Me in 10 Secs.

I'm a freelance writer and editor who until recently thought I had absolutely no talent in the visual arts. But I've been painting and no one has laughed yet. I long for the sea and feel most like myself near large bodies of water. (Yet I live in a nearly landlocked state.) I need everyday beauty to feel whole. I'm not sure if I've ever been stung by a bee, and my very first cavity at the age of 23 involved a root canal. I'm currently reading The Artist's Way and it's changing my life. If you like good food, deep conversation, and thinking for yourself, let's be friends!

(Why do I feel like I just wrote a personal ad?)

Great idea from Mocha Momma. Meet other BlogHers here.

Intro yo'self in the comments -- whether you're going to Chicago or not!

Two Types of Value

In my last post I pondered what it means to value yourself enough to align your talents and desires with your actions. Part of what got me thinking about all of this was a post called Get a Real Job from Chris Garret on New Media .

Chris writes about people who think that blogging in particular – and writing in general – are not "real" jobs and are not worthy of real compensation. He asks, "Do people feel writing and getting rewarded for it is ripping people off in some way?" Here are my two cents from the comments section off that post:

I recently read an analogy comparing publishing a blog to publishing your very own newspaper. I think this type of comparison can be helpful for people who are new to blogging or unsure of its purpose and value. It's easier to "get" blogging when it's compared to a form of traditional media (like a newspaper, newsletter, or magazine), at least as a starting point. And it's given me a new perspective on how to approach my own blog. I'm building a list of ideas of regular and special features, types of content, ways to generate interactivity with readers, and how to monetize all of these efforts. I blog because I love to tell stories, but it’s also part of my business. I like the connection of passion and profit.

As far as people undervaluing blogging, it's the same with writing in most forms. I think that this pervasive attitude is also what makes some freelancers work for so little. Too many writers embrace the "starving artist" mindset, are simply desperate for work-any-work-at-any-price, or are just not very good writers. When I first started freelancing, I had to constantly remind myself that I was running a business and needed to value my talents and services appropriately. After all, if I didn't value them, others wouldn't. I always knew this in a business sense, but it took awhile to know it with every fiber of my being – in other words, to be able to quote my rates without secretly cringing. For awhile, I kept thinking, "Who pays for this shit?" It’s not that I thought my work was crappy. But I marveled that people would pay good money for something that came so easily to me. Then again, I pay people to mow my lawn and do my taxes – two areas outside of my own expertise. The moral of the story: People will pay for what they want/need. Which we all knew already.

Since I write for a living, both kinds of valuation – personal and profitable – are important to me.

What do you value in yourself? Does it also have value in the marketplace? I'm not suggesting that money should be the only motivator for using our talents. But too often we overlook opportunities to benefit from doing what we love. We all have gifts and we all need money to live. Why shouldn't the two overlap?

What do you love to do? What are your hobbies? Are there people who want the end product but don't want to do the work to get it? Would they be willing to pay you to do the work?

No One Cares About My Cat

Three days after my last post, I started reading No One Cares What You Had for Lunch: 100 Ideas for Your Blog by Mighty Girl Maggie Mason. Here's an excerpt from the back cover:

Millions of people are blogging today, and most of us could use better material. We apologize for "how long it's been since the last post," offer halfhearted complaints about "not feeling like posting today," and desperately begin to catalog our lunch orders. Ham and cheese? Your Pulitzer awaits.

... Writer, editor, and long-time blogger Margaret Mason offers up 100 suggestions that will keep your blog engaging, fun, and full of fresh content. ...

So enough about your lunch, your cat, your afternoon nap--buy this book, my friend. Write something good.

Wait? No one cares what I had for lunch OR about my cat?

Why didn't someone tell me before I waxed poetic and posted pictures of my little kits?

At least I haven't listed my lunches.

But wait! Mason's Tip #31 encourages bloggers to write about their perfect meal, whether it's one they've already eaten, would like to prepare, or have yet to enjoy. Is this really any better than writing about what they had for lunch?

Yes and no. If I post about my lunch (or my cat for that matter) because I lack the imagination and scope to write about anything else, that's bad blogging. But if a blogger wrote sparkling descriptions of noontime meals, that might be worth reading. For example:

Boring: Ham and cheese on white bread with mustard.

Maybe Not Boring: Thinly sliced pieces of spiral-cut ham accompanied by an aged white cheddar on artisanal ciabatta bread smeared with grainy mustard.

