Last week, I launched my new VoiceMonkey web site. Please do check it out at www.voicemonkey.co.uk
As a brand new concept, I asked a number of friends and associates what they thought of the idea. Now it's not like I was pitching to Dragon's Den here, but the general opinion of everyone I spoke with was that it is a good idea and is bound to be very popular.
For those of you who have not yet checked it out (and what's the matter with you anyway) The VoiceMonkey is an opportunity for people to download personalised celebrity impressions to use on their phone, be it for ringtonesor my personal favourite, voice mail greetings.
You see, when I was a youngster back in the eighties, my parents bought the house an answering machine and it was clearly a vision of the future. Being tape based, it was only a matter of time before comedy messages became available in the shops and these guys did pretty good business with them.
Fast forward some 25 years and it seems that the same product is not yet available for the ubiquitous mobile, which clearly needs to change. Feel free to join the revolution and visit the site. You can also follow it on Twitter and Facebook. See? I really am trying to cover my bases here.
To launch, I took a small promotional stand at a shopping centre in Harlow in Essex for a long weekend of Friday to Sunday. In a word, fail, but not for the reason that the idea isn't any good, because it is, so there.
What was strange was how many people would walk up to or near the stand, ask in a rhetorical, yet out loud manner, "what's Voice Monkey?" and then walk straight off!
I just don't get it. You find yourself curious about something. You vocalise that curiosity and better yet, you are standing opposite someone who can clearly answer your questions but what do you do? You walk away!
I would really like to think that I am not like that. I have a healthy thirst for knowledge and if the opportunity to get my questions answered are there, then I am asking my questions.
So what do you want to know about me? Are you wondering if I can do a particular voice or if I can sing a certain way? Are you wondering if I represent other voice artists? Well stop wondering, pick up the phone and call me. My web site does not feature an FAQ because the beauty of the world of voice over is that the questions are just about as random as anyone could hope for!
Ultimately, don't be afraid to ask. No one in business has ever been bothered about answering questions. I don't want to suggest that there is no such thing as a stupid question because there is. There are tons of them, but isn't it better to just ask it and get it answered than spending your time simply not knowing?
That last one...was rhetorical.
Thursday, 9 December 2010
Thursday, 28 October 2010
Cultural differences can make people rude
Now I have no problem with people being direct. In fact, people often form a less than desirable first impression of me because I am so direct. I pride myself in an honest approach that cuts through all of the crap and gets the job done, and so I figured that if I came across people of similar thinking, I would be both happy and comfortable.
And then I came to Israel.
I'm no stranger to this land. I have family here, took part in a one month long tour of the country when I was 16 and even worked as a presenter at an off shore radio station back in the early nineties. So I have always known that the locals can generally come across as quite short with people when actually, it's just a language thing.
It seems that the English language is actually quite polite. We say "please can I have a pint of beer if you'd be so kind bartender?" where other parts of the world will simply say "beer" and get the same result. They're not being rude, it's just the way their language works.
But then we need to factor in some other things. Tel Aviv is a city of some half a million people. Not bad for a country which has only been independent for 60 years. Trouble is that the roads are so full up with cars, busses, mopeds and bikes that driving there is not so much a means to an end, but more a true measure of just how big your balls are. It is bloody terrifying. Woe betide you if you don't move away from the traffic light the nano second it turns green. Indicators? Well they're a nice idea but surely a car darting into your lane is indication enough isn't it? Speed limits? I did see some numbers on the road but clearly they're more of a guideline than a rule.
And you think that's bad? Try walking on the pavement, where it seems that the same blatant disregard for personal space is in full effect. If you can make it down one stretch of road without bumping into someone, getting clipped by a bicycle or generally pissed off at just how many people are in your frickin way then I reckon they whisk you straight into Mossad to put your special skills to good use.
And so the question remains. Do they all appear rude and impatient because of a language barrier, or has a lifetime of having one's personal space invaded actually made them rude and impatient?
I have thoroughly enjoyed my time here, but I am ready to go home and enjoy a nice leisurely walk down the street with nothing but the voices in my head for company.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
And then I came to Israel.
