I’ve taken back my writing and I’m going full steam ahead - this time it’s business.

Knowing that I didn’t make any money at writing last year doesn’t bother me, because last year it wasn’t about making money. Instead, it was about becoming comfortable with being a writer and myself I did that, I think, rather successfully.

However, now it’s time to start to make a living at being a writer, now that I am confident I am one. This is a new area for me, and like all new areas, it’s a bit scary and overwhelming. Sometimes I’m tempted to buckle at the pressure but instead, I’m learning to look at it as an adventure. Because in some regards, it is one.

This morning I had a talk with a friend of mine who also runs her own business. We were talking about at which point does it go from work to hobby, and is money the deciding factor. We also talked about how we were both getting honest with money - that it is important and you have to be realistic. Though, we discovered that sometimes being realistic about money is scary because if you don’t have it, you can feel like you’ve failed.

Although I’ve made some money it’s not near what I want and I know if I don’t start to make more soon I’ll be tempted to discard all the progress, publishing, relationships, and wonderful moments just because I don’t have a penny to show for any of it. I don’t want that to happen, I don’t want to ever think I’ve failed because I’m not rich.

Instead, I want to be able to prove that you can make a living, so it’s time for me to start.

I’ve found a whole bunch of books on marketing and writing for money and will start to buy them as soon as I, well, have money. A new copy of Writer’s Digest had some contests and some leads for writing, and I’ve already followed up on a couple of them. I’m investigating all options with regards to money - selling my artwork, selling books, selling more articles, expanding my writing to write anything. As long as it’s creative, it’s beneficial to me and I’m happy to do it, I’ll do it. I’m not so afraid of taking on jobs or doing other things that don’t have to do with writing, because I’m a writer now and that won’t change. But there’s this thing called survival and sometimes you have to do what you have to do.

Not that I’m looking for a part-time job or anything because I have to see if I can make money at writing first. I honestly haven’t tried that hard before because as I said, money didn’t matter. But with the computer breaking down, the car needing to be replaced and life just happening, money matters now.

And somehow, I just feel able to deal with it all now, and know it’ll all be ok.

Between the surgery, the illness, the vacation, the high school reunion committee, the docent class, and the husband, there hasn’t been much time for writing the last few months.

I find it really absurd to say that, and almost embarrassed to admit it. I the girl who screams that people won’t leave me alone, have found that I’ve been spending more time doing other things than writing, despite the fact that writing is supposed to be my job.

I’ve kept telling myself that after April 27th I’ll get back to writing full time because I know that to be a successful freelancer you have to put in over 60 hours a week of actual writing. Yet because of that time stamp, I’ve also allowed myself to slack tremendously with regards to beginning or finishing any piece of writing.

There are so many day entries yet not completed, the portfolio to update, the travel writing to finish, the newsletter to write, the magazines to query, the book to finish. So much work yet I’ve ignored it all for the most part.

If I were in a corporate job, I doubt I could have taken such an extended vacation or called in sick, yet I’ve allowed myself to do things that have taken away from my job as a writer. That weren’t silly things, they were all important and some unavoidable, but they overtook me. I just didn’t make time to write.

Nothing hit me so clear as when I picked up a copy of The Writer Magazine today, and it featured a big article on how to freelance successfully. It also had a quiz and one of the questions asked was are you willing to put in the time. My answer is yes, although I have had a funny way of showing it.

A lot of email I get is from people who are in 9-5 jobs who wish they could write. I tell them to write whenever they can, between lunch breaks, before dinner or at midnight if they have to. Never forget to write, don’t forget your passion.

I think I need to take my own advice.

This day last year, was my very last day in Corporate America.

I remember the feeling of euphoria I felt as I packed up my generic desk, said goodbye to my cubicle, relinquished my parking pass and walked home. I remember how good it felt to take off my business attire as soon as I got home and know that I’d never, ever have to fix another copier.

I was ready to leave to corporate world and anxious to embrace the creative one. Because I was making such a dramatic change in my life, I saw things as black and white. Corporate world bad, Writing Life good.

At the time, I didn’t have the experience, wisdom, or time to see that seeing things that way was just not fair. I hadn’t had the distance yet to appreciate my corporate job and instead, I used it as an argument.

