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 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!

The funniest story of the evening was told by a woman who wrote about going to the bathroom at work and having her boss sit in the stall next to her. People often talk about the Seinfeld where Elaine was in the bathroom and ran out of toilet paper. Well, the story told on this night was ten times funnier.

Awesome, right? I’m on top of the world. He asked me to post the whole story in the comments, and DimeStories went on to post the audio on the home page of their site. Awesome, awesome, awesome!

Now here’s the problem… My mother is mortified I wrote the story. It makes people squeamish. When people laughed at it during the reading, their eyes were wide and they covered their mouths with their hands in embarrassment. It is an oh-my-god-is-she-really-saying-that story. And I read it with all the gusto it deserves, which makes it even more atrocious.

So, here I am a professional writer with my own successful business. Do I keep news of my fiction away from my clients? Would they approve of a freelancer who writes copy for their website one minute and off-color fiction the next? Isn’t this like the female police officer who moonlights as a stripper? I’m really torn. Frankly, I love this piece. It makes me laugh, and it doesn’t make me uncomfortable at all to read it aloud. And I can’t tell you how excited I am that it’s gotten so much attention.

My gut feeling is that my present clients wouldn’t mind — in fact, they may get a kick out of it. They’ve known me for a while, and they know I’m a little off. I even sent it directly to a couple of them because I thought they’d laugh*. In addition, I truly hope to one day (soon?) make a living writing my own stuff. But I just sent out a massive mailing to try to solicit more clients. If they root around online and find this piece, would that be a turnoff?

It’s kinda too late now to ask that question. The story is out there, and my name is on it. If there are consequences, I’ll have to live with them.

For your uncomfortable listening/reading pleasure: “The Best Laid Plans of a Professional Meeting Planner”

• The audio (funniest)
• The published version (I love the comments)

*Neither of the clients I sent it to have written me back. Err.

I’m at it again…On February 28, 2010, I will run my 5th marathon, this time the Mardi Gras Rock & Roll Marathon in New Orleans. Frankly, I can’t figure out why I continue running marathons*: my knees hurt; I love the couch; no one wants to see me in spandex; … I could go on and on. But I can tell you why I keep running them with The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society…

…. My madness can make a difference.

Speaking plainly, cancer sucks. By running to raise money to find a cure, I’m contributing to the research and support The Society gives to people with blood cancers. Mom is fighting thyroid cancer, and last year was more difficult than I could have ever imagined. I hope with every mile I run, with every dollar I raise, I can prevent other families from having to suffer.

Please don’t let my madness be for naught. If you enjoy hanging out here on Avenue Z and listening to the ups and downs of a professional freelance writer, please consider a donation. I’m asking for at least a buck a mile – that is $26.20 – to help find a cure. I’ll do all the running, but you’ll know you’re a part of the efforts. To donate, please visit http://tinyurl.com/Marathon5.

Thanks in advance for your support. Wish me luck!

Beth

Wait… ain’t got much dough this year? You can still help.

• Use my shopping portal to make your online purchases, and the stores will kick back a donation at no cost to you!
  —> http://bethz.mytnt.org
• Order a great cup o’ Joe at Jittery Joe’s, and I receive $3 for every can of TNT Blend you buy!
  —> http://tinyurl.com/BuyGreatCoffee

* Ok, you and I both know why I run marathons… it’s to support my cupcake habit.

Since then I’ve sent out probably 10 or so other campaigns — emails, letters, postcards. The ROI has been dismal, yet I keep trying new things. I’ve *never* gone back to that successful campaign tactic.

This, of course, makes no sense. When a small business owner discovers a strategy that produces amazing results, why wouldn’t she keep doing it until it no longer produces?

The problem stems from one of my weaknesses as a small business owner and as a professional in general: I get bored. Yeah, that worked. What else will work? How can I be even MORE clever? What else can I do that will catch the eye of a potential client?

I’ve been plotting another huge letter campaign to announce my new look, services and website. Oh boy did I have some great ideas about promoting Avenue Z! I’ve been so excited about the prospect that I haven’t stopped to think about the potential ROI. Is it a good idea to send hundreds of “look at me” letters to a general audience, or would my time be better spent identifying more people in that original pool of contacts and sending them an updated version of that successful letter?

Dang. You’re right. I’ll be a good little business owner and take the more traveled path.

“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?

Please help me find the look that best represents what Avenue Z has become…

Vote on the four logo finalists here!

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 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.

-Walter Wellesley “Red” Smith

After my visit with a literary agent, I developed a clear idea of the book I want to write. I need to write a killer book proposal first, which means I need to build up my writing credentials to make it look like I’m the best person to write this book.

So I started a personal essay that I’m pitching to national women’s magazines. I’m thinking 1000-2000 words. Given that I write at least 500-2000 each day for clients, I figured I could just knock it out. After all, I just need to write my own experiences, right?

Holy crap was I wrong.

I already had about 800 words of another piece that I could use for a starting place. I went to a coffee shop Sunday to slam it out. One hour, two hours, three. The work just kept expanding. I returned home to keep working. Four hours. Five. After the sixth hour my eyes were blurry. My butt was numb. I wasn’t finished. And I was flabbergasted that writing my own stories was so difficult.

As a professional writer, I compose articles and marketing copy all the time. But now that I’ve been spending time writing my own stuff, I realize that I make my living more assembling the content than creating it. I interview people for profiles, so they provide their own content. I use facts about a company to write web pages, adding keywords from a list for search engine optimization. The chunks of information I need to do my job are either handed to me or fairly easy to gather.

But when it all comes from me, it takes more time than I ever imagined. I have to work to pull memories, struggle to capture them correctly, fight to find little details that will illustrate points. And I have to write it so that my voice comes out — which means I have to *find* my voice.

As a business person, I’m weighing the ROI per hour spent on different types of writing. The ROI on business writing is pretty darn good. I can easily write a 500-word press release in 1.5 hours and get paid in two weeks. The ROI on personal writing, be it fiction, nonfiction narrative or business book writing, seems to suck. I spent a good 15 hours total on 2000 words, and I haven’t come close to selling it (though I did get a “good” rejection already). It’ll probably take me weeks of research and waiting to find the market — at least another 5 hours of work. That’s 20 hours for 2000 words, with no guarantee that I’ll ever get paid.

Err. If I had studied accounting, the answer would be clear. Dang my nagging need to write for myself!