What's in the gallery?
We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.
We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**
* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.
** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.
What's in the gallery?
We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.
We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**
* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.
** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.
Why DO I charge so much? Part Two.
So last time we talked about how I can even think about charging for things (especially “when information should really be free”).
And I promised that I’d also get around to answering the people who want to know why my stuff costs what it does.
One more thing: I know you guys are super smart, so I probably don’t need to point this out, but …
These two posts aren’t (just) for the hurt-and-upset people who don’t understand why I charge “so much”.
They’re also a resource to help you feel safe standing behind your own prices, if/when these issues come up.
“Your stuff is probably good, but why do you charge so damn much?”
I really want to acknowledge how completely frustrating (and frightening) it is when you’re in a tough situation financially, you want something that can help, and you can’t make it happen.
If you hang out on the blog a lot and know a little of my history, you know I’ve been through some terrifyingly hard times of really having nothing. Times of not able to imagine being able to ever afford anything beyond (tfu tfu tfu) basic survival needs.
So I get how awful it it can feel to interact with someone’s prices, especially when your own situation feels completely desperate, and you really need to know that help and support is accessible for you.
It’s so hard.
And I don’t know if a post will help you or not. But here are some thoughts, in no particular order — you can use them or not use them as works for you.
Answer #1: sustainability
I’m not interested in running an “exchanging time for money” business.
If I did, I’d work a gazillion hours a week and then have to go have an emotional breakdown. It wouldn’t just be the occasional emergency vacation. I’d be a big freaking mess. All the time.
My duck would hate it. My gentleman friend would hate it. I would hate it.
That wouldn’t serve anyone. Not me. Not my Right People.
And my intention is to help as many of my Right People as possible — while still taking care of myself.
Answer #2: charging what I charge lets me help more of my Right People
Remember when I talked last time about how I give away nine hours of my time every single week here on the blog?
The stuff that is for sale here (which I totally don’t shove in anyone’s face — there’s a “here’s where you can get stuff” page and that’s about it) supports the entire business.
It allows me to write these posts. It allows me to give away tons of information and Useful Concepts.
It allows me to give stuff away — and give it gladly — in situations where my heart is really pulled to make an exception for someone who needs it.
Answer #3: I actually should be charging more
If I charged based on results, I would charge more. A lot more.
But again, it’s about serving my Right People, so I don’t actually charge what I could.
My superpower is zapping stucknesses. My clients regularly have breakthroughs that might otherwise have taken twenty years of therapy.
They say things like “ohmygod I feel fifty pounds lighter”, and that’s after the first twenty minutes of working on the stuckness.
So if I charged based on what people actually receive from my work, no one would be able to afford me until … after they’d done the work.
Which wouldn’t be very effective.
Answer #4: the hidden benefits of higher prices.
This kind of deserves its own piece. For now I’ll just point out that Mikelann Valterra of the Women’s Earning Institute argues that at least half the people who are interested in your services shouldn’t be able to afford you.
My friend Mark says that every time we have to stretch to commit to a transformative process, the act of stretching is useful.
And Naomi says you should double your prices every three to six months (or, alternately, every time someone writes to you complaining that you charge too much).
Because higher prices:
- function as a sexy red velvet rope to keep people out
- keep you from being overwhelmed in your business
- can help people make a stronger commitment to doing the work
And yeah, when the people who need your work have to make a big decision about whether or not they’re going to work with you — and maybe even save up for it over a period of time — they treat it seriously.
They’ll actually use the stuff you teach. Because they had to work to make it happen.
Answer #5: to encourage people not to hire you.
True, if you’re in the frustrating position of desperately hoping for clients, this seems like a pretty insanely weird thing to want.
But at a certain point in your business, you’ll want and need more time for your own healing/recharging process, and to figure out what needs to happen so that you can share your legacy with as many of your Right People as possible. You’ll need to biggify in a more mindful way.
And when that happens, you need to encourage your people to try other stuff first (like books and ebooks and programs and courses) instead of just hiring you just because … well, because they can.
And if your coaching and consulting rates aren’t prohibitive, people will keep hiring you. Which is not really what you want in the long term.
For me, it’s very useful that my rates are high enough that people think “you know, I’ll just take a class with her and Selma instead and maybe save up for a consultation later”.
It gives me time and space to grow my own practice in a healthy, sustainable way.
