Strangely enough, the move comes almost four years to the day since I quit my sales job in a tearful phone call to my boss. “I can’t do this anymore!” I wailed. And when I got off the phone, I said, “Uh oh. Now what?” I was daunted by the idea of looking for a real job (even before the economy tanked), so I decided the easiest thing to do would be to start my own writing business.

It was very, very tough to make the phone calls to those clients, many of whom I’ve had almost since the beginning. It took me several months to finish all the work in progress, and when I pushed the send button on Sunday, there were a couple of tears.

So, here I am again starting completely from scratch on a new career I know very little about. That’s not exactly true because I’ve been booking speaking gigs for about three years, plus the first book is in the bag (and on the shelf — check it out!). But I have to create new marketing techniques, new online strategies, new connections — really a whole new identity.

So before I begin a new chapter, I thought I’d share a pictorial look back at the last four years of Avenue Z:

Now… on to the future as Your Nerdy Best Friend!

So I have all these little efficient things in place that are no longer efficient. This has produced a series of complicated little workarounds that are just downright annoying and time consuming. I’m using a wired keyboard and mouse, and I have to plug them into a USB hub that I use for a thousand things. So I’m forever unplugging one and replugging. And don’t get me started on the printer issues. Because we lost the wireless set up for one of our printers, I pretty much have to go to Kinkos to print something in color from the house.

I’d bet money that you have situations like this in your business…. little roadblocks that you’ve learned to work around instead of fixing. It would probably take half an hour to fix the Live Mesh thing, but instead I take an extra 5 minutes to wrangle files from computer to computer each time I need to sync something. If you add up the time I’m spending, it would be 30 minutes several times over.

Broken technology and little roadblocks are annoying, time-wasting and inefficient. So why don’t we feel like we can take the time to fix this stuff? When I go to print something, I sigh and get grumpy. I do my little workaround and promise myself I’ll fix the problem “soon.” Yet “soon” doesn’t come, and I keep cussing and dealing.

What’s on your business get-around-to-it list? I propose we all set aside Thursday, May 26, as Fix-It Day. Add a comment with a list of the little things you need to fix, and we’ll all commit to setting aside time May 26 (or before) to resolving those little irritations.

Who’s with me?

Ever feel like your life will *really* get started if X happens? For me the X factor is the purchase of an area rug.

Let me explain. A couple of months ago I decided to give up my ocean-view office to move my headquarters into the house. Originally I had moved into a real office to increase my productivity. The off-site office worked wonderfully for a while until I figured out how to find as many distractions there as I did at home. So I decided to save myself a few hundred dollars a month and revamp my home office.

Our poor home office has undergone several changes in the last few years. When I moved in to D.J.’s house, he let me take it over, and I rearranged his big, wooden lawyer furniture to give it a little softer look. Then when I moved out, we moved in a twin bed for a while to accommodate extra company. Then D.J. sold his practice to a larger firm and took the office back over. But he didn’t really use it, so here I am again.

I have big dreams for this room that I sit in for 8-10 hours a day. I have a glorious blank wall to play with, and an unlimited imagination about things I can do. But so far all I’ve done is move one of the big, heavy desks to another side of the room and put up some gauzy orange curtains I’ve had for years.

In my mind, all I need to really make this room into *my* office is to find the perfect area rug. Something bright and cheery with flowers, or maybe a coffee cup, or perhaps even a cupcake! Yes! And once I find this rug, it’ll help me decorate the big, blank wall. It’ll help me determine what cute desk accessories would look best. It’ll make me feel at home.

So sometimes I get lost rug shopping. I can easily spend an hour or two searching Overstock.com or craigslist. I just get obsessed about finding THE PERFECT RUG that will ignite the completion of the office. Sometimes I find a rug that will probably do… but then I dismiss it because it has one too many flowers, or I flinch at the price (a perfect rug should cost about $25, right? Sigh). So I never buy my rug, and I sit in this office that I don’t consider fully formed.

