Veja Sneakers with a Conscience Essay Example

Veja Sneakers with a Conscience Essay Example Veja Sneakers with a Conscience Paper Veja Sneakers with a Conscience Paper I. Background Morillion and Kopp founded Veja, an eco-sneaker company to serve the ethical fashion industry. This case focuses on the development of sustainable business practices in organic cotton, natural rubber and leather. Veja shows that they can create a product that is both appealing and conscientious. The company grew rapidly due to praise from the media and word of mouth. What leads to their success is the fact that they can integrate sustainable practices into a holistic and ever improving offering, which engages multiple supply chain participants (employees, consumers, suppliers, partners, even artists) in co-devising a value proposition that appeals not just to our sense of fashion, but also to our conscience. II. Challenges and Opportunities Veja encountered challenges due to their small-scale operation at first and the inherent fierce competition from big players in the market. Customers expect ethical products in the first place, so having eco-shoes in Veja’s production line may raise unnecessary costs. Since Veja does not spend on advertising, they may not be able to get the message to the customers that their stores are different from everyone else. In addition, supply for organic materials such as cotton and rubber are limited, which may hinder Veja’s future growth and interrupt their supply chain should adverse weather affect their sources. However, being the few players in the ethical fashion industry, Veja enjoy their first-mover advantage of selecting the finest suppliers. Also, Veja entered the market at the right time because this niche market is growing at a fast rate. Customers are also embracing the green lifestyle and being more aware of ethical fashion. In addition, the corporate culture at Veja allows the employees to be happy, which in turn contribute to the success of the company. III. Veja’s business model vs. conventional model Veja’s business model resembles that of a small business with an entrepreneurial spirit. Since the company started very small, Veja founders were able to control every aspect of their business. The founders knew very little about the fashion industry, aside from the fact that both of them are sneaker addicts. The difference in Veja’s model is that the company learns by doing and making mistakes and willing to take some risks. Veja’s distribution is also different. Instead of having their own store or section for display, the company decided to place their products next to non-ethical brands. This may lead to consumers thinking that their products are just the same as the other name brands. However, this model works for them because Veja’s products are appealing to the mass and the fact that the products were placed in trendy avenues increased their appeals. Veja’s corporate culture is also different from that of conventional model. The company treats the employees well, allowing them lots of freedom and flexibility, paying higher wages than most fashion companies. Veja also encourage work-life balance which show they care for the employees’ happiness. As a result, Veja was able to keep a lot of the original talents. The founders created a supply chain that was based on sustainable relationships. Whereas the fashion industry was accustomed to contracting new parties as soon as a factory could deliver on time or cut costs, Veja tried to improve living conditions and to work cooperatively with supply chain to jointly develop the best product they could imagine. Veja bought raw materials directly from producers. The company paid a fixed price, which, though higher than the market price, was calculated by the farmers. This allowed the farmers to have a higher standard of living. Veja also works solely with cotton and rubber families to produce organic materials. Doing so not only help preserve the Amazon rainforest, but also employ the families in the poverty-stricken area of northern Brazil. Also, Veja continues to research ways to make leather sustainable and works in collaboration with specialist in the field to ensure a sustainable product. This type process improvement mentality is rarely seen in the fashion industry. In contrast to conventional business model, Veja employs two distinct strategies: zero ads and zero stock. Since most of the cost of producing a sneaker was dedicated to marketing, Veja was able to save on cost by having a no advertising policy. Veja benefitted widely from media coverage, blogs, and word of mouth due to their eco-friendly products and ethical business line. Also, most outlets had fewer Veja sneakers than they could sell. Veja did not produce extra, only according to orders placed six months in advance. Doing so ramped up Veja’s popularity because their products are now becoming scarce. Veja’s main business goal was not to make money only by having large volumes, but they want profitability with a conscience.

