writing Archives - Jana Says

Handling post-conference information overload

September 10, 2012 by Jana 6 Comments

If you follow me on Twitter, you know I spent most of last week at FinCon (the Financial Blogger Conference for all of my non-blogger readers. Also, if you don't follow me on Twitter, I highly recommend it. We have a good time over there). You may also know that fact because I mentioned it about 3 or 4 times on DMS. And I'm fairly certain you all have the same question–how was it? (Unless you were there and know it was great and in that case, you probably want to know how my liver is feeling. I asked her and she said fine as long as I stay away from red wine for a few days).

In short, FinCon was amazing. But most of you probably don't really care. And that's absolutely fine. Because if this weren't my site and I wasn't a blogger, I wouldn't care either. However, at one point or another, we all experience something like I did at FinCon.

Information overload.

When you attend a conference, workshop, class or any other educational medium, you typically walk away with more information than you can handle. At least I do (if you don't, I am incredibly jealous). I also walk away wanting to implement everything I learned. And I want to do it NOW!!! But that is completely unreasonable and ridiculous and is probably due to the lack of sleep (and aforementioned red wine).

To deal with my overambitiousness, I developed a strategy. I wish it had a cool name but it doesn't so I'll just tell you what I do to manage the massive influx of information that assembles in my brain after a really intense conference:

Sleep

At conferences where wine and amazing company and educational breakout sessions are aplenty, sleep is in short supply. That lack of sleep can impact the post-conference goals you set. It is essential that you're well rested when you do this otherwise you might decide that perhaps you want to become a biker and then sign up for motorcycle lessons because you think bikers are awesome especially when they look like ZZ Top and then you buy a motorcycle from Craigslist only now you have no where to put it and then you remember that you are terrified of motorcycles and men with long beards. So now you're out money on a motorcycle and maybe a leather jacket and the next 4 Saturdays are booked because you need to attend motorcycle riding classes.

This is not cool. However, if you were well rested, you probably would have just decided to write an ebook or look for a freelance gig. Something simple and more aligned with your actual life goals (unless one of your goals is to become a biker. If that's the case, have at it. No judging here).

Cull business cards

At conferences, business cards are given out more freely than beads on Mardi Gras. And you don't even have to show your boobs to get them. All you have to do is engage in a 5 minute conversation about even the most mundane topics like cookies and you will obtain a card. You wind up returning with a massive collection of cards from people you can't remember. It's overwhelming.

To manage it, sit down with the pile of cards and slowly go through them. Much like they suggest on Hoarders, create 3 piles: keep, toss, I'm not sure. Throw away any cards that you took simply to be polite, are from companies you don't care to have a relationship with, or bloggers with whom you didn't or don't want to forge a connection (don't get mad. It happens. I'm pretty sure my card is in many a landfill). Keep the ones that you know you need. For the “I don't knows”, take some time to browse the website. See if it could be a good fit. File the cards away and set a reminder to go through them again in 2 months. Gauge your interaction with those people and make a determination then.

Make implementation lists

Conferences often leave us with a post-conference high. Included in that is the feeling of empowerment, an incredible belief in our skills and abilities, a desire to enthusiastically pursue our goals, and a burning desire to be next year's success story. On the one hand, this is great. It's good to feel ambitious and confident and ready to take on the world with lack of abandon.

On the other hand, it's a disaster. We try so hard to implement all the ideas, tips and tricks we learned that we end up doing a really crappy job on all of it. Then we get pissed and dejected and all that confidence? Gone. The post-conference high deflates like a bad breast implant. To prevent that from happening, go through your notes and make lists. Figure out what can be implemented immediately, like adding a plugin or signing up for a service or sending a follow up email. Then determine when the other changes will roll out and what's a reasonable schedule for that. Maybe in 3 months you'll have a site redesign, in 6 months you'll have a newsletter and in a year, you'll publish that ebook. Taking your time doesn't mean you gained little at the conference; it means you did learn and you want to do the best you can.

Reread notes at a later date

Whether you take handwritten or electronic notes (I take notes by hand because I am old and I write faster than I type on an iPad), you will leave with a cache of information, including handouts, website lists and other “extras”. When combined with the sessions themselves, there is often so much that my brain cannot handle it all. So, when you return, put it all away. Don't look at it. Let your brain relax and decompress. I do this by watching some of the worst TV I can find. I recommend this but you can do whatever works for you.

