No rest for the wicked(ly awesome)

If this first business proposal works, I'm about to enter into one of the busiest periods since third year university.

If I get this contract (novelizing a script), then it'll be officially the first time I was paid to write a full-length manuscript.  This project has all the earmarks of a scary but good dream come true:  it's a crime story, it's historical, and because the script is already written, the hard part is already done.  If I get it, great!  I get to write something outside my normal era and slightly to the left of my genre (I write fiction, typically); and best of all, it's paid work.

And the coolest part about it was that originally, this prospective client had passed me over and gone for someone else.  On Friday, he'd sent me a message, expressing his displeasure at working with the previous person he'd hired (and later fired).  He'd invited me directly to try my hand at the project - hence, this recent proposal.

This time, I was smarter about the proposal:  I looked over the script, I outlined a series of milestones, including an outline for the novelization, when to expect the first few chapters, when to expect the whole manuscript, when to expect the completed revisions - all that - and for every milestone, a set monetary value.  No money held in escrow by Elance, no commitment to work; but, if the money is there, I live up to my own deadlines and get the project done.

In the proposal, I was very conscious of the fact that he'd fired the last person.  There are two reasons why I could expect writers to be fired:  1) they're very bad at what they do, and 2) they're prima donnas, unwilling to adapt their work to the client's needs. 

My first imperative, therefore, was to assure the client that I was willing to make any necessary changes as he saw fit - especially considering this is based on a true story. 

The second was to set personal expectations:  I'm passionate about what I do, and I stand up for what I believe in; but that's not to say I'm inflexible.  If I'm wrong, I fix it; and since it's his story, he gets final say, even if I don't agree. 

The third was to set more practical expectations:  to advise him I'd be asking lots of questions, that I'd need additional time to check historical facts, and that he'd need to choose certain things himself, things you don't necessarily have to think about when writing a script - point of view, verb tense, amount of detail, word choice, that kind of thing.

The fourth was to set realistic milestones.  That's always been a challenge for me, because I tend to set my own targets way too aggressively, then I get annoyed and discouraged when I don't meet them.  I know I can write quickly.  I know I can do it rather well, too.  But I have a lot of prior commitments to work around, and I want to give myself downtime, in case of the flu, or a broken leg or whatever.

The fifth was to set a realistic, though competitive, monetary rate for each milestone.  The client had laid out a budget, the bottom end being laughable, and the top end being very tempting.  I picked a rate that was about 85% of his proposed budget.  If I'm giving up Facebook and gym time, it had better be worth it; in return, I make sure he's very happy with the end product.  But I also know I'm new, with non-verifiable experience.  I won't press my luck.

And then I went above and beyond, the only way I know how:  I got started.  I sent him off a seven-page sample to show him what I'm capable of, with the full expectation that it's going to change.  I read the first few pages of the script, and I wrote the story based on the impressions made upon the movie-screen in my head.  I had to make a few jumps in logic, not having read the full script yet, and not having met the real-life inspiration for the story.  But we'll see what he makes of it.  Besides, it was a good exercise, taking a break from Mummer and jumping into the head of a different leading male character.

I firmly believe in giving free samples of my work, because promises don't mean anything when it comes to this kind of work, that much I know.  Experience can be exaggerated; a CV could be nothing but a pack of lies; and previous employment contacts can be outsourced to Bali (if not now, soon - I'm sure there's a market for it).  But if someone wants to know if I'm good at what I do, I should do it and let them judge for themselves.

I have no idea if my proposal or sample will intrigue him or not.  In some ways, I'm flying entirely in the dark here.

But you know what:  if I don't get it, that's okay too!  I have a lot of other things on my plate, and lots of other things to write.  Because I'm still working full-time, I don't have to sweat the missed cash-making opportunity.  Best of all, if I don't get it, that's more sleep for me!  (And more walkies for the dog, of course).  In terms of finances, I won't hurt if he turns me down.

This is the best possible place a new business owner could be in.

But there's another challenge I've discovered:  I can't get too enthusiastic about this first project, should I get it.  After all, he fired the last writer.  I still have a day job, I still have other commitments, and I have my own writing to do - to say nothing of the next round of interviews I'm about to launch.  If I overexert myself on this project, I risk falling short on something else.  And, if I rush it, I run the risk of botching the story and dissatisfying the client.

