Pretty Girl Karma

Surprisingly, this post applies to my male readers too – and to people that don’t consider themselves to be pretty (you really are, like it or not).

Writers, freelancers, work from homers – whoever you may be. At some point in your illustrious career, some lovely person has said this to you, “That’s so cool that you work from home! You can just wear your pajamas all day and no one will care or see you!”

Uh huh. It’s true. We could do that. And some days, I’m sure we all do.

I’m going to go out on a limb here and proclaim, superficiality be damned, that what we wear, how we costume ourselves, really does matter. It affects what we think about ourselves, how we act, how we talk, what we say, what actions we take.

When I dress in sweats and running shoes, I’m casual, I slump – sometimes when I look from the work I’m doing on my computer down to my clothes and back up again, it occurs to me that I’m maybe I’m only ‘playing’ writer.

So, I don’t do that anymore. Because when I wear jeans that fit in all the right places, my good bra that erases 3. 5 years of pregnancy and nursing with a single clasp, a beautiful and stain-free sweater and shoes that make me almost as tall as most other people who are on the shorter side of average height – then, I feel it when I’m sitting in this chair.

I’m confident, I’m worthy, I’m an adult, I’m a professional. I’m in touch with my power source. I own it. You can see it in the way I hold myself, in the way I walk, in the way I am and in the way I do. I dare say it’s my pretty girl karma. Because what I put out, comes right back at me – respect, value, compensation for what I’m worth, hotness, good people, great projects.

And in this case, karma is not a bitch. (Unless you piss her off.)

This post is dedicated to the FANTASTIC Kelly Diels who, when I told her that I dressed hot for the big Dragon Tattoo Blog Hunt launch yesterday even though no one saw me all day, remarked, ‘Of course…pretty girl karma’ without skipping a beat – and sparked my brain and ignited this post. Kelly gets it and just so you know, Kelly always looks hot and always shows plenty of Cleavage. I love her to bits.

What about you? Do you have power clothes? A power look? Are you affected by your threads? How?

Image credit: AlyssssylA

What’s security anyway?

I got a phone call yesterday afternoon. Well, first I got a message via LinkedIn requesting the call, then I got the call.

It was from a recruiter. Offering a very (very) high paid job at a company in Boston. For those of you who read this blog regularly and saw yesterday’s post, you can join me in a good laugh here: the position was to create and manage the social media department – wait for it – for a PR firm.

I know. As an old friend used to say, you just can’t make this stuff up.

It turned out that the job wasn’t right for me, the company’s looking for someone with strong social media experience and hands-on programming experience (HTML, Javascript, AJAX, XML, etc.) Which would be like asking me if I could write and do chemistry…which I couldn’t, can’t and, quite frankly, won’t. (If this is YOU, let me know and I’ll guide you right to this recruiter!!! And don’t let the Boston thing scare you, they’re even willing to pay for relo.)

Even though that particular job wasn’t for me, we got to talking – and said recruiter was very excited about what it is that I do, how I do it and why I do it. To be honest, I was excited about my answers too. And this confirmed that it would be sorta hard to woo me away from my present situation – owning my own company, being my own boss, freelancing and the randomness that comes with it.

Let’s be honest.

An actual job has some things going for it: a steady paycheck, health insurance, VACATION TIME, SICK TIME               sorry – I’m back, I think I just fainted for a minute there.

But, and it’s a big BUT – how secure would this job really be? As it stands, my success is entirely dependent on me. It’s a lot of pressure, but at least it’s mine. I do well when I work hard, seize opportunity, smear my gumption all over people…and things like that. I do poorly when I don’t do those things. And I have no one to blame but myself. Really. Even if I get screwed over or let down by a client, it’s up to me whether I cry about it and sling responsibility (and we all deserve at least 5 minutes of this) or whether I just get up and go find another one, a better one. Companies fold all the time or it’s just not a good fit or…there are so many things that could make this opportunity crumble.*

So, what I told her was, “Of course, I’ll send my resume, but:

• I’d be more interest in working as a contractor,
• Or as a consultant,
• Or on a special project for a few weeks to several months,
• And I’d need to telecommute,
• But I’d be happy to travel in on a regular basis.”

