With three bags of groceries in hand, I exited my grocery store a couple of days ago. A handsome young man stepped into my path. “Hi, do you want to save the environment today?”

Grrr! This was a guy from Greenpeace, I think, and they wanted me to sign something, donate something, volunteer for something… I don’t know exactly, because there’s nothing that turns me off more than someone infringing on my time, getting in my face to sell me something. I get phone calls all the time that start, “Hello, Ms. Z [incomprehensible proununciation]. This is [name] from [one of a billion charities with my phone number]. How are you doing this evening?” They proceed to start talking so quickly about whatever critical need they have (“This issue is about to go up for a vote, and we desperately need your assistance to get the word out!” or “Now more than ever these children need your help!”), and I politely try to wait for them to take a breath to tell them to STOP CALLING!

I try not to get angry at the caller or the pollster — after all, this person is just doing his job. But I can get sincerely furious when I rush to get the phone only to find a salesperson or fundraiser trying to get my attention and my money.

As a business person, I face the challenge of how to sell my services without bugging people. I would literally wilt if I ever made a phone call and someone said, “Thank you, but no. Please take me off your list and stop calling.” I would hate to be considered intrusive and obnoxious. I tried cold calling a couple of times since I started my business, but for the most part I rely on letters, postcards and email to reach out. I think they’re less invasive and more easily ignored or stopped if people don’t want to hear from me.

The problem is that people cold call and finagle a face-to-face meeting because they work. It’s simply my personal bias that makes me so resistent to these approaches. For example, I was very interested in an offer I received in the mail from an email blast service. I had them on my desk to call, but then they cold called me, and the guy was aggressive and irritating. “Please take me off your list,” I said as I tossed their flyer.

But that’s just me. Like I said, calling works. Walking up to people in an exhibit hall works. But you have to choose a marketing method that makes you comfortable as well as your prospective clients. If you hate receiving that kind of approach, chances are you’ll suck at making that kind of approach.

I rocked the Seattle Marathon. I ran 26.2 miles in 5 hours, 2 minutes and 5 seconds — faster than I had ever run that distance in my life. I’ve heard only one percent of one percent of the world’s population will ever run a marathon, and now I’ve run three. That is a success.

My regular readers are probably confused. About a week ago I wrote a post that began, “I blew the marathon.” But the concept of failure is pretty subjective in the area of personal goals, isn’t it? I mean, if I keep running and working and trying really hard but never qualify for the Boston Marathon, would I have to put “She was a nice lady but didn’t ever make it to Boston, so you decide…” on my epitaph?

My point here is that no one is living or dying because of my marathon time. I’m the only one interested in interpreting it as a success or failure, improvement or slip. People are interested in the time or the event because they like me, perhaps, but I’m not the only American running in an international competition, with the country’s collective self-esteem riding on my shoulders. I’m trying to come to the same conclusions about my writing.

A few weeks ago a literary agent told me my first book should be on an intensely personal topic about which I have unintentional expertise. “When you write that one,” he said, “We can get you on The Today Show.” Ooohhhhh….. was coffee across the couch from Matt Lauer far behind?!? I was all aflutter. And this book will help people, I reasoned. I need to write this book — to give others the strength to overcome their own adversity. It’s my duty! It’s my calling! It’s Matt Lauer!

I dived headlong into book plans, mapping out a strategy to put together a book proposal that would knock socks off. The first step was to get more clips in this particular subject area, so that’s where the essay came from. I asked for help with a critique, and five generous souls volunteered.

Ack! Ugh! When I saw the list of people who asked to read it, I flipped out. I couldn’t possibly show it to Mr. Moses! What would he think? And a family friend?? I’d be horrified! All these nice, wonderful people want to share with me, and I’m petrified.

I sent it to the first three readers with explanations and apologies and much apprehension, and then I started to think. Why do I have to make myself so uncomfortable and unhappy for the sake of helping mankind (and meeting Matt Lauer)? If I never write this book, will anyone care? Yes, I think people would relate to my story, but do I have an obligation to the world to share it?

Um, nope. Just like I don’t have an obligation to the world to qualify for Boston. I think writers feel the need to produce something from the dark pain they experience, and certainly some of the best books are honest, unflinching accounts of painful moments we can relate to. But do I have to fall into that category? No. Or maybe not now, not for this topic.

Sure, I’ll keep working toward my own personal goals with my running and writing, and I’ll keep having my own tiny little triumphs and defeats along the way. And I can share them or not, but only if I’m comfortable with that level of exposure. If not, I can keep my own little secrets, and no one will be worse for wear.

PS — Stop speculating on the topic — I didn’t do anything illegal, and I’m just fine these days.

Ever feel like a furious ant, hopping up and down alone in a corner while no one pays attention?