Stephen King Shares His Writing Advice in This Guest Post

Stephen King Shares His Writing Advice in This Guest Post A Guest Blog from Stephen King- Yes, that Stephen King Okay, let’s get a few things straight right from the top: This is going to be a very long post, but I’m not going to apologize for it because: 1- I need to brag about how I know Mr. King; 2- I promise it’ll be content-rich; 3- You’re going to learn Voice merely by osmosis, beyond what he’s teaching overtly; and 4- You’ll be glad you invested the time. So grab your favorite beverage and settle in Though I work the inspirational side of the fiction writing fence and he the horror, we at one time happened to share the services of the same audio reader, the legendary Frank Muller, who remains, even post mortem, the unquestioned creme de la creme of that field. We first met by phone when Stephen called one day to discuss how we might aid Frank’s family after he suffered a motorcycle accident that would eventually take his life. Then Stephen and I met personally in 2004 when we visited Frank in rehab, where he lingered for several years. Stephen and I share a rabid love of baseball (he the Boston Red Sox, I the Chicago Cubs). I have been accused of trying to scare readers out of Hell. Stephen has been accused of trying to scare the hell out of readers. We read each other’s work and respect each other and still keep in touch via email. Writer’s Digest considered us strange enough bedfellows to feature us in a cover story. I will insert myself into Stephen’s blog only occasionally to adjust for the fact that the piece is nearly 30 years old, yet remains poignantly applicable. I expect it to stimulate spirited conversation, however be advised that my team and I will excise any off-topic comments. This is not the place to discuss Stephen’s use of naughty words, or his political, cultural, or religious views. Let’s stick to the subject of fiction writing. I asked if I could share with you sections of his iconic piece from the 1986 issue of The Writer magazine, wherein he promised to tell budding fiction writers everything they needed to know about writing successfully in ten minutes. Much of it has been floating around the Internet ever since, and you may have seen it. He kindly said, â€Å"Feel free to use as much of it as you’d like.† And so, with thanks for that generous offer, here is all of it with a few notes: Need help writing your novel?Click here to download my ultimate 12-step guide. Everything You Need to Know About Writing Successfully- in Ten Minutes By Stephen King I.The First Introduction THAT’S RIGHT. I know it sounds like an ad for some sleazy writers’ school, but I really am going to tell you everything you need to pursue a successful and financially rewarding career writing fiction, and I really am going to do it in ten minutes, which is exactly how long it took me to learn. It will actually take you twenty minutes or so to read this essay, however, because I have to tell you a story, and then I have to write a second introduction. But these, I argue, should not count in the ten minutes. II. The Story, or, How Stephen King Learned to Write When I was a sophomore in high school, I did a sophomoric thing which got me in a pot of fairly hot water, as sophomoric didoes often do. I wrote and published a small satiric newspaper called The Village Vomit. In this little paper I lampooned a number of teachers at Lisbon (Maine) High School, where I was under instruction. These were not very gentle lampoons; they ranged from the scatological to the downright cruel. Eventually, a copy of this little newspaper found its way into the hands of a faculty member, and since I had been unwise enough to put my name on it (a fault, some critics argue, of which I have still not been entirely cured), I was brought into the office. The sophisticated satirist had by that time reverted to what he really was: a fourteen-year-old kid who was shaking in his boots and wondering if he was going to get a suspension- what we called â€Å"a three-day vacation† in those dim days of 1964. I wasn’t suspended. I was forced to make a number of apologies- they were warranted, but they still tasted like dog-dirt in my mouth- and spent a week in detention hall. And the guidance counselor arranged what he no doubt thought of as a more constructive channel for my talents. This was a job- contingent upon the editor’s approval- writing sports for the Lisbon Enterprise, a twelve-page weekly, the sort with which any small-town resident will be familiar. This editor was the man who taught me everything I know about writing in ten minutes. His name was John Gould- not the famed New England humorist or the novelist who wrote The Greenleaf Fires, but a relative of both, I believe. He told me he needed a sports writer and we could â€Å"try each other out† if I wanted. I told him I knew more about advanced algebra than I did sports. Gould nodded and said, â€Å"You’ll learn.