I’m not closing any doors. If a job-job came along that was just perfect (and had a sizable signing bonus), I would heavily consider it. As always, there is no definitive path…but there’s a helluva lot of excitement and possibility.

What about you? If you had your choice, would you go it alone or pull your chair up to a cubicle?

*I’m really not a pessimist. The other night, a loud truck with flashing lights woke me up in the middle of the night – my first and only thought was, why are they cleaning the streets at this hour? When, in fact and of course, it was a snowplow and we were in the middle of a snowstorm on March 1st. I think this is a sign of my deeply embedded optimism. (Which is why, for now, I’m putting my chips on Writing Roads.)

Image credit: Lokner

When old media and new media play together in the sandbox

‘This is a very simply game. You throw the ball, you catch the ball, you hit the ball. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. Sometimes…it rains.” Bull Durham

As I see it, one of my roles on this blog is, for lack of better words, to play the fool. For you that is. In other words, I’m taking one for the team. I’ve said time and time again that I’ve wished, both when I was starting out and still as I find my way, that I had someone like me who I could ask for advice or learn from. But I didn’t when I was starting and I frequently forget to ask for help now…so here I am as a result, sometimes doing it right, sometimes doing it wrong, sometimes…just doing it.

And last week, I did something wrong. So I’m here to tell you about it so that you, hopefully, don’t do it wrong if the opportunity should present itself.

Swimming around the freelancers’ pool

Freelancing has placed me in wide variety of situations at this point, I’m assuming you could say the same. By definition, we get thrown into all matter of circumstances where we may or may not have any clue how to act or be or do. Over our heads, soaked to our ankles, blowing bubbles, treading water or swimming speedily through the course – sometimes within a span of 5 minutes. Right?

Currently, I’m working on a massive project with a sizable team, we’ve got a little bit of every role you could imagine. Specific to my ‘doing it wrong’, we have two publicists. They’re Big deals. (It was suggested that I add the capital ‘B’).  One of them is French – and I imagine her sitting at a huge mahogany desk with a toy poodle on her lap and a long, thin cigarette hanging off of a long porcelain cigarette holder between her long thin fingers. Her hair is piled on top of her head and she’s wearing Chanel. But I have no idea if that is even a little bit true.

Anyway, I pissed her off.

You see, on a regular basis, the publicists send out emails to the team alerting us to news breaks or product mentions. And I, in my blind ignorance and bloggy haze of ‘we’re all in this together’, figured they were just letting us know whenever we were featured in the media. Since I’m running the social media campaign, I’ve engaged many listening tools – effectively holding my trusty stethoscope up to the internet – so that I know every time we ‘appear’ online. Obviously, then, I thought I should contribute to these emails as well. You know – one for all and all for…

Oops.

I got told off…and how (and quickly) for this gaff. Those press breaks they were sending were gigs the publicists themselves had landed. The break is there metric for their work for the client. Had I secured the mention I just emailed? (she asked). Um…nooooo, not so much. I just thought we were all spreading the good news. It turns out, we weren’t. Not even a little bit.

All worked out fine, I apologized, I never did it again, I returned to my corner to do my job. And I learned some things, which makes it all worth it in the end:

1. Now that I know why what I did wasn’t okay, it seems blaringly, glaringly obvious.
2. This is true of most lessons learned, except maybe those gleaned from a calculus textbook.
3. When entering a new situation, take a good look around and identify things that might not be familiar.
4. Find someone, either within the fray or without, that is familiar with those things.
5. If you feel like doing a certain something that is out of your general knowledge area, ask this someone for guidance: Run it by them first.
6. Keep your wits about you – did you just break a cardinal rule? ruin a business? step over a cultural line? threaten someone’s place on the totem pole? Put your mistake in perspective.
7. Life is very interesting when the old media and the new media play together in the sandbox.
8. My skin is getting thicker. Once upon a time I might have been mortified or at least obsessed about my faux pas. This time I said ‘whoops!’, laughed and moved right along.
9. What’s next? (Thank you, President Bartlett). The only way out of an error is forward. Fix it, change your behavior, don’t do it again.
10. When you have the best readers in the world, it isn’t that hard to tell them about the times when you’re stupid.
11. I really do love to share. It’s how I got myself into this mess…and it’s how I’m getting myself out.