The truth is, I needed the Corporate World.

My first corporate job gave us stability and money that was crucial at the time. My soon to be husband and I had and I had just driven across country to move to Seattle. All we owned was in our little beat up Toyota. We were also dealing with immigration and a wedding coming up. We had to find a place to live, buy groceries and get established. By landing a job in the corporate world, I was able to deal with all my financial responsibilities.

But that job was more than just financially beneficial. By working in three different corporate jobs I learned skills that have become essential now that I am running my own business. Things such as marketing, sales, communication, time management, multitasking, presentation, responsibility, organisation and yes, how to collate. I learned how to focus, be professional, pull all-nighters, how to ask for what I want and how to get it and most importantly, I learned that I am a fantastic, hard worker.

The other thing I learned, which is perhaps the most important, is that I will do what it takes to survive.

My second corporate job, though in an amazing company that paid me very well, was in fact, horrible. My boss, the Vice President, was extremely verbally abusive. During my 10 months there, 19 out of 23 people in his department had quit. I wanted to leave, badly, but at the time my husband wasn’t working and we had rent to pay and groceries to buy. I didn’t have the luxury of quitting a job I hated to become something less secure. I had to stay in that job so that my husband and I could survive. And we did.

At the time it seemed hard and unfair, but the truth is, it was reality. It was something I had to do to get me where I am today. Without the Corporate World I wouldn’t have grown up and learned certain business and people skills that I needed. Without the Corporate World I wouldn’t have been able to pay rent or help my family survive. Without the Corporate World being a writer wouldn’t mean so much to me.

People often ask me if I could go back, would I have skipped the corporate world altogether? When I answer no they’re often surprised. I did what I had to do, and a person can always learn from that. The only thing I would do differently is to not let the corporate world take over me as it did. I would have tried to find a way to let the writer in me come out, even if only during lunch breaks.

Finally, a space opened up at the Post Office and it’s now official - I have a business address.

Somehow, having a PO Box seems to help me feel like I am now running a legitimate business, rather than just writing as a hobby. It helps to have business correspondence go to a private box rather than directly to my home. This way, the line between work and home is less blurred.

As well, having a box allows me to finally get some business cards, take payment online for my art and not have to worry about missing packages at my door.

It also just gives me a tidier, easy address than my home one, which is a good thing considering all the mailings I’m going to be sending out.

The past several days have been completely useless. Despite the heavy workload and deadlines that are fast approaching, I’ve done nothing. Literally nothing.

I’ve made bogus attempts, sitting at the computer, forcing out garb, but none of it’s been worth anything. I haven’t made any progress because I just haven’t wanted to deal with writing. I’ve been making excuses left and right and sadly, I was happy when the cat threw up all over the carpet so that I would have an excuse to stop trying to focus on writing and instead on cleaning up.

Part of my funk is my still lingering fear of failing. While I’ve made peace with the fact that despite any and all efforts, fear will always been around, I think it’s been more prominent lately. I’ve stepped up, making more demands on myself and writing and going to new levels. I think because it’s uncharted territory I’m scared of it. I’m no longer in my comfort zone. I keep reminding myself that I felt the same way a year ago when I began and look at how far I’ve come now. Still, it’s scary to move forward.

Part of it could also be the weather, having not seen sun since August. Or maybe it’s partly due to my cold or something simpler such as brain rot. Whatever it is, it’s here, blocking me.

At least I know I’m not alone in feeling this way. It looks like over at Loobylu she’s understanding exactly where I’m at. I know this mood will pass, I know I’ll get back to kicking some ass sometime soon and I know that for as long as I’m writing there will be dry spells such as this. I’m learning to deal with them better instead of beating myself up over them, but still, it’s a royal pain in the arse when I have work to do and I just can’t do it.

I never thought I had money issues because I would earn my money by working, I’d put some into savings, some to bills and some to a splurge now and then. Because I was so practical with money and always seemed to have it, I thought I had money all figured out.

I was wrong.

It wasn’t until recently when I read the profile of Emira & Lauren at Another Girl at Play, that I discovered that I had issues.

