What’s your process?

I’ve had the opportunity over the last few days to discuss my writing process at length – specifically my process of writing for other people. I talked to interviewers, friends, clients and writers-to-be…

One of those times, the conversation was with a brilliant photographer named Randi Baird. I was asking her about her process of documentation through pictures for a presentation she’s giving. I listened to her talk and wrote this from our exchange:

I marinate in the ideas before I photograph for an article; then, I illustrate the author’s words. Working with chefs, the ingredients become the colors, tools, shapes, textures within an image. Documenting a family, the ingredients are the personalities, the ages, the setting, the history. In each case, we all benefit from collaboration, communication, the strengths of our individual visions…and their fusion.

After she read it, she said, “You’re really good!” And I said, “No you are…you said it!!!” True, I wordsmithed it. But it was her energy, personality, intention, words and phrasing that served as the ingredients for writing the piece.

Here’s my process:

1. Meet with my client in person or on the phone for an hour or two and ask them tons of questions. Making it easy, natural, conversational.

2. Listen to them talk about themselves, their business, industry, goals, mission, philosophy.

3. Hear the words and phrasing that they use and the way that they talk – inflections, emphasis, accent, colloquialisms, industry-isms.

4. Marinate in all of this…especially their personality, energy, essence, je ne sais quoi…

5. Take notes, audio or video record – whatever it takes.

6. Find out what information needs to be relayed and to what audience. I like to do this oftentimes in the form of questions. And I ask the client directly for an answer – let them share their expertise.

7. I answer the questions, solve problems, inform and illustrate in the copy I create.

8. When writing as a ghostwriter / marketing writer, it’s like being an actor in a play – I become the character, channel their voice…and deliver.

What’s your process?

Image credit: Chotda

Un-Selfishing your Presence

When I was about 7 years old, we got my dad the best Christmas presents ever…three new Atari games: Frogger, Pitfall and Space Invaders. The brilliance of our gift was that we looked like great kids, my older brothers and I, but we weren’t at all because my dad didn’t play with Atari - we did. So, in effect, we bought the games for ourselves.

They weren’t really the best presents ever, they were the most selfish presence ever.

Cheesey as it may be, this little fable teaches us an important business lesson – and it’s simple. Whether you’re a company or a freelancer or a whatever you are, you have to do some marketing, right?

When you (and your copywriter) create your outreach message – make sure that you:

• Listen to your audience first.
• Find out what they want.
• Answer their questions.
• Solve their problems.
• …as opposed to yours.
• Because this isn’t about you.

If we’d listened to my dad, for example, we would’ve found out that he really wanted cheesey music a Loggins & Messina record (literally vinyl), a toy for his mid-life crisis Mazda RX7, Cardinal’s baseball tickets or a cigar…not Frogger. Not even close.

The result for us was lousy allowance rates, fewer trips to get ice cream and some eye rolling…what’s yours?

Image courtesy of sokabs

A tale of two bags

This is what happened to me last night:

Women on Fire

I went to hear a phenomenal speaker, executive coach, the founder of Women on Fire and the author of the book by the same name, Debbie Phillips. She talked about, well, being a woman on fire – the steps that you have to take for courage, inspiration, following your heart and the like. She was funny and motivating and charming – and everyone was très fired up.

And, then, Debbie invited us to have an experience. We each wrote on a card the following three things:

1. What is your biggest accomplishment from the past year?
2. What are you fired up about right now?
3. What do you need to help turn that fired up thing into an accomplishment?

Speaking out

We all wrote down our answers and then got into groups of four to discuss them. Five minutes later, Debbie asked people to stand up in front of the room (120+/- women) and share. If you haven’t noticed, I have a big mouth and I jumped right up – though not really because of my inability to keep my mouth shut.

The thing I’m fired up about is the writing of my book and the big mama publishing house that’s interested in it – but I’m watching myself stand off to the left of this fact. Do you know what I mean? I’m so excited, but when I tell people I feel like I’m peering around the trophy, not holding it square in front of my gut. I have a toe in the shoes, but I’m not standing in them. The news is too big. It is too much ‘everything I’ve ever wanted’. So, I thought, well, I’ll just get up in front of all of these women and say it, loud and proud. And I’ll feel it, believe it, own it.

