Writing Out Loud

I am sitting in my office staring at my desk. Well actually, I can’t see my desk. All I can see are file folders, opened mail, unopened mail, projects in various stages of completion, scribbled notes to myself, books, and computer equipment. It’s a mess, and I am on overwhelm. No doubt about it; I have a few too many plates in the air.

Yet, instead of trying to figure out what I can eliminate, I am musing over the impossible, completely irrational notion of trying to juggle one more plate, and not just any plate. This one is more like a platter. I have been struck by the desire to write another book—not a ghostwritten book for someone else, but a book for me. I have obviously lost my mind, but that doesn’t make me banish the idea to the recycle bin so I can concentrate on earning a living and managing my life.

The problem with wanting to write a book is that it’s like an itch that will drive me crazy until I finally give in and scratch, which in this case, means thinking through the questions I ask every would-be author who tells me he has a great idea for a book. Like my students and coaching clients, I don’t want to suffer through the preliminaries. I don’t want to complete the mandatory sentence, “My book is about …” I don’t want to answer ten questions that will tell me whether my idea is viable. I don’t want to organize little file folders on my hard drive before I do anything else. I just want to plunge in and start writing. What that tells me is, if nothing else, this could turn into a great exercise in empathy.

Why is the itch so persistent? What is so enticing about this particular idea that I must write it? And who am I hoping will read it? I don’t know the answer to the first question. Perhaps it is just the right time to do it. The right time, of course, has nothing to do with having time; it is more about knowing I am ready to write and making time. What I have discovered over the course of my writing career is that when I’m ready, there simply is no stopping it from pouring out.

I’ve been playing around the edges of this idea for what seems like years. My book will be a memoir of my life as a writer—40 years of learning, growing, and, reinventing myself to meet the changing needs of the marketplace. (OK, that takes care of the dreaded sentence!)

Every time one of my students says, “I want to write about my life or my unique experience,” I take a deep breath and wonder who will read it and why they would want to. I have to ask the same question of myself. Who is the audience, and what is the benefit? It’s a tough question, but so are the other nine I ask every student and potential client. When we add up the answers, we have an abbreviated book proposal. Besides being able to explain what their books are about, most of my students really resist the whole idea of writing a proposal. They argue, they stall, but eventually they realize they are going to need it for at least a dozen reasons.

I seem to be addicted to writing about writing. My last two were on how to survive and thrive as a freelance writer and how to write nonfiction book in six months. In the first case, I have survived (and pretty much thrived) for four decades; in the second, I honestly have written books within that six-month window. But I’ve never done it in public, so to speak, with people looking over my shoulder.

So, this will be a first-time experiment in which I will try to “talk the talk and walk the walk” (I’ve never liked that saying). I am going to sit here with my book next to the computer and go through the process of planning, writing, publishing, and promoting my nonfiction book just as I teach others to do it. And I am going to do it on my blog, The Writing Life.

Why in heaven’s name would I do something so crazy? First, because I can’t figure any way to juggle one more plate, so I’m going to combine book-writing time with blog-writing time. Second, if I am going to keep telling people to trust this process because it works, I have to prove it. Well, I don’t have to, but, frankly, I find it irresistible to try. And, third, every author needs a support system, and I am hoping you will be mine as I venture into the uncharted territory of writing out loud.

(Not So) Secrets of a Great Website

After years of having what is known as a “billboard in the middle of the Sahara desert”—a website nobody ever saw—I finally did something right. I created a website that does what it’s supposed to do: inform, educate, help, and attract people. I certainly would never claim to have done this alone. I had a great deal of help on the technical and marketing side from an expert who brought me from dark ages into the 21st century.

Change takes place on the Internet faster than the speed of DSL, sound, or light. I am not technologically gifted, to say the least. Nothing about computers, the WWW, RSS, SEO, web design, blogging, podcasting, tweeting, getting around Amazon, or even writing on someone’s wall in FaceBook comes naturally to me. It is not intuitive; it is learned. Then, as soon as I learn something, it becomes obsolete; and I have to learn something newer, more sophisticated, and usually more complicated. It’s a daily battle, but a necessary one if I am to remain competitive in my field.

My website could certainly use improvement, I know. Yet, bells and whistles don’t seem to be the criteria Web surfers demand. The question is what is it that garners good ratings in the search engines; encourages casual visitors to click on links and read articles; e-mail with questions about book coaching, ghost writing, and editing; sign up for a newsletter; or add a book to their shopping carts.

Here are some of the lessons I have learned along the way. An effective website should do the following:

1. Have a clear, consistent theme.
Does your site have a single identifiable message? Will readers get it immediately or feel confused by too much variety? Web surfers have short attentions spans. If they are overwhelmed, they will move on.

2. Be easy to find.
Search engines find your site in many ways, but the most important is keywords. If you want Google or Yahoo to know you can help write or publish books, your site should be liberally sprinkled with keywords, or clues, that lead them right to you.

3. Be easy to get around once someone finds it.
Nothing is as frustrating as being lost in a sea of words and pictures and having no idea how to find the information you want. Your website should not be a scavenger hunt; it should be a transparent map that takes you directly to what you’re looking for.

4. Make sure your links work.
Almost as frustrating as being confused about content is, knowing exactly where you are and where you want to go, clicking on an obvious link, and finding there is no such page, or you ended up on the wrong one. Check your links often.

5. Convey your professionalism, trustworthiness, and credibility.
What does your website say about you? Of course, you would like it to shout out that you are good at what you do, you have experience and expertise, you are the expert the reader has been looking for. How do you do that without actually saying all those things? There is a rule in creative writing classes: show; don’t tell. Make that your mantra.