In their profile they said, “The thing we find ourselves telling people a lot is: Don’t undersell yourself. We’ve found that a lot of people — women especially — who are starting their own businesses don’t create business plans that will pay them enough to live well. It’s true that you may spend a few months, or even a couple of years, building up the business and scraping by (and racking up your credit cards), but you’ll burn out pretty quickly if you can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. Plan to pay yourself what you’re worth.”

When I first read that, it really hit me although at the time I didn’t understand why. I thought I had begun to deal with finally making a living at writing by attempting to get paid, and so I was unsure of why hearing this piece of advice affected me as much as it did.

It wasn’t until a few weeks ago I discovered why. I was still selling myself short.

It’s not exactly a fear of being paid, but it’s defining what I’m worth that scares me. I am a giver - I’ll give anything away and usually do. And because I’d write for free, I have a hard time figuring out what something is worth and being comfortable with accepting payment for it.
buy art

For example, I had the idea to sell two of my most popular pieces of artwork because people had been asking about buying them. I was unsure at first but then as the need came about for a second computer, I decided I could put the money I would make from selling the art towards the goal of buying a second hand laptop.

I tried to figure out a reasonable price for the prints - calculated how much it would cost to print, package and ship them and added in some time and then compared my price to others that sold artwork. I calculated the price of the used laptop I have been eyeing and then figured out how many prints I’d need to sell to cover it. I had a goal, some artwork and some buyers. I thought it would be easy enough to sell them.
But when I created the website, put up the prints, sent out mailings to people, received a few orders, I began to become very uncomfortable. Strangely, it wasn’t the fear of selling artwork (I had been able to get over the issue of not thinking that I could ever be an artist. I realised by the simple fact that I create art, no matter how good or bad, I am an artist) but the fear of taking money for it.

People were willing to buy my prints. They wanted to hand me money. They were ready to give me my asking price without questions. Friends, strangers, family were sending me requests for my artwork. It was so uncomfortable and foreign to me that instead of instantly replying to them on where to send payment, I said nothing at all.

Then I checked up on the laptop I wanted, and it had been sold. Now, I didn’t have a goal I really began to think twice about selling artwork. At least with a goal, I rationalised that people were helping me out or supporting me. Without purpose, I felt like I was somehow being a fake with selling my artwork and was just about business.

Then I realised it is business! I have my own business. I need to make money at my business and that’s 100% ok! People were willing to pay me money for goods and there is nothing wrong with that.

I had declared what my artwork was worth and people responded to that without question. No one asked what the money was for, if I was really worth it or if they could have a discount because they knew me when I was 12. I was the only one who questioned the whole taking money thing and if I was worth receiving it. I was the only one who had issues with business and money. So I got over it.

I’m a business, that’s all there is to it. As much as I love doing this for free, I need to start making money at it. I’m sure that when I do start to make money, no one is going to tell me that’s it’s bad or wrong or who was I to get paid. Instead, people will probably say, “It’s about time you started to get paid for what you’re worth.”

I know that new businesses can take 3-5 years to before they see a profit, and that’s if they have their heads on straight. Mine’s been crooked with regards to money, because I never really thought about it or valued it as much as I need to. I’ve been spending the last year becoming comfortable with being a writer and doing all the head work with that, that I didn’t have time to also investigate the money side.

Now I have the time and the desire, so I’ve decided to become more serious about money by really pursuing paying jobs and being OK with being paid. Then I’m going to treat myself like a business come with business plan, savings, salary and everything else. That’s what will make the difference between writing for a hobby, and writing successfully for a living.

On April 27th, I’m attending my high school reunion. When I first decided to go, I didn’t give much thought as to why. Saying yes was just an automatic response, like I’d go to hell if I didn’t attend. I thought it would be the same for everyone else.

It turns out, however, that a lot of people aren’t going to attend - more than half the class. The reasons were varied of course, but the main one was people were embarrassed to show up. They weren’t quite where they wanted to be and didn’t consider themselves successful enough to show up.

I thought about this for awhile, because I don’t think life is about proving something, or besting someone. I think you do what you have to do, and hopefully it’s what you love.