I helped build a website for a client, and we launched about 4 months ago. From the beginning, the stats weren’t working correctly. Here’s a summary of my correspondence with the project manager.

4 months ago — Me: Hey, stats aren’t working. Project Manager: Be patient. It takes a while.

3.5 months ago — Me: Hey, stats aren’t working yet. PM: I’ll look into it.

3 months ago — Me: Hey, any updates? I’ve been doing research, and the following things are wrong on your end… PM: Silence.

2.5 months ago — Me: Hey, I have to have an update. PM: The techs say everything is installed correctly. The problem is on your end. Me: No. It. Is. Not! Here’s why! (lengthy email with info). PM: I’ll look into it.

[Repeat last conversation 2-3 more times with lengthy silences in between.]

1.5 months ago — PM: For the third time our techs have verified that everything is installed correctly. Please check the settings on your end. Me: For the umpteenth time, here’s proof that it’s not installed correctly! PM: I’ll look into it.

2 weeks ago — Me: HEY! It’s been a month! This is completely unacceptable. PM: Silence. Me: [Call to PM's Boss] This is unacceptable. PM’s Boss: I will get you an answer right away.

Last week — Me [to PM and PM's Boss]: HEY HEY HEY! It’s been another 2 weeks! Did you not hear me say this is unacceptable? PM and Boss: Silence.

Yesterday — [My client sends one email and makes 2 calls]. PM: Beth, we have repaired all your statistics. Please let us know if you need anything else.

***

My client sends one email. He calls and rips the PM a new one and asks her to ask the boss to call him. By 9 p.m., all my issues are repaired, despite the fact that for 4 months the company (through the PM) had been telling me that the problems were on my end. I spent hours doing research and writing emails to tell them exactly what was going wrong, and I swear they didn’t read any of them until the client got involved.

I’m still trying to figure out why they didn’t take me seriously. I remained professional but insistent the entire time. I followed up repeatedly. I even did all the homework for them to show them where the errors were. Nothing. It wasn’t until my client (who can be a real tough SOB) gets on the phone that things happen.

Is this because I’m a woman? Is it because I’m the marketing manager and not the actual client? Should I have launched into full bitch mode weeks ago? I kept my client fully aware of the challenges, but I asked him not to get involved until I tried my best to resolve it without reaming someone (my client is famous for reaming vendors). I knew that once he got involved, there would be blood, and there was.

UGH! Why didn’t they just take me seriously? Now, although I’m sure that they’re going to be much more responsive from here on out, we have a giant gap in our relationship. I like people to like me (I find I can get more accomplished that way), and my PM is certainly not ever going to like me again. I guess it’s not imperative that she does, but I certainly don’t trust her and I certainly don’t want to reach out to her for assistance on the site. The whole situation has, in my opinion, compromised the service I can give to my client, and it could have been resolved so easily (the problems were actually addressed and repaired in 3 hours).

Grr.

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about an essay I was writing. After quite a bit of cussing and whining (and that was before the marathon), I finished a 2000-word piece I want to sell to a major women’s magazine.

With the exception of the magazine editor who rejected it so far, no one has read it. I would dearly love objective feedback on the piece so I can firm it up and make it super-duper for publication.

Would you take a look? Great! Please choose your feedback from the following list of approved responses:

• Beth, oh, honey, I was so touched by your experience.
• Beth, this is perfect. I can’t think of a thing you need to fix.
• Beth, this is about the strongest essay I’ve read in my life.

Here’s my problem… I’m so connected to this piece and it’s so personal that I can’t bear to share it for a critique. What if you tell me it doesn’t make sense? What if you think it’s long and rambling? Short and confusing? Annoying and self-serving? I want to approach a couple of my profs from journalism school to ask them to help me shape it up, but I’m petrified of what I’m going to hear.

This, of course, is ridiculous. I make my living helping businesses polish their initial ideas and first drafts into strong copy they can be proud of. I know first hand how important an objective review can be. More often than not, I’m the one who walks around with a red pen on a project, suggesting, “Gosh, this is good. And if we rearrange this, it’ll be better!” I know I’ve unintentionally hurt feelings when I come in and completely overhaul a piece that an in-house staffer poured sweat and tears into. I work very, very hard to be respectful and gentle, but I remind people that the better a piece is written, the more effective it’ll be.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I can say that to others, but I sure as heck don’t want to hear it. This is one of the reasons I hesitate about writing a personal book. When I write things that are this honest, it’s painful enough already. I can’t possibly imagine someone plowing through it to find mistakes, missteps and disorganization.

Err. That being said… I know it has to be done. Dear readers, may I call upon you for an honest critique? I’m going to buy some big girl panties from Victoria’s Secret, so I’m ready to hear the truth. Just drop me a note if you’re interested. No, really.