6. Establish a relationship with the reader.
Web 2.0 is all about relationships. It is no longer a one-way monologue; it is now a dialogue between you and your visitor. Your website is a way to say, “Hi, I’m __________. Let’s get to know each other. What interests you? How can I help? Let’s interact.”

7. Answer the WIIFM (what’s in it for me) question.
This should not be news to you: Your website is not about you; it is about your readers. What do they need and will they find it here? What is the benefit in terms of information, entertainment, enlightenment, or take-aways? Why should they hang around a while?

8. Add new features or update information frequently.
Think about yesterday’s newspaper. It may still have uses, but keeping you up to date on the latest news isn’t one of them. Things are happening in the world and in cyberspace. “Inquiring minds want to know.” So does Google, which thrives on new material.

9. Be packed with useful information.
The Web is the world’s biggest library, the encyclopedia of everything you could possibly want to know. When you stop to think about it, that’s pretty amazing. So, where do you and your little website fit into that enormous picture? You are a source of information someone is looking for. It’s up to you to provide as much as you can.

10. Give stuff away FREE.
Don’t hide your light under a bushel. Let it shine. Then, offer it to your reader. You will make a friend or at least a grateful Web surfer who will return. You cannot give away too much. You know more than you think you know. What good is it if you don’t share it?

11. Avoid being an obvious commercial for products or service.
Few things are more annoying than searching for information and finding, instead, one long ad for something to buy—a training program, a series of videos, books, tricks on how to increase traffic to your blog … you get the idea. These sites have lost sight of rules and 9. Be packed with useful information and 10. Give stuff away FREE.

I didn't learn these common sense rules early or easily. I read them; I heard them; I observed them on other people's websites; and, often, people gave them away for FREE. What a concept.

Knowing When to Say When

I never say no when someone asks me if I can take on a new project. After all, I’m marketing myself half to death so that clients will call or write or e-mail and ask me to ghostwrite, edit, or coach. Why would I say no? Well, one reason is that often, I simply don’t have time to tackle one more thing.

All of the above — ghostwriting, editing, or coaching — are time consuming; and time is finite. There are only so many productive hours in a day and, unfortunately, not all of them are spent doing things for which I will be paid. I can’t count how many times I’ve calculated the number of hours I have left for work after I sleep, eat, put myself together in the morning and take myself apart at night, work out, grocery shop, run errands, run my business, run my life, go to appointments (doctors and others), clean my house and do laundry, and read. Not many. I’ve tried to figure out what I could omit, and all I can think of is reading. But would life be worth living? I don’t think so.

Supposedly, we have 2,000 hours a year considered work time, but that’s a myth. Even people who work for a salary do not work 38 hours a week. They may be at some location for 38 hours, but they sure aren’t working all that time. They’re having coffee breaks and lunch, kibitzing with fellow workers at the proverbial water cooler, talking on the phone (not necessarily on business), reading the paper, staring into space, or just generally goofing off. I know this is true because I used to have such a job.

As I consider my workweek, I notice it includes nights and weekends and, even at that, I never seem caught up. As I flit from task to task, I am convinced I must be A.D.D. or just disorganized, but whichever it is, I frequently feel frenzied.

So, I have begun to rethink the never-say-no philosophy. For one thing, I can’t do everything; for another, I don’t even want to. There are subjects that turn me on and others for which I am totally unsuited. There are assignments that will pay for groceries and utilities for half a year, and some on which I will never come close to breaking even. There are people I fall in love with at hello and those who send up red flags that warn me to run, not walk, to the nearest exit.

The secret is what the secret always has been: when in doubt, tune in to the Jury of the Deep and heed the verdict. If there is really a good reason to accept the job, do it. Otherwise, politely refuse and get back to work. Could it be that simple? Well, yes. It could, and it is.

Stop the Background Music

My father used to dislike the word “bored.” So, just to be contrary, I had my boyfriend paint a sign that said in huge, mock-typewriter letters, “I am bored.” Today, as I was going on and on about my latest project — a PowerPoint presentation — my sister remarked, “Well, at least you’ll never be bored.” I guess as long as there are new subjects to write and new ways to write about them, she is right. I won’t be.

I fall into bed at night, or rather escape into it, just to stop working. Not that all those words on my computer screen are necessarily work related. Many of them are just busy-ness that pass for work but are really play. If I billed for every hour I sit there, hunched over my keyboard until my muscles scream, I would be a wealthy woman. The question is what do I actually write?

Well, there are e-mails; blog posts; “tweets” and postings to various other social networking sites; responses to comments on my blogs or website; articles for online article sites; other marketing-related “stuff”; replies to requests for information on coaching, editing, and ghostwriting; plans and handouts for teaching; some volunteer efforts; and notes to go with mailing labels for my books. Of course, none of that includes anything to do with my other life (what other life?). If there is time left over, I do actual work.

There is something amiss here. Once upon a time in another life, my husband walked in the front door of our apartment and was bowled over by a blaring stereo. “Bobbi,” he remarked (at the top of his lungs), “don’t you think the background music is a little too loud?” Well, yes, it was, and it is. All the things I spend prime time on (did I mention addictive reading?), added together, comprise the background music of my life. And they are taking a considerable chunk out of my waking hours.

Of course, they are not all a waste of time. One must market, and many of those activities are part of marketing. But many are not. If I can design something, even if it’s totally unnecessary, I’ll spend hours designing it. I will play on Photoshop. I will illustrate things that could well remain un-illustrated. You get the idea.

This begs the question: Why? I’ve been pondering the answer all evening, and I think I have figured it out. If I don’t keep my fingers and mind occupied every single moment, I’m afraid I’ll be bored.

I wonder if I should send this to my sister, who is unlikely to stumble on it if I don’t. But, first I have to proof it; then, I have to find some clip art to illustrate it; then, I have to post it on my blog; then, I have to send it. Whoops!