I'm no stranger to this land. I have family here, took part in a one month long tour of the country when I was 16 and even worked as a presenter at an off shore radio station back in the early nineties. So I have always known that the locals can generally come across as quite short with people when actually, it's just a language thing.
It seems that the English language is actually quite polite. We say "please can I have a pint of beer if you'd be so kind bartender?" where other parts of the world will simply say "beer" and get the same result. They're not being rude, it's just the way their language works.
But then we need to factor in some other things. Tel Aviv is a city of some half a million people. Not bad for a country which has only been independent for 60 years. Trouble is that the roads are so full up with cars, busses, mopeds and bikes that driving there is not so much a means to an end, but more a true measure of just how big your balls are. It is bloody terrifying. Woe betide you if you don't move away from the traffic light the nano second it turns green. Indicators? Well they're a nice idea but surely a car darting into your lane is indication enough isn't it? Speed limits? I did see some numbers on the road but clearly they're more of a guideline than a rule.
And you think that's bad? Try walking on the pavement, where it seems that the same blatant disregard for personal space is in full effect. If you can make it down one stretch of road without bumping into someone, getting clipped by a bicycle or generally pissed off at just how many people are in your frickin way then I reckon they whisk you straight into Mossad to put your special skills to good use.
And so the question remains. Do they all appear rude and impatient because of a language barrier, or has a lifetime of having one's personal space invaded actually made them rude and impatient?
I have thoroughly enjoyed my time here, but I am ready to go home and enjoy a nice leisurely walk down the street with nothing but the voices in my head for company.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Monday, 18 October 2010
You get what you pay for
Well here I am coming up on the half way mark of my Easyjet flight to Israel and so far, everything is going pretty much as expected.
In other words, not that great.
Not that I am one to complain. Actually, that's not strictly true; I am THE one to complain, but only when my expectations are not being met, and in this case, I made a point of setting my expectations low, and so far I am doing rather well.
Saga number one was being advised by the airline to arrive 3 hours before the flight, as opposed to the regular 2. When we arrived, we were told that the systems were down so we would have to wait an hour and then check in. Brilliant.
Saga number two is that the family travelling with us made a point of checking in online in order to speed up the process. Whilst we waited to check in, they waited to drop their bags off. Their queue was much shorter than ours. We arrived at the front at the same time.
Saga number three was that the flight was delayed by an hour and then as we waited on the Tarmac, yet another hour went by before we finally took off.
The queue it seemed, was made up primarily of whingers. People tutted and moaned and voiced their low opinions of Easyjet and do you know, that was actually the thing that annoyed me the most.
I've flown with this airline on numerous occasions. I do so because it is cheap and because it strikes me that anything under 5 hours in the air really doesn't need meals, movies and all the other frills factored in to the price of my ticket.
The fact is that it is extremely rare that a flight with them goes completely smoothly. To show up at the airport, whisk through security, find my plane waiting, board, relax and fly - all on time, is a luxury I have come to accept as close to impossible.
So why moan? Why bother having a pop at the people who work here? It's rarely their fault. People need to vent, I certainly get that, but come on, you're about to go on holiday. You've got days of sun, sand and sea ahead of you and all you have to do is wait a couple of extra hours. Whack on a smile, suck it up and try and focus on the positive here.
We were hoping that young Felix might like to sleep on the plane. Well no such luck. He is wide awake and in desperate need of entertainment, and the Peppa Pig on his MP4 player is wearing a little thin.
None the less, I am on holiday and feeling good. Of course, if the hotel isn't up to scratch, then I am ready to get medieval on them. Hmmmm.... Pick a fight with an Israeli, I am not sure I fancy my chances.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
In other words, not that great.
Not that I am one to complain. Actually, that's not strictly true; I am THE one to complain, but only when my expectations are not being met, and in this case, I made a point of setting my expectations low, and so far I am doing rather well.
Saga number one was being advised by the airline to arrive 3 hours before the flight, as opposed to the regular 2. When we arrived, we were told that the systems were down so we would have to wait an hour and then check in. Brilliant.
Saga number two is that the family travelling with us made a point of checking in online in order to speed up the process. Whilst we waited to check in, they waited to drop their bags off. Their queue was much shorter than ours. We arrived at the front at the same time.
