Please accept with no obligation, implied or implicit, my best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, low-stress, non-addictive, gender-neutral celebration of the winter solstice holiday, practiced within the most enjoyable traditions of the religious persuasion of your choice, or secular practices of your choice, with respect for the religious/secular persuasion and/or traditions of others, or their choice not to practice religious or secular traditions at all. I also wish you a fiscally successful, personally fulfilling and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2008, but not without due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures whose contributions to society have helped make America great. Not to imply that America is necessarily greater than any other country nor the only America in the Western Hemisphere. Also, this wish is made without regard to the race, creed, color, age, physical ability, religious faith or sexual preference of the wishes.
 
(author unknown)

As the year draws to a close, I’ve been reflecting on the progress of my life as a freelance copywriter. I started the business in August and this blog in September.

My goal all along in starting the blog was to give others a chronicle of one woman’s attempt to start her own writing business. I fluctuate among posts about the business of writing, the challenges of working at home, the joys of procrastination, the best and worst tools for writers or small businesses, the pleasure of empty bank accounts and the ups and downs of just being human.

I love the community of readers. A couple of times a week I get emails from aspiring copywriters who want to know about tools I’ve referenced or marketing techniques I’ve tried. I get a lot of encouragement from fellow writers, talented artists, friends and family. My clients sometimes catch me off guard with a reference to my blog, “Hey, Beth… Sorry you’ve been sick. I saw it on your blog.” Or, “Beth, you can go ahead and invoice us, but don’t go get that steak dinner yet!”

Two ex-boyfriends follow my blog, I think (we don’t talk much anymore, of course). And my new… err… ok, I’ll say it… boyfriend…is a devoted follower (and deliverer of cupcakes when needed). My neighbors read my blog. I’ve got a friend who teaches, and she uses some of my material in her classes. Another friend is thinking of starting his own consulting business, and he is carefully charting what not to do.

My sister, Sarah, follows my blog, as does my almost sister, Ingrid (otherwise known as Ingrid in England on the blogroll). My mom sometimes reads posts, and the other day she said, “Beth, I don’t know how to tell you this, but the other day I was reading and I saw a typo. I have no idea where.”

[Pictures, from left to right: Ingrid (reads), Mom (sometimes reads) and Sarah (reads), Pop (rarely reads -- plays Freecell and follows Dilbert)].

In a couple of days I’m meeting two fellow bloggers for dinner here in the Denver area. They’ve become wonderful, supportive friends. And one blogger introduced me to her company, for whom I now work.

So I guess I’ve got a great community of readers, a nice group of friends and the support of a whole host of future writers. That’s a nice Christmas present.

This week I’m just outside of Denver for the holidays. When I booked the flight, I thought I might be moving back to the area to live near my family, and I was generous with my “vacation” days because I envisioned that I might do some apartment hunting while I was home.

After all, I thought — I can work as a professional copywriter from anywhere, right?

Wrong.

My parents knew that I was tense about trying to make sure I could get work done, so they went out of their way to set up a bed and a place to work in their home office. I carefully planned my to do lists and my time, fantasizing that I could meet my father’s expectation that I’ll have to work only 3 hours a day while I’m here.

This morning I had a meltdown. I tried to escape to the basement to get work started. TVs were on in three places in the house. The phone kept ringing. The dog kept jumping up. The kitchen kept emitting mouth-watering smells. And did I mention the TVs?

I felt a suffocating bubble of anxiety growing. My mother kept proposing solutions to help me find a place to be, and I started very quickly escalating into my teenage self. “NOTHING IS GOING TO WORK! I AM GOING TO BE MISERABLE!”  I just wanted to call and change my flight to get back to my little quiet office and my little meowing cat and my little coffee shop and my rigid schedules (posted on walls all over my house).

Holidays are stressful. We eat too much. We try to fit too much in. We set high expectations for how we’ll juggle our energy. I’m surrounded by people who took the week off. I have two amazing nephews under the age of 5. I absolutely want to enjoy coffee in the kitchen until it’s time for lunch. I want to wrap presents and decorate cookies and watch Stars on Ice on TV. I don’t have (or I won’t take) that luxury.

