Chapter 9 • 1990 • Going Solo

Being fired has a certain air of finality. Friday afternoon was the end of one life; Monday morning was the beginning of another. In between, I had reorganized the little room I used for my home office and prepared to test the job market. Despite my best intentions to think before I took any precipitous actions, old habits die hard. In the past, when I was out of a job, I had to find another one immediately. This time, I could afford to take a break, but I had not yet made the mental adjustment to my new reality.

As I thumbed through my Rolodex, I had doubts. One was that no one would remember me; the other was, to find a job at my level, someone would have to die. No one I knew was going to quit a perfectly good job unless they found an even better one, and I doubted there were many of them out there.

I made three discoveries almost immediately. People did remember me, very well in fact. I had been cloistered for ten years. I was amazed at how my peers out in the communications community had kept up with my career. More than one could recite my resume. The second discovery was that while there was a dearth of jobs, there were plenty of freelance projects just waiting for the right writers. Several people told me they would be thrilled to hire me as a freelancer whenever I was ready to start. I had been buried in the corporate catacombs for a long time, which to my mind was akin to being invisible. Not so, it seemed. An aha moment for me—the first of many.

The biggest realization of all was that there was a thriving freelance network functioning just below the radar, and the writers in that network were earning good money! I had been oblivious, but now a whole new set of possibilities presented themselves. What if I couldn’t find a job or decided not to continue looking for a job? Could I earn a living as a full-time, independently employed writer? I had no idea, but since I wasn’t getting anywhere with the job-hunting, freelancing seemed worth investigating.

I put on my researcher’s hat and changed my approach. I asked corporate communications and public relations executives if they hired freelancers and what kind of projects they were outsourcing. I asked writers if they were finding work, who was hiring them, and what was the going hourly rate. It was an eye-opening exercise.

I have a foolproof process for making decisions. I learned it years ago from a book called Psychocybernetics by Matthew Maltz. The short version is to consciously review every detail of the subject—pro and con—until I am on information overload. Maltz called this “feeding the computer” (the subconscious mind) long before computers became part of our daily lives. The key is not to beat the computer to the answer by thinking myself blue in the face, but rather to just walk away and forget about the problem. In the beginning, that was very hard to do.

Now that we know more about how computers work, the process makes more sense than it did in 1970 when I first read about it. Then, it was more an act of faith. What matters is that it works … every time. In the middle of thinking, or not thinking, about what to do with the rest of my life, I tested the theory by taking a vacation. It was out of character, under the circumstances, but when I got home, my decision had made itself. I was going to start my own freelance business.

I had no idea what it meant to “start a business.” I figured I would need an accountant and was lucky to find a wonderful guy who had only recently hung out his own shingle. He taught me the basics: open a separate checking account, keep track of time, income, and expenses, file all receipts, decide on an hourly rate, send out invoices, get everything in writing, save for taxes. Some I absorbed; some went right over my head. But at the end of every month, I turned in my numbers, and he did whatever accountants do and met with me to be sure I was on track.

The tough part of freelancing is supposed to be finding work. Rule number one is always fill the pipeline, so that when you finish a project, another one is waiting in the wings. For a long time through very little effort on my part, the jobs kept coming. I worked on an assignment, finished it, and received my lofty fee of $60 an hour. Then, another job would fall in my lap. So, I had work; I made money; I did all the things my accountant told me do; and I was happy as a clam, oblivious to what it meant to be “in business.”

Sidebar

“A good manager wears many hats: innovator, leader, planner, organizer, liaison between staff and higher levels of management, steward of resources, productivity booster, and developer of people. The latter two roles are the foundation of proficient management, which is, by definition, the ability to meet organization goals through and in concert with others. Over the years, tens of thousands of words have been written about the best methods and techniques for increasing productivity. Management literature has explored everything from the militaristic model to quality circles and self-managing teams. But recent literature has focused more and more on the importance of helping employees grow and develop on the job.”