Answer #6: to find out who your Right People are
It’s not that all your Right People can necessarily afford you right now.
But if they’re your Right People, they feel the resonance.
They might not be able to hire you right now, but they want to be someone who can hire you eventually.
Your Right People believe in your work and what it can do for them.
Your Right People are more or less where you are on the sleaze-non-sleaze-kosher-marketing continuum.
So by definition, someone who is your Right Person will never challenge your prices.
Example: someone recently said that my blog would be good if it weren’t for the fact that I’m “constantly promoting my over-priced products”.
I’m going to go out on a limb and guess … not one of my Right People.
(Of course if I’m still worried, I can do the math. If I’ve written 338 posts and four of them were about upcoming classes or programs … hmm, we probably have different definitions of “constantly”.)
Your Right People are going to be kind and supportive.
Knowing that someone isn’t one of them gives you the freedom to not have to take their commentary seriously.
Answer #7: my Right People are willing to invest in themselves
You know what? Michael Port charges $1000 for forty-five minutes on the phone, and $5000 for a whole day with him. That’s a lot of money.
But it’s totally worth it. I know it is. Because I understand how the concept of investing-in-myself works.
And because when I paid close to a thousand dollars to take a seminar with him in Vancouver, I came home with a thirty thousand dollar idea and the confidence that I could implement it.
I also used his advice to hire Marissa to be my First Mate on the pirate ship, completely transforming my business. This also allowed me to go on email sabbatical, which is pretty much the best thing that has ever happened to me.
So I know that whatever I invest in studying with him will give back exponentially, both in terms of money and my emotional well-being. Yay emotional well-being!
I still haven’t put aside my five thousand dollars to spend a day with him, but it’s something I’m saving up for. It’s not because “he charges too much”. It’s because I’m still learning to invest in myself.
Answer #8: resonance.
I’ve written before about the art and science of resonant pricing.
If you read that article, you know two things:
- if you’re resonant with your prices, your Right People will be too.
- I get all of my prices from a meditation that I do, and I have other people do the pricing resonance exercise with me.
Which means? That I feel steady and comfortable in the price that shows up. And that if someone challenges my prices, that’s a clear sign that they’re not feeling the resonance. Which means definitely not one of my Right People.
So … why are my prices so high?
They’re not.
They do exactly what I want them to do.
Comment Zen for today.
What I’m not looking for:
- To be judged, psychoanalyzed or have shoes thrown at me.
- Criticism on the topic. It’s totally fine if you believe that it’s not worth engaging in discussion with people who ask why your prices are what they are. And at the same time, if I’m willing to have the conversation with people who sincerely want to know, I want to be allowed to have it.
What is welcome:
- Thoughts about my bigger theme of creating a safe space for your Right People, while keeping healthy boundaries so you don’t have to take on other people’s stuff.
My commitment.
I commit to giving time and thought to the things that people say, and I will interact with their ideas and with my own stuff as compassionately and honestly as possible.
Item! Holy shavasana, Batman!
A somewhat goofy mini-collection of stuff I’ve been reading, stuff I’ve been thinking about and oh, some completely random crap.
Basically the stuff that never gets mentioned here because I’m not the kind of person who can just make some teeny little point. Not into the whole brevity thing, as the Dude would say.
Actually, I’m under the strict compulsion to write ten pages about anything on my mind. So this is me. Practicing brevity.
Wednesday!
I am in headless chicken mode again — getting ready to head off to North Carolina to teach a weekend workshop of fabulous wacky brain training.
So today’s Items! may be (Item!) a bit more chaotic than usual. If that’s possible. Which I don’t really think it is.
Item! Post No. 31 in a series that has pretty much become a tradition despite itself.
Item! Walking the path.
Remember Waverly Fitzgerald (Waverly!) who got me to name my moons and then you played with me? Wasn’t that beautiful?
I loved this post from her called The Path.
So sweet.
“My path is more like a maze. My work is five blocks south and three blocks west of my house. I haven’t really worked out the math but I figure there are probably at least 45 ways I could walk those blocks, depending on which block I turn at, and that’s not including the occasional alley (I love alleys).”
Her book Slow Time is such a favorite of mine, and she is an outstanding teacher. So smart and so kind and so curious and so full of play.
Love.
Item! I heart Christine Bougie.
You might know Christine Bougie if you hang out here a lot in the comments.