To me this is a metaphor for other decisions in our lives. How many times have you told yourself that as soon as you lose a little weight you’ll really go out there and meet someone new? Or maybe you think all you need is to take the time to REALLY write a good resume, and then you’ll go after that great job. We sit around waiting for some little thing to happen to transform our lives (or our offices) into something more than it is. And in the meantime, life (and work) keep happening.

I know I’m not the first one to write on this subject — probably not even the one millionth one — but I think I need to look around me and accept this office as my own and get on with my life/career.

So, what’s your area rug?

Believe it or not, I am ready. I am prepared. I am exactly where I want to be. This weekend, I synthesized four complicated databases into one, categorized (and subcategorized) more than 200 free and bargain online tools, created a mail merge template, sorted the tools by category, then merged the data into 9 chapters.

Now I need to calmly, coolly, methodically work through the tools in each chapter to produce the nuts and bolts of the book. As I write, I’m going to keep a running list of the tasks that need to be completed in the 2 weeks after I return from the trip, and my assistant and I are on track to click through them to turn the thing in before the deadline.

Holy crap. It’s working.

When I say “believe it or not,” I expect many of you may not believe it. My mother is amazed I didn’t just rush into this and get overwhelmed. I am pretty sure my father has a pool going at his work on whether or not I’ll pull this off. And I’m kind of flabbergasted that I’ve made a plan and am sticking to it.

I expect the next week to be a bitch. It’ll be boring, grinding, exhausting. There’s nothing inherently fun about pounding out page after page after page with a concrete deadline staring at you.

I’m probably not going to dress much. I’m going to sit in a dark condo with just the computer screen glowing. I’m going to keep weird hours, eat unappetizing food, panic that I’m not going to finish, take for granted that I will and waste some time. Oh, and there will be chocolate. You can bet on that. And as soon as I get there, I’ll use Layar, a free tool that people recommended, to map out the location of the nearest cupcakes.

The reason I’m escaping is so that I don’t have to be a girlfriend, a runner, a copywriter, a daughter, a friend or even a friendly human being for the week. I’m going to morph into a moody, intense writer with a sole purpose: finish. the. book.

Although I am dreading the grind somewhat, I’m so excited I can hardly wait for my adventure to begin. I’ve never done anything like this before, and I think it’s going to work. Everything else about my plan to write this book in three months has gone well, and I have no reason to doubt that I can pull this off. Ok, I actually have a THOUSAND doubts, but no real logic behind them!

Woohoo! Off I go….

As of this morning, I’ve written (drum roll, please):

175 words.

Um. Yeah. You read that right. I’ve written 175 words of what will probably be 35-40,000. That means I’m about .05% finished with the writing. And that word count kind of includes the title.

I know. You’re thinking, “Holy crap, Ziesenis. What the hell have you been doing?” Believe it or not, I am exactly on schedule for this thing. For one of the first times in my life, I didn’t just jump into the middle of a project and start writing it from both ends. I created two databases (using low-cost favorite SurveyMonkey) to collect data from the owners of the free and low-cost tools. With the help of my assistant, I’ve contacted about 275 vendors of tools to ask them to fill out the survey, and so far about 75 people have provided clear, concise and critical data to allow me to write up their products. By Thursday I will identify all the important tools that have not yet filled out a survey, and my assistant will visit their websites to find the missing information to enter into the database.

Next week we will download the survey database and do a massive mail merge, placing each tool with all the supporting info on its own Microsoft Word page. The tools will have comments from friends, the descriptions I’ve already written on Cheapskate Freelancer (if available) and all the information I need to methodically clean up and finalize each entry. My writing retreat is the following week, and I’ll hunker down and plow through the tools one by one, then group them into chapters, create a quick reference guide for each chapter, then finalize. After I come back from my retreat, Claire and I have about two weeks to fill in the holes that I will inevitably discover.

I gotta tell you, I’m proud of myself for being this methodical. Usually I’d kind of panic and jump right in, taking one tool and trying to grab info from here and there and everywhere to get it onto one page. I know for a fact that this would take me much longer than the way I’m doing it, and it would be frustrating and exhausting, and I’d feel like I was making mistakes and leaving stuff out. When one paints a room, one should always take the extra time to prep the room by taping off the edges, laying down the dropcloth, moving the furniture. Usually I’m so excited that I just open the can (after barely shaking it, not stirring it) and dip a paintbrush and go from the closest wall right in the middle. Now I’m proud that I’m taking the time necessary to prep the room so that the next step goes easier.

