reclaiming wife

Posts Tagged ‘Entrepreneurship’

{Me in a new vintage dress on work retreat. Not posed! By Emily Takes Photos}

I’m writing this post from a train, on a thirteen hour trip to LA, which pretty much sums up the month. Constant motion. Working while in constant motion. Needing a break from plane travel. Last month I talked about how in this break between writing and launching the APW book, I needed to find balance. And in a rookie self-employed-person mistake, I let my little bit of downtime be sucked into the vortex of travel (some work, some personal, but it hardly seems to matter when you’re counting the number of days at home before you need to leave again).

So this month was a muddle. It was getting away from the computer and actually making things with my hands and spending time with my co-workers (more on that mystery project in a bit). It was planning for my book release (which takes way more energy to do right than you’d like to imagine). It was bringing on and training a new staff member. It was finally doing the work to Incorporate. (Practical Media, Inc.! BAM!) It was traveling and traveling and traveling.

But during an often exhausting month, I kept coming back to why I do this, how we keep ourselves grounded, and how we externally and internally perceive success.

The other night, we went to see Hot 8 Brass Band. Which. Was. Awesome. (Obviously). Somewhere in the middle of second-lining my face off (if there is an opportunity to dance, I will do it. David finally just shoved me toward the New Orleans natives in the aisles, and I left him behind to shake my ass.) I looked up, and thought about how much those musicians had to love what they were doing. Actually, I specifically thought about how hard it must be for them to be on the road all the damn time, breaking in audiences that are reserved and don’t want to dance, and then playing their hearts out. And I thought about how all that getting on and off the plane, or train, or tour bus boils down to those two hours on stage.

And for a moment, I was really grateful to my art school education (which is a 180 from my 20s spent being profoundly bitter about my art school education). Because between growing up around a community of artists, and going to crazy naked performance art art school, my professional life revolves around the concept of “The Work” (a concept that totally made me stabby in college). The idea is that, The Work is hard, The Work sometimes makes you batshit, The Work is something you have to show up and do every goddamn day even if you don’t feel even slightly like it… and in the end The Work is also your joy and your salvation.

And for me, right now The Work is writing. And secondly, it’s about composing and publishing weeks of content around a theme, and cultivating community. And if I didn’t have The Work to come back to, if it wasn’t the center of my professional life, then all this traveling and scrabbling and running a business would quite possibly have driven me out of my head by now. But if I don’t write for a few days, or a week, I get this crazy hungry look in my eye and start composing essays in my head, or on napkin scraps. And that’s a hunger I can build a professional life around.

But more than that, I’ve been thinking about perceived success. Continue reading Working For Yourself: Month Ten (The Work)

This morning, we introduced the newest member of the APW staff, Submissions Editor Maddie. Now that you guys are through your whirlwind of excitement (Who am I kidding? You’re still excited!), Maddie is here with her first post as a staff member. Long time readers will remember her lazy girl wedding two years ago, and now she’s back, writing about what she learned. She’s writing about how sometimes we do need to sacrifice dreams for our relationships and how instead of that being anti-feminist, it can end up being the most empowering thing we ever do.

Growing up with my ill-paired parents, I got used to hearing conflicting messages as a kid. My mom and dad (separated well before I was born) disapproved of most of each others’ parenting lessons, but there was one they could agree on: Getting married one day would be a perfectly fine option for me, so long as it didn’t compromise my bright, shiny future.

It’s not that getting married was a bad thing exactly—it’s just not something I was ever supposed to aspire to. I had much bigger fish to fry. And if fate would have it that I should get married, I was not to let it hinder my bright, shiny plans for success (to become Jodie Foster if my dad had it his way; Oprah Winfrey if my mom had hers). Furthermore, it was made very clear that if I were to get married, my success would have to be despite that relationship, and most certainly not because of it.

I’d be like that surfer girl who kept surfing even after she got bitten by a shark; marriage could set me back temporarily, but it would never prevent me from realizing my greatness. (Holy swollen ego, Batman.)

So when I married Michael two years ago, that was very much where I stood with regards to marriage. Sure, I was in favor of being with Michael forever—that was an easy promise. But committing to another person and committing to a lifelong partnership are two very different beasts. Still, armed with my parents ideologies, I trudged onward in my dedication to have my cake and eat it too. (Oh and I was going to eat lots of cake. I might even eat all the cake. Watch out world!)

