Unsubscribe? Don’t go!

This past week I’ve been creating e-mail list for both Camp-Run-A-Pup and Deer Antlers for Pups. I’ve never created e-mail lists for either business because I don’t send mass e-mails. If I have something to say, I e-mail the person directly. But recently I had something very important to say and it wasn’t possible to send everyone a personal e-mail, so I carefully crafted the lists, making sure I knew each and every person on it and evaluated if the information I was sending would be of value to that person. Every person, you ask? Yes. Camp-Run-A-Pup is easy; of course I know everyone who brings a pup to me…but Deer Antlers was a little trickier. Strangely enough, though, I remembered most of the people on the 500-person-plus list; people fell into the “nice” category, “amusing” category, and you know a few more. Once the lists were checked and checked again, I decided to use MailChimp (a reputable, free for me, e-mail service) to create the e-mails and send them out.

OK, we’ve just moved through Ohio.*

Little-known fact about me: I have one e-mail account, share it liberally, and clear it out almost every day and always by the end of week. I very quickly process over 75 e-mails a day. I use my Gmail filters to automatically delete unwanted e-mails, and until now I have unsubscribed liberally. And because I want you to be really impressed, I’ll tell you that I handle text messages and Facebook messaging with the same aplomb. If your survival or a million dollars depended on managing e-mail, you would want me on your team. We would win.

Maybe we are just on the outskirts of Ohio.*

I used to unsubscribe to e-mails and scoff at those forms that insist you share why you are leaving, begging you not to go…and then I would heartlessly hit the “gone” button without a backwards glance. I used to, but not anymore.

My MailChimp e-mail campaign for Camp Run-A-Pup went out without a hitch. Ninety percent of the Camp Run-A-Pup e-mails were opened, and I had several people e-mail me back, thanking me for sending it—and this was the campaign I had worked on while guzzling strawberry daiquiris . Everyone liked me, they really liked me.

The Deer Antler e-mail campaign, according to MailChimp’s reports and stats, was also very successful, but three people hated me and unsubscribed. Two said they hadn’t asked to be on my list, and one claimed to be uninterested. I was crushed. How could anyone so coldly unsubscribe me? I thought we were Deer Antler friends. I sent my now former subscribers a personal e-mail expressing my sorrow and apologizing profusely for interrupting his or her life with my e-mail. I stopped just short of typing, “DON’T LEAVE ME.” In all three cases, I made the person feel so bad each wrote back and said he or she had a knee-jerk response, apologized, and told me I could write back about anything, anytime, forevermore. Even the person who no longer had a dog said he would love to continue hearing from me. Sigh of relief.

Going forward, I don’t think I’ll be able to unsubscribe to e-mails with the same cold heart. (I am not talking to you, Sherry Berries; I meant it when I said that if you sent me one more e-mail I was going to spread the rumor that you were sleeping with the top GMO guy at Monsanto.) Instead I think that I’ll just let my e-mail filter gently delete them for me. Being unsubscribed has made me realize the need to be a kinder and gentler ninja e-mail processor.

I’m pretty sure this is was my first and last venture into e-mail campaigns. I can’t take the stress of being unsubscribed from. It’s just too awful.

Any e-mail stories you care to share?

Cheers,

ox

Odd Loves Company,

*If you are new to Odd, you may not understand this reference. It refers to a  lengthy, highly scientific, well-funded study conducted by me, my sweet mother and a few others, who have determined that people from Ohio are blessed with the gift of being able to talk longer without ever reaching a point (any point)  than people from any other state, country or planet. And we love them dearly for it.