By letting the brain take a vacation, much of the conference noise gets cleared. That way, when you reread your notes a few days later, you are more focused and can process them rationally, clearly, and intelligently. They make more sense. Retaining the information is easier, which then makes thenimplementation strategies more effective and logical.

FinCon is probably the best conference I have ever been to, and not just because of free wine, food, friends and the occassional bit of eye candy (yes, boys, we do look at you and talk about you that way). FinCon has helped me improve as a blogger, writer, site owner and member of the personal finance community. My strategy for dealing with what I learn at FinCon has helped me maintain my blogging sanity so the other parts of my sanity (which are dwindling) stick around.

Readers, how do you handle processing post-conference information?

I did something big

July 9, 2012 by Jana 38 Comments

Last week, I did something I never thought I’d do. I quit my job.

Let me explain why.

To say that my job didn’t contribute to my mental health issues would be a lie. Why? Because for the last 10 years, I have seen nothing but some of the worst humanity has to offer. After a while, it starts to take its toll on you. Not only that, I started to realize I could no longer function in such a rigid environment as a government job demands. It’s just not for me, and it was starting to bleed over into other parts of my life. Which really is not good.

So, despite the fact that not every aspect of the job was horrible, I did what I needed to do and let it go.

Before I made the decision, I analyzed every single possible consequence. After waffling back and forth for weeks, engaging in ridiculously long conversations with my husband and therapist, and staying awake many nights stressing about whether or not this was the right thing to do, I came to 4 conclusions that led to my decision. These conclusions solidified that I was making the right choice, and I bit the bullet and resigned my position.

I’ll admit that everyone has a different thought process and what I used to make my decision might not be what someone else would use. But it worked for me, and I thought I’d let you in on what goes through my head in times of big, life altering decisions. These were my guiding principles:

Finances

This where I was most stressed. After years of paying down debt, my husband and I were finally in a position to start catching up, getting ahead, and having a bit of fun with our money. Losing my salary would mean going back to living on a tight budget, watching our frivolous expenditures, and perhaps putting off or readjusting our goals for certain things (like buying a new house). But there were two elements we were overlooking: we had enough to meet all of our necessities just with his salary and in the long run, happiness means more than money (provided our basic needs were met). Yes, it’s going to be a tough adjustment but one that we were both willing to make. It helps that I have a stable part time job that will fill in a lot of the gaps.

We also realized, probably for the first time, just what having no consumer debt means. It means options. And options? Are nice.

Support system

I’m not really one who cares what strangers think of me and my choices. However, I do care deeply about what my family and friends think. It’s not so much that I want them to agree with me; I just want them to support me, even if they believe what I’m doing is horribly stupid. In this respect, I am so fortunate. I have an amazing support system. Everyone I talked to encouraged me to do what I thought was best for me and my family, and many of them even believe I have the ability to make a living doing what I want to do (and have wanted to do my entire life). I would not have had the courage to go through with leaving my nice, secure job if I didn’t have a virtual army of friends and family in my corner. These are the people I know I can cry to, brag to, and lay out all of my rampant insecurities and they’ll be there, picking me up, cheering for me, and celebrating along with me.

This is just as important as having your finances in order.

Short and long term goals

I couldn’t start this new part of my life without any goals. I didn’t want to spend the next few years floundering about, trying to figure out what to do next. Fortunately, I left my job with a purpose. And that purpose is to try to make a living as…a writer. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do, and in order to make it happen, I had to set both short and long term goals. So I did that. I mapped out exactly what I want to see happen in the next month, six months, year, and three years. Not only that, but I have been conducting painstaking research on getting a book published (you know, since I’m writing a book), setting metrics goals for DMS, establishing a writing schedule, and pretty much organizing myself as much as possible so that I can begin working on my goals.

Goals are crucial to me. They give me a something to work towards and since I hate failing, they push me to work even harder. That is not to say my goals are set in stone. They evolve as I evolve and sometimes, I even change my mind. But I always have goals.

No regrets

In my 35 years, there are only a handful of choices that I regret. And while I try not to focus on that regret and instead try to focus on what I’ve gained by not making those choices, I can’t help but wonder what my life would be like if I had made those other choices (kind of like the whole Sliding Doors concept). I didn’t want a career as a writer to fall into the “what if” category. I need to know if I can do it. And if I can’t, and it needs to remain a hobby, at least I know. But at least I can say that I tried. And I’d rather have tried and failed than spend the rest of my life regretting that I never bothered to try.

