As of today, I’m 39 years old. I was talking to a friend last night, and she said, "I don’t worry about the number — I just think about where I am and what I’ve accomplished to see if I’m on track."

We then proceeded to attend a small dinner party that included indulgent food and too much wine, and I certainly didn’t feel I was acting any age I’ve been in the last decade. But that’s beside the point.

Her comment really has me thinking. When my mother turned 39, she had a very tough time. We other family members quietly left her presents in the bathroom for her to discover. Celebrating was out of the question. I’m not feeling threatened or unhappy about my new number, but I’m not sure it’s because I’m comfortable with what I’ve accomplished. When I turned 30, I cried for days, mainly because I hadn’t accomplished a goal I had set to be published by 30.

But today, now, these days, for the past several years…. I don’t really feel a ticking clock beside me. In fact, making the move to be a professional writer has instead made me more comfortable with the clock. I always imagined I’d use writing as a retirement plan, and now that I’m working for myself, I don’t have to worry about ageism or sexism or a lot of -isms, real or imagined, that may have affected how confident I felt in a more conventional job.

I’m good at what I do. I’m glad I’m doing it. And my age at this point is just a number.

Yesterday I attended a free training from Constant Contact, the company I use for my eNewsletter and emails. I was excited about going for a couple of reasons: 1. I wanted to find ways to increase my eNewsletter open rate, and 2. I wanted to see how the company put on workshops to see if the concept would work for another of my clients.

Picture this: 75 or so small business owners looking to improve or start their own eNewsletters. What did they need more than anything? Guidance and content. What do I do for a living? Provide content and help for marketing efforts such as eNewsletters.

And what was I thinking about when I first got to the meeting? Whether or not I should have a muffin for breakfast.

(Please slap forehead here.)

As we were waiting for the session to start, the speaker greeted attendees. I introduced myself as a copywriter. The speaker turned to the other participants and announced, "Hey, people wanted to know where to get content… This woman has a company that produces content!" Within minutes three people came to introduce themselves. "Can you call me tomorrow?" one guy said. "We always need content!" another couple said. "Can you give me a price range…"

Holy smokes! How dumb could I be? I should have been networking from the get go.

The speaker really did all the wonderful things for me. When I raised my hand to respond to a question later, he said again, "And you’re a writer, right? And you specialize in eNewsletters?" In a mock, cheesy voice, I announced, "Yes — I am a WRITER WHO SPECIALIZES IN NEWSLETTERS." Everyone laughed, and the speaker said, "Make sure you get her card before you go.

I ended up with 10 leads and another half dozen people left with my card. And I was worried about muffins. Jeeze.

I’ve written several times about how I estimate how much time a project will take when I’m writing a proposal. I’ve been fortunate to come pretty close to the right number in most of my projects.

But those numbers rarely count my “thinking time.” I think about projects all the time. When I’m driving to the post office, I try to come up with a theme for a new eNewsletter. When I’m drinking coffee at my favorite coffee shop in the morning, I mentally run through the resources I have to rewrite a brochure for someone. Most of the time when I actually sit down to write something, I’ve already got a pretty good idea of where the piece needs to go because I’ve been ruminating for days.

I think “thinking time” is the toughest concept to get paid for. My former company will ask me to compose something, and the email will have the instructions, “Spend an hour on this.” But for every hour I spend in front of the computer actually writing, I’m sure I spend at least 30 minutes thinking about writing. And I haven’t quite figured out how to convert that time into a paycheck.

Another post on estimating.
The original post on estimating.

Yesterday and today I made a total of 37 phone calls to local businesses. I bought the list from San Diego Business Journal, and Sunday I put together a postcard that I sent to 186 people.

Of the 37 calls, I left 30 voice mails. Two companies said "No" immediately. One woman said, "We don’t do any copyrights in this office." I tried to explain that I was doing "copywriting, not copyrighting." After that call, I started saying I was a freelance writer, not a freelance copywriter.

Here is the basic script of the message I left on the voice mail:

Hi, so and so. My name is Beth and I’m calling from Avenue Z Writing Solutions. I am a freelance (copy)writer here in San Diego. I just wanted to call and introduce myself to see what kind of needs you may have for outside writing services.

A postcard is on its way to you with more information about my services. It’s got a scary-looking lady on the front, so you should be able to pick it out in the pile of mail.

And then I left my phone number, repeating it twice, and reiterated that this was Beth from Avenue Z Writing Solutions.

One guy seemed genuinely interested and passed me along to another voice mail to see if any projects were pending. Another woman told me to keep in touch. A couple of other people passed me along to their marketing departments.

I’ll keep you posted on the results.