And for the first year of our marriage, I did just that. Michael and I built up a casual existence in Connecticut, eventually adopting a dog, settling into a cute downtown apartment close to the commuter rail, and sometimes doing things together on the weekends. On the flip side, I had a completely independent life in New York City, where I commuted two hours each morning to a Soho office to work 10-hour days at my, ahem, dream job in the entertainment industry for $14 an hour. It was perfect. I wasn’t compromising my goals for domesticity. I wasn’t sacrificing my dreams for a man. And I most certainly wasn’t letting my marriage prevent me from becoming Tina Fey (eat that, parents). Sisters, I was doing it for myself.

But.

I also wasn’t sleeping. Or making any money. Or seeing my husband. Ever.

Around our one-year anniversary, I broke. Continue reading Wedding Graduates Return: Maddie

Last month, we announced Up Up Creative’s crazy, inspiring name-your-price experiment on paper goods for the month of September. If you didn’t watch the video Julie put together about the project, you should go do that now. It’s inspiring and thought provoking. In the many comments on that post, you asked her to report back on what happened during the project, and what she learned. The result is today’s post. It’s more philosophical than factual, and it contains a ton of business lessons and career lessons. It spoke to me about how sometimes flying in the face of what’s expected can really piss people off, but how it’s usually worth it. Plus, it’s accompanied by pictures from Julie’s business sketchbook (I know, rad).

There’s sort of a business adage (adage? rule of thumb? bit of advice? moral? truism?) that says you should price for the customer you want. If you want a high-end customer, you need a high-end price. If you want a bargain shopper, you need a bargain price.

I actually just gave this advice to two separate individuals in the last 48 hours.

At some point early on in this experiment, it occurred to me that at least in part, my goal for this experiment was to do this the other way around: find the customer I wanted and then let that customer set the price. And who was that customer? She was the kind of person who believes in the power of her voice and her dollar; the sort of person who would think carefully before naming a price. She was thoughtful, maybe a little bit rebellious.

I agonized over my so-called pitch. I worked so hard on the video, on the FAQs. I was selective in which blogs I contacted. I wanted to make this an experiment about ideas more than it was an experiment about how many customers I could bring through the door. I wanted to focus on finding the right name-your-price customers.

After all, it’s just me here. Me and an ex-intern (back to school in September) and a very pregnant sister and a husband neck-deep in prosecuting bad guys. And two young kids in just-part-time daycare. So it’s not like I wanted an onslaught. But I did want participation. I told Meg that my biggest fear was that no one would participate.

And thankfully, people did. In the end there were 33 orders.

The money stuff you can read about here. It was better than I feared, about as I expected, and as awesome as I’d hoped. In the end it even put some money in the coffers, but at the expense of a lot of my time. Put another way, it covered my raw materials but I was paid only part of my hourly rate for all the work.

And ohdeargod was it emotional. I cried. I did Meg Ryan-inspired full-body high-fives. I soared, I despaired. One night I considered taking the whole thing down after a customer admitted she was feeling tortured by having to name a price for my value. I suddenly felt so mean.

So yeah, it’s not sustainable in its current state. It requires too many hours for too few dollars. It made people happy, but it also made them uncomfortable, and not always in that good-you’re-growing way. Plus it’s fair to say, I think, that it pissed off its fair share of people in the stationery industry (although I have to say that appeals to the Mary Mary (Quite Contrary) in me just a bit).

But I’m glad to have done it, and I’d do it all over again. Continue reading Price Is Not The Same As Value

{Me, on vacation, with the text of The New Yorker all over me}

This month I spent half of it halfway around the world on a mostly-unplugged two week vacation. I spent the other half of it back in San Francisco, hard at work. And I’m typing this from a runway in Seattle, on a delayed flight to come back home after moderating the Offbeat Empire panel at Geek Girl Con this weekend. That sort of sums up this month: wonderful and nuts. Or as I like to think about it, finding balance between two extremes.

