Painted Baby: Connect with Clients through Brave and Vulnerable Storytelling

By Matt Shoup

Painting a picture of perfection prevents true connection. 

Every business leader has a dirty little secret tucked away, never dreaming they would sh

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lioncrest Publishing
• Release date: Jan 31, 2023
• ISBN: 9781544535838

Matt Shoup

Matt Shoup is a serial entrepreneur, bilingual keynote speaker, and award-winning business leader who is passionate about inspiring entrepreneurs in realizing their leadership potential. Since 2005, Matt has founded six successful companies and been featured on Fox Business, the BBC, U.S. News & World Report, and Entrepreneur. A Brazilian jujitsu black belt, Spanish coffee addict, aspiring paella chef, and fan of all things Spain, Matt lives in northern Colorado with his wife, Emily; their children, Riley and Hailey; and Romeo, their giant schnoodle.

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Advance Praise

Business relationships have historically been made on a balance of partial truths and intentional omissions. That is exactly why businesses struggle to grow. In this book, you will discover how to leverage raw honesty to make more sales and retain more clients than ever before. Your business is about to be transformed—honestly.

—Mike Michalowicz, author of Get Different and Profit First

"Vulnerability creates connection, and Matt’s message is one that all entrepreneurs should take to heart and implement in their business, especially in today’s business landscape. Painted Baby hits the nail on the head in terms of how to do this effectively in your business."

—Jaime Masters, Eventual Millionaire

"Painted Baby is an absolutely brilliant book. In his book, Matt has given us the insider’s roadmap to follow in becoming powerful storytellers. As a business owner and entrepreneur for over five decades, I found this book to be full of pearls of wisdom and insight. If you speak to or communicate with people on any level, this book is a must-read."

—Dave Albin, CEO, Founder, and Master Instructor at Firewalk Productions

Winsome, vulnerable and practical, this page-turner calls us all to be intentional about what is often missing in business and life: the daring challenge to allow ourselves to be seen, even when this involves admitting that we’ve decorated an infant. Inspirational and entertaining. Don’t miss it!

—Jeff Lucas, author, speaker, and broadcaster

Nothing builds trust than a humble, engaging, and authentic story that speaks to the heart of you and your brand. This book will teach you to focus on winning the heart before winning the business.

—JB Kellogg, CEO of Madwire

Matt Shoup is the real deal. He has taken advantage of the opportunities he has been given, sometimes having massive success, sometimes having a ‘learning experience.’ Through his life and business experiences, he shares how he builds trust with his clients, and if you do the same, you will have not only raving fans but also friends for life.

—Dave Sanderson, President of Dave Sanderson Speaks International

Lioncrest Publishing

Copyright © 2023 Matt Shoup

All rights reserved.

Painted Baby

Connect with Clients through Brave and Vulnerable Storytelling

To you, my fellow entrepreneur, who’s already taken a risk by becoming a business owner and leader.

I am proud of you for taking this risk and believing in yourself. I am inspired by your bravery. You truly are amazing!

In this book, I’ll ask you to take another risk and step deeper into that bravery. I believe in you and believe that you are up to the task.

You have a story. An important story, an impactful story, a story that others need to hear.

I am excited and inspired to journey with you through discovering this story and sharing it with others.

I hope this book inspires and encourages you to take the next brave step toward excellence in your life, your leadership, and your business.

I love you. You’ve got this. Together, let’s go get it.

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Contents

Introduction

Part One

The Power of Story

Chapter 1

The Painted Baby Story

Chapter 2

Do You Need to Change Your Story?

Chapter 3

Exploring Your Story

Chapter 4

Testing My Hypothesis

Chapter 5

Painting the Town

Part Two

Telling Your Story

Chapter 6

Capture: The Process of Discovering and Building Your Story

Chapter 7

Craft

Chapter 8

Communicate

Chapter 9

Feedback Matters, But Not All of It

Part Three

Living Your Story

Chapter 10

Leaders Go First

Chapter 11

Yeah, But

Chapter 12

Painted Baby Stories

Chapter 13

Life Is Business, Business Is Life

Conclusion

Acknowledgments

About the Author

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Introduction

I’ve got a dirty little secret. So do you. We’re actually going to talk about them in this book. Are you ready?

I’ll go first.

In the spring of 2011, I was about to close the biggest business deal of my life. My residential painting company, M & E Painting, was still relatively new and landing this project would be a game-changer. But what happened to me that day was bigger than the painting project. What happened in that office changed my business and my relationships with my clients, my team, my vendors, and others close to me. It changed my life.

