Getting Over Outsiderism

One of the things I loved about Jacqui Banaszynski's recent guest posts on this blog is how frank she was about the challenges of looking like you know what you're doing and feeling the opposite. In the post on fear of seeming rude when you do the kind of persistence that leads to great stories, she said:

[T]he discomfort with self-promotion is very familiar. The same mother who taught me to hold my own in a sibling tussle also taught me that it’s bad manners to go bragging on yourself. And yes, she taught me to mind my own business, not be nosy, not pry into others’ affairs, etc.

Quite the dilemma for journalists, yes?

I’ve known a lot of journalists in my time who are flat-out hustlers, and I say that with admiration — perhaps even envy. They can charm, schmooze or bully their way into almost any situation and come out with the goods.

Not me. I’ve always believed — sometimes naively — that good work will get you noticed; and if not, good work should be its own reward. I also tend to lean more towards doing what works for the bigger group than for my own “score.” (Studies indicate that may be, in part, a gender-based tendency.)

I bring this up in particular because a coaching client of mine recently admitted that part of her hesitance to query had to do with feeling like she should be at a different point in her career by now. She described her main newspaper job as being with a crappy paper. She's been a full-time mom for several years now. How can she compete, she seemed to be asking, with people like me, who went to journalism school, worked at lots of papers, and is established?

What I told her is similar to what Banaszynski intimates above: Guess what? We all feel like we don't belong.

To illustrate, I told a story:

I went to Columbia Journalism School. Fancy, right? The best journalism school in the country. You'd think we'd all be walking around possessed of a level of confidence not experienced by mere hacks. We were the chosen ones, those who, the school's administrators constantly reminded us, would Save Journalism For The Next Generation.

You'd think that, and you'd be wrong.

Instead, there was a joke in the school: In our yearbook (because, in addition to being journalism nerds we were regular nerds as well), writer and former stand-up comic Barry Lank wrote a humor piece about how he didn't deserve to be at the school: Some guy named Bernie Link, or something, was out there somewhere, wrongly denied his spot at the illustrious school.

It was like the whole school had a case of impostor syndrome.

And it's not isolated just to students. Recently, on a professional freelancers board I frequent, someone posted a question with the title: "Do You Ever Feel Like You Just Don't Know What You're Doing?" The question got 13 responses, often with the reply, "All the time."

So if you're struggling with your right to be part of the group that calls itself full-time freelance writers, I'll tell you a secret. Feeling insecure is almost one of the requirements for admission. Just know that everyone is trying to find the next assignment, the next gig, the next piece of work that's going to make her career path make sense.

We do this job despite the fear, not because we're free of it. Maybe there's some level at which that fear is removed, but I haven't found it yet. I'd be willing to wager that the writer you most envy has his or her bouts with the same insecurities. There's always someone more honored out there to which we can compare ourselves.

So let's apply the serenity principle to this: If serenity comes from letting go of what you can't control and focusing on what you can, then feeling like you don't measure up definitely falls into the former category. It's antidote?
Get into the groove.

Finding and working on a query and a story you love--getting out of your brain and into your subjects' lives will--remind you that, though you may feel like you don't belong, you are exactly where you're supposed to be. The job will start making sense. You'll see that maybe you have something to contribute after all.

It's the thinking about it that bogs us down. So don't think. Do. Whatever's next on your to-do list, just do it. Get excited about your job. As Richard St. John said in one of the TED Talks I posted yesterday, passion and getting into the flow is key to success. Enjoy it.

Photo by TimWilson.

30-Day Marketing Challenge: The perils of self-promotion, part 2

Being creative is one thing. Promoting your creativity is quite another. Yesterday, I took a stab at confronting the fear many of us have that marketing is impolite and pushy. Today, guest blogger Kristen Fischer, author of Creatively Self-Employed: How Writers and Artists Deal with Career Ups and Downs, takes a different tack to Roz Spafford's dilemma.

I understand that so many creative people feel timid or rude for promoting themselves. But let me tell you the truth: If you want to be in business and make your creative talents profitable, marketing is a must. Some creatives I know are just creating to create, so marketing isn’t necessary. But in this case—trying to sell a book—marketing is vital.

I know because I’ve done it. I’ve published two books, Creatively Self-Employed: How Writers and Artists Deal with Ups and Downs and Ramen Noodles, Rent and Resumes: An After-College Guide to Life. The first book was self-published, so I had to do all the PR. Luckily for me, I have a background in journalism, so I at least knew how to craft press releases. The hard part was getting out there, and getting in people’s faces about it.