1992 • Trainer’s Workshop

Years later that I read another little book called The E-Myth Revisited, I understood my mistake. I had what the author David E. Gerber called an “entrepreneurial seizure.” I assumed if I could write for someone else who would pay me, I could write for myself. That is the E Myth. The most important message in the book was this: Running a successful small business takes three people, or one person who can wear three hats: a technician, who creates something; a manager, who runs the office; and a marketer, who has big ideas and grows the business. I was a writer—a technician. Either I had to become a manager and a marketer or hire them. But I didn’t know that then, and even if I had, I had neither time nor money to fill the other two crucial roles.

If I had it to do again, I would sign up for a business course. Instead, I just kept on being a technician, never suspecting there was a better way. Somehow, I did OK for several years—OK meaning grossing about $50,000 a year in writing fees—sometimes less, sometimes more. Those were the good years; there were some not-very-good years in there.

When I glance across my office at the five shelves of binders filled with writing samples, I am amazed at the variety and volume of work I did during those first few years. Corporations were hiring freelance writers for anything that contained words—newsletters, articles, brochures, annual reports, training manuals, corporate identity, executive speeches, audio-visual training, employee benefits programs, and later Internet and intranet websites—a virtual candy store full of tempting assignments.

I didn’t know this wasn’t the way to run proper business. Whatever I was doing seemed to be working fine. Once again, I was meeting and interviewing executives. I was learning about industries as diverse as oil refining, hospitals, machine manufacturing, paperboard packaging, and industrial real estate. I was hiring photographers and designers and acting as liaison between them and company management.

Sometimes, the jobs dried up and disappeared. Corporations with huge magazine budgets moved to other cities, pulled the work inside, or decided they no longer needed magazines at all. Large training or advertising projects were completed and didn’t lead to follow up work. Managers changed jobs and brought in their own people. With each change, I adjusted and reinvented myself, like an actor who had to keep auditioning for and learning new roles.

Sidebar

“What do the waistline and the bottom line share? You may be surprised to learn that both are affected by what and how much your employees eat. Chronic health problems, such as high blood pressure and loss of muscular flexibility, can drive up lost-time and medical costs not only for older workers but for younger ones, as well. The reason is obesity. A recent study by the Rand Corporation indicates that obesity can significantly raise health care and medication costs for overweight people, as well as costs for other health problems, such as smoking. The study notes that some younger people are showing sings of premature aging because they are carrying excess weight that has the same effect as an additional 20 years on the their lives. In fact, the problems usually associated with aging are caused by the body working harder to perform its usual functions. A wellness program could help your workers achieve and maintain healthy weights and improve their overall lifestyles.”

Winter 2003 • Health & Safety News

Two major corporations remained my best clients for many years. For one, I wrote award brochures, training manuals, and a long-running safety newsletter. For the other, I wrote speeches for three CEOs and various other executives, a mission statement and new strategic direction, annual reports, and marketing materials for various divisions. In this best of all possible worlds, I was an insider, an ex-officio member of the senior management team. I knew what was happening behind closed doors long before most managers and employees did.

My unique position allowed me to witness the end of an era. The executive management team was on the verge of announcing a major change in the company’s operational philosophy. It was big, it was important, and it was gutsy. Our team had been working on the rollout for months. Less than a week before the official event, I was called in to a management meeting in the CEO’s office. Everyone looked as if they were about to attend a funeral. Something had died. That was obvious. In a heartbeat, everything we had been planning was off the table. The company the CEO had hoped to create would never come to be.

Some changes take place gradually; others blow people away with no warning. This was the latter kind. According to that morning’s Wall Street Journal, the company had entered into “merger talks.” Those two words—merger talks—hit the team like a bomb, upending plans, wrecking careers, and sending those of us in the room into a state of shock and grief. I was no longer a member of the inner circle. There was no inner circle, anymore.

A vacation? What’s that?