Self employed small business owners are always telling me how they can’t take vacations, and I’m always arguing that as a small business owner you can’t afford not take vacations. Yes, most of the time self employed vacations are not going to involve international trips (though the more of those we can pull off the better), but if you can’t take time to totally unplug, to stop answering emails, to get out of the office (by which I mean your house), and to just STOP, you’re not going to get a chance to see the big picture of what your business needs, and what you need. The first half of the month I spent time staring into space and napping, lying by the pool and reading the New Yorker (see above), but I also did a lot of on paper journaling. I’d stare into space and think about what wasn’t working in my life and business, and then stare at my journal and write lists, ideas, thoughts. And by the end of the two weeks I had a far better idea of what I wanted my next steps to be, what my big picture goals were for self employment, and what I needed to change right this second. And what I needed to change right this second was fixing my business infrastructure and working smarter. I needed to spend more time doing big picture stuff, and less time focusing on tiny details.

When I got home to San Francisco, within a few short days I’d handed in my final edits on the APW book (It was funny: when I saw the index for the first time, it finally hit me. I’d written a real life book with a real life index, holy shit what was that). And just like that, for the first time since I started working for myself full time in January, I didn’t have a book to write. And the amount of extra time and breathing space that gives you is intense.

So I did common sense things. I talked to my staff to get their feedback about what was working and what wasn’t. We made some invisible to you but huge to us editorial changes (hint: edit flow and editorial calendar plug ins). I had a long meeting with my excellent accountant where I finally handed day-to-day book keeping over to him, so I could keep track of what I was making on a month-to-month level, instead of only doing the books in a flurry of stress once a quarter. (Hint: just because you can do it yourself—and I’m good at Quickbooks—does not mean you should.) I worked on my 2011 budget. I made the first steps on building a foundation for new, post-book projects. And I even took an afternoon off now and then, to enjoy the finally-emerged-after-an-awful-foggy-summer San Francisco sun. I started a needlepoint project, so I could calm my mind after a busy day of working online. I spent a little more time with my husband.  And for the first time this year things felt a little bit easier. I had a little more time for gratitude. I had time to think about how this blog has grown since my full time leap in January, and how amazing all of you guys are (even the quiet ones).

And then this weekend I dashed up to Seattle to Moderate the Offbeat Empire Panel at Geek Girl Con. I’d never been to Seattle, which is very pretty. But mostly it was amazing to spend the weekend with the Offbeat Empire team. Ariel and I kept cheerily introducing each other as, “This is my closest competitor,” which is totally true. But it’s great to live in a world where I can hang out with my closest business competiors, and we can trade advice, and try to help each other create more awesome. And my roomates the two different nights, Megan Finley, Managing Editor of Offbeat Bride, and Cat Rocketship, Managing Editor at Offbeat Home, are awesome, hilarious, smart ladies. And that was even better.

So onwards and upwards. I hope to close out the last of this year with more balance, more breathing, and more sharing of ideas. And oh yeah, a book I wrote. Because that’s totally happening too.

The last two months, I’ve talked a lot about the ways working for yourself is hard and overwhelming. I’ve talked about the stresses of running a small business, and about the feeling of failing forward, over and over again. This month, it felt like the sun finally broke through the clouds. It felt as if all the work, and stress, and confusion paid off, and I remembered why I was doing this.

I spent all of last year focused on building APW so I could quit my job. Every single morning, I would hop over the cable car tracks in my high heels, running to my job as a (fancy) secretary—a job I’d taken just so I could fully get APW off the ground. And every single morning as I did that, I’d say a little prayer, “Please, let me sell the book. Please, let me work for myself. Please, let this be worth it.” And then it happened.

But this year has been such a whirl of adjustment that it’s been hard to focus on the fact that I finally got what I wanted. I figured out how to write a book… and wrote a book; I got an office, I gave up an office; I figured out accounting, I fell behind on accounting; I got a staff, I realized I had to learn how to be a boss. It’s been really complicated. And in the midst of that complication, I kept looking back on myself last year and saying, “I got it. Now I’m going to try really hard to enjoy it fully.” But it’s been hard. Complicated.

But this month, when I went to New York City a few days early just because I call the shots in my own life, it really hit me. I worked in the park. I worked in the beautiful public library. And in those moments, the fact that I had earned the freedom to work in the park on a beautiful summer day hit me at gale force. Self-employment wasn’t easy, but it was worth it.

