On communication, professional and otherwise.
by David Murray // 5 Comments
My old man fought in WWII, served in the Battle of the Bulge. But he worried about being called the "Greatest Generation," because it might be embarrassing to be introduced that way in heaven, "with Thomas Jefferson and Abraham Lincoln sitting there."
Happy Memorial Day, Dad. And hey to Abe.
by David Murray // 3 Comments
One of the filthy secrets of freelancing is that a freelancer never quite totally completely feels fully free.
There's no such thing as "paid time off," and no matter how many mental calisthenics you do to tell yourself you deserve the afternoon round of golf, a nagging feeling follows you for the first few holes: I should probably be doing more.
Which means you have to impose your own version of the personal day, the sick day, the mental health day or just the fuck-it-I'm-playing-hookey day.
The best idea I've seen lately for doing this on a regular, firm and institutional basis is the bright blue note at the bottom of the e-mail autosignature of a new Murrespondent, the freelance writer and editor Clare C. McDermott.
• Please note: I do not work on Mondays.
Brilliant.
Now, I'm fine with working on Mondays. In fact, I find that I go completely crazy if I try to do anything else on a Monday. Working on Monday is for getting a jump on the week, and keeping the week from getting a jump on you.
Nor do I want or need to take off every Friday, or any other day of the week. But I do want to officially assert my right to keep the "free" in freelance.
So I'm thinking of other Please note, that I might write, for my patrons:
• Please note: My lunches are two-hour sessions, because they usually include a workout before, and a short nap after.
• Please note: I work in the mornings. Jesus, do I work in the mornings! Because at Murray's Freelance Writing we have no meetings or dumb HR procedures or fat-chewing marplots, I get more real work done before noon on Monday than most people do all week. So in the afternoons if the weather's good, I'm often out golfing, or tearing around town on my motorcycle or hanging out with my daughter in order to refresh my spirit sufficiently to work like a wolverine again tomorrow morning. Talk then!
• Please note: Though writing is important, it is not an emergency. Talk to you tomorrow.
Writers, what Gone Fishin' sign would put up for your clients?
by David Murray // Leave a Comment
I was so nervous before last year's Leadership Communication Days, I got to New York at 8:00 a.m. the day before it started, just to case out … Manhattan? I wound up wandering around the city all day eating and drinking everything I could get my hands on, from McSorley's Saloon to the Oyster Bar Grand Central Station.
It was the first event of its kind, and as the organizer and moderator, I wondered: What will happen if everyone is shy? Or if one goon dominates the whole conversation? Or if people aren't comfortable enough to tell the truth? Or if everybody has problems but nobody had answers? Or if they don't listen to me when I demand that they turn off their Blackberries?
And I wasn't the only one with worries. Some of the attendees had apprehension too. "Having never attended an event remotely resembling this one," one panicked participant wrote me a few days before the event. "I'm unsure if my self-defined 'best practices' and 'worst problems' are anything other than commonplace, in which case I would certainly be subject to the mockery, if not scorn, of my peers."
As it turned out, none of the attendees—who represented firms ranging from Pfizer to General Electric and organizations from AARP and the U.S. Office of Personnel Management—had any reason to worry.
Instead, we ought to have been sleepless before the event, but only with sheer excitement about finally getting a chance to connect deeply with some of the few other people who understand executive communication.
Over two days (and deep into a night), the conversation was light at times and intense at others, and always infused with good humor. People shared what they were proud of and they trusted the group with the most candid, detailed description of their stubborn problems.
Utterly pleased with how the week came off, I think what suprised me most was how incredibly energetic and generous the group members were when it came to helping one another solve problems. They asked probing questions, offered thoughtful inventive ideas and gave sensitive advice.
"I am inspired by all of you," one vice president told the rest of the group in an e-mail afterwards. "It was an amazing couple of days."
Which is why she's coming back to this year's meeting, which will be hosted by another alum of last year's meeting, AARP CEO communications chief Boe Workman, Oct. 27-28, in Washington, D.C.
Of course I'll be arriving a day or so early, just to get the lay of the land …
If you'd like to join us, you'd better be an earlybird too, because attendance is capped at 25.