So, I was sitting across the desk from this guy, Bill. Like me, Bill had worked his way up from nothing. Unlike me, he had been an early shareholder in what became a very well-known company. Bill had started out sweeping floors, and then worked his way up in management, slowly investing in private stock in the business. When it went public, he had a very large payday. The money changed Bill’s life, but it didn’t change Bill. He was still a straight-shooting, hard-working, coffee-drinking, cigar-smoking guy.

So, what was a guy like me doing talking to a guy like this? Well, Bill was not just a client; he was a friend. I met him years ago and had done projects for him in the past, but nothing like this one. This proposal was for a massive custom staining project on Bill’s second home, a place he called his million-dollar baby.

Right then, we were sitting in his primary residence, a Spanish-style mansion set on a golf course. This wasn’t the first time I had been in the place, but every time I visited it seemed bigger and more impressive. I walked through the iron gates, past his putting green, and across the courtyard with its fancy firepit and landscaping. I walked through the ten-foot-high, stained, solid wood front door and into Bill’s office, reminding myself just how well he’s done for himself, maybe better than I realized, and that this project—if I get it—could change my business. Not if I get it, but when I get it. Because Bill always signs the contract. And I always close the deal.

Before we got to my proposal—the potentially life-changing one I had so carefully prepared and tucked into a portfolio—we drank coffee and caught up on small talk. I hadn’t seen Bill in a while, and we had a lot to catch up on. Bill looked comfortable, leaned back in his high-backed leather executive chair. We talked about what had been going on in our businesses and in our lives. After a while, Bill leaned in. It was time to talk business.

I’d had my company, M & E Painting, for five years at that point, and most projects were in the $4,000 range. The proposal I was setting on Bill’s desk was for close to $60,000. It was a fair price for the work involved. And even though I’d known Bill a long time, and done work for him in the past, I still had to sell it. So, I did what I always did. I reminded him of how smoothly those other projects went, and I talked to him about my company’s 98 percent client satisfaction rating. I went through the whole Sales 101 spiel: features, benefits, ask for the business, handle objections, and close the deal. That day, I used my either or close, where I gave the client two options. It’s a good close that worked almost every time. I pushed the contract across the desk along with a nice pen I brought just for this momentous occasion, and I asked Bill which option he’d like to go with.

This is where the client usually signs the contract. Bill, being the decisive guy he is, always signed it. With other clients, sometimes there were questions—what we in the sales world call objections—but like any great salesperson, I was prepared to handle those if they came up. Bill could have had questions this time. He may have wanted to negotiate. After all, this was a major deal. But I was prepared for the questions, the objections, the negotiations.

What I was not prepared for was what Bill did next.

He didn’t pick up the pen. He didn’t even look at the contract. Instead, he slid it back across the desk toward me, like he was rejecting it. Then he leaned back in that big chair, and I could tell by the look on his face that I missed something.

Matt, he said, I don’t know if I’m ready to do this.

Okay, I thought, Bill has questions. Let the tennis match of objection-handling begin.

Bill said nothing, but my mind was going a mile a minute, trying to figure out what I missed. My sales wheels were spinning—what objection haven’t I handled?

Bill, I said, I’ve always done great work for you, so what is it exactly that is preventing you from making this decision? I could have said those words in my sleep; I’ve closed so many deals with them.

Matt, he said, sure, you’ve done great work in the past but this one’s special. It’s my million-dollar baby.

Of course, I can see that, and I’m going to take good care of you, I said. I went back to my old spiel of the features, the benefits, and oh, by the way, have you seen our website lately and all the five-star reviews and the stellar Better Business rating?

I gently pushed the contract back toward Bill and resorted to my scarcity close.

Well, Bill, you know we only have so many spots left. Your house is up in the mountains in Wyoming. It’s going to get cold up there, and harder to do all the interior work without opening the windows. So, we should start soon. Let’s get this on the books so we can move on it this year.

Bill looked at me, but…were his eyes starting to glaze over? I didn’t think he was even listening anymore. It was time to break out my shiny marketing brochure, which of course I had tucked in the folder along with the contract, for just such occasions.

Bill flipped through the pages of my eight-page, three-dollars-and-twenty-five-cents brochure with its full-color photographs and all the right words to dazzle any client, close any deal.

Bill looked at the shiny marketing brochure. Then he looked at me. Then he picked up that shiny marketing brochure and tossed it across the room. It bounced off a bookcase and landed on the floor.

I sat up straight in my chair. What just happened?

Bill sat up in his chair and leaned across his desk, eyes focused on mine. Your shiny marketing brochure is crap, Matt. I want to hear about something you screwed up and what you did about it. So, why don’t you start there?

What the heck? My mind was spinning. Everything I knew about sales and putting my best foot forward with my shiny brochure just got short-circuited. And did Bill just raise his voice to me?

Bill sat back, sipped his coffee, and waited for my response.

You want to hear about a time when something didn’t go well, is that what I heard you say? I asked.

