Got some sweet juicy clients
know they got plenty of green
looks like I won't see my part
'til my kid turns 16.
I got the cash flow woes,
oh baby feels like a gray, gray day
got the cash flow woes
when them clients gonna pay?
mmmm love letter came in the mail
just yesterday noon
say the electric man comin'
to turn my lights of soon.
I got the cash flow woes
oh baby feels like a gray gray day
got the cash flow woes
when them clients gonna pay?
You know you poor (po), baby
When you 'fraid to answer the door (do), baby
The man come to get your Ford (Fo), baby
And give it a tow, baby.
Nothin you can do but cry, baby
And wave goodbye, baby
You get your shotgun and try, baby
But you better better better aim it high, high, high.
I got the cash flow woes
oh baby feels like a gray gray day
got the cash flow woes
when them clients gonna pay?
You know they like what I do
Say my words cut through the haze
But when I ask for my taste
They keep tellin' me THIRTY more days.
I got the cash flow woes
oh baby feels like a gray gray day
got the cash flow woes
when them clients gonna pay?
Now our sweet brown-eyed baby
turns six oh six next week
what little monney we had
the tooth fairy gave for her teeth.
I got the cash flow woes
oh baby feels like a gray gray day
got the cash flow woes
when them clients gonna pay?
September 27, 2003
Breaking Up (with a client) Is Hard to Do?
I've never been very good at saying goodbye. But maybe I should. At a minimum, I need to set up some ground rules I can live with. I need the work, yes. I need the money, yes. But do I need the upset stomach? Am I not too old to be "yelled at?"
hmmmm.
I can't help thinking that if I were a man, I'd be handling this better. I don't think I'd be letting myself get bullied into a situation I just don't want. Plenty of women have a right to jump in here and say, it's not a man or woman thing, it's a Jeneane thing. Maybe so. Maybe not. There are blurred edges. I know that.
I'm used to all kinds of clients and client types. I've always been a darling among clients. Even the toughest clients have always trusted me and shown me respect* because I kill myself to get the job done and deliver results, fast. (Better known as mistake exhibit A). And I usually don't mind when they don't treat me with respect. As long as they don't block the road to me getting my job done. And as long as they pay me well.
Maybe it's about setting boundaries, limits on my time and availability, putting some framework around the services I offer, maybe even first define them to MYSELF.
I've failed at putting processes and structure in place within my own business, because I've been running so fast to get and complete projects. That part is my fault. I'm running amuck treating every project like a meaningful but improvisational conversation rather than a structured engagement. When someone asks what exactly I do, although I do it every day, I'm still not sure how to answer it. When someone asks what value I bring, it's easier to show them than to explain it.
I think I need a business web site. To do some messaging and marketing for myself. The cobbler's children and all....
I think that would help me structure myself, define myself. And may even save or improve the relationship with the client that today I wish I didn't have.
I'm moving so fast to stay ahead of the wind.
It's time to slow down.
To take a look at what I want to do when I grow up.
Thank you for letting me turn a post that was going to be a rant into a possible solution. Ain't blogging cool that way?
*except for those within the 666 corporation
hmmmm.
I can't help thinking that if I were a man, I'd be handling this better. I don't think I'd be letting myself get bullied into a situation I just don't want. Plenty of women have a right to jump in here and say, it's not a man or woman thing, it's a Jeneane thing. Maybe so. Maybe not. There are blurred edges. I know that.
I'm used to all kinds of clients and client types. I've always been a darling among clients. Even the toughest clients have always trusted me and shown me respect* because I kill myself to get the job done and deliver results, fast. (Better known as mistake exhibit A). And I usually don't mind when they don't treat me with respect. As long as they don't block the road to me getting my job done. And as long as they pay me well.
Maybe it's about setting boundaries, limits on my time and availability, putting some framework around the services I offer, maybe even first define them to MYSELF.
I've failed at putting processes and structure in place within my own business, because I've been running so fast to get and complete projects. That part is my fault. I'm running amuck treating every project like a meaningful but improvisational conversation rather than a structured engagement. When someone asks what exactly I do, although I do it every day, I'm still not sure how to answer it. When someone asks what value I bring, it's easier to show them than to explain it.
I think I need a business web site. To do some messaging and marketing for myself. The cobbler's children and all....
I think that would help me structure myself, define myself. And may even save or improve the relationship with the client that today I wish I didn't have.
I'm moving so fast to stay ahead of the wind.
It's time to slow down.
To take a look at what I want to do when I grow up.
Thank you for letting me turn a post that was going to be a rant into a possible solution. Ain't blogging cool that way?
*except for those within the 666 corporation
September 25, 2003
No, really. BigPR is fine. Pulse good. Blood Pressure Good.... Uh, wait a sec.... Code Blue!
And in today's news: Ketchum Roots Torn from City in Merger.
I swear, I didn't know a thing. Honest. Call it intuition.
{sniff. sniff. she sheds a tear.}
"There will still be an office in Pittsburgh, but as part of the move to be more efficient, the agency is laying off six employees, bringing total employment to an estimated 20."
Film at 11.
I swear, I didn't know a thing. Honest. Call it intuition.
{sniff. sniff. she sheds a tear.}
"There will still be an office in Pittsburgh, but as part of the move to be more efficient, the agency is laying off six employees, bringing total employment to an estimated 20."