Saga number three was that the flight was delayed by an hour and then as we waited on the Tarmac, yet another hour went by before we finally took off.
The queue it seemed, was made up primarily of whingers. People tutted and moaned and voiced their low opinions of Easyjet and do you know, that was actually the thing that annoyed me the most.
I've flown with this airline on numerous occasions. I do so because it is cheap and because it strikes me that anything under 5 hours in the air really doesn't need meals, movies and all the other frills factored in to the price of my ticket.
The fact is that it is extremely rare that a flight with them goes completely smoothly. To show up at the airport, whisk through security, find my plane waiting, board, relax and fly - all on time, is a luxury I have come to accept as close to impossible.
So why moan? Why bother having a pop at the people who work here? It's rarely their fault. People need to vent, I certainly get that, but come on, you're about to go on holiday. You've got days of sun, sand and sea ahead of you and all you have to do is wait a couple of extra hours. Whack on a smile, suck it up and try and focus on the positive here.
We were hoping that young Felix might like to sleep on the plane. Well no such luck. He is wide awake and in desperate need of entertainment, and the Peppa Pig on his MP4 player is wearing a little thin.
None the less, I am on holiday and feeling good. Of course, if the hotel isn't up to scratch, then I am ready to get medieval on them. Hmmmm.... Pick a fight with an Israeli, I am not sure I fancy my chances.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Sunday, 10 October 2010
The best laid plans...
Well here I sit on my sofa, desperately trying to recover from a half marathon for which I was woefully undertrained. Yes, I did finish it, thanks for asking, and I am actually quite pleased with my time.
As soon as my knees stop feeling like they've burst into flames I can start training properly for the 2011 London Marathon as the sadistic gits who organise it have given me a space. Oh well.
You get a lot of time to think when your mashing your feet into two useless slabs of meat and bone. As soon as you stop thinking about how far you've run or how far you still have to go, you can find yourself taking stock of your life.
You see, I had a dream. I mean, we're not talking Martin Luther King levels here, but none the less I had a dream. When I turned 39 last November I told myself that I would be a full time voice artist by the time I turned 40. It's not that I don't like my job or the people I'm forced to work with, it's just that I have aspirations that transcend the nine to five and, after having tasted a small degree of success, certainly felt that I wanted more.
So I built the website. I did email campaigns. I blogged. I tweeted. I even sometimes just picked up the phone and cold called people. I genuinely felt that I was making all of the right moves but sadly, one year later, and I will still be going into the office tomorrow.
What I have realised is that I have not been realistic about my efforts. Being a voice over is not like being an actor. You have to view yourself as a business, and as a business, just how much work do I expect to get by promoting myself for a couple of hours every month? Exactly.
I know now that it is time for me to get real. To use every spare moment of every single day promoting what I can do and just how well I can do it. The waiting world is not looking for me, I need to go and look for them.
The plan is simple. Go on my holiday, switch off from the pressures of the world for ten days, and then come back and take this business forward at full throttle.
To any agents reading this, I'm totally up for representation, but only if you work like a dog with a rag in its mouth!
I will keep blogging while I'm away in Israel so stay tuned.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
As soon as my knees stop feeling like they've burst into flames I can start training properly for the 2011 London Marathon as the sadistic gits who organise it have given me a space. Oh well.
You get a lot of time to think when your mashing your feet into two useless slabs of meat and bone. As soon as you stop thinking about how far you've run or how far you still have to go, you can find yourself taking stock of your life.
You see, I had a dream. I mean, we're not talking Martin Luther King levels here, but none the less I had a dream. When I turned 39 last November I told myself that I would be a full time voice artist by the time I turned 40. It's not that I don't like my job or the people I'm forced to work with, it's just that I have aspirations that transcend the nine to five and, after having tasted a small degree of success, certainly felt that I wanted more.
So I built the website. I did email campaigns. I blogged. I tweeted. I even sometimes just picked up the phone and cold called people. I genuinely felt that I was making all of the right moves but sadly, one year later, and I will still be going into the office tomorrow.
What I have realised is that I have not been realistic about my efforts. Being a voice over is not like being an actor. You have to view yourself as a business, and as a business, just how much work do I expect to get by promoting myself for a couple of hours every month? Exactly.