Image credit: Banalities

The Sense of Write

I have an uncanny sense of smell. Seriously, I’ve broken up with people over it. Not because they liked the smell of lavender while I insist on freesia and lilac, but because they didn’t smell right. If this writing things doesn’t work out, I might become a pheromone detective.

My nose is my directional. And this week, it stopped working. It’s a little bit completely amusing because I wrote a post about voluntarily shutting your nose on the 15th. I can only guess this is the Universe telling me, Not so fast, sweetheart, we still hold the ultimate control card in these parts.

Anyway, it stopped working because I have a cold. For me this is a once a year occurrence, the last time was late last February when I had a full-blown flu. This time, just a wicked head cold.

They say that when one sense stops working, the others kick into overdrive. But, I can’t smell, taste or hear from the cold and I haven’t been able to see since 1983. (I’m practically blind and my vision can’t be corrected to 20/20 even with my glasses or contacts.) So that leaves me with the 5th sense: feel. Except that the cold has usurped that as well. Because all I’ve felt like is crap.

First let me say that there’s something refreshing about not having any of the senses work. While I can’t taste my food, I also can’t smell anything bad. When I was running yesterday (yes, I still ran even though I was sick – I think sweating helps), I couldn’t smell any exhaust. There I was moving up the last hill on State Road thinking, Wow! These cars are all running so clean! It usually stinks out here! And then I remembered. And I can’t taste that nasty cold/sick taste you usually have in your mouth when you’re sick. And I can’t hear annoying people. All in all, not so bad.

But the best news is that I think I’ve developed my own sickth sense: the Sense of Write. My writing has been lip-smacking good. Everything else is hibernating, but my writing brain and my writing fingers are looking for the party. Which is great because I have a lot of work to do. And because it’s one of my favorite things to do. And because my boss refuses to give me any sick time. (So I’m leaving used Kleenex all over her desk.)

Image credit: hebedesign

The writer’s dependency…can we cut the ties that bind us?

Poor is the man whose pleasures depend on the permission of another – Madonna

And here we are, eh? The freelancing community has a knack for getting tied up in knots, literally, in our dependency upon others. The strings that move our fingers over our keyboards, our deposits into the bank, the corners of our mouths up and down – they all lead to our clients. And the economy and the market and…you get the picture.

Writers depend on publishers, printers, readers, reviewers…did I mention publishers? I know, I know -  this is all changing. We have blogs, we have self-publishing, we have the Kindle. But still – is it really true? Can we be independent? Can our pleasure be found through our own permission?

It makes me have to ask the most basic question. Can you be a writer without readers? Yes, but you might just starve. I’d venture to say that we do need something. We need people.

Are we poor?

I can list many ways that we are rich, aka, independent:

• We set our own hours
• We choose our niche
• We handpick our clients
• We set our own fees
• We write our own blogs
• We write about what we want to write about
• We build great writer communities

But back to the question, ‘are we poor?’ I’m thinking this isn’t an either/or situation. It’s more like an every other minute, hour or day situation. Right? I mean, how often does your reply change? Because the above riches are still dependent on other people.

So what’s the answer?

If you’re attached to people that say no, people that don’t have a lot of money, people that don’t share your vision, people that think there’s only one way, people that are insecure, people that don’t challenge themselves or you – then, yep! You’ll be poor.

The answer, then, is to surround ourselves with the right people. The people with the energy, the insight, the capacity to take risks, that are secure enough to shout about you from their own rooftops, the people that want success for all – and are brilliant enough to see that your success is actually their success. The people who love life…and can’t wait for what’s next.

Find these people. If we can’t cut the ties that bind us – because our writing needs to be read – then take them and fasten yourself to objects that are moving FORWARD and UP. Just like you.

Image credit: Hollywood Celebrity Pictures

Shut your nose.

When I was pregnant, I had a serious problem with smell. This wasn’t completely out of the ordinary – other women get like this too, but it usually goes away after the first trimester.