That’s what I said, Matt. I didn’t stutter, did I?

Okay, I’ve got this. I can do this. I have never done something like this before, but Bill asked for it, so here I go.

Well, Bill, last year we had a very busy summer. There was one project where I picked up the paint and dropped it off at a house. My guys had the place all scraped and primed and ready to go. They painted the house and it all looked great until the homeowner showed up and told us it was the wrong color.

I waited for Bill’s response. Now you need to understand that Bill’s a Midwest transplant who wound up in Colorado, but somewhere along the way he picked up a bit of a Texas twang. Although he dressed very casually, normally wearing jeans or golf shorts and a T-shirt, I still sort of pictured him in my mind as wearing a ten-gallon hat and cowboy boots, chewing on a blade of grass.

Whoa, he said, and I could hear that twang. So, you painted the house the wrong color?

Yup, I said, with a shrug. That was a bad day, but we made it right, of course. Got the right paint ordered and had the place repainted just a few days later.

Well, said Bill, I bet that happens with those guys down at the paint store all the time. They work with a lot of contractors, you know.

I nodded because he was right—they don’t always get the paint right, but we usually check it before we start painting.

That’s a good story, I thought, so maybe now he’ll sign the contract.

That’s pretty bad, Matt, but it’s not bad enough. Remember this is my million-dollar baby we’re talking about. Bill leaned back, put his feet up on the corner of his desk, and grinned. "Try again. What’s the worst thing that has happened?"

Okay, well, painting the wrong color on the right house was pretty bad, Bill, but another time, we painted the right color on the wrong house. Do you want to hear about that?

Bill sat up and leaned across his desk. "You did what? Of course, I want to hear about that. Do tell."

So, I told him about the time a few years back when…well, let me just tell you what happened.

About ten years ago, I did all the sales and all the estimates for the business. I was managing the appointments too, ordering paint and getting it to my crew at the job sites. One morning, and just another day at the office, I called in an order and asked the gentleman at the paint store, Scott, to deliver it to 2710 Blue Sky Drive.

So, I headed out of the office to do an estimate when my phone rang. It was the crew lead, Brian, the foreman from my painting crew.

Hey, Matt, he said, we’re ready to go here, but where’s the paint?

Now the paint should have been delivered, so I asked him to look around.

Nope, no paint. We’ve been here all morning, Matt. We would have seen it.

Okay, I told him, I’ll call the paint store and see what’s going on. Just keep the crew busy there.

There’s nothing left to do, he said. We got the whole place scraped, caulked all the seams and nail holes, masked the windows and the bushes. Even done spraying and brushing primer on the whole place. We’re just waiting for the paint.

I called the paint store and they confirmed the paint was delivered an hour ago. So, I called Brian back.

Hey, Brian, the paint store says they left in on the front porch next to the flowerpot.

There’s no paint on the front porch, he said. There isn’t even a flowerpot.

This wasn’t making sense. I asked Brian if the guys had been drinking that morning or smoking a little of the funny stuff. I mean, how could they not see the paint?

Alright, I’m coming there, I told him, thinking about how if I want something done right, I have to do it myself. On the way over, I called Scott at the paint store and let him have it. This was my business, and I was paying my guys to sit on their butts because there’s no paint. By the time I got to the job site, I was fuming.

The weird thing is that when I pulled up to 2710 Blue Sky Drive, nobody was there. No ladders. No painters. No evidence of any work being done at all. I called Brian again.

Hey, I told him, where are you guys? You’re supposed to be at the house!

Matt, he said, we’re here at 2710 Blue Sky Court. Where are you?

I looked at the house. It was the right house, and I could even see the house number, 2710. Then I looked at the street sign: Blue Sky Drive. This was definitely the right place. Then I realized what Brian just said: 2710 Blue Sky Court.

I had sent my painting crew to the wrong house. And they had just scraped, caulked, masked, and primed the home of a family who never asked us to do so.

After telling Bill how badly I’d messed up, I told him what I did about it: how I waited for the homeowner, whom I had never met, so I could explain why his house was scraped and prepped for a paint project. (That homeowner was furious, by the way.) I told Bill how I had pleaded with him to see past the mistake and let my crew come back later, paint his house for free, and not sue me. I told him about how I dealt with the homeowner of the right house, who wanted to know why his house wasn’t painted that day. And how I called Scott at the paint store to apologize for being such a big, massive jerk that morning.

So, there they were—my two worst stories. I’d painted the right house the wrong color, and I’d almost painted the right color on the wrong house. But as much as I had messed up, I’d taken responsibility and done what I could to make everything right too.

Now it was my turn to lean back. Bill had to sign the contract. I waited for his response. The proposal was still sitting between us, on his desk. My shiny marketing brochure was still on the floor. I had to wait