I’m leaving town, something I do infrequently enough to make it newsworthy. I’d love to say this is an exciting business trip to New York or San Francisco, though frankly flying is such a pain these days, I can’t imagine how a business trip could be exciting. I’d also love to say I’m going somewhere exotic to sit on a beach and sip marguerites, but alas it isn’t that either. The truth is I’m going to visit my daughter, and I plan to work a good part of the time. “Travel light,” she suggested. “Just bring a carry-on.” I laughed. “My entire office is packed in my carry on.” The rest of my belonging are in the heaviest suitcase I’ve ever owned. What was I thinking?

I have told all my clients that this will be my chance to catch up on their projects, thus raising their expectations en masse. “I won’t be distracted,” I insisted, though that may not be entirely accurate. First, there is Milo (the wonder dog), who is the real reason for my trip. If you have ever read one of my blogs, you know all about Milo, so I shall spare you the superlatives.

Second, there is the pool, which is right outside my room; and though I cannot bring myself to swim at home, I cannot miss my daily swim on these annual trips. Third, there are “plans,” apparently lots of them. My daughter keeps sending me e-mails saying how would you like to do this … or go there  … or eat at  … ? And they all sound like fun, so, of course, I say yes. The only thing that augurs well for getting any work done is that my daughter and son in law both have jobs. Of course, my daughter plans to come home for lunch to be sure I’m not lonely. Fitting work into my busy schedule is going to take some planning.

The question is why do I take enough electronics and files with me to keep me busy for life when what I really need is to do nothing? Because I have commitments to my clients. Because I am incapable of doing nothing. And, because I am a workaholic. It’s not that can’t relax. I have also brought half of library of books with me to read during down time.

Years ago, a very good friend told me there are two kinds of people in the world: those who work to live and those who live to work. He was the former; I am obviously the latter. What would I do if I didn’t work? Who would I be if I were not a writer? It is not chic to pose those questions, especially on line (I am assuming here that millions of people are reading my blog), but since bloggers have implicit permission to be candid and truthful, I’m just putting it out there for all the world to read.

Frankly, I don’t have answers to those questions. All I know is that what I do for a living is what I do for fun, for relaxation, for an outlet, for a diversion, and on and on. At this point in my life, I’m not sure I would change if I could.

 

 

 

 

Wearing My “Manager Hat”

I went into business for myself because I wanted to write and be my own boss. It was a long-time dream; the timing was right; and I was sooo ready. So, I took the plunge, having absolutely no idea what I was doing. That was a mistake. If I had it to do over again, I would know what I was doing before I found myself doing it.

Here are some of things I didn’t know:

• For every dollar that came in I had to put aside a certain percentage of for taxes. My accountant told me the amount could range from 30 to 50 percent, depending on my tax bracket. That meant for every three dollars I earned, I could spend two or possibly only one and a half. Those taxes had to be sent to the IRS every quarter before the fifteenth of the appropriate month.
• I already knew I was supposed to keep track of every expense, but I had no system for doing that. I either needed to create such a system or have my accountant do it. For years, I paid my accountant the extra money to do bookkeeping I could easily have done myself, if I had bothered to learn how.
• There was also, of course, the matter of tracking the time I spent on each client’s job and being sure I charged the correct amount. That meant deciding on an hourly rate, making sure the client knew what it was and agreed to pay it, buying and learning to use a time and billing program, and remembering to send invoices regularly and follow up when they weren’t paid. Every item on that list was its own individual nightmare.
• Then there were contracts, which I had no idea how to negotiate, write, or enforce. Consequently, there were holes in my contracts big enough to drive a jeep through. As for enforcing them — well, that was a joke. I tried Small Claims Court a few times before I found out it was an even bigger joke. (See Small Claims Court Revisited)
  
• Finally, there was the whole matter of determining whether or not I was making a profit and, if so, how much. To this day, I have no idea how to calculate that, so I never have.