Film at 11.
David, did you remember the wheat bread?
It isn't exactly newsworthy what happened to me in Publix last week. But in the context of blogging, it was, well, one of those moments that makes you wonder, "What's going on here?"
I dragged my tired behind through the store, no list, a bottle of soda here, some Lunchables there, an uninspired grab for yogurt here, an obligatory package of toilet paper there. When I was done I had 60 percent of what I thought I might have come to the grocery store to get. I was more anxious to finish than to contemplate what we were actually "out of" at home.
That's me, that's you. We always pick the slowest line. But the cashiers at Publix are friendly. I wasn't that friendly when I worked the register at K-Mart in my late teens. But these kids seem to enjoy their jobs. And that makes the slow line bearable.
When I finished checking out, I pushed my cart ahead and turned back to get the receipt I almost forgot. That's when I saw him.
"It's David Weinberger!" my central nervous system said. Before I knew what was happening, the smile was painted on my face and I had inhaled, ready to come out with a loud, "DAVID!"
Now you should know, I've "known" David as a blogger for what, two years or so? I read Cluetrain and generally travel in the same blog circles as David. But I've never actually met the man. Never seen him in three dimensions. Only two.
And yet, for those couple of seconds, this poor fellow I stood beaming at WAS David Weinberger to me. So many introductions ran through my head: "David--It's ME, Jeneane!" "David, you shop here?" "Hey, Joho, HO HO HO!"
Then I remembered, in that gnawing physical world disconnect, that David doesn't live in Atlanta. I think he lives in Boston. Or near there. No, David wouldn't be shopping at my Publix. No, this wasn't David Weinberger. No, this isn't the land of blogs. No this is the real world. No. No. No. Behave yourself.
What a let down. To have thought I bumped into a real live blogger, by accident, a celebrity of sorts, in my very own Publix. Only to find out it was a man, like any other, trying to get his bread and milk on his way home from work.
Soon though.
Soon it might be that we're grocery shopping with more bloggers than we are non-bloggers. In our lifetime, I bet. We'll be standing in line at our local Blockbuster and recognize someone we only know textually. Or pixelly. And it will be like that.
It will be one of those moments that make your synapses fire, that bring you such joy, a re-uniting with an old friend, like that day last week when I saw David at Publix.
I dragged my tired behind through the store, no list, a bottle of soda here, some Lunchables there, an uninspired grab for yogurt here, an obligatory package of toilet paper there. When I was done I had 60 percent of what I thought I might have come to the grocery store to get. I was more anxious to finish than to contemplate what we were actually "out of" at home.
That's me, that's you. We always pick the slowest line. But the cashiers at Publix are friendly. I wasn't that friendly when I worked the register at K-Mart in my late teens. But these kids seem to enjoy their jobs. And that makes the slow line bearable.
When I finished checking out, I pushed my cart ahead and turned back to get the receipt I almost forgot. That's when I saw him.
"It's David Weinberger!" my central nervous system said. Before I knew what was happening, the smile was painted on my face and I had inhaled, ready to come out with a loud, "DAVID!"
Now you should know, I've "known" David as a blogger for what, two years or so? I read Cluetrain and generally travel in the same blog circles as David. But I've never actually met the man. Never seen him in three dimensions. Only two.
And yet, for those couple of seconds, this poor fellow I stood beaming at WAS David Weinberger to me. So many introductions ran through my head: "David--It's ME, Jeneane!" "David, you shop here?" "Hey, Joho, HO HO HO!"
Then I remembered, in that gnawing physical world disconnect, that David doesn't live in Atlanta. I think he lives in Boston. Or near there. No, David wouldn't be shopping at my Publix. No, this wasn't David Weinberger. No, this isn't the land of blogs. No this is the real world. No. No. No. Behave yourself.
What a let down. To have thought I bumped into a real live blogger, by accident, a celebrity of sorts, in my very own Publix. Only to find out it was a man, like any other, trying to get his bread and milk on his way home from work.
Soon though.
Soon it might be that we're grocery shopping with more bloggers than we are non-bloggers. In our lifetime, I bet. We'll be standing in line at our local Blockbuster and recognize someone we only know textually. Or pixelly. And it will be like that.
It will be one of those moments that make your synapses fire, that bring you such joy, a re-uniting with an old friend, like that day last week when I saw David at Publix.
September 24, 2003
bump
I'm bumping the last post into second position so Halley can read it in something other than 9 point Times New Roman, or whatever this horrid font size is. I think she still has one eye to go.
So, the question got popped today
Yes. That one: "What are you--a freelance writer, a PR person..." I could almost hear a silent "Or what?" at the end of the sentence.
Oh boy. I decided to answer it, since I've been getting the question for a couple of months now. But it wasn't an easy answer, and it took me a really long and winding email to explain it to the person asking, not to mention myself.
So much for my elevator statement.
Messaging Department, take a note.
I mean, in the traditional corporate career, you either write contributed articles and case studies and press kits and the like, or you write journalistically. You pick. One's a sleezy profession, one's honorable. One people run from, the other they like to rub elbows with.
Here, look at my poetry. We write kind of similar stuff, don't you think?
Well, no. I mean, not really. But okay. I like it when people like me. That works. So sure.