What now?

I’m terrified of this next phase of my life. Like really, really terrified. I’m not good at self-promotion and I get writer’s block. I’m scared that we’re not going to be able to pay our bills. I’m petrified that I’ll never find a job or make a dime as a writer. I have insomnia from worrying that people hate my writing and will never want to read a word I write, which really makes this whole venture pretty futile. But I know that my fears are normal (well, most of them). I know, and hope, that they’re temporary. It’s never easy doing what you feel called to do and trying to live the life you believe you’re meant to instead of the life you’re told is the right one.

But I’ve never been good at being normal. Why start now?

Self-confidence? What’s that?

January 26, 2012 by Jana 35 Comments

Sometimes I feel like a fraud.

When I write, a lot of times I try to encourage, inspire and educate my readers (as well as entertain). I like to provide motivation and cultivate the belief in yourself that you can do anything you want. Whether it’s pay off debt, lose weight, leave a bad marriage, start a new job—whatever challenge you’re facing, I hope that I can provide some encouragement.

Except there’s one problem. I can’t do it for myself.

That’s right. I have the least amount of confidence in myself of any person you will ever meet. I can’t think of one thing in my life—save for my daughter—that I’ve done and said “holy crap, that’s good!” I’ve been pleased enough with my work but I don’t believe anything I do is exceptional. Nor do I believe that I’ll ever succeed in a way that I deem sufficient.

This self-defeating attitude is why I didn’t start writing again until I was 31. When I was younger, I desperately wanted to be a writer. Of anything. Books, plays, movies. You name it, I wanted to write it. I was told that I was good but I never felt like I was good enough. I constantly compared myself to those I deemed more talented and convinced myself that I would never be as good as them (I still do this, by the way). I took criticism very personally; rather than as a way to improve, I saw it as an insult to me and my abilities. I carried that around with me through high school and eventually, when I got to college, I opted for a safe major rather than one that would make me happy. Being a criminal justice major made it easy to quit creative writing.

Well, almost. It didn’t make it easy rather than provide a convenient excuse. As a CJ major, I only had to write research papers. I’m good at that. And, on more than one occasion, my writing abilities made up for a sheer lack of understanding of the material (like my upper level Political Science class or, the reason I’m not a lawyer). I always loved writing papers. I could knock out a ten page paper in 2 hours and get an A. Writing just came that easy to me. But I always shook it off as no big deal. I certainly wasn’t the only one who could do that and my ability to do it was not that special. At least that’s what I told myself.

I kept up this way of thinking for a solid 10 years. I would lament over the fact that I never became a writer but told myself that I’d never be successful and it was best that I stuck with my safe government job. Writers, at least most of them, don’t make a lot of money and I had a house, child, bills and debt. There was no way I could give up my steady paycheck in favor of a pipe dream, especially without the talent to back it up. But then…blogs happened.

I started blogging in 2008 (on sites that I will never share. They’re that bad) just as a way to entertain myself. It was a cheap, easy way to fill the void that was created when I stopped writing all those years ago. I let myself entertain the notion that even if I couldn’t make a living writing, there was no reason I had to stop altogether. It could just be a hobby. Something to keep my skills fresh, my creativity alive and my spirit happy. Which it did at first.

Then it evolved into what it is now. Blogging has become more than just a hobby or a vehicle to achieve my dream of becoming a full-time writer. It’s become a way of life; it’s become part of my identity. I have grown so much from blogging. But putting my writing out there comes with a price. Every time I hit publish, I throw up a little. Because pushing publish means that my writing is out there. I second guess everything I’ve said, every punctuation mark, every opinion I’ve stated. And let’s not even go into the agony that is creating a title. Yet I still go through with it simply because I need to.

For someone with no self confidence, it’s terrifying to think about someone else’s opinion of my posts. I question all the time if a reader is thinking “this chick sucks. What business does she have writing in a public space? This drivel is nothing but eye pollution!” Believe me, I think that it happens way more often than it probably does (mainly because I typically say it in my own head first. I think it’s a defense mechanism; if I say it, then it hurts less if someone else says it, too). I still think it though.