Mine didn’t. For the 35 weeks that I carried that little sucker, I could not stand to smell anything. Perfume, my basement, my dogs, rain, grocery stores (really anything besides guacamole), one sniff and I tossed my cookies – so to speak. It was when I was pregnant that I unearthed the real reason that most kitchens are designed with the fridge within spitting distance of the sink.

My personal fix for this issue was to keep my nose closed, completely shut down. And this was when I came to discover that I have my very own super power.

Apparently, most people can only close their nose by holding it shut with their fingers (or a clothespin – but that really hurts). But I can do it without my hands. I can’t even explain it – the how or the muscles involved. I can just do it. It’s like I have a nose switch or something. I’m doing it right now. And you can’t even tell. I still look like I do when my nose is open. If any of you are thinking this is no big deal (which is what I originally thought), then you are special too – but, at this point, I’ve so many people tell me this is extraordinary that I’ve come to accept that it is true.

I should probably have t-shirts made. With a big nose on the front. The back will say, ‘I can shut it.’

As a writer, it made me think about what else needs to be shut at regular and excruciatingly important moments and how, all the while, we need to still look the same, equanimous even, to the outside world. Let’s see:

• Our mouths when a client wants us to ‘add flowery language’
• Our doors when people that wish us harm come knocking
• Our computers/smartphones when we need to be human and interact with others
• Our insecurity when we’re pitching a proposal or naming our fee
• Our egos when we’re writing for someone else
• Our doubts when we’re writing for ourselves

And some things must remain open with poise as well:

• Our minds
• Our hope
• Our relationships with those that mentor, adore and support us (and us them)
• Our desire to learn, stretch, expand and grow
• Our capacity to write about different things
• Our ability to write in someone else’s voice
• Our tolerance and acceptance of different perspectives
• Our stream, our flow of words, thoughts and ideas
• Our belief in ourselves

Image credit: mag3737

I’m sending you off on an adventure around the blogosphere…and the importance of a landing page

Really, I am. I’m sending you elsewhere…(but just for a little field trip).

Because today, I have a post that lives on a different blog. It’s a little, teeny, tiny blog with oh, I don’t know, over 100,000 subscribers and god only knows how many daily hits. (I like to fantasize that it’s a million).

But before I send you off, I have to share an important trick of the trade that I’ve learned via this particular guest posting experience. How many times have you read a guest post on one of your favorite blogs, loved it and clicked through to the author’s site only to land on their home page or blog where you poke around directionless before either 1) subscribing because you liked the guest post so much or 2) leaving because it’s all just kind of blah or 3) finding this blogger’s blog so enthralling that you read everything they’ve ever written?

When Sonia Simone, Copybloggers’ Senior Editor, emailed me to arrange my guest post, she recommended that I create a landing page for Copyblogger traffic. Brilliant. Really, this is such a fantastic idea. I immediately created a page that my guest post bio would link back to on my site instead of just sending them to my blog url. The page tells new visitors:

• Who I am
• What I do
• Where to find the things I want them to find on my site (ebook, teleclass info, blog, services, etc.)
• Special projects

You could also include:

• Links for people to buy your products
• Favorite blog posts
• Contact information
• And on and on

I’ve seen people use landing pages for Google Ads, their Twitter (or other social media sites), conference bios, etc. It’s your landing page, you are directing the flow of traffic exactly how you want to, total control.

Guest posting is a very good thing. It’s critical for bloggers interested in growing their readership. But, ceating a landing page for new readers so they know where to go and what to do and how to get the most out of you? As I said, brilliant.

And now, without any further ado, I’d love for you to click on over to Copyblogger to read my post. And you can find my landing page here.

Thanks y’all.

Image credit: waywuwei

Creating proposals that get you the job and are just generally awesome.

So, yesterday we were talking about the niche. But niche or not, when you want to get clients, you have to show them what’s on offer and make your case. Enter, the proposal. Imagine a sturdy, stunning document that you have at the ready to not only dazzle people with – but to show them that you mean business and that you’re professional.

