Last month the notable blog TechCrunch issued an apology to its readers:

On Monday evening I received a phone call from someone I trust who told me that one of our interns had asked for compensation in exchange for a blog post. Specifically, this intern had allegedly asked for a Macbook Air in exchange for a post about a startup.

After an investigation we determined that the allegation was true. In fact, on at least one other occasion this intern was almost certainly given a computer in exchange for a post….

We are all shaken here at TechCrunch – this is someone who was our friend and who we trusted to be honest with our readers. Our hope is that the intern learns something from this experience and grows into the kind of person that will be more welcome in this community.

I apologize to each one of you. I promise that we will always maintain complete transparency with you on how we operate, even when it isn’t such an easy thing to do.

TechCrunch discovers and reveals the latest technology news, products and services. I’m sure they’re offered goodies all the time, and their policy is to turn everything down (or at least I think it is — perhaps they accept products to try them out for review). But in general, there is much discussion about the ethics of accepting free products or services in exchange for a review.

In case you haven’t heard, I’m writing a book of reviews of my favorite free and low-cost online tools. Now I, too, have to deal with an onslaught of free offers. I have written to more than 100 companies to ask them for information about their products, and multitudes — scores, even! — have written back to offer me free upgrades to the full versions, etc. Oh, the temptations!

Ok, I’m lying. There have been only three. But I’ve accepted them all. (Ok, four if you count that a client of mine who has a tool offered me an upgraded account for life.) Should I turn them down? My reasoning is that I should be able to evaluate the full version and tell readers whether the upgrade is worth the money. The funny thing is that if I feel like an upgrade is worth the money (and the money is still what I would consider a bargain), I’ll upgrade myself if it’s a tool I’m likely to use a lot. I’m all for supporting cool tools and compensating those people who add such value to my life. But, of course, I can’t upgrade on everything, even if I love it. That would make it impossible for me to wear the “Cheapskate Freelancer” crown.

But between me and you, I bet everyone who offered me an upgrade will make it into the book. Although I hope this isn’t true, I may feel a certain level of obligation to them.

So, my questions are for you, dear readers… do you think less of a company that offers to upgrade or give something for free (none of them have asked me to do anything special)? Do you think I should turn them down? Would you consider my book biased if you knew I received upgrades? Should I simply disclose it in the intro (which no one ever reads, right?)? Or perhaps just mention in the write up that “the owner upgraded my account so I could take a look around the full version”?

Oh, and another issue… people are already asking me for free copies of my book. How should I handle this delicately? I get a certain number of free copies, but the rest I have to buy at a fairly modest discount. I’ll be doing giveaways with the book, but I can’t possibly gift it to all my colleagues. Yet I’ll feel a little silly asking people to pay for it. Dilemmas, dilemmas. Oh, the problems of famous authors, right?

Note to vendors who want to bribe me: For clarification, I will write anything you want if you buy me cupcakes.

For the second year I’m hosting the Avenue Z Virtual Food Drive (you HAVE to see the new cool site. Click here and Pledge!), and I’m hoping for TWICE the donations as last year (click here for the original story). Since I’m stepping up the publicity and the goal, I figured I better step up my efforts to get the donations. So last night on my way home from work, I stopped a few blocks from home to go door-to-door.

As always, I’m amazed at people’s generosity. Strangers bid me welcome into their houses, asked me to sit and rummaged through their cupboards. It was pitch black outside, and they didn’t know me from anybody, yet with little effort on my part I collected 4 bags of canned goods.

In one home, a woman invited me to sit as she searched for donations, even though she assured me she had given and given and given and probably had nothing left. “But I don’t want to send you away empty handed,” she said.

I chatted with her and her daughter for a while, and then the woman’s eyes lit up. “Oh goodness. I’m helping you, and maybe you can help me!” she said when I handed her my card. “You are a speaker, right? Well I run a group, and we need speakers every month….”

Lo and behold, I landed a speaking gig! Ok, so it’s a talk to the octogenarians at the Ladies’ Friendship Circle at the nearby Presbyterian church, but still!  The president said I’d probably be bigger than their bingo nights! Almost every time I go out to give a presentation, I end up with more business and more speaking engagements. An opportunity is an opportunity.

As the sole employee of Avenue Z Writing Solutions, it’s easy to isolate myself from others. Even though I now have a beautiful office of my own, I still come to work alone, spend most of the day alone and stay in my box. But I’m working to expand my network of business and personal connections. I recently joined a networking group called the San Diego Coastal Professional Group, which is comprised of local business owners of all types (including my new printer, Mario from SDPrint.com). We meet for breakfast once every two weeks to share education, encourage referrals and, well, eat breakfast. The dues for the group are minimal, and I’m hoping my efforts will really pay off. I want to put down deeper roots here in San Diego, both for myself and my business. And almost every time I reach out, I benefit.

PLEASE, please, please  stop by www.avenuezfooddrive.com to pledge to give to a local food bank. We’re looking for FOUR TONS of food donations to food banks around the world!

This morning I paid a visit to my friendly, neighborhood printing store (PB Printing), where Mario the manager was on hand to listen to my latest tales of printing mishaps.

“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?

About 2 years ago, I attended a workshop on how to write electronic newsletters. I exchanged cards with a guy I’ll call Paul because I can’t really remember his name.

We actually corresponded a couple of times in the first month after we met, but I really don’t know Paul. I don’t need to buy anything from Paul. None of the people I know need to buy anything from Paul. But I’ve been getting Paul’s electronic newsletters about once a month for 2 years. And, in today’s world of furious networking, I feel obliged to keep getting Paul’s newsletter. I fear that if I sever the connection to Paul by unsubscribing from his newsletter, I’ll make Paul feel bad, or I’ll miss the opportunity of a lifetime because I no longer have his contact number to make an important connection for my business.

I’ve gotten to the point where his email (which just arrived) in my inbox makes me wince. I haven’t opened one of them in at least 20 editions. They just sit there and make me feel guilty for hating them. Perhaps you have to have grown up in a Catholic family to understand my guilt, but I hope you get the point.

The same goes for other vague connections I’ve made. I receive invitations to become a fan on Facebook for a company whose owner I met once. I get requests to contribute to fundraising for causes I don’t necessarily want to support, sent by people I’ve corresponded with a half dozen times. And I feel an obligation to keep all my connections, to support all efforts by independent people with gumption — because wouldn’t it be great if they supported me?

Is that what social networking today has led to? We’re all running around trying to scratch backs with hopes that we’ll have our backs scratched when we need it. Are we all afraid of losing the ability to be an important spoke in an important hub, so we stretch our network as far as the eye can see and never “defriend” anyone because we may need them later? Or is it just me?

I even feel uncomfortable writing this blog post. What if Paul reads it and recognizes himself? What if a casual connection feels slighted and doubts that I’m a real friend? And a bigger question…. how can I (we) expect to be real friends with everybody? I have 224 connections on LinkedIn, 1907 followers on Twitter and 179 Facebook friends, and I’d consider myself a moderately successful networker. Is this really all necessary to live, work, date and play in today’s society?

(Err… PS — feel free to reach out to me on any of the three networks — the more the merrier at this point, right?)