The Blank Spreadsheet: My Hunt for the First 100 Emails in Lucknow
The idea was solid, the product was taking shape, and the ambition was buzzing in my veins. I was ready to dive into the world of product marketing. I'd read all the blogs and listened to the podcasts. They all agreed on one thing: the money is in the list. The email list, that is.
So, I did what any aspiring marketer would do. I signed up for an email marketing service, chose a sleek template, and drafted what I thought was the perfect introductory email. I was ready. I clicked over to the "Contacts" tab, ready to import my audience, and was met with a stark, humbling reality: a blank white screen. A spreadsheet with zero rows.
I had the message, but no one to send it to.
My first instincts were... well, not great. "I'll just find emails online," I thought. I spent a few hours scraping websites of local businesses, feeling more like a spy than a marketer. The list I compiled felt cold and impersonal. These weren't leads; they were just random addresses. Sending my carefully crafted email to them felt like throwing a bottle into the ocean. It was spam, and I knew it wouldn't work.
Discouraged, I shut my laptop and decided to take a walk to clear my head. I ended up in Hazratganj, the bustling heart of Lucknow. I watched as shoppers drifted in and out of stores, as cafe owners chatted with regulars, and as vendors skillfully managed the evening rush.
These were the people I wanted to reach. Not as abstract entries in a database, but as individuals running businesses, with real challenges and goals.
That's when the real idea struck me. Marketing isn't about finding clever ways to interrupt people. It's about starting conversations and offering value. What could I offer that was of immediate value?
I spent that evening creating a simple, one-page PDF guide: "Five Free Digital Tools Every Lucknow Business Should Be Using." It was simple, actionable, and tailored specifically to the local businesses I had just been observing.
The next morning, armed with my guide (and a lot of nervous energy), I started my real data collection. I didn't go to a hundred places. I picked ten promising-looking cafes and boutiques in my neighborhood. I'd walk in, buy a coffee or a small item, and then ask to speak to the manager or owner.
My pitch was honest and direct. "Hi, my name is [Your Name], and I'm a local entrepreneur working on a new tool to help businesses here in Lucknow. I'm not here to sell you anything today, but I've put together a free guide on some digital tools that you might find helpful. If you're interested, I'd be happy to email it over to you."
The first two people politely declined. The third said yes.
That first "yes" was a game-changer. He didn't just give me his email; he asked me about my product. We had a five-minute conversation. It was my first real piece of customer feedback.
Over the next two weeks, I refined my process. I visited co-working spaces, attended a local business meetup, and talked to dozens of entrepreneurs. Some said no, but many said yes. Each email I collected was attached to a face, a name, and a story. My blank spreadsheet slowly began to fill, not with data, but with potential relationships.
After two weeks, I had a list of 114 emails.
It wasn't a massive list by industry standards, but it was a start. More importantly, it was my list. It was clean, it was engaged, and it was built on genuine, face-to-face interactions. I hadn't just collected data; I had laid the foundation for a community.
When I finally sent out my first email campaign, the open rate was over 60%. Because people weren't opening an email from a stranger; they were opening an email from the guy who'd shared a coffee with them and offered a helping hand. And that's a lesson no marketing blog could have ever taught me.