No one ever says, Oooooooh! Did you write that contributed article on Data Warehousing in DM Review last month? Was that your story on the customer information architecture by that CEO in Healthcare Informatics? {swoon}
No. That activity is not becoming for a writer. It simply pays the bills.
i.e.=sellout.
For my entire career, it's been a cut and dry answer for me. At Kodak it was technical writing; at STI, marketing and PR writing, at Crescent the same, at Ketchum more of the same times 20.
Even the stuff I wrote under my own name over those years, some that paid pretty well, was somehow separate from how I made my living. You know, my CAREER.
How I made my living was PR and Marketing writing.
But how I make my living now is not that simple. Because, if you've been following along with the home game, you know I got laidoff--or should I say I declined their offer to stay--by the Passion and Precision in Communication folks in April.
So, today I do everything.
Whatever interests me and pays, I do it.
And that isn't what most people do.
You're agency or you're corporate.
You're a PR person or you're a writer.
Always sides. Always dividing lines. Always a way to separate voice from itself.
So today, I find myself doing both kinds of writing within a business landscape that has been oiled and tuned for decades to see the dividing line, the hierarchy, the bottom feeders of PR versus the editorial elite.
And I don't fit either mold. Or I fit both. I'm in Media Map as a weblog journalist. Soon I'll be in Media Map as a freelance writer. I also use Media Map for one of my clients, the only one currently for whom I do PR.
What do you make of that? What does that make me?
Yesterday, when this very issue started swirling around my head, I decided that the identity crisis I'm going through is less about ME and more about a subtle change that's taking place around VOICE. Voice with a capital V. Thanks to blogging.
The way I see it today is that the imaginary lines that have for so long separated and silenced human beings as Voices are in place largely because the human voice doesn't fit within the business model, preferences, or pet peeves of big media NOR does it fit the business models, preferences, and brown nosing of BigPR. Not to mention corporations in general, AKA: the client.
Thanks to the Net and most especially blogging, the human voice is beginning, ever so subtly, to rise to the top. To become media. Voice as media resonataing with message. It doesn't matter the outlet, the voice is becoming the place of broadcast wattage. What that means is that I don't care whether I read it in CIO magazine under Halley Suitt's name, or whether Halley Suitt writes it under Jack Bennett's (who? i dunno--it's just a name) name, or if she writes it for Penthouse. You can't deny her voice. I'll know it's her. Even when it's not her. You see?
Give me a Suitt, hold the mayo, extra ketchup.
It's like that. It's a Kleenex thing.
Our day is here. We used to have to bury our voices in business. But that's changing. Even if it's changing because the loudest and most obnoxious among us are being cast out.
GOOD! That's GOOD!
If we are doing nothing else here, we are honing our ears for honesty.
Bloggers know when something sounds dishonest--it doesn't hold our interest for long. We know when someone is telling us something from the gut, something they believe in. We are captivated. It doesn't matter if they're telling us about running out of paper towels and having nothing left to blow their noses in, or if they're telling us the GMAC mini van they bought already sucks wastewater, it is the VOICE----the heart, the soul----of the writer we're tuning into here.
And you once you've tuned into that, you can't tune out just because business wants you to.
You can't turn off genuine voice--you want more and more and more of it, because it makes you feel alive. You hear the heartbeat within it. You know someone's in there.
Tap a vein, I'm comin' in.
Where was I going with this?
Oh yes. The "What am I" question.
I think, from here forward, my answer will be: A blogger.
This other stuff I do, it's just markin' time.
Can I hear an Amen?
Oh boy. I decided to answer it, since I've been getting the question for a couple of months now. But it wasn't an easy answer, and it took me a really long and winding email to explain it to the person asking, not to mention myself.
So much for my elevator statement.
Messaging Department, take a note.
I mean, in the traditional corporate career, you either write contributed articles and case studies and press kits and the like, or you write journalistically. You pick. One's a sleezy profession, one's honorable. One people run from, the other they like to rub elbows with.
Here, look at my poetry. We write kind of similar stuff, don't you think?
Well, no. I mean, not really. But okay. I like it when people like me. That works. So sure.
No one ever says, Oooooooh! Did you write that contributed article on Data Warehousing in DM Review last month? Was that your story on the customer information architecture by that CEO in Healthcare Informatics? {swoon}
No. That activity is not becoming for a writer. It simply pays the bills.
i.e.=sellout.
For my entire career, it's been a cut and dry answer for me. At Kodak it was technical writing; at STI, marketing and PR writing, at Crescent the same, at Ketchum more of the same times 20.
Even the stuff I wrote under my own name over those years, some that paid pretty well, was somehow separate from how I made my living. You know, my CAREER.
How I made my living was PR and Marketing writing.
But how I make my living now is not that simple. Because, if you've been following along with the home game, you know I got laidoff--or should I say I declined their offer to stay--by the Passion and Precision in Communication folks in April.
So, today I do everything.
Whatever interests me and pays, I do it.
And that isn't what most people do.
You're agency or you're corporate.
You're a PR person or you're a writer.
Always sides. Always dividing lines. Always a way to separate voice from itself.
So today, I find myself doing both kinds of writing within a business landscape that has been oiled and tuned for decades to see the dividing line, the hierarchy, the bottom feeders of PR versus the editorial elite.