When I heard how many people didn’t consider themselves successful, I began to question the validity of considering myself so.

I’m not famous by any means and am not actually striving to be a household name. I have yet to be paid so I’m definitely not on the millionaire’s track. There are just a few credits under my belt, and so far I have not heard from the Pulitzer Committee.

The effort I’ve put into my work and myself, might not have materialised into big awards but they have done something. They’ve made me happy and love who I am. And although that might sound new agey and cliché, it’s the simplest truth I have.

I don’t fit the standard definition of success because titles and money aren’t important to me - I’ve been there and felt like a failure. The years I spent in Corporate America, I hated myself. Looking in the mirror I felt like an old, cranky nobody who was living a life they didn’t want on automatic pilot. If I had to go to my reunion being an Executive, I would have felt like a failure, despite the fact I worked for an impressive company, made lots of money and had all the titles you could want.

But now that I’m living as who I want to be, and doing what I want to do, I feel a sense of pride and accomplishment I haven’t felt before. Each day I get up and begin a life that I love. I get to do what I am passionate about. At the end of each day I am satisfied - I feel solid.

I’m not perfect, I’m not finished, and I don’t have it all figured out, but I know who I am and I like it. Everyday. And that, to me, is success.

It’s done. I just typed the last of it and now it’s ready to be mailed out. I am both excited and nervous as hell.

In January I started to transform everything I’d written on the website into a book. I worked overtime learning how to edit, write proposals, market the work, find an agent, and land a book deal. I worked on my book proposal literally day and night for a couple of weeks. But then one day I made a conscious decision and just stopped working on the book completely.

It wasn’t that I had lost interest in creating a book - I hadn’t. And it wasn’t because I was unsure how to turn it into a book - I knew exactly what to do with regards to the business side. But I stopped because I wasn’t entirely sure at that time why I was creating a book. Until that point, I had been doing it purely from a business point of view, and that left the book without personal direction.

So I took three months off from it to figure it out.

When I was in San Francisco, something inside me clicked - the timing to finish the book now seemed so right. I had energy and enthusiasm to finish the sample chapters and rework my proposal. I also finally had an understanding of what I wanted to book to do and how it would end. When I asked myself why the direction and timing seemed right now and not two months ago, I discovered the answer was pretty simple.

Three months ago I was just becoming comfortable with being a writer, with being an inspiration, and being read by people. Three months ago, I wasn’t aware of all that I had achieved or the personal transformation I had made. Three months ago, I didn’t understand that there really was a beginning, middle and a good ending spot for the book, instead I was just on automatic pilot writing it.

However now, I knew exactly why I want to create and publish my book and it was because I was now aware of the journey I had taken to get where I am. Both my book and I have direction, confidence and understanding that wasn’t there when I first began the proposal in January.

With a new understanding, I’ve spent the last week working hard on my proposal - harder than I have worked on anything in my life. I feel that it’s complete and that all I can do now is send it out to an agent and wait and see.

It’s scary; I’m not going to lie. Over the course of creating my proposal I’ve thought about just not doing it, because it’s harder to get rejected if you just don’t submit anything. But I have to trust that my belief in what I’ve done, combined with the focused efforts of creating a proposal, will be enough.

And if it’s not the first time around, there’s always the second.

One year ago I made the biggest, hardest and best decision of my life - to quit my corporate job and become a full time freelance writer.

The day I decided to be a writer full-time, I was filled was with mixed feelings. I was both terribly excited and afraid beyond belief. I knew that by working on my own terms things would be different but I had never done that before and was unsure of the correct way to do it.

I read every book on how to be a writer, because my fear of doing it wrong was my biggest concern. I felt because I had declared so loudly that I was going to be a writer, failing at it terrified me to death. It wasn’t until eight months later I began to get over most of my fears while learning how to just accept the others.

When I started, being published meant everything to me. I thought if my name was in print that every fear or concern I had would vanish - I would be a bonafied writer if I were to appear in a magazine. When it happened, nothing changed. I realised that outside validation doesn’t count if you don’t give it to yourself first.