I’ve been listening to her music all week.
Oh. My. God.
The album is Hammy’s Secret Life and it’s fantastic.
She’s @christinebougie on Twitter.
Item! Don’t mess with Pisces!
Super interesting (and funny!) post from Shannon Bowman about her conversation with the Pisces moon.
She takes the wacky-talking-to-yourself stuff that I do and takes it somewhere completely new.
Of course, I know pretty much nothing about astrology other than that I like hanging out with Virgos (hi, Colleen and Mark and Hiro!). And that apparently I am the posterchild for pisces.
But the fabulous fish drawings knocked me out with their freakishly accurate description of my good and not-so-good traits.
And the post is still really great even if you’re not into any of this.
Pisces: “What do you always tell people about Cancer?”
Me: “Crunchy on the outside, chewy on the inside.”
Pisces: “Ok, good. Well, you already have the crunchy part covered, so you’re not ready to work on that yet. You have to get the middle part down first before you can put the shell on; otherwise you’re just empty inside.”
She’s @clover on Twitter.
Item! This is the best comment I have ever had the privilege of receiving.
It’s from the brilliant Wendy Cholbi (whom I adore) and she wrote it in response to this bit I wrote on the Shivanauts blog about the Retreat in Taos.
“Here’s a poem I wrote during the retreat (it’s a double dactyl, which is an eight-line poem with a specific syllabic stress pattern that makes it perfect for wacky observations — also the stress pattern helps me remember the correct way to pronounce “shavasana”):
Higgledy-piggledy,
Holy shavasana!
Dancing with Shiva is
breaking my brain.Molecules, neurons and
thoughts reassembling
into a radical
new kind of sane.I feel obligated to explain that there’s an implied “Batman” after the “Holy shavasana!” line. Because I always hear it in an excited cartoony voice in my head.
Time to submit this comment before I chicken out…”
I. Love. Wendy.
Holy shavasana, Batman!
She’s @wendycholbi on Twitter.
Item! Stuff changes.
So back in May (really? that long ago?) the fabulous Laura Fitton aka Pistachio and I taught a class about how not to be strategic.
And not in an ironic “ten ways to NOT succeed in business” sort of way.
Actually about the strategy of not being strategic. And how that is our sneakified way of being successful.
Specifically it was about using Twitter and social-media-ey stuff in a non-gross, non-overly-intentional way to have fun and get your thing in front of your Right People.
But without being (or feeling) icky or weird.
Anyway, we were going to raise the price back up to something semi-normal, and then we both got crazy-busy.
So. Last I heard, it was going up to the regular price of $64 on September 6.
Item! “What an extraordinary question!”
This post from Mahala Mazerov is so completely perfect.
Some questions are so outrageously inappropriate … that you don’t really have to answer them other than acknowledging that yes, they are … extraordinary.
What a great lesson.
“It makes a thundering statement while saying very little, and prevents getting hooked into any ugliness. Used skillfully, it cuts through so cleanly that nothing more needs to be said.”
She’s @LuminousHeart on Twitter.
Item! Update from the land of the Peculiar & Hilarious Shivanauts!
The “peculiar and hilarious” thing comes from Melynda’s sweet bit about Butterfly Wishes.
I really haven’t been doing anything on the Shivanauts blog other than planning for Berlin and the two months of madness fabulous workshops to come.
Well, that and working on the manual.
But things are moving and shifting under the surface. Go-go-gadget-epiphanies! Or something.
Item! Comments!
I’m still having fun with the theme of words that are cool to say over and over again.
So let’s stick with that.
And anything you think I should be reading!
That is all.
Happy reading.
And happy Blustery Windsday. See you tomorrow.
Naming the rain.
Remember when we named the moons?
I just found this cool, related thing! And it’s so perfect.
I was catching up on posts from Suzette Haden Elgin (swoon!) and she was talking about rain and naming types of rain. Twenty-seven of them.
This was inspired by a writing-form from Ron Carlson called “The Twenty-Seventh Rain” …
“THE HITCHHIKING RAIN, almost cold, a rain we had to ignore as we faced Route 8 …”
And she liked it so much that she came up with her own run of rain names:
“THE DRAGON RAIN that chased us across the fields and down the roads and wrapped us all up tight in warm wetness.”
Awesome.
So — of course — how could I not do some rain-naming of my own?