And I don't fit either mold. Or I fit both. I'm in Media Map as a weblog journalist. Soon I'll be in Media Map as a freelance writer. I also use Media Map for one of my clients, the only one currently for whom I do PR.
What do you make of that? What does that make me?
Yesterday, when this very issue started swirling around my head, I decided that the identity crisis I'm going through is less about ME and more about a subtle change that's taking place around VOICE. Voice with a capital V. Thanks to blogging.
The way I see it today is that the imaginary lines that have for so long separated and silenced human beings as Voices are in place largely because the human voice doesn't fit within the business model, preferences, or pet peeves of big media NOR does it fit the business models, preferences, and brown nosing of BigPR. Not to mention corporations in general, AKA: the client.
Thanks to the Net and most especially blogging, the human voice is beginning, ever so subtly, to rise to the top. To become media. Voice as media resonataing with message. It doesn't matter the outlet, the voice is becoming the place of broadcast wattage. What that means is that I don't care whether I read it in CIO magazine under Halley Suitt's name, or whether Halley Suitt writes it under Jack Bennett's (who? i dunno--it's just a name) name, or if she writes it for Penthouse. You can't deny her voice. I'll know it's her. Even when it's not her. You see?
Give me a Suitt, hold the mayo, extra ketchup.
It's like that. It's a Kleenex thing.
Our day is here. We used to have to bury our voices in business. But that's changing. Even if it's changing because the loudest and most obnoxious among us are being cast out.
GOOD! That's GOOD!
If we are doing nothing else here, we are honing our ears for honesty.
Bloggers know when something sounds dishonest--it doesn't hold our interest for long. We know when someone is telling us something from the gut, something they believe in. We are captivated. It doesn't matter if they're telling us about running out of paper towels and having nothing left to blow their noses in, or if they're telling us the GMAC mini van they bought already sucks wastewater, it is the VOICE----the heart, the soul----of the writer we're tuning into here.
And you once you've tuned into that, you can't tune out just because business wants you to.
You can't turn off genuine voice--you want more and more and more of it, because it makes you feel alive. You hear the heartbeat within it. You know someone's in there.
Tap a vein, I'm comin' in.
Where was I going with this?
Oh yes. The "What am I" question.
I think, from here forward, my answer will be: A blogger.
This other stuff I do, it's just markin' time.
Can I hear an Amen?
Let Us Take Stock
You writers know how it is. You work on a project. You're close. It's almost done. Everyone's happy. You're ecstatic because if you have to write one more word, even if it's only a five or six letter word, you think your knees will give out. You have no words left. Your brain has been sucked dry. Someone asks you your name, you say, "Ummm?"
Right, but it's almost done, so your brain cells start to regenerate--out of habit more than anything else.
And with the new brain cells, the old ones receed. Any knowledge you had on what you were writing about begins to fade. Soon it will all be gone. When you read the result in a week or two or three, it will all be brand new, as if you'd never seen it before in your life.
You'll think, wow, did I write that? Sometimes when you ask yourself that question, it's because the writing sounds so good. And sometimes it's because it sucks so bad. But either way, you dance about on light feet that day because the project is officially done.
Well, mine's not.
I thought we were close. You know how that is. Ooooo. So close you can taste it, and then a hump in the process, and more interviews, and more re-writes, and that's just the way it goes.
But you can't help it. You dig deep for the inspiration to keep pumping the words out. You're so desperate you dig into your cliche basket with renewed vigor. Anything. Anything. Have to keep pushing. Must get it done. Leverage Leverage Leverage.
Keep.
on.
one.
word.
at.
a.
time.
I have created this day the writer's serenity prayer:
God grant me the serenity to accept the edits I must change, the courage not to change the sentences that make sense, and the wisdom to know the difference.
SO in honor of where I am today, I've decided to take stock. Certainly, there are many worse things than a project that won't end. Certainly, there are many worse professions in life than those that keep you stuck to the couch, arms stretched forward, perched over these black keys like EltonFuckingJohn.
Certainly.
Now for two categories designed to help make me thankful for the day...
DOING THIS IS BETTER THAN:
Walking 8 miles to the store. But not better than walking 2 miles to the store.
An all-day workshop on anything.
Not smoking
Waiting in line at Motor Vehicles
A yearly OBGYN appointment
WHAT I WOULD RATHER BE SUFFERIING THROUGH INSTEAD OF THIS:
Laying flat on the floor, face down, being whipped six to eight times on the back with a [[name your implement]]. I would not rather be whipped more than eight times. And I would rather nails not be used.
A dental cleaning
1-hour traffic jam, but not 3 hour traffic jam
Cramps
A fall on grass, but not on concrete
Whole-house vacuuming.
That should give you an idea of how my day's going so far. So, how's your day going?
Right, but it's almost done, so your brain cells start to regenerate--out of habit more than anything else.
And with the new brain cells, the old ones receed. Any knowledge you had on what you were writing about begins to fade. Soon it will all be gone. When you read the result in a week or two or three, it will all be brand new, as if you'd never seen it before in your life.
You'll think, wow, did I write that? Sometimes when you ask yourself that question, it's because the writing sounds so good. And sometimes it's because it sucks so bad. But either way, you dance about on light feet that day because the project is officially done.
Well, mine's not.
I thought we were close. You know how that is. Ooooo. So close you can taste it, and then a hump in the process, and more interviews, and more re-writes, and that's just the way it goes.
