A room with a view

With my office feng shui still in process, I have temporarily relocated to our third floor. (I’m managing quite nicely on a small desk with a couple file bins and reference books — why did I need a better office again?) I love it up here because it’s bright (from 2 skylights and an opaque arched stained glass window) and warm (so far, anyway). I hate it up here because it’s a cluttered mess, complete with cast-off furniture, unpacked boxes from our move 5 years ago, and 4 bulky unfinished cubby doors waiting to be installed. Oh, and occasionally a mousetrap or two in the eeves that need to be…emptied.

It does have a charming, though amusing, view out the one small window:

Who put that pole there? And does anyone know a good pole climber? I’d love to tack a pretty little decorative doodad or an inspirational message smack in the middle of it.

What no wife of a writer can ever understand is that
a writer is working when he’s staring out of the window.
~ Burton Rascoe

 

They really do call it work for a reason

I know I should be using my downtime at work more productively, so I set out to be productive. It took a while to whittle down my e-mail inbox and sent folders to under 400 each, but then…then it was time to do something real. But what?

Then I had a thought. With more than 15 years as a business marketing writer under my belt, I should have something to say about the topic that would be useful to people involved in marketing their business. I should have a few (in the lingo of my clients) “lessons learned” and “best practices” to offer. So, why not do what I do best — write — and share what I know about it in another blog, a professional one this time, attached to my professional Web site.

After some trial and error (and some help from Support), I managed to figure out the logistics of setting up another blog on WordPress and keeping my dual identities separate. But now…now it’s time to do that other part. The writing part.

I love writing this blog. It’s fun, it’s therapeutic, it’s something I look forward to. If I don’t have anything to write about, I can wait a few days. No pressure. If the writing’s not perfect or inspired or even grammatically correct, oh well — I’m writing for fun, not fame or fortune.

Writing a blog for work, however, is turning out to be just like work. I have to figure out exactly what lessons I’ve learned that might help someone else. I have to figure out how to relate those lessons in a way that’s concise and interesting, not judgmental or preachy or sarcastic. I have to write like I do for my clients — like a professional writer who gets paid to put fingers to keyboard and make something make sense.

So, with all that in my head, I’ve yet to finish my first post. I figure I better have a few posts done before quietly “launching” the blog with a link on my Web site. The same DIY Web site I scrabbled together several years ago in FrontPage that desperately needs updating — and I haven’t a clue how to do it.

Downtime suddenly feels more like overtime.

To think too long about doing a thing often becomes its undoing.
~ Eva Young

Remembering my big break

I got an unsolicited e-mail yesterday from someone I don’t know, asking for my help. This time it wasn’t a Nigerian prince needing to transfer funds. It was another local writer, fairly new to the biz, seeking to network and get a little advice. He must have gotten my name from one of the online Pittsburgh “creative” directories. His e-mail sounded sincere, and legit. I didn’t worry about checking out his site to see what he had posted (school projects, he cautioned), and hoped I could offer some words of wisdom.

I’m always ready to help a fellow writer, especially someone just starting out. My own “big break” came in one of those door closes-window opens moments. I was losing my job as an administrative assistant at a local nonprofit. I had just bought my first house a few months earlier, so now had a mortgage and home ownership to contend with. I was 26, and panic-stricken.

A coworker — older, wiser, very much a woman-about-town — knew I loved to write and suggested I contact someone she knew who was a principal in a local graphic design firm. “Use my name,” she said. At that point, I’d done a fair amount of writing on the job, including editing the organization’s newsletter, writing an employee manual, and ghost-writing for my boss, but I had very little to show in the way of a portfolio. I really had no business asking for a job as a writer at an established, successful firm.

But I did anyway. I was shocked to get an interview out of my query letter, and intimidated the second I walked in the door — an artsy, industrial space in a converted factory. I distinctly remember thinking, “I can’t work here. People who know how to draw work here.” It was the strangest interview, with all three principals gathered around a conference table asking me atypical questions (e.g., “What are you reading?” Fortunately, being unemployed, I had time to read and could actually answer. Naming a nonfiction book to boot, which I practically never read [and probably only half-read at the time]. My boss later told me my answer had impressed him. Talk about lucky.)

They took a chance on me, and I spent four great years there learning more than I ever had in my life. I left there for my next job thinking I could write anything. And then I learned a ton more at that job — in corporate marketing, so a very different environment. After several years there, I decided to take the plunge and work for myself. I’m still learning how to do that well.

So here I am. A lotta years later. Grateful. Experienced. And ready to “pay it forward” by sharing what I know with a newbie.

Except…I didn’t really like what I saw. Out of 15 or so projects (all ads), only 2 or 3  impressed me.  I didn’t see a real spark. Some good concepts, but not great execution. OK, so “student projects” explain some of that. But the writing itself was so-so. And this from someone 10 years out of college (with an English degree) and having taken a couple years of copywriting courses along the way.

I so wanted to be encouraging. But I had to fall back on the old, “If you can’t say something nice….” So I’ve said nothing.

Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I don’t get his stuff because I’m not an “ad gal,” didn’t grow up in an agency, and wouldn’t want to. It’s another world, and not one I favor.

I suppose I could try to offer some concrete advice — Here’s what I see. Here’s what I think could be better. But I don’t really think that’s what he’s looking for. He has what he has, and he wants it to lead somewhere. I don’t know of any other classes he could take to learn how to write brochures or do technical writing (another request). I can’t say, “Try calling XXXXX. They’re looking for someone.”

So, for now, the best I can think of, on the advice of another writer friend, is to recommend a basic and very helpful book on breaking into the freelance writing biz. I’ve recommended it before, but feel bad I can’t do more. I know how lucky I’ve been in my career.

My big break all those years ago made all the difference in the world. I hope someone out there has the right advice (even hard advice like, ummmm, maybe this just isn’t the career for you) to give him one too.

Those who have succeeded at anything and
don’t mention luck are kidding themselves.
                                                   ~ Larry King

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