Yet, I fear that the next step will be harder than I imagine. What if each page takes 20 minutes instead of 7? What if the mail merge doesn’t work and I have to cut and paste everything by hand? What if I haven’t left enough time? Or I have a breakdown, or ….

Yeah, well. I have to plan the work and work the plan, and, as of today, the plan is on schedule. As they say, that’s my story.

The entire manuscript, complete with hundreds of graphics, dozens of contributions and about 200 pages, is due to the publisher May 1. That’s 54 days from today. Before I begin writing, I have to collect and organize an insane amount of data. I’ve been very busy with inquiries to free and low-cost tool vendors to get them to fill out forms about their products, plus I’ve been querying professionals about their favorite tools. And did I mention I’ve yet to begin writing? And, for whatever reason, my phone has been ringing twice as much lately with new projects from existing and new clients.

The workload is overwhelming. I’m officially daunted.

Every single minute that I am not working means guilt (including now when I’m taking time to update the blog), but I’m being as proactive as I can possibly be. I put D.J. on notice that most of my workdays for the next few weeks are going to be long ones, and I’ll probably be working every weekend. I’ve canceled haircuts, put off health care appointments, turned down visits and trips with friends.  I’ve warned friends and family that I’m strung tighter than the strap on my g-string after holiday feasting. I’ve increased the cupcake budget, and I’ve hired a temporary employee to cut, paste, follow up on inquiries and organize while I continue writing my regular stuff. She starts tomorrow.

And I’ve taken an extra step, a crazy step, an indulgent step. I just made a reservation for my first-ever writer’s retreat — a week in a nice condo in Palm Springs, CA. My retreat costs almost as much as I will receive as an advance for this book, and I’ll lose my regular revenue because I’ll leave my day job behind. My inner accountant is screaming — this decision does not make financial sense in the slightest. It’s logical to visit either my friend who owns a farm in Iowa or a buddy who lives in a house in the woods of Oklahoma. Both of those locales are more than an hour from a Wal-Mart. But I need to keep weird hours, withdraw from society and be a bitch when necessary. I can’t afford to be friendly or social, and my friends are too wonderful to ignore like that.

D.J. is 1000 percent behind my decision. “This is one of the most important projects in your career,” he said, “and you have to make an investment in yourself to make this succeed.” He’s right. Yet. Still. Umm. That’s a lot of money, and what if I get there and see the blank document as a blank wall? I’ll have wasted all this money, put my clients on hold and will be utterly disappointed in myself.

When my friend Troy was writing his book, he locked himself in the family motor home for several days to work. And he succeeded. Frankly, I think I will, too.

I take that back. I KNOW I will succeed. I have to succeed, and I’ve laid the groundwork to do so. I just need to put in the hours, and I’m ready to crank.

54 days.

As we start a New Year, I think we need to consider making ourselves more accountable for the dreams we have, especially those we’ve always had. How long have you been telling yourself you would like to live a more healthy lifestyle? How many times have you started on the path, only to fall back into old habits? I would bet that each time you try and fail, you flog yourself internally. And the goal stays with you, haunting you even as you try to ignore it. What if you could accomplish that goal and leave that worry behind? What else could you accomplish?

I can’t tell you how long I’ve threatened to write a book. In my second-grade memory book, I wrote that I wanted to be a writer. That means I’ve been holding on to the dream for at least 34 years. It’s time to do something about it. So, I commit to giving it a sincere try.

For the past three days, I’ve been tapping the keyboard on my laptop at the kitchen table. I’ve got a great idea for a mystery series, and dammit, I’m going to get the words down on paper. Today I wrote answers to a series of questions about one of my main characters: where does she live? what does she look like? what does she eat? The more I write about her, the more I want to get to know her, to introduce her to my friends and family so they can enjoy who she is. I thought about her all the way to work this morning, mulling over what she might say if we met or how she might react to all the hardbodies I saw in the gym this morning. I’m actually looking forward to the next time I get to put her story on paper tomorrow.

