The upside of the downturn

When the GFC first hit us, I panicked. Our collective income dropped. The bills piled up. Things looked grim. How do we support our family? What if we can’t make our mortgage payments? What do we do when the work dries up (because we run our own businesses and we can’t exactly pay ourselves redundancies).

I was spinning down faster and faster in a spiral of negativity, fueled by the media, friends losing their jobs, the talk on the street (or around the water coolers)…

Then I kicked myself in the butt. Hard to do, in more ways than one. I thought of all the people who don’t even know there’s a global recession, because they spend their lives living like it’s always one. And I figured, if they can do it, we can.

So we sold stuff we didn’t need, refinanced loans, stopped the retail therapy, focused on paying off credit cards, started living lean. And it was okay. It actually felt good.

But I didn’t even think about (or value) the other side of slowing down. The part where you’re not juggling  way too many projects and stressing over deadlines. The part where you have time to think, time to learn, time to connect with people again.

And I’ve realised, over the past few weeks, that there are other things about the GFC that are really, really good. We do more family stuff, and we eat out less and cook together more. We’ve shed lots of stuff that’s been weighing us down (even though we didn’t know it). We’ve thought about what’s important to us, and what we really want out of life, and we’re making moves towards it. 

Because when you step out of that whole rat race thing, there’s time to catch your breath. And so much more headspace! You learn stuff about yourself that was being obliterated by the busy-ness… and you get so much more creative.

So yeah, there’s still those clouds hanging around, but it’s not all doom and gloom. Not in my head anyway!

elle x

sliding sideways – into the ‘art of moi’

Louise (Elle) and Sandra (Sash)

We’re sliding in sideways… into another blog. It’s called the art of moi, and it came out of us finding it so hard to make time to write. And we started asking ourselves when we might get around to it – since we seem to be driving the emergency response vehicle in everyone else’s lives.

The art of moi is about putting yourself back in the picture. It sounds very unhealthy, but it’s not about turning into divas. If it was, we’d have a long way to go.

We always seem to be working on finding time for ourselves, and getting past the guilt trippin’, so we figured you might be doing the same thing. That’s where it came from – who know’s where it’s going. Come along for the ride.

Visit http://artofmoi.wordpress.com, or follow us on http://twitter.com/artofmoi.

3 secrets for copywriters and marketers

If you’re balking at getting into social media…just do it! There’s literally millions of people out there blogging and twittering away, and sharing great info, insights and experiences.

It’s become an excellent filtering system, with your ‘community’ leading you to the really good stuff.

For example, yesterday I took half an hour out of my day to browse through some of my favourite bloggers. Something always catches my eye and gives me the nudge I need!

Like this great article from Gary Bencivenga (one of his fabulous Bencivenga Bullets): 3 Secrets for Multiplying Your Productivity, Success, Income, and Personal Happiness as a Copywriter or Marketer.

Those three ’secrets’ are great stuff. I especially like the 80/20 rule, which I’ve heard a lot about but never really looked into it. 

But wait…there’s (so much) more! So dive in and enjoy!

elle

The writers’ lunch

Solving the fly problem, writer style!

There’s something a bit decadent about stealing a few hours for yourself – and your writing buddy. Sash and I do it (almost) every Tuesday, and it’s brilliant.

It took us a while to set aside that time to feed our creative souls – and we still feel a tiny bit guilty that we’re not generating an income sitting there!

Is it a woman thing? We’re so used to looking out for everyone else’s needs and being on-call 24/7, that taking time out for ourselves takes enormous determination.

And we both know, from our own experience and talking to so many fellow writers, that it’s why we feel we shouldn’t take the time to write.

I love what Louise Doughty says in her book A Novel in a Year:

“The problem…with getting started seemed to stem from a common need, the desire for someone else to give them permission to go ahead with an activity that neither settles the bills nor involves paying attention to those we love.

…Hell will freeze over before I spend a morning folding clothes and putting them away in drawers when I need to be writing instead. If my family want their clothes, they know to look on the laundry rack.”

Don’t you love it when someone makes such perfect sense?

Our Tuesday Collabs start with a Pilates session, then coffee and fabulous GF banana bread at our favourite cafe in West End. Or, like today, lunch.

We spend the time catching up, planning or doing our next collaborative writing project, talking about the manuscripts we’re working on… So far this year, we’ve written a short film script, made serious progress on our manuscripts, and come up with some fun writing plans (and dreams).

Today, a fly flew into Sash’s shiraz. I’m not sure if that’s a sign – but it involved laughter, so it must have been.

We solved the fly problem, writer style – with our coasters and pens. And we’re so busy being creative and motivated, there’s really not much time left, these days, for guilt trips.

elle & sash

Easter Madness

Photo credit: freeimages.co.uk

Darrel Lea is packed. It’s the Thursday before Easter and I think the entire annual aid budget for a Third World Nation is being spent on chocolate.