But you can't help it. You dig deep for the inspiration to keep pumping the words out. You're so desperate you dig into your cliche basket with renewed vigor. Anything. Anything. Have to keep pushing. Must get it done. Leverage Leverage Leverage.
Keep.
on.
one.
word.
at.
a.
time.
I have created this day the writer's serenity prayer:
God grant me the serenity to accept the edits I must change, the courage not to change the sentences that make sense, and the wisdom to know the difference.
SO in honor of where I am today, I've decided to take stock. Certainly, there are many worse things than a project that won't end. Certainly, there are many worse professions in life than those that keep you stuck to the couch, arms stretched forward, perched over these black keys like EltonFuckingJohn.
Certainly.
Now for two categories designed to help make me thankful for the day...
DOING THIS IS BETTER THAN:
Walking 8 miles to the store. But not better than walking 2 miles to the store.
An all-day workshop on anything.
Not smoking
Waiting in line at Motor Vehicles
A yearly OBGYN appointment
WHAT I WOULD RATHER BE SUFFERIING THROUGH INSTEAD OF THIS:
Laying flat on the floor, face down, being whipped six to eight times on the back with a [[name your implement]]. I would not rather be whipped more than eight times. And I would rather nails not be used.
A dental cleaning
1-hour traffic jam, but not 3 hour traffic jam
Cramps
A fall on grass, but not on concrete
Whole-house vacuuming.
That should give you an idea of how my day's going so far. So, how's your day going?
crap
no time to play. thinking I was done with this recent big push on web copy was, well, wishful at best. I'm back to the grind this week. No time to ponder the better side of life among the blogs.
In real world news, our Jenna turns six on Tuesday. In the last week and a half, she's lost TWO bottom teeth. Truly looking like a six year old now. amazing. what happens. time. it goes. and goes. and then we're done I guess.
more soon. stay upbeat.
In real world news, our Jenna turns six on Tuesday. In the last week and a half, she's lost TWO bottom teeth. Truly looking like a six year old now. amazing. what happens. time. it goes. and goes. and then we're done I guess.
more soon. stay upbeat.
September 21, 2003
ahhhhhhhhh...
that was a sigh of relief.
I've not been here as much as I would like since Jenna wound up in the hospital because work picked up to a feverish pitch (get it--hospital/feverish?) right before she went in, and I've been racing ever since.
To everyone I haven't emailed back: I'm sorry
To everyone I haven't done what I promised I'd do: I'm sorry
To everyone I've done something to lately I shouldn't have: I'm sorry
To Jenna and George: I'm sorry.
Chalk it up to the limitations of human frailty. Over the last ten days I've dumped 65 pages of copy out of my head for a client. That's a lot of copy, even when you write fast and while you're sleeping. It's been a year since I've had to crunch like that, so I'm here to say the worst of it is done, for now, and I hope I can come out and play next week on my blog!!
You all have the day off tomorrow, 'cause I say so.
And that's WITH pay.
Enjoy!
I've not been here as much as I would like since Jenna wound up in the hospital because work picked up to a feverish pitch (get it--hospital/feverish?) right before she went in, and I've been racing ever since.
To everyone I haven't emailed back: I'm sorry
To everyone I haven't done what I promised I'd do: I'm sorry
To everyone I've done something to lately I shouldn't have: I'm sorry
To Jenna and George: I'm sorry.
Chalk it up to the limitations of human frailty. Over the last ten days I've dumped 65 pages of copy out of my head for a client. That's a lot of copy, even when you write fast and while you're sleeping. It's been a year since I've had to crunch like that, so I'm here to say the worst of it is done, for now, and I hope I can come out and play next week on my blog!!
You all have the day off tomorrow, 'cause I say so.
And that's WITH pay.
Enjoy!
September 19, 2003
One last thing...
I think these recent developments actually qualify me for Pirateship.
So, really, pirates talk like I do.
good night.
send chachkes.
or I'll have to slip aboard and steal them from you.
So, really, pirates talk like I do.
good night.
send chachkes.
or I'll have to slip aboard and steal them from you.
Now that I've located myself...
So, I thought I should report, now that I've found myself (see post below), and myself is a member of the media, that I can be bought. I'm not like those old school journalists. I'm biased, I'm poor (okay, maybe I'm like them that way), and I'm on the take.
Bring on your tired, your weary, your product enhancement press releases.
But you better send the cool t-shirts and pens and magnetic poetry and stress balls and yo-yos and leather binders and all those other cool things you send the real media.
Damnit.
And when you're not looking, I'll sell all the cool stuff you sent me on ebay to pay for hosting of this media outlet.
I also accept nice lunches where you can tell me all about what you're leveraging this month.
Sure, you want to do a press tour to my house, that's cool. Bring a toy for my kid.
I prefer to receive press releases never, and prefer to be contacted by email. Or carrier pigeon. YES, please send pigeons.
Yah, that's the ticket.
Bring on your tired, your weary, your product enhancement press releases.
But you better send the cool t-shirts and pens and magnetic poetry and stress balls and yo-yos and leather binders and all those other cool things you send the real media.
Damnit.
And when you're not looking, I'll sell all the cool stuff you sent me on ebay to pay for hosting of this media outlet.
