You don't control two sales. You control twelve conversations — and you can do them before ten in the morning.
Thirty conversations. Not selling — asking. Twenty-nine years in the field, building training for people who got handed a bag and no instructions, and before you build any more of it you want to talk to twenty people doing the job.
Twenty minutes, nothing to buy. Almost nobody says no to that — and few of them end without the other person asking what you do.
The one result you have, you gave away. What do you say when someone asks who has paid you for this?
| Asked, each week | 10 |
| Held, each week | 5 |
| Written in their words | 5 |
| Offers made at $2,500 | 1 |
| By 31 August — paid | 1–2 |
Thirty in, you start hearing the same five sentences from people who've never met each other. Those five sentences are the business.
And they answer the podcast. A podcast alone produces nothing. What produces something is one free thing you name twice, at an address simple enough to say out loud — and yours is already in your lap: twenty interviews and what they told you they're afraid of.
| Reached, weekly | 60 |
| Conversations, weekly | 12 |
| Pains, in their words | 10 |
| Dreams, in their words | 10 |
| Paid clients | 2 |
This is the month that decides it. Everyone who already knew you is spent, and the cold work hasn't warmed yet. The number goes flat for reasons that have nothing to do with whether you're any good.
You said the fortune's in the follow-up. Follow up with whom — where does that list live?
| Reached, weekly | 60 |
| Per working day | 12 |
| Follow-ups on no-reply | 25 |
| Paid — one a stranger | 2 |
Eight weeks each, twice a week for the first four, plus calls whenever a deal comes up. Two a month compounds — by now you're carrying four to six at once.
You spent nine years writing manuals so technicians could do the job without you on the phone, and you've called it your favourite work you ever did. You've never once done it for your own business.
By November you'll have explained the same five things to six people. Record each one once. Five minutes. Then client four gets the recording and the live hour goes to his actual deal.
| Active clients | 4–6 |
| Reached — unchanged | 60 |
| Days with zero outreach | 0 |
| Answers recorded, weekly | 1 |
| Paid clients | 2 |
You said you'd reevaluate at the end of the year. This is that — with eight or ten paid clients behind you instead of an opinion.
Four things, in writing. Which three would you want ten more of. Where the ones who paid came from. Which of your four concepts people pay for and which they only nod at. And whether the man in the seat pays, or the company that employs him does.
| Clients, cumulative | 8–10 |
| Collected | $20–25k |
| Close rate | measured |
| Best three named | 3 |
Everyone finishes at week eight and leaves. The ones who got the most from you — the ones who'd pay again tomorrow — have nowhere to go.
Don't invent it. Ask the four who finished what they still need. It'll be simpler and cheaper to deliver than anything you'd design alone.
| Second offer, priced | 1 |
| Existing clients who buy | 2 |
| Referrals asked for | 10 |
Not results. Not effort. Not how the week felt.
One thing, black and white. Gray isn't allowed. Either you did it or you didn't.
Nought to ten — how important is it that August produces a paying client? Whatever you land on, ask why it isn't three lower. That answer is the reason, and the reason is what makes the date hold.
Then a day and a time for each of the three. Not next week. No date and time on a thing means it isn't a priority and it doesn't happen — you've watched that be true in somebody else's business already.