After all, Debbie said again and again how important this process was – to be on fire and share it in the safe company of other women on fire. She said safe and connection and support so often during her talk, each enveloping and practically obliterating my fear. So I stood up. I said what I was on fire about. People clapped and cheered. Afterwards, many of the women asked me about the book and gave me huge hugs…

Pause

I’m going to pause now and tell you that someone very near, dear and wise to me believes that we have miraculous powers of manifestation and creation. That we call to us exactly what we need when we need it.

Obviously I’m struggling with some fired-up issues, which is one of the reasons I wanted to attend Debbie’s talk in the first place. I felt pulled to be around other women and to be inspired. Debbie herself says it best:

“I’ve always been inspired by the energy of brilliant, dynamic, caring women coming together to create something more vibrant than what they could on their own. I live near the ocean on Martha’s Vineyard and call this my ‘rising tide lifts all boats’ theory.”

Yes! So, according to my friend, I created this event last night so that I could experience the rising tide. But what about all of the worry and self-doubt? Where’s that energy going? What’s it creating?

Un-Pause

…and then BLAM. A woman standing right in front of me, eyeing me with a hardy dose of skepticism and perhaps a little disgust quivering about her upper lip, says, “Soooo…what’s this ‘book’ about?” I told her, and I swear on my MacBook, she says, “and they want you to write it?” As if she was questioning Hitler’s ability to pen a benevolent history of the Jewish people.

The safety had disappeared, vanished. I wanted to call Superman and beg him to fly backwards around the Earth several times so that I could pull the fire-laced words back into my mouth. Keeping them safe…you know…inside.

And so it is…

I’m carrying two big bags around on my shoulders. One is full of the excitement and thrill of a dream being realized. The other is a sack of shit:  self-doubt, creative blockage, paranoia, isolation and fear. And when I walked into that room – both sacks were waiting for me to confront, absorb and choose between.

The good bag was warm and spirited – it led me to achieve my answer to #3 (What Do I Need?) – which is a stable, consistent group of women that meets regularly to share, support and inspire each other. I started forming it last night, and I can’t wait to get started. I seek community.

The bad bag was a mean, nasty, seething troll. Competition, greed, insecurity, doubt…they all live there.

I’m going with the good bag.

Whew!!! It feels good to say that out loud.

Who’s with me?

Image courtesy of anikaviro

How to be effective

About a year ago, I was fortunate enough to see Karol Rose of Flexpaths speak. This burgeoning company, and Karol along with it, is changing the way we think about work, workstyle flexibility and life in general….and I’m thrilled to be writing for them. After I saw Karol speak, I wrote about her theory of work/life balance – which basically states that the quest for ‘balance’ is a myth and a recipe for heartache and stress.

Karol maintains that we should reach for work/life effectiveness instead, and this weekend I was the poster child for her theory.

Take a two year-old boy + a three year-old girl + a Blackberry/Mac/Writing/Blogging/Twitter obsessed mom and subtract my wife (you know, the reigning Mother of the Year champ) and put them together for 53 hours with no outside help whatsoever.

The perfect storm?

It could have been, but I took Karol’s advice to heart. I needed to be effective at home this weekend. So, I turned off my computer, ignored my Blackberry’s charming gong that tells me I have yet another email and sunk deeply and contentedly into my role as Mom…And I had the time of my life.

Sure, some writing ideas popped into my head and I scribbled them down. Once or twice I checked Twitter to see what was happening. But my mindset was all about home. I can assure you that if I had had the goal of getting a few work things done this weekend, we all might have imploded.

In this case, ‘balance’ was found by tipping the scales profoundly and completely in the direction of home.

Apply this lesson where you will. If you’d like to be effective anywhere, anyhow, anytime – Just. Do. IT.

Image courtesy of Zen

Did Shakespeare have an editor?

As I walked this morning, I was thinking about the book I was writing and the books other people have written (specifically Geraldine Brooks’ People of the Book which is outstanding and masterful) – and the editing process that surrounds them. I pretty quickly made the leap to the copywriting work that I do – and the editing process that surrounds them.

In each case, the writer/artist begins with a pure moment of production unfettered by anyone esle’s opinions. Or does s/he? Are there thoughts always lingering in the back of the mind about what the editor, readers, customers, clients, boss wants? And if not, certainly the inner editor is there.