I also accept nice lunches where you can tell me all about what you're leveraging this month.
Sure, you want to do a press tour to my house, that's cool. Bring a toy for my kid.
I prefer to receive press releases never, and prefer to be contacted by email. Or carrier pigeon. YES, please send pigeons.
Yah, that's the ticket.
A Funny Thing Happened on the Way Back to Media Map
I'm in it.
And so are a lot of you bloggers.
Remember when Dan Gillmor and others posted about getting pinged by annoying PR people from BigPR asking if their client can guest host (or some such nonsense) their weblogs?
Well I know why now. It's Media Map.
When I left Ketchum, I was an infrequent but pleased user of Media Map. I've always thought Media Map was the killer ap for media relations. I started using it when I was at Crescent back in 1997. It had some bugs back in those days, like don't try to click on page two of your search results because it just wasn't having that. But over the years, it's become a valuable tools of both big and small agencies.
I'm now using Media Map Performa for one of my clients. It's some version of media map that is basically the media map I remember from six months ago. It's good. No bugs like in the old days--least as I can tell so far.
In the database is just about every reporter, editor, broadcast journalist, publisher, producer, lapdancer and candlestick maker in the wonderful world of media. There are a number of ways to search them up, and a number of reports you can generate. It's not all bad for the reporters either. They get to state their pet peeves--like DON'T FUCKING CALL ME (mostly they don't say fucking); email me instead.
And would you believe many of them still prefer faxes for press releases--I'm assuming that's so they can easily ignore them altogether. Smart.
But that's not news.
The news to ME was this: Among the choices in the field for media "Outlet" -- along with magazines, journals, broadcast TV, Broadcast Radio, Online, Newsletters, etc -- is now--you guessed it--BLOGS.
PLABOMEASHGHOFLSHHH: Sound of Jeneane's mind being blown.
So, when I put my mind back together, naturally I searched on blogs.
And there was Allied, this very blog, proudly if not puzzlingly listed among the "A"s.
Right. Dig it.
I come to Media Map
in my role
as a PR person
searching
for various media outlets.
I dutifully look
for contacts names
and outlets there.
One of the outlets I find
is my very own blog,
this blog,
And one of the media contacts I find
is ME.
I, in essence, have found myself.
I never thought it would feel like this.
Is your head spinning yet?
And George is there, and Doc and David are there.
Here's a sampling of what Media Map says about some of us:
The Doc Searls Weblog covers computer technology, as well as current events, national, and international news.
And then about Doc himself, as the contact for the blog: Searls' blog covers computer technology, as well as current events, national, and international news. Searls is the Senior Editor of The Linux Journal. He prefers to receive all press releases and contact by e-mail. See the outlet overview for complete blog details and pitching tips. Topics covered - Emerging technology; Government: municipal, county, and natl.; News, international; News, national; Technology.
For George's blog, it says: Musick covers jazz and the music industry.
For David it says: Joho the Blog covers government and politics, technology, the Internet, other blogs, and the media.
And for this blog? Allied covers topics related to healthcare, public relations, technology and blogging, communications, and general business topics.
And about me as the contact for the blog: Sessum covers topics related to healthcare, public relations, technology and blogging, communications, general business topics, and race issues in her blog. She can be contacted by e-mail. See the outlet overview for complete blog details and pitching tips. Topics covered - Advertising, marketing, and PR; Business; Communications, technology; Healthcare; Internet; Social issues; Technology.
Before you get irate or excited (you know--I was basically stupified), know that Media Map has a blog too, and it's not a bad one. It's one of those mostly news blogs, but I generally hang out there for longer than five seconds, so that means I'm reading something. I think they're getting the hang of it. It's not Media Map I'm worried about. It's the masses of PR newbies at BigPR agencies that could begin to make the lives of bloggers difficult.
I'm afraid of this very likely sequence of events:
1) PR AE goes to media map.
2) Performs search for a business/technology media
3) IN THE FIELD FOR OUTLETS, SHE CLICKS ON "ALL"
4) Blogs appear in the search results among the usual suspects
5) She checks out a few blogs before pitching, but doesn't know how blogs or blogging work.
6) We bloggers begin getting bombarded with pitches from PR flacks just like traditional journalists do.
In answer to the question that I so hate -- "Are Bloggers Journalists?" -- we may not be allowed the power to answer that for ourselves in the end. We may just start getting pitched. And some of the stories will be interesting. Some may be so interesting that we bite on them. And then what are we?
And some of them will be really lame and annoying. Well, probably most.
And it will be up to each of us to decide what to do with these pitches.
The depressing part of blogs being part of media map is essentially what's depressing about most broadcast media in general and its happy lackey BigPR: Targeting, not talking.
If we could skip the search-and-pitch-at-100-miles-an-hour routine, and if more bloggers, businesspeople among them, and traditional journalists got to know each other as people--heaven forbid even switch voice and genres here and there--well then, we'd be talking. Literally.
As I sit here this evening pondering what I stumbled on today, I say good for Media Map for giving us a run in their database. But PR people PLEASE use blogs as an outlet with extreme caution. Otherwise you'll find your pitches and your names plastered up for the world to see. And your boss--the one who probably told you to find out about those new weblog things--won't be so happy about that.
But still there's an upside. When you get fired by that same clueless overlord, you can come blog with us.