Havi’s Rains
- THE RAIN OF THE UNENDING SOAKING while headed to work, wondering how to make bearable nine hours of standing behind the bar in wet jeans and squishy cold socks.
- THE RAIN OF THE PORCH SWING that is solid and steady but never cold, and is sometimes accompanied by a glass of something, no ice.
- THE RAIN THAT FALLS ON YOUR TENT when you have a sprained ankle and are half-hiding half-dozing under mosquito netting, dreaming of someone special to you. And then there they are.
- THE RAIN OF LATE FOR SCHOOL always makes you feel a little more guilty, drops falling from the ends of your braids.
- HITTING THE GROUND RUNNING RAIN when lightning strikes right above your head, and you and your gentleman friend realize as soon as you pick yourselves up off the ground that a quick run to the cafe was actually a terrible idea.
- THE RAIN OF APOLOGIES. I’m sorry.
- THE RAIN OF NOT HAVING ANYWHERE TO GO because you have nowhere to go and this has been true for so long, and ducking into Tomer’s cafe, knowing that someone will buy you a coffee or a beer eventually.
- THE RAIN OF HOPING NO ONE WILL NOTICE THAT YOU’RE CRYING.
- THE RAIN OF THE GREENHOUSE that gives you permission to spend another hour curled up with your book and your bear and some cushions.
- THE MISTY RAIN OF DANCING THE DANCE OF SHIVA BY THE OCEAN. This rain is so fine that it breathes on you through the trees. Have you done Dance of Shiva in the rain? It’s like being the rain, that’s how beautiful it is. As if you are a fish or a flower or a star. It is liquid math. It is the perfection of nature and I am being it and it is inside me and through me and around me and just me.
- THE RAIN OF WATCHING PEOPLE MAKE SCRUNCHED-NOSE FACES against it. Because it was so sudden that no one has an umbrella. And you are on a tiny covered bench, watching the nose-scrunching.
- THE RAIN OF REBELLION AND DELIGHT that comes while everyone is nose-scrunching and running for cover. There is one little kid in a striped shirt who walks slowly, looking up, with a delighted smile. His hands are moving around his head and his expression says: Look at this! Drops! On me! They tickle! How completely wonderful to be alive in this moment and have water drop on my face! Wheeeeeeeeee!
- THE COMING AND GOING THUNDERSTORM RAIN OF TAOS that gushes and stops, gushes and stops, while I write and write and write, leaning up against the wall of the room where Willa Cather listened to the rain too.
- THE RAIN OF THERE IS NO REAL WORK TODAY when you work in an orchard … and so you wake up blinking, knowing that the day will be slow and meandering, painting ladders and taking long breaks. Another mug of instant coffee on a red-checkered table cloth. Sorting screws and bolts. Missing the trees.
- THE RAIN OF WEARING A SCARF AND GLOVES IN JULY in Berlin — in July! — hugging the borrowed, soggy peacoat to yourself, wrapping yourself up in imagined warmth and knowing that California is waiting and that the money for the ticket will emerge from somewhere. Because it has to. Because you remember the winter. And your hands remember the feel of hauling up buckets of coal from the scary, scary, scary basement.
- THE RAIN OF YES I LIVE IN PORTLAND* that is so strangely gentle. Look, it’s raining. Again. Walking through it, hand in hand with my gentleman friend, it leaves drops on my eyelashes. It’s a pretty rain.
*My brother has a little ditty he likes to sing that goes like this (must be sung out loud): “I live in Portland, Oregon … I think it’s going to pour again …”
- THE RAIN THAT MAKES TINY HOLES IN MOUNDS OF SNOW.
- THE RAIN OF KNOWING YOU DON’T HAVE TO GO ANYWHERE that is especially good for napping. But also for baking bread.
Play with me?
You totally don’t need twenty-seven. You don’t even need ten.
But five rains? Three rains? One rain?
Do you want to name rain with me?
It’s a pretty neat thing.
Very Personal Ads #7: support and solutions
Personal ads! They’re … personal! Very.
So my itty bitty personal ads made me realize that it’s time to make a regular practice of trying to feel okay asking for stuff.
Ever since I posted the first one asking my perfect house to find me, which united me with Hoppy House, I have been a fan of the madness that is personal ads.
And now it’s my weekly ritual. Yay, ritual!
Let’s do this thing.
Thing 1: remembering that there are many forms of support.