The bottom line is this: I “went into business,” if you could call it that, like a kindergartner enrolling in college. I didn’t ask the right questions because I had no idea what questions to ask. I learned every lesson the hard way, often the very hard way. Some lessons I did not learn at all because, once again, I didn’t know there were lessons. Don’t ask me how; but, somehow, I have survived for 20 years. Much as I love what I do, though, managing the business has always been the toughest part for me.

What would I do differently if I could start over? In terms of wearing my manager’s hat, just about everything. The very first thing I would do is sign up for a small business course at the community college or one of the local universities. There are many such courses available, and I should have taken at least one. Learning to manage a one-person business is not like learning quantum physics. It doesn’t have to be the very hard way. It doesn’t have to be a mysterious or frightening. From what I hear, it could actually be challenging, growth promoting, profitable, and fun.

I have a little trouble with the fun part, but it’s possible, I guess.

Biz Basics for Writers

I just found some notes from a presentation I did a while ago for a group of aspiring writers. I shared the stage with my accountant, Jonathan Becker, CPA. The notes, taken in my particular brand of shorthand, are filled with great advice for owners of “creative” small businesses. That definitely includes freelance writers. The suggestions are still relevant, so I’m going to pass them along without embellishment.

• Bill by the hour. Bill for every single hour you put into your business.
• If a client isn’t willing to pay you for what you do, you probably don’t want that client anyway.
• When you raise your rates, don’t grandfather your old clients. If you do, you will begin the resent them.
• There’s a rule in accounting that every three years you should dump the bottom 20 percent of your client list.
• When you figure your hourly rate make it three times your expected or hoped-for income. Add to that 40 percent for what it costs to run the business. Divide that figure by 2,080 hours (working hours in a year), and that is what your hourly rate should be.
• Set up your books. Get help from your accountant if you need it.
• Creative people need to know how to reconcile a checkbook.
• Creative people should have a feel for what’s going on inside your business.
• If you’ve been business for two or three years and are going nowhere, it may be time to look for a job.

How to set up your business entity:

• Sole proprietor (on your own and doing business)
• LLC (Limited Liability Corporation limits your personal and family exposure) Set up your LLC with an attorney, and register with the Missouri Dept. of Revenue.
• Add umbrella protection to your homeowner’s policy.

Income tax:

• Fifty percent of incomes goes to taxes.
  
• Deduct anything that pertains to your business: Internet access, website, magazine subscriptions, supplies, equipment, consultants, accountants, attorneys, and so on.
• Any items deducted reduce taxes by 50 percent.
  
• Work with your accountant on what to deduct.
  
• The IRS does very little auditing at the small business level.

Marketing:

• Get on TV or radio to talk about what you know.
• Follow up on every lead.
• Return phone calls that day.
• Respond to e-mails.
• Identify your market. Network. Join groups.

Basic? Yes? Important to your financial success? Also yes.

Love/Hate Relationships

Being a freelance writer is all about relationships — relationships with editors, agents, clients, designers, photographers, printers, computer experts, interview sources, and other writers. It’s an understatement to say that such a career requires well-honed people skills and that developing and sustaining relationships are essential to success.

“Love/Hate Relationships” not only covers both scenarios, it captures the ambiguous nature of our feelings towards those who pay our “salaries.” I hope you have encountered at least one or two clients or editors who fall into the too-good-to-be-true category. When you do, you probably pinch yourself, simply because they are such a rare breed. These are the people who return phone calls, respond to query or marketing letters, respect your work, pay you what you’re worth time), and try not to make unreasonable demands. They are all candidates for sainthood, in my opinion.

At the other extreme are those who are rude, arrogant, disrespectful, demanding, unrealistic, over-controlling, and penny pinching. Working for them is stress squared because they leave you feeling diminished and drained. On the bright side (yes, there is a bright side), as a freelancer, you do not have to do business with people like that. You can turn down the job at the outset; address the problems when they surface; and, if you choose to, resign from the project. My feeling is that, no matter how much you think you need the money, nobody needs it that much.