And just wait; those same people will be lathering you up with praise hoping to get you to pick up a story or two....
;-)
And so are a lot of you bloggers.
Remember when Dan Gillmor and others posted about getting pinged by annoying PR people from BigPR asking if their client can guest host (or some such nonsense) their weblogs?
Well I know why now. It's Media Map.
When I left Ketchum, I was an infrequent but pleased user of Media Map. I've always thought Media Map was the killer ap for media relations. I started using it when I was at Crescent back in 1997. It had some bugs back in those days, like don't try to click on page two of your search results because it just wasn't having that. But over the years, it's become a valuable tools of both big and small agencies.
I'm now using Media Map Performa for one of my clients. It's some version of media map that is basically the media map I remember from six months ago. It's good. No bugs like in the old days--least as I can tell so far.
In the database is just about every reporter, editor, broadcast journalist, publisher, producer, lapdancer and candlestick maker in the wonderful world of media. There are a number of ways to search them up, and a number of reports you can generate. It's not all bad for the reporters either. They get to state their pet peeves--like DON'T FUCKING CALL ME (mostly they don't say fucking); email me instead.
And would you believe many of them still prefer faxes for press releases--I'm assuming that's so they can easily ignore them altogether. Smart.
But that's not news.
The news to ME was this: Among the choices in the field for media "Outlet" -- along with magazines, journals, broadcast TV, Broadcast Radio, Online, Newsletters, etc -- is now--you guessed it--BLOGS.
PLABOMEASHGHOFLSHHH: Sound of Jeneane's mind being blown.
So, when I put my mind back together, naturally I searched on blogs.
And there was Allied, this very blog, proudly if not puzzlingly listed among the "A"s.
Right. Dig it.
I come to Media Map
in my role
as a PR person
searching
for various media outlets.
I dutifully look
for contacts names
and outlets there.
One of the outlets I find
is my very own blog,
this blog,
And one of the media contacts I find
is ME.
I, in essence, have found myself.
I never thought it would feel like this.
Is your head spinning yet?
And George is there, and Doc and David are there.
Here's a sampling of what Media Map says about some of us:
The Doc Searls Weblog covers computer technology, as well as current events, national, and international news.
And then about Doc himself, as the contact for the blog: Searls' blog covers computer technology, as well as current events, national, and international news. Searls is the Senior Editor of The Linux Journal. He prefers to receive all press releases and contact by e-mail. See the outlet overview for complete blog details and pitching tips. Topics covered - Emerging technology; Government: municipal, county, and natl.; News, international; News, national; Technology.
For George's blog, it says: Musick covers jazz and the music industry.
For David it says: Joho the Blog covers government and politics, technology, the Internet, other blogs, and the media.
And for this blog? Allied covers topics related to healthcare, public relations, technology and blogging, communications, and general business topics.
And about me as the contact for the blog: Sessum covers topics related to healthcare, public relations, technology and blogging, communications, general business topics, and race issues in her blog. She can be contacted by e-mail. See the outlet overview for complete blog details and pitching tips. Topics covered - Advertising, marketing, and PR; Business; Communications, technology; Healthcare; Internet; Social issues; Technology.
Before you get irate or excited (you know--I was basically stupified), know that Media Map has a blog too, and it's not a bad one. It's one of those mostly news blogs, but I generally hang out there for longer than five seconds, so that means I'm reading something. I think they're getting the hang of it. It's not Media Map I'm worried about. It's the masses of PR newbies at BigPR agencies that could begin to make the lives of bloggers difficult.
I'm afraid of this very likely sequence of events:
1) PR AE goes to media map.
2) Performs search for a business/technology media
3) IN THE FIELD FOR OUTLETS, SHE CLICKS ON "ALL"
4) Blogs appear in the search results among the usual suspects
5) She checks out a few blogs before pitching, but doesn't know how blogs or blogging work.
6) We bloggers begin getting bombarded with pitches from PR flacks just like traditional journalists do.
In answer to the question that I so hate -- "Are Bloggers Journalists?" -- we may not be allowed the power to answer that for ourselves in the end. We may just start getting pitched. And some of the stories will be interesting. Some may be so interesting that we bite on them. And then what are we?
And some of them will be really lame and annoying. Well, probably most.
And it will be up to each of us to decide what to do with these pitches.
The depressing part of blogs being part of media map is essentially what's depressing about most broadcast media in general and its happy lackey BigPR: Targeting, not talking.
If we could skip the search-and-pitch-at-100-miles-an-hour routine, and if more bloggers, businesspeople among them, and traditional journalists got to know each other as people--heaven forbid even switch voice and genres here and there--well then, we'd be talking. Literally.
As I sit here this evening pondering what I stumbled on today, I say good for Media Map for giving us a run in their database. But PR people PLEASE use blogs as an outlet with extreme caution. Otherwise you'll find your pitches and your names plastered up for the world to see. And your boss--the one who probably told you to find out about those new weblog things--won't be so happy about that.
But still there's an upside. When you get fired by that same clueless overlord, you can come blog with us.
And just wait; those same people will be lathering you up with praise hoping to get you to pick up a story or two....
;-)
Oh, I forgot... Land like a Pirate
Pirates have different ways of boarding ships these days.
Technology is so cool.
bloody 'ell.
(Is that British or Pirate?)