Here’s the situation:
I have this sticky pattern that I’m working on.
What happens is that I encounter a financial challenge or set-back-ey thing that forces me to reevaluate certain plans.
And then I feel anxious. And then I use my sneakified Let’s Go Make Some Monies technique (it’s very sensible, actually and not woo-woo-ish). And then I start to feel better.
Which is great, yes.
It’s just that the thing I’m trying to work on right now is building a different pattern.
And the new pattern I’m working on involves being able to remember that there are many forms of support and sustenance, and that not all of them involve me actively making something happen.
I’m trying to remember (in my body and in my head) that Making The Monies Under Duress — while a very useful skill — is just one of the many ways that support can come into my life.
I can still use my technique. I just want to stop relying on it so much.
Ways this might work:
My eyes will open to all the support that is already around me.
I will have big crazy realizations while doing Shiva Nata, and the resulting epiphanies will be swift, hot and buttered.
Something astonishing will happen and this something will be full of grace and coolness.
Simple changes. I’m open to surprises.
My commitment.
I will continue to be totally grateful for this skill I have, that I learned the hardest of hard ways and that has saved my ass on more than a few occasions.
I will even teach my technique at some point (so far I’ve only given it to private clients and my Kitchen Table people).
As new forms of support come into my life (or: as I get better at recognizing the many forms of support that are already there), I will wave to them happily and say hi!
I will practice trying to experience what it’s like to be joyful and playful with this theme of support.
I will be kind and patient with myself when hard, hard memories come up from those times when I felt completely bereft of support.
Thing 2: I need a new server. And a perfect simple solution.
Here’s the situation:
I never, ever thought I would complain about this — and yeah, I’m not complaining — but this site is crazy popular. And I have a lot of sites.
And my Kitchen Table forum is ridiculously active, and the upshot is that it really, really needs its own server so it can stay speedy.
And of course this is not the best timing since I’m off to teach in North Carolina this weekend and then flying off to Berlin for two months of giving workshops.
Here’s what I want:
Perfect simple solutions.
I already have the perfect person to set everything up for me (thanks to a past Very Personal Ad that brought me the fabulous Tech Pirate Charlotte.
But I want everything else to go smoothly. And I want a chunk of money to cover tech support expenses, which have been pretty out of control this year.
Ways this could happen:
I don’t know.
I’m just asking for a happy, easy resolution to this situation.
My commitment.
To be appreciative and patient. Or try to be.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
Last time I asked for recommendations for places to hold a retreat. And got some thirty plus suggestions.
One of my pirate crew is going through them and figuring out which ones can work best. So that was cool!
I also learned that a lot of retreat places have appallingly confusing websites and also seem to be fond of having their “about our rates” pages actually be Error 404 pages.
Oh how I give business lectures in my head when I’m hoping to bring someone a huge chunk of income and they don’t let me.
I don’t know if there is news on Chrisandra’s ad from last week, but she wrote a more thorough ad and it’s awesome and I will post it here as a comment.
And I am still mulling things over with the title of the Shivanaut’s Manual. But we got some super interesting suggestions and I have my thinking cap on. So that part is awesome too.
Comments. Since I’m already asking …
I am adding to my practice of asking for stuff by being more specific about I would like to receive in the comments. And that way, if you feel like leaving one (you totally don’t have to), you get to be part of this experiment too. 🙂
Here’s what I want:
- Your own personal ads, small or large. Things you’ve asked for. Or are asking for. Or would like to ask for.
- Thoughts or ideas about ways any of the personal ads listed here could come true.
What I would rather not have:
- Reality theories.
- Shoulds. As in, “You should be doing it like this” or “That’s not the right way to ask for things — instead it should be like x, y and z”
- To be judged or psychoanalyzed.
My commitment.
I am committing to getting better at asking for things even when asking feels weird. To give time and thought to the things that people say, and to interact with their ideas and with my own stuff as compassionately and honestly as is possible for me.
Thanks, guys!
Friday Check-in #54: Irony and Pixels edition
Because it’s Friday AGAIN. And because traditions are important. In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of self-reflection.
And you get to join in if you feel like it.
Oh, Friday. How I have missed you.
I think this week was somehow extra long.
Selma has been especially anti-social and doing lots of hiding in the closet. I think it’s because she knows we have a lot of travel coming up.
Anyway, the week.