Here are my elements for a successful, sensational, first-class proposal:

• Context. Set the stage, give stats, set up the problem(s) that you are going to solve. What’s the state of the union in the world of underwater basket weaving? Give your view.
• Why. Why does the problem need to be solved? Why is your solution the right one? Why is the reader missing out if they don’t solve it?
• Offerings. What are YOU going to do, how are YOU going to solve this problem for them. Tell them exactly and clearly what you will do for them.
• Prices. Get to the good stuff or get off the stage. You can tell me all about the world’s best toaster, but if it costs $1000, I’m outta here – so simply tell me the price so I can decide if I’m in or if I’m going to just eat cold bread.
• Who are you? Give the background about yourself and/or your company, show that you’ve got the goods. And don’t write your life story – only include information that is pertinent to this proposal. They only care that you’re good, have credentials and aren’t crazy. They don’t care that you once won a pie eating contest (unless you’re pitching Hostess).
• Who do other people think you are? This is the place for testimonials and/or stats and results from your previous work to date. Humans are pack animals, so if we see that other people think you’re stupendifying, we’ll assume that it’s true.
• Case study. Walk the reader through a real life example of what it’s like to work with you. Let them live life with you for a few bullet points.
• Portfolio. Show us what you’ve accomplished and show it proudly. Links, screen shots, you name it.
• Length. We all struggle with the Goldilocks syndrome here – looking to get it just right. Here’s the thing: it needs to be full and complete, you’ve got some ground to cover. So can you do that in a way that doesn’t look like you’re writing the great American novel? Big fonts, headlines, sub-headlines, pictures, different layouts and bullet points all help here. Make it easy for the potential client to get in, get the info they need and get out. Don’t make them feel like they have to read every word – because they won’t and they’ll be annoyed by the assumption that they should.
• Proofread. I couldn’t not say this. I know you will – for typos and content clarity. Tricks: 1) read it out loud as our minds like to make misspelled words look right, and 2) give it to a different and fresher pair of eyes to read through as well.
• Make it purty. If you’re still using a PC, you’re kind of screwed here. I kid, I kid. But seriously, creating a presentation in Keynote (via Apple’s iWork program) is the equivalent of giving a 3 year old one of those painting books where you rub a wet paint brush over the paper and the Mona Lisa appears. In other words, a good design/presentation program even makes someone artistically challenged, like me, look brilliant. Find a computer program that formats and designs beautifully, OR hire a designer to do this part for you. It’s worth it. (and I know a few, so just ask me). And, if you aren’t a writer, hire a writer to write the proposal for you (I know a few of those as well). Because remember: people really do judge you by your looks. It’s a shallow, shallow world out there.

…but hopefully that means someone will pluck your proposal out of the ankle deep waters.

Have some additional proposal tips, favorite design platforms? Please, by all means, add them in the comments below…

Image credit: Derek Purdy

Time to hitch this horse to a niche.

For a long time now, I haven’t niche myself. I intuited, assumed and experienced the fact that the wider I cast my net, the greater the number of fish I could possibly, and did ultimately, catch.

You’ll notice that this goes against what most people will tell you to do. As a matter of fact, it goes against what I tell you to do in my eBook (How to Become a Successful Copywriter). But that’s because I subscribe to the ‘if it’s not broke, don’t f*ck with it’ school of thought. And for me, it wasn’t broke. Wasn’t. Past tense.

Raise your hand if this fun little recession we’re having has taken you down a notch (or is just bumming you out severely or is even just reducing the number of massages you can get each week). My hands are raised, too. I actually just heard that the average business took a 40-50% hit in 2009. Which made me feel good for a nanosecond because that statistic shouted, ‘It’s not you! It’s the Cheney, Rove, Bush trifecta’s!’ at me.

But still and of course, after I reviewed my year-end numbers, I ate some ice cream (best stuff ever), moped for a few minutes and then sat down to figure out how I was going to fix this situation. Which is when it hit me. While I can write about anything and while I enjoy the variety, I think it’s time to hitch to a niche.

I’ve got it all picked out, came upon it by working with a client within it…will tell you about it soon. But, here are some things to think about if you’re going to go the niched route.