When I was a full-time employee, I can’t even count the number of times I bit my tongue, compromised a principle, or tolerated unacceptable behavior from a boss; because, I told myself, I didn’t want to risk my livelihood. Jobs like mine were not that easy to come by ... I had two children to support ... I would never live down the humiliation ... and on and on and on. Getting fired was the worst possible thing I could imagine; and then, one day, the worst possible thing happened.

Amazingly, I did not die; my children did not starve or become homeless; I did get over it; and I felt free for the first time in my career. The worst possible thing turned out to be the best possible thing. One of the reasons was knowing that I would never again remain in an abusive situation. I knew there would always be another assignment, another client, or another job, just around the corner. In the last 20 years, I have had to test that assumption on more than one occasion. I have walked out of a meeting; I have confronted a client who was way out of line. I have even stated, unequivocally, that I found the person’s behavior unacceptable and, if it didn’t stop, I would leave immediately. It stopped.

These, of course, are worse-case scenarios, but they illustrate the underside of freelancing. Not everyone you encounter will be professional or even civil. Some people are very difficult, if not impossible, to work with (See Solving People Problems (Amacom) for an entire book on this subject). But nowhere is it written that you have to grin and bear it. You don’t.

In between these two extremes are the people you are more likely to work with or for. They are neither saints nor villains; they are just regular folks. They run the gamut of quirks and personalities, good days and bad, consistency and professionalism. For the most part, you won’t love them or hate them. You may develop relationships with them, or you may never get past being seen as a “vendor.” You may admire some things about them and dislike others. And you may even put up with less-than-optimum working conditions from time to time. But that is the reality of the world of work and certainly of freelance work.

Years ago, when I was working for a large corporation and having a particularly bad day, I was crying the blues to my printing salesman. Finally, he shrugged and said, “Well Bobbi, that’s why they call it work and not sandbox.” I've often thought of having that put on a banner and hanging it over my desk.

It Takes a (Virtual) Team

In my dream of being a freelance writer, I could picture myself conducting interesting interviews, attending stimulating meetings, and sitting alone at my computer for many hours, doing what I love most. That was as far as my dream went. If I ever gave a thought to how I would manage finances, client relationships, or the myriad details of operating a one-person business, I don’t remember those things being part of my fantasy.

I confess that I made the same mistake many creative people make: I believed that if I could earn a living as a writer working for someone else, I could do the same thing working for myself. It’s a flawed concept in that writers and artists and people who bake the best cookies in the world may be masters of our respective crafts, but that is only one-third of the equation.

If I had taken courses in how to run a small business, I might have learned that earlier, but, alas, I did not. I just plunged in and began without having any idea of what I was doing. At first, I was very lucky, landing great corporate clients an earning nice fees. It was a heady experience, proving that I had made the right decision.

It is 20 years later (amazing!), and here is what I have learned, with the help of a dog-eared little book called The E Myth Revisited by Michael E. Berger. The E myth is exactly what I believed when I began: if I could do something well, I could run a business doing it. I was, and am, what Berger calls a “technician” — not too glamorous a label. To be a successful businessperson, I also had to be a manager (to run the business) and an entrepreneur (to dream big dreams and grow the business). In other words, every one-woman band really has to be a three-woman band. If I’m not strong in all three roles (and who is?), I must hire people who are. Right. At those times when I was barely scraping by, hiring two other people wasn’t a very realistic idea.

Fortunately, one learns or one perishes. Some years are better than others; some things are more fun to learn than others. I will never like accounting or collecting money. On the other hand, I have grown to love marketing, especially Internet marketing. I have continued to expand the other two sides of my virtual team because I know that, while I’m busy turning out prose, someone has to let the world know I’m here, buy stamps, send out invoices, file the endless reams of paper I generate, and dream those big dreams.