The most difficult part is convincing myself that it’s not true. I desperately want to agree with those who tell me it’s not but after 34 years of thinking that I pale in comparison to everyone else, it’s hard to change my thinking entirely. That’s why I’m telling you all of this. Because when I’m encouraging you to believe in yourself that you can get out of debt or stay on track with your finances, I’m also saying it to myself.

We’re in this together.

My job is depressing. And I want to leave.

December 9, 2011 by Jana 21 Comments

I’ve talked before about how self-employment scares the crap out of me. That still doesn’t change the fact that I have a burning desire to leave my job and pursue freelancing full-time. Why? My job is depressing.

I don’t mean my job is depressing in the normal “I hate working in an office on somebody else’s schedule and my boss is a douche and my co-workers are lame” Office Space-type depressing. I mean my job is literally depressing. I don’t know how much I’ve disclosed here, maybe some drips and drabs, but I’m going to describe it for you so you can fully understand the depths of how depressing my job is and why I feel compelled to leave.

I as a case reviewer in my state’s Kids’ Department. What this means is that typically when a case blows up for a bad reason, I get the job of looking at all the records and determining if policy was followed, if there were any systems issues…stuff like that. These are typically some of the worst cases imaginable and they hurt my head and my heart. What some people do to kids is just disgusting (I’m not talking people like Jerry Sandusky who do it to strangers. I’m talking about what parents do to their own kids). The crowning jewel of all of this is sitting on my state’s Child Death Review Panel.

Yup, twice a month I get to attend a meeting where we talk about kids dying. Actual cases, too. And all sorts of reasons for the deaths–car accidents, illnesses, SIDS, suicides, homicides, drownings, fires…all of it except deaths or near deaths by abuse or neglect. That’s reviewed in a separate panel that I don’t sit on (which is a really, really good thing). I also get the pleasure of being the liaison for the Fetal and Infant Mortality Review panel. Uplifting stuff, right?

When I took the job almost a year ago, I knew that I was going to have to do this. I didn’t care because it meant getting away from a very toxic work environment and into a much healthier one. I had previously worked for my supervisor in a different capacity and she is wonderful. I can’t say enough good things about her and my other supervisor (I have two, for two different functions of my job). But what I failed to realize was the emotional toll that a job like this would have on me. It’s one thing to supervise juvenile criminals (have I mentioned that I was a probation officer?) or investigate physicians for Medicaid fraud; it’s another to review how babies and children die. As a parent and general human being, it’s become sadder than I can handle.

I have talked to my supervisor about it and she is willing to step in for a few months to give me a break. I appreciate that so much. But eventually I’ll have to go back which makes me even more depressed. I’m tired of seeing the bad side of humanity. I want to see some good stuff. I want to affect change in a positive way, not retrospectively review what could have been done to prevent something bad. I want to see some results of what I do, not have my work linger in committee for 3 years (which is also why I’ll never be a politician). I want to know that I’m actually making a difference.

I recognize that those are pretty tough demands. But I feel that with blogging and writing, I can affect change in a positive way. I can help people learn to make changes in their mindset about money and debt. I can become an advocate for financial freedom and, if I want, I can take up an advocacy role for these kids rather than feeling like a helpless drone. I can actually use my policy background for positive, rather than negative, reasons.

Walking away from this job is not going to be easy. I work with wonderful people, I have a great office with lots of windows, I have a ton of freedom, paid vacation and sick time, a steady paycheck, a pension, medical, vision and dental benefits, a casual dress code–pretty much anything you can want in a job. But it’s just too depressing and I’m sick of the politics that go along with having a government job (the straw for me was not related to my job but to my husband’s. That’s another story for another time. Let’s just say that just because you have a PhD and are friends with a Cabinet Secretary does not mean you are qualified to run an entire division). So I’m working on a plan. I’m not leaving this kind of job, which I do feel lucky to have, without a concrete plan. But I can’t do this job much longer.

It took a lot of soul-searching to come to this conclusion. While I still don’t feel confident in my ability to earn a living as a freelancer, that lack of confidence has got to be better than being depressed every single day. I can overcome the lack of confidence; I’m not sure I can overcome the depression.

Handling post-conference information overload

I did something big

Self-confidence? What’s that?

My job is depressing. And I want to leave.

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