• Find people within the niche that you can talk to – get an insider’s view about what’s needed
• Then, figure out how you can give them what they need and want
• Pick something that you like and where your interest will be held
• Research and see who else is working within this niche and how they’re doing it
• Then figure out how to do it better
• Tell everyone you know what you’re doing because many of them will say, ‘Hey! I know someone who would be perfect for you to talk to!’ And we all know that a direct introduction and personal connection is KEY.
• Create a proposal, something pretty that: 1) answers questions, 2) provides total information, 3) makes people want you 4) is the perfect response to, ‘Can you send me something to look at?’ (post on how to create a fab proposal is HERE)
• Even if you niche, don’t ditch the broader scope completely…no need to shut doors, burn bridges, close windows (anyone besides me want me to stop rhyming?)

Loving the plaque in the picture up above as it is beyond apropos. It tells us that ‘…this was a meeting place for pioneers that tied their horses to the hitching rail while conducting business…’ and that they were, ‘…hardy and foresighted pioneers…’

Huh, just like you and me.

Image credit: stuttermonkey

Wind fall, Wind wall

Today, I get the blue ribbon, the gold star, the biggest trophy. Yes, sports fans, today I have garnered the honor of going for the worst rollerblade ever.

It all started when I heard the wind howling outside my window at 5:30am. I laughed in its face, it won’t be so bad, I thought. Since it was still pitch dark outside, I hopped on my yoga mat for a bit and then looked out the window again. It was still pretty dark, but I could see a hint of lightness out there…somewhere. So I headed out.

After I parked my car at the head of the bike path, I stood there for a minute, my head swinging back and forth: bike path or road? Slowness and debris or speed and dodging cars? What the hell! I thought. Shotgun season is over and it’s been a while since I did the bike path…

In retrospect, I should’ve waited until it was a little lighter, but 1) I’m impatient, 2) I was in a hurry to get to work this morning (lots of good stuff on tap!), and 3) I’m busy pretending it’s spring and the days are longer. I think I was all of 5 minutes in, when uuuuummmmmpppphhhhh and crunch. (FYI, those were the sounds of the wind getting knocked out of me and my knees colliding with the pavement – see picture above.)

Pants ripped, searing pain and a bit of shock. You know that moment, when you realize you’re on the ground, but can’t remember getting there? I had that moment. Here’s my best guess: I couldn’t see the trail clearly in the pre-dawn light, I hit a twig or a rock and boom, down I went.

I knew the pain would subside, so I sat there for a few seconds and getting my breath back, smacking my wrist-guarded palms on the ground chanting bad words as I waited. (Yes, I wear a helmet and wrist-guards, but not knee pads – because I don’t need my knees to make a living, just my head and my hands. Not sounding like the greatest logic at this moment, I know.)

And then I was up again, shaking it off, skating and watching the ground like a hawk. I hadn’t surveyed the damage, but I could feel the warm gooeyness of blood adhering my pants to both of knee caps – and I ignored it. Kept going.

Until, around mile 5. With 2 miles to go, I turned the last big corner on my loop and headed back towards my car. And into a pure, stalwart, unforgiving, NFL linebacker-sized wall of wind. Yes, I have been known to exaggerate in my life (I’m a Cancer and a writer and a woman – so go figure), but I checked with my favorite weather peeps just now and there is a wind advisory in effect with steady winds at 19mph and gusts up to 45 mph. The temperature is 25 degrees, the windchill is 13.

What should have taken me 12 minutes, took me about 30. And kinda sucked. There were times when I felt like I was in one of those cool swimming machines where a constant current has you just swim in place (I’ve always wanted one of those if you’re trying to think of a good Happy New Year present for me). And there were times when I felt like a 16 year old driving a stick shift for the first time as the wind moved haphazardly from 20 to 40 to 30 to 45 mph.

The solidness of the wall was the worst. It felt impassible. I could see my car and it looked nothing but far, far away. But I knew I was going to get through it. And the wind knew I was going to get through it. I mean, what was the alternative? To stop? Sit down? Cower? Wait until May?

As if.

Image credit: me and my Blackberry Storm – which usually takes crappy pics, but that one isn’t half bad. Too gross? Too much information? I told you all months ago, I’m into non-fiction.