I can tell you, though, that sticking to this goal is not going to be easy. Each day I’ve sat at the table and stared at the screen, fully convinced I have nothing to say. I’m positive that my dialog is stilted, that I’m relying too much on plot and not on characters, that I’m telling, not showing. I fret that I’m wasting my time because the publishing industry is stilted, and less than 4 percent of writers ever sell enough to write full time — and perhaps the real percentage is even smaller than that. What chance do I have of publishing? And if I do manage to find a publisher, what’s the likelihood that the book will actually become a success?

Logically, I should realize that my chance of being a successful author is so remote that I should drop it. I should concentrate on the status quo, which is actually pretty darn cool. I’m a successful freelance copywriter, a somewhat sought-after speaker and a helpful marketing hand when needed. Achieving what I have in this competitive realm is a rarity, but achieve it I did. So why mess with success?

Because the dream won’t go away. I can’t get it out of my head. If I don’t do it, I’ll drive myself mad. So, let’s hear your dream, your goal, your resolution. Step up with me to declare your dream outloud and COMMIT to making it happen. Because when we free up the energy we devote to worrying about whether we achieve this dream, who knows what we’ll have time for?

Leave your comments and COMMIT with me! We can do this together….

“I have a business card crisis,” I announced. “I am trying to print my new cards with the new logo, and two printers have produced disappointing results. See, this one is too flimsy, and this one was cut too small. And I have 1000 of each! Don’t you think I need to redo them?”

Mario paused, thinking for a moment. “Yes, this one’s a little thin. And it’s so strange that these cards are so small, but honestly — and I don’t mean to talk myself out of a sale — honestly, you’re just being too picky.”

Too picky? Didn’t he see that the cards were not PERFECT? Couldn’t he tell that I was ready to pay yet more money to make everything EXACTLY the way I had imagined it?

Mario continued, “I know these little things mean a lot to you, but frankly, no one else will care. It’s a business card. It holds your information. These are both perfectly acceptable, and I’m sure you can think of better ways to invest in your business that will pay off more than this.”

Ahhh. Mario is indeed wise. Although my new business cards are not PERFECT, not one recipient would look at them and say, “Wow. Bad cards. I’m never calling her.” If I hadn’t talked to Mario, I would have gone to yet a third discount online printer to try to improve on the cards, and I would have ended up with another 1000.

Things I learned this morning:

1. Experts are helpful.
   Talking to Mario and benefiting from his years of experience, I saved myself time and hassle, not to mention more money. Thank you, Mario! (Plus, by talking me out of these cards, he probably earned himself another sale the next time I need to print something.)
2. It’s easy to lose perspective.
   As Mario pointed out — these are just business cards. You get them. You give them. Some stand out. Some don’t. It’s just no big deal.
3. Perfection is tough to find.
   The whole logo and site redesign started because I ran out of the old business cards. I needed to update my address and add other services to my site. Thus began a complete redesign that took several weeks, about a thousand bucks and a whole lot of worrying. And I had envisioned the perfect business card to be the culmination of my hard work.
4. Two thousand business cards is a lot.
   My original business card order in 2007 was for a thousand cards. It took me two years to give them all out. Now I have 2000 new cards. Anyone want one? Or a dozen?

But these days, the statistics tell another story. I still have wonderful, regular readers, but the dropoff has been monumental. Here are the top reasons why…