While that can make you feel presumptuous, it’s important to let go of that perception.

Most of the people you’ll do business with understand that promoting yourself is essential. And if you do it in a polite, non-pressuring way, they’ll want to hear what you have to say.

For my second book, I secured a small publisher. They’ve helped me get access to more valuable connections, but the legwork is all on me. This time, I had to talk to some pretty large news outlets to promote the book. They didn’t think I was rude or arrogant—they wanted to hear what I had to say. When you do PR, especially, it’s important to remember that these people are looking for fresh content. They want an insider interview. Offering one doesn’t make you rude. But you do have to seek out interviews if you want to build a strong platform for yourself and profit from your creative abilities.

The days of being “discovered” are rare and in many cases long gone. We live in a huge world and many people are leveraging things like the Internet, newspapers and magazines to get noticed. So if you want to be in business as a creative, you’ve got to join in. For many that means creating a website and partaking in activities to boost your image and credibility in the field. Again, people don’t do this to stroke their egos in most cases—it’s just necessary to stay visible in a crowded marketplace.

My full-time job as a freelance copywriter means that in order to get projects, I have to let people know why they need me. I’ve never had anyone comment that I was annoying or arrogant; instead much of my unsolicited contact has resulted in more work and strong business relationships.

I am always amazed at how many people marvel at what I do and expect to get the same results without investing in things like a website or business cards. These people don’t take time to network and can’t fathom writing a press release about their latest project. Then they ask me why they’re not doing so well…and in some cases expect me to share my secrets of success. There’s no big secret with me: I’m in business using my creative talents and I treat what I do as a business first and foremost. Otherwise, it’s back to cubicleville for me.

So I’ll say it again: Marketing yourself is necessary if you want to stay in business doing what you love. Find your own way to do it that makes you assertive yet approachable and you’ll see your creative career take off.

Photo by Abulic Monkey

30-Day Marketing Challenge: The perils of self-promotion, part 1

I started this week talking about why you should care about how much your work fetches. But an even more fundamental question comes from writer Roz Spafford:

The hardest thing for me as a writer is the feeling that marketing oneself is rude and presumptuous. I have a new book out (Requiem, poems) but it seems intrusive and self-aggrandizing to be announcing it--even in this post! Though I am always interested in hearing from other writers about what they are doing and publishing, for myself I keep imagining that there are more polite options (perhaps in some dream-past) in which one is "discovered" rather than "marketed!"

Tomorrow, Kristen Fischer, author of Creatively Self-Employed: How Writers and Artists Deal with Career Ups and Downs, will share how to psych yourself up to market despite the feeling that it's rude to do so, but today I wanted to consider this from a more psychological perspective.

Because I've been there.

Isn't it rude to keep bugging editors about your ideas? Isn't it something that only shills and hucksters do? And don't we serious journalists hate it when flacks try to sell us some story we aren't interested in?

Look at those words: Rude. Bugging. Shills. And, most important, "stories we aren't interested in."

Now look at the work you're doing. Do those words fit? Is your work boring? If it is, I can see your resistance. But I'm willing to bet it's not. I'm willing to bet, instead that you're using marketing to beat yourself up. You--and your work--deserve far better.*

Now for the marketing tip: If you can't get over the idea that marketing is impolite, consider thinking of it as helping your client. You don't know: That editor could have been sitting there waiting for a great story. And there's yours. Thank god you showed up when you did! This gets back to my idea that all of us should be of service to our clients as our primary aim.

Robert Middleton of the More Clients Blog is of the same mindset--but he knows many business owners aren't. Recently he asked business owners what they thought of when they heard the terms "sales" and "selling." Guess what? Almost all of them thought of used cars.

"We see selling as a necessary evil," he explained, "something to be avoided at all costs, an undertaking that's rather unsavory, maybe even unethical, and certainly beneath the dignity of a professional service business owner."

Sound familiar? If we think that way, being "discovered" sounds a lot more appealing. But there is another option. In Middleton's wonderful post from last year, he offers an alternative. He calls it Selfless Selling:

Selfless Selling includes these attributes: The focus is primarily on serving the customer; the attitude is one of generosity; the agenda is to educate and inform, and the perspective is that of "win-win."