Technology is so cool.
bloody 'ell.
(Is that British or Pirate?)
Fashionably Late to the Pirate Ball
You coulda knocked me over with a feather when I heard it was Talk Like a Pirate day from this fine Woman of the Sea and this this fine Woman of the Burning Parrot!
The only problem is, I've been walking around trying to talk like a pirate all day and I can't do it.
I can't get the cadence.
I can't get it.
But I am bold in my breeches. That must be good for something.
Yes, that's "Bold" not "Soiled".
Now THIS is what you do with spam.
BMO gets down on penis enlargement with a pretty darn hysterical post.
September 18, 2003
asleep girl walking
this is my blog. I can post what I want. sometimes you have to remind yourself of that. so if I want to whine about how tired I am, I can. I will. Too often lately I see bloggers critiquing other bloggers for their pettiness. You know those comments. They're the ones that try to belittle the writer by stating emphatically that what he or she is blogging about isn't important.
well fuck that.
when we started this mess called blogging, we were bloggiing to see what blogging was, and mostly, to have fun. The heavy posts were deep because they were a break from the free-for-all link-and-laugh fest that woke us all up and gave us a reason to get out here and show ourselves in the first place. Now there seems to be some kind of unspoken mandate that what we write should be meaningful and relate to "our readers."
again, fuck that.
This isn't a job, it's an adventure.
If I want to complain about how tired I am or how hard it still is to get my kid to sleep, I will. If I want to say, oh no, Jenna woke up with a sore throat this morning--which she did--and feel like crying all over this blog, I can.
If I want to write about driving to Walmart last week with George and Jenna to get printer cartridges, only to get half way there and say, "Uh, George, do you know what model the printer is?" And him slowing, breaking the car, getting ready to turn around so we could go back and look, me turning to Jenna, still 5, for a couple of weeks yet, asking: "Jenna, do you remember the printer model number?"
"Z-22."
Parents exchanging looks in the front seat.
Z-22. I think she's right.
And she is.
And we get the cartridge and say, wow, how did you remember that?
I don't know. I just remember seeing it.
And if I want to write about how our minds are so plyable at that age, so nimble and flexible and uncluttered, I can.
And if I want to mourn here that I already see the crap of humanity starting to fill little pieces of her mind, starting to infiltrate those innocent perfect sacred spots, the spots fighting to contain mistaken lyrics to songs sung loudly, to contain bright red printer model numbers, to hang on to the three big fingers she used to draw on the people she makes in her art, or her daddy's locks always sticking striaght up in those drawings, then I will.
Right.
And so, if I want to whine here, I'll whine. I don't want to have to be profound. Some days I can come here and say I'm tired as shit, feel as old as dirt, working too hard for what, losing myself again.
some days I come here and post pictures of lingerie barbie and GI Joe.
And I'll come here to look for some joy and games and jokes and stupidity and aimless ramblings from bloggers who remember what it was like.
And I'll continue to do whatever the fuck I want here.
And so should you.
well fuck that.
when we started this mess called blogging, we were bloggiing to see what blogging was, and mostly, to have fun. The heavy posts were deep because they were a break from the free-for-all link-and-laugh fest that woke us all up and gave us a reason to get out here and show ourselves in the first place. Now there seems to be some kind of unspoken mandate that what we write should be meaningful and relate to "our readers."
again, fuck that.
This isn't a job, it's an adventure.
If I want to complain about how tired I am or how hard it still is to get my kid to sleep, I will. If I want to say, oh no, Jenna woke up with a sore throat this morning--which she did--and feel like crying all over this blog, I can.
If I want to write about driving to Walmart last week with George and Jenna to get printer cartridges, only to get half way there and say, "Uh, George, do you know what model the printer is?" And him slowing, breaking the car, getting ready to turn around so we could go back and look, me turning to Jenna, still 5, for a couple of weeks yet, asking: "Jenna, do you remember the printer model number?"
"Z-22."
Parents exchanging looks in the front seat.
Z-22. I think she's right.
And she is.
And we get the cartridge and say, wow, how did you remember that?
I don't know. I just remember seeing it.
And if I want to write about how our minds are so plyable at that age, so nimble and flexible and uncluttered, I can.
And if I want to mourn here that I already see the crap of humanity starting to fill little pieces of her mind, starting to infiltrate those innocent perfect sacred spots, the spots fighting to contain mistaken lyrics to songs sung loudly, to contain bright red printer model numbers, to hang on to the three big fingers she used to draw on the people she makes in her art, or her daddy's locks always sticking striaght up in those drawings, then I will.
Right.
And so, if I want to whine here, I'll whine. I don't want to have to be profound. Some days I can come here and say I'm tired as shit, feel as old as dirt, working too hard for what, losing myself again.
some days I come here and post pictures of lingerie barbie and GI Joe.
And I'll come here to look for some joy and games and jokes and stupidity and aimless ramblings from bloggers who remember what it was like.
And I'll continue to do whatever the fuck I want here.
And so should you.
September 17, 2003
zzzzzzzzzz
When you fall asleep at the computer (and don't lie and tell me you don't do that), does your head nod off forward or backward? I'm a forward nodder all the way. Takes two bounces down for me to realize I'm asleep, and then I snap it back up and pretend it didn't happen.
yep.
back at it.
yep.
back at it.
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