The Most Common Things People Say When They Learn What I Do

One of the interesting aspects of working in a creative industry; and honestly, in almost any profession, is the misconceptions that come with it.

"Oh, so you're a cameraman."

"He makes commercials."

"He's in graphic design, so you make logos."

"He's our video guy."

The funny thing is that none of those descriptions are entirely wrong. They're just incomplete.

Most people don't really understand what I do, and that's okay. Truthfully, it can be difficult to explain. My work is a mixed bag of skills and services that doesn't fit neatly into a single job title.

I remember when we screened my documentary several years ago. My sister attended the premiere and genuinely had no idea what role I played in making the film. Did I film it? Edit it? Produce it? Write it? Six years later, I think she's still a little bewildered.

The reality is that it's almost impossible to give an elevator pitch for my skill set.

Yes, I know how to use cameras.

Yes, I've made my fair share of commercials. In fact, I did that almost exclusively for six years while working for another company. You can still find some of that work on my website.

Yes, I can design graphics. I can create logos. I can run livestreams.

But it's also so much more than that.

When we try to explain what we do, we naturally simplify it. We want to be concise and get to the point. Unfortunately, that often undersells the breadth of what we actually offer.

If you say you're a photographer, people assume you just take pictures.

If you say you're a graphic designer, they picture brochures and business cards.

If you say you're an animator, people immediately think of Pixar-level productions.

The label rarely tells the whole story.

When I founded my company, I wanted a name that reflected the wide range of services I could provide. My first choice was V2 Media, but that name was already taken, so I landed on Vaupel Video.

Ironically, when I started the business, my plan was fairly narrow. I wanted to provide editing services for larger companies that had more work than they could handle internally. For the first couple of years, that worked wonderfully.

Then COVID arrived.

Suddenly, nobody had extra work to outsource.

Thanks to some great friends, a handful of recommendations, and a little persistence, I found myself back in business. The difference was that I wasn't just editing anymore. I was handling entire projects from start to finish.

Scripting.

Producing.

Planning.

Filming.

Graphics.

Animation.

Problem solving.

Client communication.

All of it.

At times it was thrilling. At times it was overwhelming. Occasionally it was downright maddening.

But for the first time, I felt completely at home.

I discovered that what I really loved wasn't any single task. I loved being the person with the answers. I loved finding solutions. I loved taking an idea that existed only in someone's head and helping bring it to life.

That's why some of my favorite moments happen when a client says, "This is so much more than I imagined," or "You made this out of what I gave you?"

Those comments never get old.

No matter the project size or budget, I always try to deliver something beyond what we originally discussed. Part of that comes from wanting everything I produce to look incredible. The perfectionist tendencies may just be part of being a Virgo.

But more importantly, I want my clients to feel proud of the final product.

I want them to be excited to share it.

I want it to represent their organization, their business, their story, or their mission in the best way possible.

So if someone asks what I do, the simplest answer is that I create videos.

The more accurate answer is that I help people tell their stories.

The camera is just one of the tools.

I'd love to hear from you. What industry do you work in, and what are some of the misconceptions people have about what you actually do?

When a Client Leaves

I've been on the fence about writing about this topic. However, I know a few people in our industry read these posts, and if it helps someone navigate a difficult moment in their career, it's worth sharing.

What do you do when a client ends your working relationship?

Trust me, it will happen.

If you've been freelancing, consulting, or running a business long enough, sooner or later you'll receive a phone call or email that begins with some version of, "We've decided to go in a different direction."

Hopefully, it isn't because of something that damaged the relationship—a missed deadline, poor communication, or an unfortunate interaction. Most of the time, it's nobody's fault at all.

Companies change priorities. They hire someone internally. Leadership changes. Marketing directors move on. New decision-makers bring in people they've worked with before. All of those things happen every day.

I try to share personal stories in these posts because if I'm going to write about a topic, I should be willing to talk about how I've experienced it myself.

Very early after founding my company, a friend called and asked me to help with a project. The videographer who had filmed a series of videos for her client had unexpectedly backed out of the editing process, and the client was expecting finished videos within days.

Fortunately, I had some availability and was able to step in.

The client loved the work. At the end of the project, I sent the standard message we all send:

"If there's ever anything I can help you with in the future, please let me know."

A few weeks later, their marketing director reached out and asked if we could discuss another project. I was excited. What they wanted, however, wasn't what I expected.

They needed graphic design support.

At the time, I knew enough graphic design to get by. I wasn't an expert, but I was confident I could deliver what they needed. Then came the surprising part: they wanted to hire me on a yearly retainer.

For those unfamiliar with retainers, it's a simple arrangement. The client pays a set amount each month in exchange for reserving a certain amount of your time. In my case, they reserved twenty hours each month for their design needs.

For a young business owner, it felt incredible.

I knew I had dependable monthly revenue. There were even months when they didn't use all of their allotted hours, yet the payment still arrived. The consistency provided stability during a period when every invoice mattered.

Even better, they were wonderful people to work with.

The marketing director was organized, professional, and incredibly detailed. Most of the time, her project briefs answered every question before I could ask it.

After the first year, they renewed the agreement. Then, halfway through the second year, they asked if I would also be interested in handling video production work under a similar arrangement.

I couldn't believe it.

Just two years into self-employment, I was supporting a major company with both design and video production. It felt like one of those moments that validates all the risks you've taken.

Then November arrived.

The marketing director called and told me she had accepted a position with another company.

She invited me to meet with her supervisor before she left. Her hope was that an introduction might help continue our relationship after her departure.

The gesture was incredibly thoughtful.

Unfortunately, the meeting didn't go particularly well. Nobody was rude. Nobody was hostile. It simply felt clear that the decision would ultimately belong to whoever stepped into the role next.

A short time later, I received the call.

"We've decided to go with a different vendor. Thank you for everything you've done."

If you're wondering what happened, the answer is simple.

The new marketing director brought in a vendor they had worked with previously.

And honestly, I understand it.

People like working with people they trust. Loyalty matters. If I were in their shoes, I might have made the same decision.

That understanding doesn't make it hurt any less.

Losing a client means losing revenue. It means losing a relationship you've invested in. Sometimes it can leave you scrambling to fill a gap in your schedule.

So what do you do?

First, don't act immaturely.

I thanked them for the opportunity. I told them how much I enjoyed supporting their work. I let them know I would always be available if they needed help in the future.

There is no value in being rude, bitter, or unprofessional.

You never know when a door might reopen. More importantly, you never know who knows whom.

Burning bridges can be career suicide.

The overwhelming majority of my work comes from referrals. I am fortunate to have clients who recommend me to others, and the reason I'm still in business nearly a decade later is because of those relationships.

In fact, some of my strongest advocates are people I no longer work with regularly.

That means a lot to me.

Even this week, a former client recommended me for a project I'll be working on next month.

That's the lesson.

A client ending a contract doesn't have to mean the relationship is over.

Sometimes people leave organizations. Sometimes budgets change. Sometimes another vendor gets the work. Those things are part of doing business.

What remains is your reputation.

Protect it.

Losing a client can sting for a lot of reasons. Allow yourself a moment to feel the disappointment. Then get back to work.

Tomorrow the sun will rise, and you have no idea what the tide will bring in.

I'd love to take credit for that line, but I borrowed it from the movie Cast Away.