How to Do Everything Better: Businessweek’s Expert

Most people think the only way to make money on TikTok is through deals with brands. But that's not true—it's not even the easiest way. It took me a while to build the kind of following that lets me charge what I charge. For example, you could give your videos some type of catchphrase. Maybe you’re always saying, "It's food time!" in skits or in your tutorials. Then you can sell merchandise with the catchphrase on it.

Whatever you’re selling, make sure you’re making videos of you creating the product. Use songs that are trending. Music is the best way for your video to get traction. Get some microinfluencers to use your product and have them make a video that's authentic, like, "Hey, guys, I was looking through the internet, and I saw this, and I had to buy it—here's how I used it to decorate my room." Nobody's going to know it's an ad, because these guys don't have many followers. You can pay them or give them stuff for free.

If you don't have your own product to sell, you could try affiliate links, which give you a kickback for posting about something. This guy recently posted this cool video of a microscope thing that goes in your ear and sees your earwax and put the link to buy it in his bio. Anytime someone clicks to purchase it, he gets money. Whatever you do, put links in your bio. —As told to Sarah Frier

I’ve always loved planners. I’d posted a picture of my calendar on Instagram—I’d made some stickers that popped. People said, "You should sell those." That day, I started an Etsy shop. In six months, I left my job at IBM to do Etsy full time. I have an accounting degree and an MBA. My dad was like, "You’re foolish."

The sticker industry has blown up. We make everything ourselves. There are stickers for things like a doctor's appointment that’ll just say doctor, or it's a stethoscope. There are stickers to make your planner look cute for birthdays, paydays. Others are for therapy or women tracking their cycles.

Some of the bestselling ones last year were the quarantine trackers. We started with one sheet marking days 1 to 50. The stickers said quarantine day #1, #2, etc. We ended up going to day 460. There was also a "quarantini" sticker of a martini glass to mark another solo happy hour.

People had more time for it last year, so that might have played into our growth. The comfort of being able to track things and keep normalcy in our lives helped. I had customers thank us for bringing joy to their lives. We have such a strong community of planner people. —As told to Jordyn Holman

I trained a lot of Miami's hottest moms, like Karlie Kloss and sports agent Drew Rosenhaus's wife [Lisa Thompson]. But when the pandemic hit, I couldn't do classes in public. I’d been teaching for eight hours a day, charging up to $80 a class. At first I started streaming on Instagram Live, doing classes for free. Then Beyoncé mentioned OnlyFans in a song, so I decided to check it out.

I never miss a day. Consistency is key. If Christmas falls on a Wednesday, we’re working out on Christmas. When you become a part of their day, they get hooked. I post the video every day at the same time, and now the girls are waiting for it.

There are months when the business doesn't grow. When that happens, I make a challenge. The person who lost the most weight gets $200. I post photos to Instagram showing what girls looked like before they worked out with me and after, to spread word-of-mouth. On Friday, I do "Bring a Friend Friday" to expose someone new. I sold 200 T-shirts in a month and a half, and people wear them to class. There are girls in Singapore and Australia wearing my shirts. They say "Baby Momma First" and "Class of Ass."

I started with 150 subscribers. In January last year, I was a single mom, $30,000 in debt, working from 6 a.m. to 8 p.m., and living paycheck to paycheck. Now I’m making $10,000 to $12,000 a month on OnlyFans and might have enough money to buy a house. —As told to Lucas Shaw

When I started, it was just me talking to a camera. I wouldn't break 1,000 views. Then I added animation with a voice-over, and I’d get more than 10,000. Then I analyzed the data to figure out what people wanted: something that sparked emotion, was about a topic of current conversation, and ended with a twist, leaving them with a memorable feeling. I started casting my own family members. My third one, about a CEO talking down to a janitor, took off.

I pull in more money on other platforms, about $25 million a year from the ads that run on my YouTube and Facebook videos. IGTV became a surprise hit for me, though, and is starting to become more important because of the new revenue share from the ads.

If I were a creator starting fresh, I’d focus on YouTube or TikTok. Insta is saturated—you could make $60,000 a year with 100,000 followers, but it would be hard to become a millionaire. Just don't buy followers or comments. People can tell it's not real. —As told to S.F.

The first videos I posted were about the game Minecraft. I didn't expect to make any money. I was only 13 or 14. In one video, I ranked my top five modifications, like adding a miniature map to the screen or an option that lets you see how hurt another character is. That video now has 357,000 views—about 50 times more than any of my earliest videos. That's when I realized that not a lot of people offered that kind of information. I found that niche and went all-in.

When I was getting 100 million views a month, I was one of the three most-watched Minecraft channels. My most successful videos weren't the "top five" videos anymore. They were of me trying to entertain people while I played games. That's when I decided to start a video-blog channel. I saw a video of a dude making a Hot Wheels track. So I made a Hot Wheels track, only I made it go underwater.

I now operate five different channels. Our most popular video is us building a massive Lego tower. It's gotten a lot easier now that I have a team. We upload videos every week, and each one gets at least a couple million views. We toss out 80% of our ideas. If we film something and it doesn't work, I’m not going to upload it. That's probably why I end up working 80 hours a week.

Good titles and thumbnails are everything. I make two or three for every video. I pick whichever I think is best, but if it doesn't perform, I switch it out.

The channels combined generate more than 300 million viewers a month, and revenue from the business doubles every year. A lot of that comes from ads, but a growing portion comes from merchandise and branded-content deals. I made enough money that I bought a house in north Houston surrounded by water to film the videos. My next goal is I want to buy a submarine. —As told to L.S.