First, I try to get into Darrel Lea through people lining up to buy their eggs. Then, overwhelmed by pressing bodies and chocolate cravings, I try to get out of Darrel Lea (without eggs).

That isn’t going to happen in a hurry. I say a gentle excuse-me to a lady in the line blocking my exit strategy. She doesn’t move forward or backward to let me pass. She just stares studiously ahead with a set jaw and an armful of moulded chocolate.

“Excuse Me,” I say, slightly louder. No response. I want to put my face very close to that determined jaw and say in a Clint Eastwood make-my-day voice, “I know you can see me and I know you can hear me…” But I vowed to give up egg-rage for Lent.

Instead, I gently nudge her toward the counter, hit the gap like a footy pro and flee through the egg-laden hordes.

I’m not sure if it’s age, cynicism or a lightly-oaked version of both, but I’ve completely lost the Easter – and Christmas – spirit.

The only thing that keeps me hanging in there is a penchant for warm Christmas pudding with lashings of custard, and smooth Swiss chocolate Easter eggs.

My children think I’m terribly jaded and unromantic. I don’t see their point. Okay, the Christmas tree is rather bedraggled. It’s a relic of their fading childhood and those bygone days when Christmas trees were genuine fake green.

They want to know when I’m getting married to their step-dad, although every time we mention a date now they just laugh. Which is understandable, I guess.

We’ve made a date every year for thirteen years. But just one look at those wedding buffet prices and the decision is difficult – skiing in the Dolomites, walking the Annapurna Trail… or a wedding. Gee, let me think.

Clearly, I don’t have an issue with romantic sunrises or snow-bound mountain lodges. It’s more a rejection of traditional events designed to bolster the flagging retail sector. From birthdays, weddings and christenings to Christmas, Mother’s Day and every other present-buying celebration, we are sucked into a never-ending purchasing cycle.

The only reason no-one has come up with ‘Kid’s Day’ is because there isn’t a parent out there who’d be fooled (or is there?). It’s Kids Day every day of the year. Even on Mother’s Day they ask me what I want, help me choose it, then steer me to the counter to hand over my own credit card.

Cynical? Who, me? Brand me what you like. I’m still going to pass on the whole faux celebration gig. Don’t buy me anything. What I really want is great company, conversation and laughter – oh, and to watch the sunrise over Machi Picchu sometime soon.

That’s it in a (chocolate) eggshell really.

elle x

Managing procrastination

When people hear you are a writer, one of the first things they ask is ‘where do you get your ideas from?’. This has always seemed a completely ridiculous question to me. I even embrace my hatred of it during writing workshops when somebody inevitably asks the question of a visiting author. I smugly think of the asker – Why are you here? If you need to ask the question you are obviously not a writer.  Perhaps I should be more sympathetic.

So who would I extend my sympathy to? The procrastinators of course.

And why? Well that’s pretty obvious. Because procrastination, I get. I mean right now, I’m writing this piece while reading Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird (as suggested by Elle), and all the while knowing I should be finishing my rewrite because it’s due by the end of next week.

But there it is – a-ha! You might think this is just another post, but really it’s procrastination management in action. Don’t worry, I’ll lay it all out for you because the mind of the procrastinator is infinitely tricky and convoluted, and often requires explanation.

You see the day started with me knowing what had to be done. So of course I didn’t do that. I dropped the kids at school (that had to be done too). Then I came home and realised I hadn’t actually eaten breakfast. I am not one to skip breakfast (so naturally that had to be done as well). But then sitting in an empty house eating breakfast in silence is a waste of time, so I thought I’d eat in my office, get the computer booted up and, hey, I could even watch some of that latest episode of Battlestar Galactica I downloaded from I-Tunes. Multitasking, I told myself.

Breakfast done, I turned off the visual stimulus. I’m no time waster.

So then I began tidying my desk, in readiness for what had to be done. But that involved moving the book, ‘Bird by Bird’, which I then thought I might begin reading… just to get me in the mood. I read a few pages. Then I flicked through to see exactly how many pages there were in the introduction. Let me tell you, it’s a very long introduction. I continued reading, my finger jammed between the pages at the beginning of chapter one. You see, I had a goal now. I knew when the useful procrastination would stop and my rewriting begin. But it was a really long introduction. My reader brain kept on reading, but my observer brain developed guilt and kept harping on about the reality of this not being useful to the day’s task of rewriting.  

I grabbed a pencil and stuck it between the pages of the book. The introduction could wait. Hey, I thought, I just stopped reading. And before that I stopped watching my favourite tv show. This was good. I was managing my procrastination.

I quickly began to type. On the blank page. About nothing to do with my rewrite.

But let’s not focus on the negative. Because the great thing is that it’s now 10.30am and I still have the whole day ahead of me. I’ve indulged all the little interests around me and I’m actually eager to get into the rewrite.

For some of us, procrastination is just part of the process. And perhaps it too can only be managed, bird by bird.