I know now that it is time for me to get real. To use every spare moment of every single day promoting what I can do and just how well I can do it. The waiting world is not looking for me, I need to go and look for them.
The plan is simple. Go on my holiday, switch off from the pressures of the world for ten days, and then come back and take this business forward at full throttle.
To any agents reading this, I'm totally up for representation, but only if you work like a dog with a rag in its mouth!
I will keep blogging while I'm away in Israel so stay tuned.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Sunday, 26 September 2010
Calling in sick just isn't what it was
You know, when I'm not tirelessly working away in my booth recording the next gripping installment of health and safety videos for power plants, I still work in an office. As much as I would love to declare myself a full time voice over artist, the wife insists that I keep a roof over our heads and food on the table.
So, those of you who also work in offices will surely find a way to relate.
Right now, I have a nasty cold. I'm saying cold because I have not been to the doctor, taking valuable time out of my day to be told that I have a virus, that there is nothing they can do about it and that the best thing for me would be fluid and bed rest. You don't even need to log in to NHS Direct for that kind of genius diagnosis - you can actually do it yourself. All you have to do is wake up feeling a bit rubbish and just assume the rest yourself.
I mean seriously, I don't know if your doctor's office is anything like mine but they always chime in with "Is it something you feel you need to see a doctor for right away?" Well how the hell would I know? I mean it might be nothing at all or it might be very serious - I simply don't have the medical training!
Then they tell you that there's nothing available for 2 weeks, so you ask if you could see them any sooner and, hey presto, an appointment is available tomorrow. It happens every time and the people at the surgery don't think that the more intelligent amongst their patients might have actually figured out the system by now. None the less, we soldier on and in this instance, I've decided not to bother negotiating for an appointment - I'm fairly sure that Lemsip will do the trick.
Now here's the tricky part. Assuming that you didn't get a formal diagnosis and follow the same path as me, you're now left with the daunting prospect of phoning in sick. As close to death as you might sound on the phone, there's always that little voice in your head that tells you, "Sound more ill. They don't believe you. They think you've just had a heavy weekend and that the Tequila hasn't quite made it out of your system yet." Yup - calling in sick on a Monday is ten times worse than any other day of the week.
Fact is that you could video call in from an oxygen tent and you'd still be paranoid that they don't believe you. The problem there is that the 'voice' can sometimes backfire:
"Hello (cough for effect), yeah I fell off a ladder and I've broken my leg"
"Well what's wrong with your voice"
"Technically nothing - I really was just going for sympathy"
GAME OVER - GET YOUR SORRY ARSE TO WORK RIGHT NOW.
Part of me wonders what would happen if I were a full time Voice Over. You see, before I started feeling proper nasty, the first thing to go was my throat. Not enough to stay home from work but not pleasant all the same. Trouble is, my voice isn't working properly, and that means that unless I've been cast in a commercial for a cold and flu remedy, I'm pretty much out of commission until my voice gets better.
It's weird, but being self employed in the world of voice over really would be a dream come true for me, but a simple sniffle has got me quite concerned, because even a few days out of action could seriously jeopardise my next dinner.
Have fun - always.
So, those of you who also work in offices will surely find a way to relate.
Right now, I have a nasty cold. I'm saying cold because I have not been to the doctor, taking valuable time out of my day to be told that I have a virus, that there is nothing they can do about it and that the best thing for me would be fluid and bed rest. You don't even need to log in to NHS Direct for that kind of genius diagnosis - you can actually do it yourself. All you have to do is wake up feeling a bit rubbish and just assume the rest yourself.
I mean seriously, I don't know if your doctor's office is anything like mine but they always chime in with "Is it something you feel you need to see a doctor for right away?" Well how the hell would I know? I mean it might be nothing at all or it might be very serious - I simply don't have the medical training!
Then they tell you that there's nothing available for 2 weeks, so you ask if you could see them any sooner and, hey presto, an appointment is available tomorrow. It happens every time and the people at the surgery don't think that the more intelligent amongst their patients might have actually figured out the system by now. None the less, we soldier on and in this instance, I've decided not to bother negotiating for an appointment - I'm fairly sure that Lemsip will do the trick.