Of course, that type of description works better when the subject matter (the ingredients) are worth mentioning. Can prepackaged Oscar Mayer ham and a slice of processed American cheese on Wonder Bread with French's Mustard sound so sweet? Maybe...

Nationally-known, brand name ham with uniquely American cheese on soft white squares with tangy yellow mustard.

Okay, maybe not. (That last one sounded eerily like something from a corporate resume.)

Either way, I think lunch can be interesting. As can cats. Maybe the last post about Cheska's trip to the vet was a skosh boring, although I think the last sentence redeemed it: "She looked at him as if to say, 'Oh, more hissing? Okay, whatever. I'm just gonna walk over here.'"

I think the keys to quality blogging are to know your audience (actual or intended) and write something worth reading. And you people keep coming back, so how bad can it be, right?

Even though this blog is named after my business, I've used it as a personal platform and avoided linking to it from my writing website. But I'm aware that clients (actual and potential) could find me here nonetheless. I'm thinking about ways to use blogging as part of my business. I have a few ideas, but would appreciate any suggestions. I would like to draw an audience beyond my friends and family members, as much as I appreciate them. How can I create a blog that can compare with these: Dooce, Superhero Journal, Mighty Goods, Cute Overload, and other that have a wide readership and make it onto award lists. Seriously, I'm collecting your ideas. If you're a quiet reader of this blog, now's your time to post.

Oh, and for the record, little Cheska Sue had a bacterial infection in her intestines but is feeling much better after five days of antibiotics. Five days of bitter pills stuffed into chicken-flavored treats. Five glorious days of treats galore. Oh the yumminess! "Hooray for treats!" says Cheska.

Flamingo Caper, Part II

Better late than never, eh? So I set up the plastic pink flamingos in my front yard for April Fool's Day, artfully arranged for maximum impact. James would be home from work in about an hour. I took a few admiring photos and went to take a shower. As I was doing my hair, I had a bad feeling that something had gone wrong with the birds. I looked outside and discovered that the two closest to the road were missing. But one of them had left a single, metal stake leg behind. A birdnapping! And right here in suburbia!

These were borrowed birds. A woman I know at work knew another woman who happened to have 16 fake flamingos. She connected the two of us and the bird lady graciously leant me the pink beauties. And now two of her birds were gone! I dragged a dining room chair out into the garage and sat vigil over my front yard. I felt like Farmer Brown guarding his cornfield, minus the rifle.

James arrived home and we had a good laugh over the joke. Then I told him about the theft. He couldn't believe it. In the interim, I had called my mom about the caper. She suggested that I drive around the neighborhood to see if I could find the flamingos. I said, "Who would be stupid enough to steal them from my yard and put them in theirs? Especially with one missing a leg.

James and I put the birds back in their boxes and decided to go out to eat. As we approached a stop sign about five houses up from ours, I noticed some teenage boys playing hockey in their driveway. And next to them in their yard were the flamingos. "Those are my flamingos!" I shouted. "Stop the car!"

"What are you going to?" James asked.

"I'm going to take my birds back!"

The boys' father was standing in the yard. I struck a friendly yet guarded and decisive tone and said, "Hi. I'm missing two flamingos. And one of them," I paused dramatically, and pointed, "is missing a leg." (I stopped short of shouting 'A-ha!')

I marched up to the flamingos and swiftly uprooted them.

Boring dialogue ensued about how I had borrowed these birds and it was prank for my husband. The boys stayed silent, but one of them did point to another as if to say, "It was him!" The dad didn't have much useful to say. He said something about the boys must have been pulling a prank, etc.

As I was walking away he finally said that he was sorry. I got the feeling that he just didn't know what to do, or just didn't care. Maybe he should teach his kids not to steal. Keep in mind, I don't know these people. It's not like they're my neighbor-friends and we all had a good laugh and that was that. I wonder now what the kids planned to do with the stolen lawn ornaments. Display them in their yard for awhile and then bring them back? Keep them? Come back for the other leg? And didn't their father wonder where these random birds had come from in the first place? Or maybe Daddy was with the boys when they took them. I could wax on about the decline of society's ethics, but that would be boring.

In the end, all 16 flamingos returned safely to their owner. So -- and you had to see this coming -- no harm, no fowl.

The two in the upper right hand corner (hard to see) were stolen.