The Fifth Edition: Five Times Tougher Than the First

The good news is that my little book, How to Write a Nonfiction Book: From Concept to Completion in 6 Months, is selling on Amazon and my website. The other day I counted my remaining copies and realized it is time to start thinking about the next edition. That’s about all it took; I haven’t thought about anything else since then. The seed was planted.

So, I packed up my new MacBook and went off to my latest dog-sitting gig, full of ideas for what I might add to the content. It seems the longer I teach, the more I realize how much I have to learn. The article sites I contribute to are goldmines of information, new perspectives, and advice on how to get from your first book-thought to your first book-signing. I read other people’s wisdom and find myself newly inspired. There is so much to share with aspiring authors who buy my book or sit in my classes.

Every time I revise what was once a pretty thin eight-and-a-half-by-eleven-inch workbook that focused primarily on how to write a book proposal, I add more to the other key aspects of writing, publishing, and promoting a nonfiction book. There are so many good books and so many experts, it’s a bit intimidating to publish what I want to say. Yes, it’s true; even veteran writers feel that way!

The first questions I ask myself are what do authors want to know? What are my students, clients, and book buyers asking me, and have I answered their questions in this book? I look for gaps in the text, and I find them. Why do I have to write a proposal? Do I need an agent? How do I find one? What should I send to a publisher? What is involved in writing a memoir? What’s the difference between POD publishing and self-publishing? And on and on.

Yesterday, I received an e-mail from a member of my writers’ group with her query letter to a publisher attached. “What do you think?” she wanted to know. “Let me get my thoughts together,” I wrote back and immediately set off on a research and writing journey that culminated in an article, as well as a new section for my book. This was undoubtedly much more than she ever wanted to know; but, when I tried to answer her question, I realized I didn’t really know enough about book query letters to do so.

The first edition of my little book was easy as pie to write; the second a little more difficult; and so on. It has taken me five editions to realize that the best way to learn about your subject is to write about it. I am dedicating this book — if I ever finish it — to my writers group, students, clients, and book buyers. Thank you all for continuing to ask questions I can’t answer without some serious thought.

Rethinking the Business Model

I have been in business for close to 20 years, and I must admit that for most of that time I have led with my heart instead of my head. I often give away the company store, so to speak — advice, information, time. All of that equates to money, money I never see because I don’t bill for it.

I trust people. I believe they are sincere and well intentioned. When they ask me what a project will cost I tend to underestimate and over deliver. It’s the perfectionist gene I guess. Everything I do must be the absolute best it can be. I never seem to figure that into my estimates.

I am never prepared for the instances when clients simply don’t pay. In fact, I am blown away when it happens. I have actually taken people to small claims court, only to discover that, even if I win the case, there is no enforcement of the verdict. Sometimes, the client is so illusive that the process server can’t find him. (The next day of course he is seen at Starbucks having a grand old time)

Teaching at the community colleges is not a get-rich-quick scheme, either. They pay $20 an hour — a teaching hour. That does not include preparation, materials above and beyond what the school will copy, gifts or meals for speakers who generously donate their time and talent, custom-made bookmarks, and parties at the end of each session. Money is obviously not the motivation for teaching.

I have friends who are sharp business people — right brained, practical, cautious. I promise myself that I will become more hard nosed and tough. Then, someone calls (who knows a friend or found me on Google or is on my website that very minute), and I cave in, forgetting all my promises. I answer their questions, share my knowledge, and get cauliflower ear from holding the phone. When I hang up I wonder if there is some deep psychological reason beneath my inability to say, “You know, the clock is running” or “This is what I charge for consulting.”

It may be as simple as having a mission, which, in my case, is to help writers write. On the other hand, many successful people have a mission and still manage to charge people for their expertise. Generosity is a lovely trait; being foolish is not. I think it was Einstein who said "If you keep doing what you've always done, you're going to keep getting the same result." (If he didn't say it, he should have.)

I think it's time to do things differently and see what the new result might be.