And then there was Yay New York. We threw Yay New York in seven weeks, and during that period I consistently felt overwhelmed and like I was failing. Tickets were not selling fast enough. We were not lining up sponsors fast enough. I was afraid I’d taken on too much. But when it came together, it was magic. It made me realize the hugeness of what I’d undertaken this year: the business, the growth of the website, the growth and deepening of this community, and now two weddings and a party. The failure was worth it.

Right now, as this post goes live, I’m far away on vacation. Taking vacation as a self-employed person is hard, and most people I know don’t do it. I spent the week before I left getting three weeks of work done in one week (while recovering from Yay New York). I had to make sure systems were in place for things to run when I was gone. When I get back, I’ll have to catch up. But for me, someone who occasionally has to send business emails at intermission of a Broadway show, it’s necessary. I’m not going to send business emails while on proper vacation; I’ll loose my mind. I’m totally unplugged right now, not checking Twitter, not checking the blog, not checking email. And that’s what is going to give me the power to get through the remaining months of the year, doing what I love.

This month, I was reminded why it was all worth it. And then I took a nap.

Photo: Me on Katie Jane’s roof the night before Yay NY, taken by Amber Marlow Photography

{Photo by Maggie, just because I like it.}

This month has felt less about self employment and more about running a business. And running a business can be a bit high-stress and tricky. I’ve had days this month where I spoke to two lawyers (only one of whom I am married to), an accountant, dealt with a budget issue, managed employees, and chatted with our web designers, all in the same day. On days like that, I miss just sitting down at my computer and writing. But I’m also proud of all the myriad types of work that go into making APW tick, and I’m proud to be learning how to do all of them.

In the second half of my first year of self-employment, I’m coming face-to-face with the fact that this undertaking is a complicated one. When I quit my job, it was easiest to look at the year as just a continuation of the work I’d already been doing (plus a book): write posts, sell ads, grow traffic, use new-found time to write book. But it’s not really like that. To run a business well, you have to think about how your budget is going to play out over time, how you want the business to grow (and how you don’t want it to grow), what your employees need, legal issues, and, well, more. That, and you need to keep sitting down every morning to write. It’s hard, but the freedom that it gives me, along with the ability to do work that I love, makes it worth it.

When I wrote my last post on self-employment the ever-wise Class of 1980 commented, “Self-employment takes you closer to the way things really work. Instead of being a crew member on the plane, you are piloting it… and Oh My God just the slightest touch on the controls makes the plane do big moves!” I’ve been thinking about that comment all month. People think self-employment is scary because your business ebbs and flows, and you might lose your income. But that’s not true. Self-employment is scary because it shows you that business always ebbs and flows, and you just haven’t been looking directly at that fact for all this time. If you make a salary, there is someone above you, with their hands on the controls, trying to make the plane fly smoothly, so you still get your paycheck. Turns out, I’d rather be flying the plane than not. Of course.

At points during this month, while I undertook a variety of new-to-me projects, I felt like I was failing, over and over again. My mantra on those days was “Fail forward.” And I kept reminding myself that the only way I know to be successful is to fail, over and over again, and learn from it. On a particularly rough morning, Lisa of Privilege reassured me, “If you aren’t failing here and there you are certainly leaving money on the table somewhere else.” And I realized, yes. We fail when we want to test the boundaries of what we know how to do well, and that’s how we grow.

Which isn’t to say that things have been all hard all the time around here. APW made and sold its first merchandise this month, to a smashing success (those tote bags sold out in 72 hours, and we ordered a limited additional run, which is also almost gone). We worked to plan a big party (which looks like it’s going to be so fun that there are no words). I spoke at a wedding event, which was smashingly fun, if funny. I finally announced the APW Vendor Directory, which is shaping up to be truly excellent. And, most importantly to me, we’ve been consistently producing content here that I’m deeply proud of.

But mostly, I realized that I’ve been sprinting like a madwoman all year, and it’s time to slow down. For the first time, when people ask me what my next project is, I’m telling them, “Nothing.” Of course, I’m me, and that really means, “Nothing right this second, at least until my book is published in January.” I’m planning to spend the fall breathing, getting systems in place, and making APW run as well as it can. Getting accounting systems in place might not be glamorous, but it’s important, and I’m going to focus on it. There is grace in doing exactly what you’re already doing as well as you possibly can, and that’s what I hope to spend the next few months doing.

That, and taking a vacation. I need it.