A yearbook for the part
that happens after.
The Guestbook is your Monday morning, kept. Everybody signs in at the door, and the room becomes a page of faces you can still scroll on Wednesday when you remember the conversation and not the name.
You meet somebody at nine in the morning, you talk for four minutes, they take your card, and by Tuesday you can picture them perfectly and you have no idea what they are called. A list of names does not help with that. A page of faces does.
Find the face, and you have their number, their email and the thing they are looking for, right there.
- A page of everybody who was in the room this morning. Portrait, business, number, email, and the line about who they want sent to them.
- They shout each other out. You worked with somebody in the room and they were good, so you say so on their page in your own words, with your name and your business on it. Everybody who opens that page reads it.
- A private follow-up list. One tap puts somebody on it with their number, nobody else can see it, and it is the answer to a card in the console and a name you cannot remember by Wednesday.
- Every past Monday kept as its own page, so the person somebody described and could not name is still findable in November.
- A way to chip in for the coffee, for the room, or for Patricia Chunn at Willow Tree Events.
- Your roster, with contact details, exportable to a spreadsheet any time you ask for it.
- This morning’s count, who is in the room, and who you have not seen in a couple of weeks.
- The Monday post written for you, with every person who signed in and their ask already in it, ready to paste under your group photo.
- One clean way to thank whoever brought the coffee, on the door and on that morning’s page.
- Nothing to administer. Members set their own passwords and reset them themselves, and anything that gets stuck comes to me, so the only thing you run is the meeting.
Members scan the code on their own phone the first Monday, take their portrait, and pick their own password while they are there. Their phone stays signed in after that, so every Monday after the first one is a single tap at the door.
The book sits behind that sign-in.Your members’ names, numbers and emails are not on the open internet for anybody who happens across the address, and they are not in a search engine. Somebody has to be in your room to see your room.
If a member forgets her password or turns up with a new phone, she puts in her email and sets a new one herself in about a minute. Nobody has to come find you at nine in the morning while you are trying to start a meeting.
Murfreesboro In Motion is free, so the book is free. There is no monthly, no setup fee, and no per-member anything. It costs the group nothing and it always will.
| What you pay me | NothingSetup, your branding built into it, hosting, member account help, and the changes you ask for. All of it. |
|---|---|
| What members pay | NothingThey sign in, they use the book, and nobody is ever asked for a card. |
| The coffee | YoursSomebody buys it most Mondays already. They claim a Monday in the book, the room sees who it was, and they bring whatever it costs them. No price, no processing, nothing through my hands. |
The honest reason it is free: the software this runs on is already paid for, so carrying your room costs me nothing. Having my work in front of thirty business owners every Monday morning is worth more to me than sending you an invoice for it.
- One
You say go
I point it at your own web address, put your badge and your colors through it, and load the roster from whatever list you already keep.
- Two
One Monday of portraits
A card on each table with the code on it. Everybody signs in on their own phone and takes their portrait right there, once. I am in the room that morning so nobody has to figure anything out.
- Three
The book is live that afternoon
Everyone who signed in is in it, with their face, their number and what they are looking for. The shout outs start the same week, because somebody in that room has already worked with somebody else in it.
- Four
It just runs
Every Monday builds another page. Nothing to set up again and nothing for you to administer.
- Any money is yours. Whatever comes in around the coffee goes to Murfreesboro In Motion. It never passes through my hands on the way to you, and I take no part of it.
- Your information is yours. Everything the room puts in belongs to Murfreesboro In Motion, and I will export all of it to a spreadsheet for you at any time, on request.
- I will not market to your room. Your members are yours. I do not email them, add them to a list, or sell to them off the back of this.
- I built it and I own it. The Guestbook is my software, and this gives Murfreesboro In Motion the right to use it for as long as it is useful to you. It does not transfer the software itself.
- Either of us can stop. Thirty days in writing, and your data comes with you on the way out.
- Portraits belong to the people in them. Anybody can retake theirs or take it down, any time, and it comes out of the book everywhere.
- The venue button needs a yes. The chip-in that goes to Patricia Chunn points at her own account and never touches yours, and it only goes in once she has said she wants it.
- A line reading “Built by She Thrives Software Consulting” stays in the footer.
Amanda,
I have sat in your room on a Monday morning, and the thing I keep coming back to is how much good gets passed across it in an hour. Somebody says the exact name another person needed, it lands, and then the morning is over and everybody drives off.
This is a book for the part that happens after. Everyone signs in at the door, the room becomes a page of faces, and the person you were talking to is still right there on Wednesday when you finally have a minute to call them.
It costs you nothing and I would like it to stay that way. It is your room, your roster, and your name on it. If it ever stops being useful, you say the word and I hand you every bit of it on the way out.
Kate