1. I’m not reading your blogs.
   Oh gosh but we had fun in the old days, visiting each other’s blogs and encouraging, laughing, leaving witty comments. I’d discover and learn to love new blogs from the blog rolls of my favorite blogging friends. But as time wore on and business picked up, I had less and less time to wander the internet for new sites or even stop by my favorites. And in the blogging world, if you don’t give, you don’t get. I miss you guys! I’m so sorry I’ve ceased stopping by.
2. I’m not writing often enough.
   If you don’t write new stuff, people don’t come by as often. If you come by and visit and the same post is up, you move on, and sooner or later, you don’t stop by anymore.
3. I’ve run out of things to say about being a new freelance copywriter.
   These days I wonder if I should rename this blog or simply start a new one. The purpose when I started was to document my first entrepreneurial adventure so others can learn from my mistakes when they start their own business. I’m pretty proud to say that I think I have helped people launch their freelance careers. Even today I get notes from fellow writers who ask questions about how to handle taxes or what I do about business cards or the like. But I’m not really facing new challenges about running my business. And I’m not sure “business as usual” posts are interesting to read.
4. I’ve kind of said it all.
   This is not quite true, but I frequently have ideas about new blog posts on motivation, sticking to a plan, how to be productive, etc. And then I remember that I’ve already covered that in such-and-such a post. And since most of the readers I have today have been with me for quite some time, I have a feeling they’d recognize some of the themes.
5. I’m distracted by other shiny social media toys.
   Facebook. Twitter. Whrrl. I send pictures, messages, posts on the fly. They can be short, and I get instant feedback and lots of it. I designed The Cheapskate Freelancer site so each post is less than 100 words, so it’s easy to churn out a post. It’s hard to get back to writing a daily 500-word post about what I’m doing, since it’s so easy to update the other sites in just a few words.

For all my excuses, I’m truly sad I’m not keeping up any more. I miss interacting and sharing my adventures. My goal is to turn my experiences into a book that will help other budding writers get started as freelancers, and maybe my manuscript is finished.

The email was mostly an ad about their glorious brownies, cookies and cakes, with glowing testimonials by the scrumptious pictures. “Share Your Story!” they said. “Your feedback is our most powerful source of insight about how we’re doing. It is also our best reward!”

They asked me to submit an anecdote of why I love them for their blog. I declined — not because I don’t love them, but because there was nothing in it for me. (Keep reading this post… something in it for you at the bottom!)

I wanted a chance to win free brownies. Better yet, I wanted some free brownies! I wanted some incentive to spend my very precious time to help their marketing efforts.

Lately I’ve become very selfish with my time. When I first started working for myself as a professional writer, I spent lots and lots of time on things that didn’t move me forward. It has taken me a long time to realize how valuable each hour is — how much energy I spend with little 10-minute detours that don’t get me anywhere.

When you work for yourself, it’s easy to lose track of the value of time. After all, we can work on weekends. We don’t feel like someone’s taking advantage of us when we put in a 12-hour day. It’s all for our own benefit, right?

But very recently I did some math that scared me.

• Each day has 24 hours.
• I sleep about 8 hours a night. 16 hours left.
• I workout an average of an hour a day, give or take. 15 hours left.
• Showering, eating, milling about — that’s another 2 hours or so. Down to 13 hours.
• A little breathing time takes up probably 3 hours a day — TV, visiting with D.J., petting the cat. 11 hours.
• Answering email takes at least an hour, sometimes 2. It’s the little things that pile up. “Beth, what do you think of this idea?” “Beth, when can you meet for our next project?” All these notes require a few back-and-forth emails, and they all take time. Down to 8 hours.
• I need to bill at least 3-4 hours a day to make a living. That leaves about 4 hours.
• The 4 hours simply… go away. I Twitter them. I pop on to Facebook. I check our stock portfolio, a meager amount of investments that D.J. and I have fun watching. I’m embarrassed to admit I enjoy watching Yahoo! TV’s Primetime in No Time. It’s silly, but it makes me smile. And I check other stuff. And stand outside in the San Diego sunshine. And people call. And the cat sits on the keyboard. And the time just goes away.

I feel very sad that I don’t feel like I have the time to invest a few minutes for a company I admire. But doing so doesn’t move me forward, and I have to keep my priorities straight. My reaction (which was immediate and decided without hesistation) also gave me insight into my own dealings with people. What I offer has to be worth your time. What I write, what I do, what I give all need to be valuable to you.

On that note, did you sign up for my first-ever giveaway? Tell me your favorite free or low-cost tech tool for a chance to win a gift certificate from Amazon.com!