† I said I would at least try to learn. Gould gave me a huge roll of yellow paper and promised me a wage of 1/2 ¢ per word. The first two pieces I wrote had to do with a high school basketball game in which a member of my school team broke the Lisbon High scoring record. One of these pieces was straight reportage. The second was a feature article. I brought them to Gould the day after the game, so he’d have them for the paper, which came out Fridays. He read the straight piece, made two minor corrections, and spiked it. Then he started in on the feature piece with a large black pen and taught me all I ever needed to know about my craft. I wish I still had the piece- it deserves to be framed, editorial corrections and all- but I can remember pretty well how it looked before and after he had finished with it. Here’s an example: [Note: King’s original copy showed Mr. Gould’s edit marks.] Last night, in the well-loved gymnasium of Lisbon High School, partisans and Jay Hills fans alike were stunned by an athletic performance unequaled in school history: Bob Ransom, known as â€Å"Bullet† Bob for both his size and accuracy, scored thirty-seven points. He did it with grace and speed and he did it with an odd courtesy as well, committing only two personal fouls in his knight-like quest for a record which has eluded Lisbon thinclads since 1953. [With Mr. Gould’s edits applied.] Last night, in the Lisbon High School gymnasium, partisans and Jay Hills fans alike were stunned by an athletic performance unequaled in school history: Bob Ransom scored thirty-seven points. He did it with grace and speed and he did it with an odd courtesy as well, committing only two personal fouls in his quest for a record which has eluded Lisbon’s basketball team since 1953. When Gould finished marking up my copy in the manner I have indicated above, he looked up and must have seen something on my face. I think he must have thought it was horror, but it was not: it was revelation. â€Å"I only took out the bad parts, you know,† he said. â€Å"Most of it’s pretty good.† â€Å"I know,† I said, meaning both things: yes, most of it was good, and yes, he had only taken out the bad parts. â€Å"I won’t do it again.† â€Å"If that’s true,† he said, â€Å"you’ll never have to work again. You can do this for a living.† Then he threw back his head and laughed. And he was right; I am doing this for a living, and as long as I can keep on, I don’t expect ever to have to work again. III. The Second Introduction All of what follows has been said before. If you are interested enough in writing to be a purchaser of this magazine, you will have either heard or read all (or almost all) of it before. Thousands of writing courses are taught across the United States each year; seminars are convened; guest lecturers talk, then answer questions, then drink as many gin and tonics as their expense-fees will allow, and it all boils down to what follows. I am going to tell you these things again because often people will only listen- really listen- to someone who makes a lot of money doing the thing he’s talking about. This is sad but true. And I told you the story above not to make myself sound like a character out of a Horatio Alger novel but to make a point: I saw, I listened, and I learned. Until that day in John Gould’s little office, I had been writing first drafts of stories which might run 2,500 words. The second drafts were apt to run 3,300 words. Following that day, my 2,500-word first drafts became 2,200-word second drafts. And two years after that, I sold the first one. So here it is, with all the bark stripped off. It’ll take ten minutes to read, and you can apply it right away- if you listen. IV. Everything You Need to Know About Writing Successfully 1. Be talented This, of course, is the killer. What is talent? I can hear someone shouting, and here we are, ready to get into a discussion right up there with â€Å"what is the meaning of life?† for weighty pronouncements and total uselessness. For the purposes of the beginning writer, talent may as well be defined as eventual success- publication and money. If you wrote something for which someone sent you a check, if you cashed the check and it didn’t bounce, and if you then paid the light bill with the money, I consider you talented. Now some of you are really hollering. Some of you are calling me one crass money-fixated creep. And some of you are calling me bad names. Are you calling Harold Robbins talented? someone in one of the Great English Departments of America is screeching. V.C. Andrews? Theodore Dreiser? Or what about you, you dyslexic moron? Nonsense. Worse than nonsense, off the subject. We’re not talking about good or bad here. I’m interested in telling you how to get your stuff published, not in critical judgments of who’s good or bad. As a rule the critical judgments come after the check’s been spent, anyway. I have my own opinions, but most times I keep them to myself. People who are published steadily and are paid for what they are writing may be either saints or trollops, but they are clearly reaching a great many someones who want what they have. Ergo, they are communicating. Ergo, they are talented. The biggest part of writing successfully is being talented, and in the context of marketing, the only bad writer is one who doesn’t get paid. If you’re not talented, you won’t succeed. And if you’re not succeeding, you should know when to quit. When is that? I don’t know. It’s different for each writer. Not after six rejection slips, certainly, nor after sixty. But after six hundred? Maybe. After six thousand? My friend, after six thousand pinks, it’s time you tried painting or computer programming. Further, almost every aspiring writer knows when he is getting warmer- you start getting little jotted notes on your rejection slips, or personal letters . . . maybe a commiserating phone call. It’s lonely out there in the cold, but there are encouraging voices- unless there is nothing in your words which warrants encouragement. I think you owe it to yourself to skip as much of the self-illusion as possible. If your eyes are open, you’ll know which way to go- or when to turn back. 2. Be neat Type. Double-space. Use a nice heavy white paper, never that erasable onion-skin stuff. If you’ve marked up your manuscript a lot, do another draft. [Of course, today Stephen would say to use a large, serif type and transmit only work with which you’re entirely happy, spell checked and properly formatted.] 