The hard stuff
Ran out of my healthy boundaries. Oh the irony.
So I have this genius bottle of Healthy Boundaries spray.
No, seriously. It’s a thing. That you can buy. I know! I got mine here.
When I bought it, the whole “having healthy boundaries” thing was basically my big life theme.
So I figured, even if having a spray for it (seriously, what?!) totally doesn’t work, it could at least remind me that this is the big thing I’m working on.
I wanted it to be one of my wacky daily rituals to help keep me focused on healing this particular piece of extra-determined stuck.
Plus Deborah is one of my students and she’s amazing and I wanted to support her.
So I started using it. And then — to my complete and utter astonishment — the healthy boundaries stuckness just kind of stopped being an issue.
I don’t know how to explain it better than that. It almost seemed to heal itself. I kept using the spray in my morning meditation, but it just wasn’t a big deal anymore.
But this week we had guests and I realized: oh crap crap crap I’m out of healthy boundaries!
Which is really funny. Except that I really did want my spray. Now I’m just going to order a bunch of stuff at once, just in case.
Three weeks!
Despite the fact that I go on a little teaching pilgrimage to Germany every single year, it always sneaks up on me.
So I’m flying in less than three weeks and basically only just realized that now.
Eeeeeeeeeeeeee. So much to do.
The stress. Ugh.
Seriously? I’m broken out like a teenager.
It’s charming.
The good stuff
My favorite uncle came to visit!
And he brought plums! From his tree!
And a loaf of bread that he baked.
And everything is better when he’s around.
Sitting on the porch swing with my gentleman friend.
This is the best part of summer.
The New Mexico food cart.
One of my favorite things about Portland is its strong food cart culture.
That’s even kind of why we moved here. Yes, I am the kind of person who can be swayed by food carts.
But the New Mexico food cart? Yum!
We went on a pilgrimage there with Denise. It was practically an expotition. And then (extra random!) ran into Dana the Spicy Princess who was also headed there at exactly the same time.
Fabulous.
“If you’re such a genius, how come you’ve got butter on your tie?”
Actually, I am kind of tempted to steal Naomi’s line where she crowns herself “the greatest marketer in Christendom!”
But I’ll just say that I did the quietest, most hidden tiny secretive “hey, I’m teaching a course” announcement ever (one paragraph in the Wednesday Item! post).
And it filled up in under twenty-four hours. With the most amazing people.
Yay. Seriously, let’s hear it for non-promotional hard-to-get marketing that isn’t actually marketing.
Also, it’s my party and I can quote Moonstruck if I want to.
And I’m really, really looking forward to teaching this stuff.
Also, I redid my Shivanaut postcards.
I’ve had these postcards forever (three years? more?) and they so desperately needed a redesign … and I’ve finally run out.
Actually, I hadn’t actually read one of them in years because you know, what kind of person reads their own promotional literature or whatever it’s called?
And was astonished to find out just how spectacularly useless and boring it was. (Really? I send those? To people?)
Anyway, I sat down and scribbled out new text. It took about five minutes.
My gentleman friend: Brilliant writer mouse!
Me: Remember how many weeks it took me to write the copy for the first batch of these? Good grief! The strugglings! The agonies!
My gentleman friend: Yeah, and it wasn’t even very good!
Me: Awwwww … foot-in-mouth mouse.
The new ones are GORGEOUS. And funny. And I love them.
And … new at the meme beach house!
Yes, that’s a Stuism too.
My brother and I have this thing where we come up with ridiculous band names and then say in this really pretentious, knowing tone, “Oh, well, you know, it’s just one guy.”
So this week, I bring you:
Pickles Per Inch
My gentleman friend: “Do you mean pixels per inch?.”
Me: (shrugs) “It’s just one guy.”
But where are the Stuisms?!
I know. Actually, I feel kind of bad about it.
But most of the posts this week were written a while ago. You know, so I could put my time to working on the Shiva Nata Manual For Crazed Shivanauts. Right. Still no title.
So I was mostly editing this week, which is something that Stu is terrible at.
So no Stuisms. He’ll be back next week. Loud and clear, I’m sure.
That’s it for me …
And yes yes yes, of course you can join in my Friday ritual right here in the comments bit if you feel like it.
Yeah? Anything hard and/or good happen in your week?
And, as always, have a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious weekend. And a happy week to come.