Let It Snow: What Is Your Inclement Weather Policy?

I'm stranded in Virginia at my parent's house. Weather.com assures me I will be here until Monday at the very least.

I guess if you must be stranded, it might as well be with people you love.

Well, it seems the perfect time to break out an inclement weather post!

Businesses, little league, and other types of groups that require people to gather in order to do something communally usually have some kind of inclement weather policy.



If you were ever involved in the PTA or a church leadership, this set up will not be shocking to you!

Then there are the groups where a single person makes a decision, and everyone else just has to wait and see what it is.

Someone (usually the superintendent of schools) decides which schools will be open on any particular day, and they often let everyone know at about five in the morning. You just go to the website!


Does your artist business have an inclement weather policy?

DLW Storyteller Inc., my company, has one.

We instituted this after a particularly bad year where we lost about six thousand dollars in revenue during one horrifyingly snowy week in February.

Our inclement weather policy dovetails right into our regular policy, so it is neither elaborate, nor needlessly complicated. Here are the steps.

1. A week before a show, the company contacts the venues to confirm times and dates. (this is standard procedure)

2. If there is some sort of inclement weather, a plan is put into place. One of four things could happen.



                a. We will consider the situation as we get a little closer to the date. (This requires a follow up phone call to see if action needs to be taken, or if we plan to attempt the show as scheduled.)

                b. We move the show to another day. (This avoids headaches...unless we run into more weather, and then you just go back to step one.

               c. We roll the dice, and just wait and see. (Sometimes this works, and our optimism is rewarded. Sometimes Mother Nature laughs heartily, and we discover at about five in the morning that the school is closed, and we need to think about another date.)

               d. If the show is cancelled on the day in question, and we have not picked another date because of our rose colored glasses, then we offer the school the next available dates. We usually follow up with them if they don't pick one after about a week, but most venues get back to us within about forty-eight hours.

3. If the venue has trouble finding a date to reschedule, we work to accommodate them even if it means rescheduling for the coming year. Some places decide to cancel the event altogether. Eight years ago we instituted a deposit policy that is non-refundable. If an organization decides not to book the show, that is their prerogative, but we do not offer refunds. The only way a group would see that deposit again is if my company was responsible for the cancelation.

It is very simple, but it makes the snowy season much less stressful. It also makes venues feel better when they know you are thinking about how to make the show work. We also make sure we instigate the contact and the rescheduling so they are not running around after us.

So, there you have it.

As for me, I'm going to curl up here at my mother's house, and have a nice cup of tea with honey.

The school I was supposed to visit this afternoon in North Carolina was closed last night, and probably won't even be open Monday, but that's okay since the show was rescheduled for next Thursday last Wednesday.



Happy Snow Day!

The Business Manager: How Do You Manage The Manager?

I am married to my business manager.  Now, in saying this I do not mean that my business manager and I work together so often, and are in each other's lives so deeply, that my husband says I might as well be married to her or him.  No.  My husband is my business Manager.  I often refer to him as The David.

Here we are in our younger, cooler days

How did he become my manager?   Well, thirteen years ago my husband gave up his job as a social worker in the Duke University Hospitals System, and I gave up my job as the full time homemaker and primary caregiver of our two children.

He came home, and I went back on the road.  Eight months after that, he took up the post of business manager.  I will spare you the bumps and bruises of that transition..it would make a good story, though.

Fast forward to a year after he took up the job.  We turned into a C Corp called DLW Storyteller Inc.
It exists separately from us, and has its own life, which is weird.  On March 1, 2015, we will have been a company for twelve years.

Over the last decade, we had to work to figure out what each of us is responsible for in the business.  We've gotten help from Merle Davis over the years.  I understand Paula Lepp, does her bit, Jim May's daughter was in it up to her ears when I first started in this business, Diane Ferlatte's husband picks up the slack, and Ed Stivender's sister manages his work.

Diane Ferlatte

I can't speak to how any of them manage their managers, but I can tell you how The David and I roll.  There are some hard and fast rules we follow when it comes to who does what.  For instance:

1)  I am not allowed to book anything.  I can't even pretend to promise.

2)  I do not handle travel plans.  I can suggest, but I don't make the arrangements.

3)  I do not meet with the lawyers or accountants by myself.  Ever.

4)  I don't quote prices for anything.  Ever.


One might be tempted to ask why there are such strict rules about what the artist isn't allowed to do.  Simple, when control freaks work together, they do not do a good job controlling the same things.

When The David became my manager, I'd already been in this business for fourteen years.  I was used to doing everything a very specific way.  David doesn't think, behave, organize or consider things the same way I do.  Our first year was one fight after another until I finally let him manage the business part of the business.  This was a very hard thing to do.

Saw a bunch of these pithy sayings about letting go.  Chose one at random.  They all apply.

There were many up sides to giving up control of the day to day operations.  I no longer have to worry about lots of time consuming details.

The David:


1) Takes care of targeting, distributing, and managing all of the PR

2)  Books all of the shows and fields all of the phone calls from clients

3)  Works out fees for block booking and sends out the contracts

4)  Responds to the emails

5)  Mails out the education packets

6)  Deals with people who think they want a storyteller when what they need is a magician or other type of performer

7) Consults with people who are putting festivals together for the first time, or who are new to the world of PTA cultural arts representation

8) Works with our accountant

9)  Arranges studio time for recordings

10) Cuts checks for everyone

11)  Manages accounts for the business

12) Does the taxes

13)  Works out where I'm going to be in the world and when

14)  Organizes the number and type of charitable events we do every year

15)  Makes us look good

16) Tracks deadlines for conference submissions, and proposals

Heavens, you might ask, if he is doing all of that, what on earth are you doing?

Me?  I get to be an artist.

1)  I write the PR copy, in fact, I usually write the base for all of the copy that comes out of the company

2)  I write stories

3) I read tons of material both fiction and non-fiction

4) I manage our social media presence

5)  I write non-fiction articles for books, magazines, and blogs

6)  I create workshops, write up their descriptions, create blurbs for them, and teach them

7)  I learn new stories

8)  I go to conferences where I take classes, and do the whole Networking thing

9)  I teach at conferences

10) I keynote conferences, and various other events

11)  I mentor new tellers and confer with colleagues

12)  I write this blog

13) I travel all over the world

14) I do author appearances

15)  Every now and then I show up in Unitarian pulpits

16)  I tell stories


This morning as I was getting into the shower, I was lamenting that Thursdays are my non-fiction day.  I spend the morning creating copy for things.  It is not my favorite way to spend the day.  I prefer fiction or picture books or reading or well, most of the other elements of my job.  The David scoffed at my complaint.

"Oh, poor baby."  He mocked.  "One day of the week where you have to write stuff that isn't fun.  Awww!"  He made a dramatic sigh.  "I've got to go upstairs and write out eight contracts, work on the taxes, and book four hotels.  So, go sit down and commune with your blog while I do the parts of your job that you hate."

I looked at him while wearing my shower cap and nothing else, "My job?"  I replied in melodramatic shock.  "That's your job, buddy."

So, that is the way I describe dealing with a business manager.  

The David describes his job differently:

"The hours are awful, the pay is terrible, and my boss sexually harasses me on the job."

And now all the world knows working with me is hell.

(Originally, I was going to put a pic of a woman in leather with a whip right here, but I just googled those images, and I'm pretty sure I'm not old enough to be seeing material like that, so I chose a lovely picture from Dante's Inferno instead)

For the record, I did enjoy writing the last part.

Happy Working!