Of course, there's also the question of "do I have the energy to do it all?"  If creativity becomes my day job, how does that affect my non-work writing?  Will my creative energy be completely sapped?  Will my physical energy be drained, if I'm working two jobs at once, and if I'm still writing?

Here's where I get back to "being in the best possible place a new business owner could be in."

First, there's a lot I can do while waiting around for things to happen.  I can't start editing Mummer's the Word until I hear back from Verna; can't start working on any short stories 'til I hear back from an editor; can't work on Lady Butcher until I hear back from someone else.  So, I can do something while I wait.

I spend my down time thinking, planning, plotting.  As soon as I have the time, I'm well prepared to work on the next big thing - which makes me that much more efficient.

For another thing, I have an awesome entrepreneurial mentor in Mady Virgona.  She's been there, done that, and she's a fantastic example of self-employment success.  She knows when a start-up business owner is most at risk of fatigue and collapse.  She's been keeping one eye on me from the get-go, and she's been challenging my sworn fortitude.  She's allowed me to learn from her successes and mistakes - invaluable advice when you're starting out on your own.

Best of all, she's letting me make my own foolish mistakes.  Not that she can always help prevent the mistakes, mind you.  I tend to pounce on opportunity without a second thought, and when I tell her about it later, she'll usually tell me "I might not have done it the same way.  I would have done X, in order to avoid Y." And then I learn for next time.  If you learn from your own mistakes, then I'm learning twice as fast, because Mady can explain to me the hidden consequences of the business choices I make.

Mady, my big hearty thanks.

For another thing, I have friends and family who know me better than I know myself, who can recognize the signs of impending burn-out and know how to talk me back from the metaphorical ledge.  Sometimes I think they worry too much (though, if they saw how much time I spent on Facebook and computer games, I doubt they'd worry as much as they do).

Also, I have a dog.  If she's tired of me sitting at my computer too long, she will squeeze her sixty pound body between my chair and the legs of my desk, and the proceed to hip-check me away from the computer.  Then she'll dog-laugh at me, grinning and fanning the air with the bludgeon that is her tail.  If I ignore her, she'll flumph down on the floor and loose an eerily human groan.  She won't let me work too long at any given time.

What's the worst case scenario at this point?  I'll be unpublished, working a full-time job for a major corporation.  Y'know, kinda like...current state.  Best case scenario:  I get to a point where I'm good enough to be selective about my clientele and still earn enough to sleep comfortably at night, every night, with time left over for leisure.

So there, in a nutshell, is Hypergraphia Writing and Communication Services.  I finally have the impetus to do what I set out to do years ago, and I'm comfortably surrounded by a support system of friends, family and colleagues.

All I need now is the work, and for that first contract, no matter how big or small it might be.

Hypergraphia is officially open for business.

Next week:  more interviews!  And maybe, more news!

Someday never comes: Gearing up for the launch of my own business

This is one of those weeks when I wish I could go back over my time sheets and change "VACATION" to "SICK DAYS".  I want a do-over on this vacation.

Anyhow, despite the F4 migraine over the last three days, I did manage to get some things accomplished.  Writing wasn't one of them, unfortunately - not on any kind of a novel, at least.  Interviews - also neglected, though I intend on fixing that in an hour or so.

But:  I did write my first flash fiction (a story under 600 words), I've slept about 50 hours in the last 4 days, I won an eBook (from Ed Kurtz, horror writer), I'm attempting to volunteer at the YMCA / YWCA for literacy programs, I've edited something for the Crime Writers of Canada, I did a story consultation with Mike, and I've started setting up my own business.

Yes indeedy:  my own business.  My own workshop, my own livelihood, my own hours and office...

...No one responsible for my success or failure but me, no internal office politics...

...new and unusual bills, complicated taxes, screwy retirement contribution policies, uncertain future, uncertain and unsteady incomes...

...long periods without any income at all...Feast and famine workloads...

...supplementary health and dental insurance that I have to pay out of pocket...

And that's why I won't be quitting my day job any time soon.  Before I make the jump, there are certain milestones to achieve first, including "find and advertise niche, collect $x in savings, gain x number of regularly paying contacts, spend x time in the business, collect x number of recommendations," etc.

But, once it's all legal, I'll be actively working my way toward full-time self-employment.  And I think I'm making some good strides already, including work on a business plan (really rough draft), researching the market, scouting prospective clients, and securing business cards.  I should have the cards in about two weeks or so.

Grand plans?  I have none beyond "don't starve and don't let the power go out."