My family doesn’t exactly buy my reasoning. “I love you guys, but you don’t understand… I’m at a critical milestone in my business, and I have to keep working.”  I’ve been coming home to visit for years, and I always say that. The last real vacation I took was in 2003 after the abrupt end of my marriage. My parents and I went to Alaska and spent a week on a charter boat with 8 other people. We ran across probably three or four public phones during the trip, and I’d spend my time on the break calling the office.

Thus, when I tell them that I REALLY need to work this time, they say, “Beth, you always need to work.” And they always try to accommodate me. And I always freak out that I can’t get things done.

So I’m now holed up in the little basement office (which is actually bigger than my bedroom in San Diego). My sister just called and is relieved that we don’t have to spend “quality time” together today because she has a billion things to do. My father hooked me up with wireless internet, a wireless keyboard and a wireless mouse. It’s fairly quiet and pretty comfortable. And I’m embarrassed that I merit so much attention when everyone else seems able to go with the flow.

Oh well. Guess I better get to my task list.

Having the same problems balancing work and the holidays? I liked this list for a stress-free office.

Before I became a professional copywriter, way back in the olden days of August, I worked for a company that sometimes suffered from an identity crisis. I would respond to someone’s query with a fairly sincere, “Yes, we can do that.” And then I would go back to the office and we’d say, “Man, how are we going to do that?”

This identity crisis that small businesses sometimes face may have two causes:

1. The business leaders don’t really know what they want to do, and they attempt to be everything to everyone, or
2. The business leaders aren’t representing themselves honestly.

I write copy for several small organizations with tight budgets. They say, “Beth, we need a one-page flyer for our upcoming conference.” I know what they want from me is a one-page flyer with graphics and bullets and their logo, etc. No matter how many times I say, “I can help somewhat, but I’M NOT A GRAPHIC ARTIST,” they still want the graphic piece. And I give it a try for them, pulling elements from their other flyers and their website into MS Word and doing what I can. But I am not a graphic artist, and I say so.

I’m also not a public relations firm. Several clients want me to be able to produce press releases and distribute them to media contacts I know personally. I don’t know any media contacts. I certainly can’t promise someone’s piece will get anywhere. And I say so.

And I’m not an expert in search engine optimization or website critiques. I have opinions, sure. But I’m not an expert. And I say so.

I’m determined to present myself honestly both professionally and personally and to try to avoid my own identity crisis. This fall has been tough in terms of dealing with relationships with people who seemed to misrepresent themselves, starting with the ex-boyfriend (personal), continuing on to a professional acquaintance (professional) and topping off yesterday with a note from a longtime friend who said his girlfriend is intensely uncomfortable with our friendship and he has to stop chatting (personal and sometimes career related).

In these situations this fall and a couple more, I found myself looking at the person in question and saying, “Wow. You’re not who I thought you were.” My resolution is to make sure I stay honest so that neither Avenue Z nor Beth Ziesenis is ever the subject of that observation.

After my search for the perfect holiday card, I went in search of the perfect holiday gift for my clients. For years I helped my former company pick tasteful (and modest) food baskets for our clients. Most of the time we went with Ghirardelli chocolates of some kind. One of the sales reps always said, “They put this kind of gift in the kitchen, and all the other employees come by and say, ‘Oooh, who sent that?’” So we almost always went with the basket of goodies.

I always protested the food gift baskets. I thought they’d sit with the dozen other gift baskets and blend in right away. Our gifts weren’t distinctive enough for a heartfelt “Oooh.” I always wanted to give our clients something more distinctive and meaningful.

In each of my cards to my clients this year, I wrote, “Avenue Z Writing Solutions is donating a Katrina Rebuilding Kit from Mercy Corps on behalf of my clients. Happy Holidays.”

By the way, I ended up choosing the Bloomin’ Flower holiday cards with the removable ornament made out of homemade paper and wildflower seeds.