I also thought in the beginning that because writing was my passion, work would be easy and blissful. The truth is, is that it’s the most work I’ve ever done in my life. Instead of clocking exactly 40 hours a week, I was putting in 60, 70 and sometimes 80. I enjoyed working so much that I would forget to tell myself to take a break. It took me a very long time to learn how to take guilt free time off and realise that I’m only human.

At first, I thought it was just about me becoming a writer, but looking back over the past year I realise that’s the farthest thing. It has been about becoming me.

Now, I’m creative and able to use the word creative without cringing. After being a scared and quiet artist for years who thought everyone was better than her, I am now selling art and working at an Art Museum. I’m excited about the possibility of each day, because I get to decide what I want to do.

Despite struggles and frustrations, I have continued to move forward. I have overcome fears, self-doubt and roadblocks to carve a niche for myself that does something. I have made some amazing friends and contacts. I have published words that have affected people deeply. I have earned respect from those I admire. I have finally been able to define what success is, and it’s not the same definition I had a year ago. Being happy, liking who I am, doing what I want to do, and making a difference in other people’s lives makes me feel completely successful each and every day.

Feeling comfortable with who I am and what I’m doing didn’t happen over night but rather almost a year. In the beginning I was filled with so much self doubt that I often wondered if I was on the right track because I didn’t know how to trust myself enough to know that it was. I was insecure with my writing and didn’t attempt to get much published for fear of rejection when in fact, rejection is only how I learned. I used to try so hard to be an image that I continuously failed at being myself and it wasn’t until I stopped doing that did I begin to succeed both personally and professionally.

I expected to have it all figured out within a couple of months and when I didn’t, I panicked. I forgot to remember that it wasn’t just about writing, it was about trusting myself and sometimes it takes time to figure that all out. Looking back now, I don’t see how it could have taken less than a year, and feel comforted when I realise that most new business take three to five years to start making a profit.

I haven’t figured it all out yet by any means, and I’m not and never will be a finished project. That’s one thing I’ve learned is that there isn’t one place to get to or a levelling off place where you feel like you’ve done it all. My writing and I will always be a work in progress and although that sometimes still terrifies me, it’s also the most exciting part of my life. It’s also the most meaningful because I have made a conscious choice to do this.

A year ago I did the hardest thing imaginable - I acted for myself. I made myself responsible for my own happiness, my own lifestyle and my own dream. I took my passion and turned it into a profession that I wouldn’t want to quit.

I’ve been structuring myself a lot these past weeks. Not with regiments and routines that don’t work, but organising myself in a way that is proving vital.

I currently have so many projects happening that I was beginning to be swamped by them all. I have this website to update and keep fresh, and emails galore to respond to. I have the Another Girl at Play site where I also have emails to respond to, sites to review, PR to do, a newsletter to write and profiles to update. I also have my writing, which currently involves my book proposal, articles to write and some other small projects. On top there is my Docent Class for which I have to write a project and participate in the weekly classes and keep up with all that. That’s a lot for one person, one brain and only 24 hours each day.

So I created a plan to keep my sanity.

The first thing I did was set aside certain days for certain tasks.

Mondays are my email days where I respond to all personal emails, site feedbacks and site submissions on this day only. That way I don’t feel guilty if email stacks up during the week because I know I’ve set aside time each Monday to deal with it. It also saves me from having to worry about it during the week or catching up when I should be writing an article. I’ve also set up auto responders and numerous email addresses to distinguish between whose who.

Fridays are my marketing/promotional days and this is when I work on selling my work, marketing myself and my sites, catch up on business emails that weren’t urgent, update the sites and so on.

I’m also learning to prioritise which is something I didn’t think I had to learn since at my corporate job this was one skill I was constantly complimented on. But with so much going on, and so many things I truly believe are important, I have to really get honest with myself and say what I can do now, what I can do later, and what I can’t do at all. It’s sometimes boils down to me having to be rather harsh and forgoing things I’d like to do, because the reality is, I ain’t Superwoman.

By doing just those few things, I’ve been able to keep my head above water. I can take care of business while still creating and having minimum stress. That is crucial right now because I have the energy, the drive, the passion and the talent to make something of myself and the only thing that could stop me is my own disorganised self.