Many of us have been lucky, we’ve had those moments. Those beatific dips in the space-time continuum when the words gush in a direct beam from mind to paper (er, keyboard). And in those moments, the editorial thoughts are silent.

Which got me thinking about Shakespeare. He didn’t have an editor at Harper Collins breathing down his neck or telling him that the story would work better if only Juliet was hanging out of her window instead of standing on her balcony…right? Of course, he did have the Queen and the theater owners to contend with (yes, I saw Shakespeare in Love, too).

But imagine him before he actually became Shakespeare. For that matter, imagine us before we had bills to pay or dreams of fame and repute.

Is this what we should be striving for? Writing for the love of writing? Purely that?

Of course we should…

When I got to my computer, post-walk, I had an email directing me to Chris Brogan’s latest blog post (actually he wrote it yesterday but I only got it today because Feedburner sucks). In it, he urges us to “work backwards” – it’s a wonderfully inspiring article that supports the wackiness of my work life. He writes:

In the beginning, you might feel a bit uncertain. Try things out. Build secret labs. Run things by friends. Then, don’t listen to what they say. You think visionaries have safety nets and advisory boards and case studies?

Someone had to hunt the first mammoth.

That’s right, I thought. Someone, or some people, wrote before there were bosses and editors and clients and customers. When they wrote because they were called to create and share. Because they couldn’t resist.

So. Can we clear our minds, in whatever pursuit we’re engaged, and – essentially – go back?

Image courtesy of gadl

Irony. It’s so twisted.

As my good friend, Sarah, likes to say, “You can’t make this stuff up.”

Irony, according to my favorite dictionary (courtesy of Apple) is ‘a state of affairs or an event that seems deliberately contrary to what one expects and is often amusing as a result.’

Miss California, by way of irony, has recently given us quite a bang for our buck. While preaching against gay marriage in the name of the holy church and bible, it’s been uncovered that:

• Her bible and religion don’t scoff at young women taking off their clothes and posing for nude photographs, but do oppose loving people making a lifelong, serious commitment to one another and raising families.
• She lied when she said the first set of nude photos that were released on the internet were the only ones.
• The breasts God gave her simply weren’t good enough and she had to get new ones.
• She violated her Miss California contract by not revealing her nude pictures to the pageant committee.
• Her declaration against gay marriage (the rights for which somewhere around half the population of her state support) does not toe the line of representing fully the state she has been honored to represent.

And then…Donald Trump lets Carrie Prejean keep her crown. My head is spinning.

Personally, I’m not into this plot at all. It has politics and loud ick factor…but no substance. You’re right, Sarah, we would never make this up – it’s just too…banal.

Writers, we can do so much better than this…can’t we?

UPDATE: Like Manna from Heaven – me and Keith Olbermann are one. I just found this and nearly fell off my chair. Thank you, Mr. Olbermann, for speaking up so eloquently:

Image courtesy of Wasabicube

A Writing Exercise

I haven’t done one of these in a long time, so I’m making you do it with me…

I’m going to post a picture below, and we all have to write a few words, sentences, paragraphs, a poem or a story to go with it (you can do it in the comments, I’ll be putting mine directly under the picture). If this exercise strikes your mind like lightening and you end up writing the world’s greatest novel because of it, please mention me in the credits.

Ready? Here we go:

“If I just ignore him long enough, maybe he won’t see me,” thought the bunny.

“If I just stare at him hard enough, maybe he’ll jump into my mouth,” thought the dog.

And…your turn…GO!

Lessons From an Addict

Once upon a time, I was an exercise addict. Under the guise of being a triathlete (not Ironmans! sheesh. just some local sprints: 1/2 mile swim, 12 mile bike, 3 mile run), I worked out like a fiend. If I had a 7:00 meeting, I biked at 4am. If there was a freak New England blizzard in April, I ran anyway. If the pool was closed, I found a pond or an ocean. Welcome to one of the delights of being me…

And then one day, during a 10 mile road race, I injured myself beyond repair – or at least beyond repair back to where I had been that morning. So I started walking and doing yoga. Religiously and without fail, I practiced yoga every morning. At first I thought I’d been transformed. But really I’d just transferred my addiction.