3. Be self-critical If you haven’t marked up your manuscript a lot [or, today, carefully edited and rewritten it], you did a lazy job. Only God gets things right the first time. Don’t be a slob. 4. Remove every extraneous word You want to get up on a soapbox and preach? Fine. Get one and try your local park. You want to write for money? Get to the point. And if you remove all the excess garbage and discover you can’t find the point, tear up what you wrote and start all over again- or try something new. 5. Never look at a reference book while doing a first draft You want to write a story? Fine. Put away your dictionary, your encyclopedias, your World Almanac, and your thesaurus. Better yet, throw your thesaurus into the wastebasket. The only things creepier than a thesaurus are those little paperbacks college students too lazy to read the assigned novels buy around exam time. Any word you have to hunt for in a thesaurus is the wrong word. There are no exceptions to this rule. You think you might have misspelled a word? O.K., so here is your choice: either look it up in the dictionary, thereby making sure you have it right- and breaking your train of thought and the writer’s trance in the bargain- or just spell it phonetically and correct it later. Why not? Did you think it was going to go somewhere? And if you need to know the largest city in Brazil and you find you don’t have it in your head, why not write in Miami, or Cleveland? You can check it- but later. When you sit down to write, write. Don’t do anything else except go to the bathroom, and only do that if it absolutely cannot be put off. 6. Know the markets Only a dimwit would send a story about giant vampire bats surrounding a high school to McCall’s. Only a dimwit would send a tender story about a mother and daughter making up their differences on Christmas Eve to Playboy- but people do it all the time. I’m not exaggerating; I have seen such stories in the slush piles of the actual magazines. If you write a good story, why send it out in an ignorant fashion? Would you send your kid out in a snowstorm dressed in Bermuda shorts and a tank top? If you like science fiction, read the magazines. If you want to write confession stories, read the magazines. And so on. It isn’t just a matter of knowing what’s right for the present story; you can begin to catch on, after awhile, to overall rhythms, editorial likes and dislikes, a magazine’s entire slant. Sometimes your reading can influence the next story, and create a sale. 7. Write to entertain Does this mean you can’t write â€Å"serious fiction†? It does not. Somewhere along the line pernicious critics have infested the American reading and writing public with the idea that entertaining fiction and serious ideas do not overlap. This would have surprised Charles Dickens, not to mention Jane Austen, John Steinbeck, William Faulkner, Bernard Malamud, and hundreds of others. But your serious ideas must always serve your story, not the other way around. I repeat: if you want to preach, get a soapbox. 8. Ask yourself frequently, â€Å"Am I having fun?† The answer needn’t always be yes. But if it’s always no, it’s time for a new project or a new career. 9. How to evaluate criticism Show your piece to a number of people- ten, let us say. Listen carefully to what they tell you. Smile and nod a lot. Then review what was said very carefully. If your critics are all telling you the same thing about some facet of your story- a plot twist that doesn’t work, a character who rings false, stilted narrative, or half a dozen other possibles- change that facet. It doesn’t matter if you really liked that twist of that character; if a lot of people are telling you something is wrong with your piece, it is. If seven or eight of them are hitting on that same thing, I’d still suggest changing it. But if everyone- or even most everyone- is criticizing something different, you can safely disregard what all of them say. 10. Observe all rules for proper submission Return postage, self-addressed envelope, all of that. [Obviously, this is different today, but the sentiment remains: follow editorial guidelines.] 11. An agent? Forget it. For now. Agents get 10% of monies earned by their clients. [Today 15% is standard.] 10% of nothing is nothing. Agents also have to pay the rent. Beginning writers do not contribute to that or any other necessity of life. Flog your stories around yourself. If you’ve done a novel, send around query letters to publishers, one by one, and follow up with sample chapters and/or the manuscript complete. And remember Stephen King’s First Rule of Writers and Agents, learned by bitter personal experience: You don’t need one until you’re making enough for someone to steal- and if you’re making that much, you’ll be able to take your pick of good agents. 12. If it’s bad, kill it When it comes to people, mercy killing is against the law. When it comes to fiction, it is the law. That’s everything you need to know. And if you listened, you can write everything and anything you want. Now I believe I will wish you a pleasant day and sign off. My ten minutes are up. Isn’t it interesting how much of this writing advice holds up after nearly 30 years? What is your favorite of Stephen’s tips? Need help writing your novel?Click here to download my ultimate 12-step guide.