Now here's the tricky part. Assuming that you didn't get a formal diagnosis and follow the same path as me, you're now left with the daunting prospect of phoning in sick. As close to death as you might sound on the phone, there's always that little voice in your head that tells you, "Sound more ill. They don't believe you. They think you've just had a heavy weekend and that the Tequila hasn't quite made it out of your system yet." Yup - calling in sick on a Monday is ten times worse than any other day of the week.
Fact is that you could video call in from an oxygen tent and you'd still be paranoid that they don't believe you. The problem there is that the 'voice' can sometimes backfire:
"Hello (cough for effect), yeah I fell off a ladder and I've broken my leg"
"Well what's wrong with your voice"
"Technically nothing - I really was just going for sympathy"
GAME OVER - GET YOUR SORRY ARSE TO WORK RIGHT NOW.
Part of me wonders what would happen if I were a full time Voice Over. You see, before I started feeling proper nasty, the first thing to go was my throat. Not enough to stay home from work but not pleasant all the same. Trouble is, my voice isn't working properly, and that means that unless I've been cast in a commercial for a cold and flu remedy, I'm pretty much out of commission until my voice gets better.
It's weird, but being self employed in the world of voice over really would be a dream come true for me, but a simple sniffle has got me quite concerned, because even a few days out of action could seriously jeopardise my next dinner.
Have fun - always.
Tuesday, 14 September 2010
Keep it Consistent - or I'm Off!
Aside from the hours that I spend behind the microphone every day, I always top up the payments on my private jet by working in a sales environment. It comes in very handy when putting myself forward for corporate work, as twenty five years in sales has given me a natural tone which people find reassuring. I don’t know about you but I personally hate being screamed at by some children’s presenter in a suit. People just don’t like being sold to, but they do love to buy. Those aren’t my words, they’re the words of one of my favourite sales gurus - Jeffrey Gitomer.
Jeffrey has written loads of books and given talks and seminars around the globe that have helped bad sales people become good, and good sales people become unstoppable. He has an enthusiasm which is truly infectious. if you’re in sales, I highly recommend checking him out.
He also produces a weekly newsletter, as indeed many sales training people do, and that’s what’s inspired this week’s blog.
You see, I subscribe to a number of these newsletters and eZines - seriously, how is that even a word anyway? Week by week I receive what I consider to be good guidance from sales professionals whose experience and knowledge I respect. Sure, there’s a lot of stuff that I’ve heard before and that’s fine, but as long as it’s useful, I’ll read it.
Today, that all went wrong. Now I won’t name the sales person in question because it would not be fair to them (I’m saying them instead of him or her so there are no clues). For the past few weeks I’ve been reading what this person had to say with great interest. They had some great tips and even turned me on to a new type of service which I think could do wonders for my business. I became excited about receiving the next installment, because a simple five minutes out of my day to read something could really bolster my figures right? WRONG.
Today, this person started going on about the Laws of Attraction, and how visualising something can make it real. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m a great believer in that sort of thing. I’m all for a positive mental attitude and I am often amazed at how someone who I haven’t thought about for 10 years will pop into my head and then come back into my life within a week. This stuff does happen - I’ve read The Secret. Well, I say read, I’ve got the audio book on my iPod but it’s just not the right thing to listen to on a 5 mile run.
What annoyed me is that this ‘guru’ had taken the basic elements of The Secret, changed a few words without changing the message, and then put it out there as their own wisdom. I don’t have too much of an issue with their blatant copying - we do it all the time. What bugged me is that this person went in a totally different direction with his training, and it was totally without warning too.
If I want a bunch of crystal wearing, naked chanting, tree hugging, vegetarian, soul searching sentiment then there are plenty of places that I can go. If you want to market yourself in that space then that’s fine. Perhaps you can offer a free yoga session to everyone who buys your book - no doubt printed on recycled paper by farmers who are happy to be paid in love rather than actual money. But if you want to teach people how to succeed in business, telling them to smile and be positive is simply not good enough.
They tell me that ‘Whatever I believe, will be reality’. Interesting, I believe you’re about to lose a subscriber.....incredible...this stuff actually works!