So why bother?  Two reasons:  one is rational, and the other, not so much.

From a pragmatic position, it comes down to "I want to be a full-time writer and I want to keep eating." 

Let's say I manage to land a book contract and/or self-publish.  Chances are slim that I'm going to be able to earn enough from royalties and advances to uphold the standard of living to which I have become accustomed.  Additional money has to come from somewhere, meaning:  day job. 

My existing day job has a structured schedule and lots of perks - like a steady and predictable income, for example.  But, if I'm asked to do a book-signing on a Tuesday afternoon at a library in Montreal, I have to move around my existing work and my vacations around.  Heaven help me if I'm invited off island.  My schedule revolves around the quota of hours, the workload and when it's due.

Fortunately, my existing day job is quite flexible in terms of hours and location.  I can work virtually from anywhere in Canada.  If my passport was up to date, I'm sure I could work anywhere in the world, so long as I have access to the internet.  But what is less flexible is the amount of work, when it's due, and what meetings I need to attend.

So what's the problem?  Fulfillment.  I don't have that sense of fulfillment I once had, and it's not because of the work itself.  It's because every morning, when I log in and start updating my databases, or building new ones, or sending off my routine reports, it feels like I've betrayed myself.

And worse, I've been finding more and more that writing is distracting me during the day - the harder I try to focus on building a database, the more I think up awesome modus operandi for murder.  That can not be a good thing.

I work hard, I deliver accurate and easy-to-read reports on time every time, but I have to confess, my heart's not in it, and lately, my brain isn't either.  I've been spending more and more time going over the reports making sure they're accurate, because I don't know when a wild car chase in my head has distracted me from a critical decimal point.  That's not an efficient way to work.

And then, when I do sit down to write, all I can think about is queries, layouts, internal politics and the seeming futility of it all.

My two worlds have become mutually invasive.

I'm not doing what I set out to do.  In fact, in recent years, I feel like I've been getting farther and farther away from where I wanted to be, and that I've been settling for the easy way out.  I could quite easily work for the next thirty years at this company, have evenings and weekends off, take the odd vacation, and retire to a life of easy living.

And I would hate myself for it.  That's the irrational reason for starting up my own business.

Writing is in my blood.  It's what I do.  It's all I want to do.  Achieving a particular goal - writing as livelihood - is what I've been striving for since I was seven years old.  I can't turn my back on it without betraying who I am.

But I also like to eat, I like to go out for coffee, and I absolutely adore the fact that when it's been snowing and freezing rain for eight solid days, I can go downstairs and drive my car out without chipping, shoveling or swearing.  I also know that an optimistic advance will provide me enough for bookmarks, a website and maybe a week's vacation in Cuba.  Not enough to live by, not for a sustained period of time.

So, I want to set up a business that's "writing-like".  Editing, proofreading, ghostwriting - things I'm already good at.  Things I'm already doing for free.

And, I would much rather have an established sideline business to fall back on, rather than trying to establish a business at the same time as building up my reputation as a writer. 

Yes, for the first little while it's going to hurt, working full-time and running a business and writing and and and...but in the long-run, it'll be worth it.  I don't expect a flood of contracts the minute I open the door; I don't expect a flood of contracts even after the first 5 or 10 successful projects.

But it's the experience I'm looking forward to, as much as the cash:  editing, proofreading and ghostwriting.  I know, that sounds about as fun as building databases, but it's something I'm good at.  It's something I enjoy.  It allows me to read more, it allows me to see more of the market, and it teaches me how to be a good self-employed professional - in the event that I can write fiction full-time.

And I know the old adage: the grass is always greener on the other side.  But you know what?  I'd like to have my own lawn and make it green.  It's been a twenty-year dream of mine to own and operate my own business.  I almost had one going for a while there, too, but I was lousy at it, and I let too many other things get in my way.  I've grown up a lot in the last ten years, and I've learned a lot from people with entrepreneurial expertise (Mady, here's looking at you, kid).

I figure, if I try to set up my own business and if I fail, I might lose some money and maybe get discouraged.  Okay.  That's the risk.  And that's why I'm not quitting my day job.

But if I don't try, I'm going to regret it, because I would have assumed I couldn't do something I put my mind to, and because I didn't make an effort to try.  I would have let fear hold me back.

So, I want to try.

That leaves me too options:  start today, or start someday. 

And as Credence Clearwater Revival has told us over the years:  Someday never comes.