Introduction

I never thought I would be in sales.

Growing up, I didn't know anyone who aspired to become a "salesperson." Culturally, as a first-generation Chinese-American, I was under the impression that sales was the white-collar job you took only if you couldn't find any other. This belief was reinforced when I took my first official sales gig during a summer break in college. Prior to that summer, my only work experience had been in a material science lab researching electro-conducting polymers. It seemed like a good idea to take on a part-time job doing something different to see what other options were out there, and to supplement my research stipend. Coincidently, right before break, I received an unsolicited letter from Vector Marketing inviting me to interview for their summer work program. The letter mentioned the company had been established in 1981, and they were expanding. Then I read the magic words: base salary $17.00 per hour. At the time, minimum wage was just $5.15.

I'd never heard of Vector Marketing, and it wasn't clear what the job was all about, but I decided to show up for my interview anyway. After a long wait in the lobby with several other candidates, and a rather unexceptional interview, I was offered the position on the spot. I envisioned on-the-job learning, market research, and working on a team, so I was surprised when I finally learned what the job actually entailed-selling Cutco kitchen knives.

Feeling somewhat tricked, but also intrigued by the high compensation, I decided to give it a go. I accepted the offer, received my sample knife set, and attended training. I learned the standard sales pitch, which included showcasing the most popular knives and cutting a penny into a swan using Cutco's powerful scissors. After training, I was sent on a sales ride-along with a more seasoned Cutco rep. He made the role look easy. He sold a knife set at two of the three appointments we went to. Then I was tasked to go off on my own.

I failed miserably. I gave the presentation to my immediate family, relatives, friends' parents, and anyone else who would listen to me, cutting penny after penny into beautiful swans, but I could not make a sale. (I might have been better off trying to sell those swans for a nickel). Finally, my uncle took pity on me and bought a set of knives, but he sheepishly called me to return them later that day once my aunt heard about it.

Throughout this process, I felt uncomfortable pushing for the sale or even asking for referrals. I blamed my poor performance on the high cost of those knives, and I griped that Chinese immigrant families do not use seven different kitchen knives-we only use cleavers. All I salvaged from the job was my sample knife set, which still sits on my parents' kitchen counter. However, I keep the swan-cutting scissors on the desk in my office as a reminder that quality products do not sell themselves. (They also happen to come in handy for opening those annoying hard plastic packages.)

This entire experience validated what I already knew: Sales was not for me. Later in my career, after I'd realized this was entirely untrue, I began to recognize this same distaste for sales from many of my professional services clients. I've heard a junior principal at a top management consulting firm say, "I'm not a sales guy. I know my strengths, and I'm focusing on what I do best." Ultimately, he moved into a non-client facing role, which felt more comfortable to him, but ended up limiting his advancement within his firm. An investment banker at a top-tier firm once told me he was leaving to go where his skills were appreciated, but only after he wasn't nominated for Managing Director because of his limited success in sourcing business. And then there was the senior manager at a Big Four accounting firm who said, "They deferred me for partnership this year because my business case wasn't strong enough." Without bringing in new clients, partnership was out of reach for her.

Delivering and Selling

If these sentiments sound familiar to you, you're not alone. Like countless others, you may have found yourself at a crossroads in your career. You know you are good at what you do, and you take pride in your work, but you've realized that your technical expertise alone won't help you get ahead. Like most professionals, there is a good chance you have spent your career focused on developing your expertise and delivering work to your clients. If you are a lawyer, you draft documents or analyze cases, spending most of your time on billable work. As a portfolio manager, you listen to earnings calls and read quarterly filings to find strong investments for your clients. And as a management consultant, you scrutinize your client's processes and present them with more profitable strategies (whether they listen to you and follow through or not is another story).

As you aspire to the top of your firm, it will quickly become clear that simply delivering the technical work is not enough. If you look closely at your firm's most successful leaders, they likely spend much of their time building relationships and bringing in business. But they do more than just occasionally or randomly sell their skills and expertise or their company's services-they make it rain.

By definition, rainmakers sell more than the average professional. They are consistently the top revenue generators for their firm, despite the economy, a worldwide pandemic, or fierce competition. Rainmakers are made, not born, and they only get to their level of success by first crossing the chasm from delivering their work to delivering and selling their work.

The shift from delivering the work to delivering and selling the work can often be intimidating, not to mention frustrating. People going through this experience resist this change and often ask, "Why do I need to do that? That's not the job I signed up for," or argue, "A good product or service sells itself." Another line you may have heard: "I didn't become a [insert profession] so that I could knock on doors." These protests mask the real reason for the frustration-doubt and insecurity about one's ability to sell. It also doesn't help that most people are not taught how to sell.

If you are an introvert by nature, or if building relationships is just not your forte, you may struggle to imagine yourself ever becoming a rainmaker. The leap from delivering the work to selling the work might even appear overly risky and unachievable. Even for those who have bridged that divide, they may still see business development as a never-ending, unpleasant, yet necessary activity they must engage in as the price for doing what they "really" enjoy, the substantive work.

Many technical experts see selling as a deviation from their "real" work. In reality, it's not a deviation but an evolution. The goal here is not to become a professional salesperson but rather a professional who can sell. That means uncovering engagement opportunities and instilling confidence in your prospective clients to win those opportunities. Continued success depends partly on your technical expertise, of course, but ultimately, it boils down to adopting the mindset, mastering the strategies, and employing the tactics that are at the heart of successful rainmaking.

Throughout this book, I walk you through these three components, highlighting practical insights and actionable advice to help you successfully build and sustainably cultivate a strong book of business. Everything you read here is backed by research, empirical evidence, and first-hand interviews and experience.

What It Means to Sell

At Exec|Comm, a global skills-based training consultancy, my colleagues and I are often engaged to work with professionals who have tremendous subject-matter expertise. We help them broaden the contributions they make to their organizations by sharpening their business development and communication skills. During these engagements, we regularly find that many technically gifted professionals have an inaccurate understanding of what it means to sell.

For example, when we ask mid-level investment bankers how we might help them build more business, they regularly say something along the lines of, "I have a meeting coming up with an executive at a Fortune 100 company. They are only meeting with me because they are a friend of my managing director. How can I connect with this person so that it is not just a courtesy call?" Another typical response we hear includes something like, "When I'm meeting with someone I know socially, how do I transition to talking about work? I know they're in a position to hire my firm, but I don't want to jeopardize our friendship." These professionals assume that selling is all about networking effectively, building rapport, and entertaining clients. Although these activities can certainly play a part, there is much more to selling than schmoozing.

Exec|Comm's philosophy is that success comes from focusing less on yourself and more on others. When applied to selling your expertise, this means thinking of selling not as pitching your services, but as making a promise, a promise to solve people's problems and help them reach their goals. Unlike when you sell products, where the promise is immediately fulfilled, short-term success when selling your expertise comes from inspiring confidence that...