Sunday, 5 September 2010
Learn to speak properly
You know, there are a number of things in life that really wind me up. Subscribe to this blog and within a few weeks you'll come to think of me as someone who really shouldn't be entrusted with any sort of firearm. Seriously, I'm a five minute walk from the Big Brother House here - surely no jury in the world would convict?
That said, my biggest gripe is the death of the English language. Now don't get me wrong - I'm not one of these blokes who walks around in a tweed jacket, smoking a pipe and thinking that we should all be reading Shakespeare over a nice cup of tea and a slice of Battenburg, but I do think that the way people speak has taken a bit a downhill slide.
People have just become so lazy haven't they? In my role as a sales person, I've spent a good number of hours on the phone to some very well respected organisations, and so my teeth really do grind together when I am greeting with "Good mornin'," or asked "Who's callin'?"
No - don't start imagining a West Country accent with all the charm that goes with it. I've no problem being greeted with a hearty "Good Mornin'" from a friendly farmer, perched aloft his tractor with a pint of scrumpy, chewing on an ear of corn. That I love, but some Chav who I can just picture with her fake tan, hooped earrings and Muppet of a boyfriend just serves to annoy me.
I mean, come on! When did the G at the end of words start to become silent?
Oh we can get lazier than that though can't we? The other day I actually heard someone say OMG - not text it, they actually said it with their voice. Now let's just think this through with some logic shall we? The words Oh my god have the exact same number of syllables as OMG - so there's no time saved there. But then what if someone overheard the comment and didn't actually know what OMG stood for? It happens - we're not all down with the kids. Well then the person has to explain it, thus taking over twice as long as the original comment and therefore making the entire abbreviation process UTTERLY REDUNDANT.
There's more - lots more, but I'll keep it to three for this week's blog and perhaps save up some more for next time. Recently the weather around here was very lovely - in fact it got a little too hot on one particular day. I commented along the lines of "It's getting a bit too hot out there," and the reply I got was simply "D'ya know what I mean?" NO! I know what I mean - you haven't actually said anything at all!
But let us allow this blog to become a forum. A chance for people to exorcise their demons with the written word, as opposed to a pair of nunchucks and a misguided sense of social responsibility. Please add your comments - what mutilation to our language annoys you? Come on, let's take back our mother tongue!
That said, my biggest gripe is the death of the English language. Now don't get me wrong - I'm not one of these blokes who walks around in a tweed jacket, smoking a pipe and thinking that we should all be reading Shakespeare over a nice cup of tea and a slice of Battenburg, but I do think that the way people speak has taken a bit a downhill slide.
People have just become so lazy haven't they? In my role as a sales person, I've spent a good number of hours on the phone to some very well respected organisations, and so my teeth really do grind together when I am greeting with "Good mornin'," or asked "Who's callin'?"
No - don't start imagining a West Country accent with all the charm that goes with it. I've no problem being greeted with a hearty "Good Mornin'" from a friendly farmer, perched aloft his tractor with a pint of scrumpy, chewing on an ear of corn. That I love, but some Chav who I can just picture with her fake tan, hooped earrings and Muppet of a boyfriend just serves to annoy me.
I mean, come on! When did the G at the end of words start to become silent?
Oh we can get lazier than that though can't we? The other day I actually heard someone say OMG - not text it, they actually said it with their voice. Now let's just think this through with some logic shall we? The words Oh my god have the exact same number of syllables as OMG - so there's no time saved there. But then what if someone overheard the comment and didn't actually know what OMG stood for? It happens - we're not all down with the kids. Well then the person has to explain it, thus taking over twice as long as the original comment and therefore making the entire abbreviation process UTTERLY REDUNDANT.
There's more - lots more, but I'll keep it to three for this week's blog and perhaps save up some more for next time. Recently the weather around here was very lovely - in fact it got a little too hot on one particular day. I commented along the lines of "It's getting a bit too hot out there," and the reply I got was simply "D'ya know what I mean?" NO! I know what I mean - you haven't actually said anything at all!
But let us allow this blog to become a forum. A chance for people to exorcise their demons with the written word, as opposed to a pair of nunchucks and a misguided sense of social responsibility. Please add your comments - what mutilation to our language annoys you? Come on, let's take back our mother tongue!
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