Selfless selling, he says, requires a new mindset. Here's how he advises you get it:

To discover the spirit of Selfless Selling inside you, here are some questions to ask yourself in any selling situation:

• How can I be of service?
• What do I need to know to help this person?
• What is their current situation and what is their biggest challenge?
• What information would be most valuable to provide?
• What stories would be most useful to share?
• How can I be clearer and demonstrate the value and the benefits?
• How can I make the choice easier?

We can find out the answers to some of those questions by reading the magazine and looking for what kinds of things they like to cover and the way in which they present their information. We can present our queries in the style in which the publication is written. And we can ask editors we meet about their biggest challenges and what's most valuable to them. Heck, some editors will offer that information in a very kind rejection letter.

What do you do when you start feeling like marketing is invasive?


* A momentary aside, because it's my blog and I can: It seems to me that women are probably more likely to fall into this "it's rude to market" trap. After all, good girls don't speak up, don't talk back and don't make a pain of themselves. Even dyed in the wool feminists like myself sometimes shrink from attention and what I perceive to be pushy, obnoxious behavior. Here's a reality check: It's not rude or pushy. It's business. This is why men earn more than we do. They ask for more. Men also negotiate better contract terms and put up with less inappropriate behavior from editors than women. I say it's time to get over it and ask for what we're worth.

Photo by gbSk.

Serenity Check In: Are Your Clients Your Higher Power?

I write a lot about relying on a Higher Power as a way out of the insanity of focusing on things you can't control. But what happens when you make your clients your Higher Power?

I've been thinking about this a lot lately because I'm working on a story proposal that's really important to me and I have an equally important client interested in the story. As I was working up the proposal, talking to folks, I noticed how ravaged I was by the process: Every time a source said something that backed up my premise, I was elated and excited and deeply convinced that doing this story is my Higher Power's will for me. It felt great to be in that groove. But every time someone said something that contradicted my premise, my self-esteem took a nose-dive and my anxiety level went up five octaves.

What was consistent about both responses was that I couldn't work on anything else the rest of the day. I was emotionally drained by it and in the back of my mind constantly wondering what the potential client might say about each of my sources.

Here's what I know is true:

* I can't read my client's mind, no matter how hard I squeeze my eyes shut and concentrate. I haven't yet developed the skill of clarevoyance.

* I didn't know exactly what she was looking for. She simply asked me to gather information, to report. And it's not my job to manipulate the results into whatever I think the "right" answer will be for me to sell the story.

* This is a great, important story. It just is. And if it's not right for this publication, it's not a judgment of me or the story.

What I realized in looking at all these things is that my spiritual life was askew. Instead of thanking my Higher Power for being my muse and guiding me to this story, I was making this editor my Higher Power. Her opinion was more important than anything else, and upon it all my sense of worth was resting.

She doesn't need that responsibility. And it's not very professional. It reminds me of Liz Strauss's great blog post about what she was looking for in a freelancer. The line that stuck out for me was:

Most freelancers I met with were too worried about my approval. The ones I looked for were the once who looked past me to the folks I was working to serve with my publications. That meant they were helping me think through the needs of my audience.

In other words, I can talk as much as I want about how much it's about the story, but what I'm doing when I'm trying to force a solution and making my client my Higher Power is making it about me. I share this not because I'm a glutton for punishment, but because most of us at some point have made our clients into our Higher Powers by wanting their approval instead of wanting to write a story that serves our client's readership. This is a spiritual malady with a real business consequence.

So for the sake of my business and my serenity, I did a lot of work to realign my spiritual life. Every morning, I've been writing the following. I share it with you in the hopes that it may help you realign your thinking, too, if you're in a similar fix:

* I really want to write this story, and I want to write it for this publication.

* I can really really want something and still hand the results over to my Higher Power.

* I trust that my Higher Power will guide me to the right home for this story and hold me up no matter what.

It's helped tremendously. I keep thinking of that line in Eat Pray Love in which Elizabeth Gilbert writes that "God loves you as you." I don't have to be serene and surrendered and needless or wantless to align my will with my Higher Power's. My Higher Power wants me just as I am--passionate about my work, slightly neurotic, excited about this client and really really focused on trying to make it happen, even though I can't. Oddly, that realization lends me freedom, to want all I want, and know that my wanting doesn't require a response. It can just be what it is.

And then, I can get back to work.