I’ve continued to do so. I still do yoga and walk most every morning (my children, upon being born, released me from the severity of my routine), but over the last few years, my commitment to writing has grown to effectively hold a prominent place beside my sneakers and my yoga mat.

You know, there really is something positive to be found in my manicopia of exercise. Sure I liked the endorphin high, the fitness, my yoga butt, the health of it all – but what I am really enamored by (and the writing practice has made this abundantly clear) is the knowledge that within minutes of opening my eyes, I have already accomplished something.

No matter what happens the rest of the day, I’m buoyed up by the knowledge of my morning success. I love that it’s totally up to me…and my tools – body, mind and laptop.

Image courtesy of wiccked

Before the Good Stuff

Did you know that the original purpose of doing yoga postures was to prepare the body and mind for meditation? Yes, it’s true, the goal was never tight abs and a rockin’ ass.

Still, meditation does not come easy. For the vast majority of us, it never has. As we add more and more to our lives, it grows even harder. Just ask me.

I used to wake up every morning at 5am to practice yoga – or to lead it. I worked, studied and taught at the largest yoga center in the world…and it was still hard for me to just sit down and be still.

And then, I had children and built a business, and I forgot that meditation existed. The yoga stopped.

Until last week. Something happened and I pulled out my yoga mat and, AH!, did yoga. And then something else happened…This morning, after I finished my postures, my body literally pulled me down, gently closed my eyes and dropped me into a peaceful, restful state of meditation. Block cities were being built around me, a three year-old curled into my lotus lap. But it didn’t matter. I could have sat there all day.

If you must know, I (and several of my family members) have been trying for the last three years to make myself be still, even for one minute. It’s been an unattainable goal. And I realized this morning that it was because I had forgotten the critical step. That I couldn’t just jump from crazy life to meditation, but that I had to prepare my body first.

What I was struck by was that my writing process is the exact opposite. My writing focus, that lucious connection to muse, blasts from the most chaotic and harried of moments. There is no time of preparation. There is just life and then words. Yes, I’ve written that walking in the morning helps stir my brain and stimulate words, but even then my mind is swirling and then boom.

Ah, grasshopper…so maybe my preparation is the chaos? Perhaps there is some method to this madness? Perchance ‘no preparation’ is my gameplan. What’s yours?

Image by Joe Shlabotnik

Is It Worth It?

Warning: This post is a little bit gross, but that’s just life in the big city.

Did you see Slumdog Millionaire? I saw about 1/2 of it – until I couldn’t take the violence and left. But I did see the part where little Jamal jumps into the crapper to meet his hero. That’s serious dedication. And, it brings up the age old dilemma that I like to call:

Is it worth it?

I live in a house with composting toilets (called a Clivus). They are no where near as disgusting as Jamal’s facilities – in fact, they’re incredibly clean, and I now abhor using water toilets. But, at the end of the day, when you look down the hole, it ain’t pretty.

Last week, I was washing out one of the bowl inserts that we have for our kids’ potties – I dumped the ’stuff’ into the Clivus, washed the bowl out in the sink and went to toss it back on the potty seat. Unfortunately, my mind was busy writing blog posts or something, and without thinking, I tossed the little white plastic bowl down the Clivus.

Yes, it was one of those slow-motion moments…where my ‘Noooooooo’ came out sounding like a Borg or some such thing.

And, I had to decide. Is it worth it? Am I going in to get it? Or am I willing to let it go?

Of course the scenario made me think of my work.

How often does this question come up in business?

• When you see a freelance job posted…
• When someone blogs or tweets about an issue that enrages you…
• When a client doesn’t understand the brilliance of what you’ve written…
• When you lose a whole day because your internet goes down…

Each of these scenarios offers choices – do you you go after the job or not? speak up or not? defend yourself or not? freak out or find another way to get the work done?

How do you determine whether or not it’s worth it?

For me, the determination usually comes from trying out each option and seeing how I really feel. I trust my gut. Sometimes, I need to step away from the situation or check in with a trusted colleague. And then sometimes…sometimes…the answer is so crystal clear that it needs no thought whatsoever. For instance, there is no way I’m going to get that little white plastic bowl.

Your turn…

Image courtesy of Corey Ann