The microphone was slick with sweat in my hand. The bride’s uncle was drunk and making a beeline for the stage, clearly intending to give an unscheduled speech. I had 300 restless guests, a nervous couple, and a wedding planner who was on the verge of a meltdown.
My job was to hold it all together.
When I was 19 or 20, I worked as a Master of Ceremonies—an intern gig to help pay my way through school. That night, I wasn’t just an MC; I was learning the single most important and most misunderstood skill in business: marketing.
The Myth: A Great Product Sells Itself
For years, I believed that if you just created a great product, customers would magically show up. It’s a comforting thought. It’s also a complete lie.
That night, the “product” was the wedding reception. And honestly? It was just average. The band was a little flat, the food was getting cold, and the energy in the room was fading fast. As an entrepreneur, this is the situation you will inevitably face: you have a product, but nobody is buying it.
I realized my job wasn’t just to announce things. My job was to sell the experience.
The Real Lessons I Learned on Stage
Here’s how I discovered three core lessons that every entrepreneur can apply:
Lesson 1: You’re Selling the Story, Not Just the Product
When it was time for the cake cutting, I could’ve said, “And now, the bride and groom will cut the cake.” The result? A few people would politely clap, while most would stay at the bar.
Instead, I took a different approach. I asked the DJ to play a soft, upbeat song. I dimmed the lights. I grabbed the mic and said, “Folks, in a moment, we’re about to witness the first official act this couple will perform as husband and wife. It’s sweet, it’s a little messy, and it’s a memory they will cherish forever. Let’s give them our full attention for the cutting of the cake!”
Suddenly, it wasn’t just a boring tradition. It was an event. People turned their chairs. They took out their phones. I hadn’t changed the product (the cake), but I had marketed the moment. Entrepreneurs do this every day. They don’t just sell a product; they promote the story and the feeling behind it.
Lesson 2: You’re Selling an Emotion, Not a Feature
Later, it was time for the first dance. The band was ready to play. The “feature” was a man and a woman dancing. Boring.
So I sold the emotion. I invited the guests to stand and form a circle around the dance floor. “Let’s surround this couple with all the love and support in this room as they share their first dance,” I announced.
The guests created an intimate, beautiful circle. The couple danced, not on a lonely stage, but in the center of their community. The emotion in the room was electric. I hadn’t changed the dance; I had changed the experience. This is marketing. It’s not about what your product does; it’s about how it makes your customer feel.
Lesson 3: The Hardest Sale is Creating a Market from Nothing
The biggest challenge of the night was the empty dance floor. The music was playing, but everyone was glued to their seats. This is the ultimate entrepreneurial nightmare: you’ve launched, and nobody shows up.
The old me would have just kept begging over the mic: “Come on, everyone, let’s dance!” It never works.
Instead, I got off the stage. I walked over to the bride’s cheerful aunt, grabbed her hand, and pulled her onto the floor. Then I grabbed the groom’s cousin. We were a ridiculous group of three, dancing awkwardly by ourselves. People laughed. A few more joined in to save us. Then a few more. Within five minutes, the dance floor was packed.
I didn’t just invite people to a party; I started the party. This is the essence of marketing. Sometimes, you can’t wait for demand. You have to create it.
The Marketing Lesson I Still Use Every Single Day
That night, I walked away with a check in my pocket, but the real payment was the lesson I learned: a good product is the entry fee, but good marketing is what wins the game.
Today, when I market my books at Wardoh Books, I still use the lessons I learned on that chaotic wedding dance floor. I don’t just sell a book; I sell the story behind it. I don’t just list its features; I sell the feeling it will give the reader. And I don’t wait for readers to find me; I go out and start the conversation.
If you’re a talented producer, coder, or artist, that’s fantastic. But remember: great work alone doesn’t sell itself. It won’t.
So remember: be your own MC. Be your own promoter. Don’t just hope for your great work to be noticed—go out, market it, and create excitement around it. That is the essential skill every entrepreneur needs: understanding that good marketing turns an ordinary product into an unforgettable experience.
