Happy Anniversary to Me!

Today marks the three year anniversary of my business. Its inception wasn't the result of a genius business plan, or months of preparation or some late-night creative inspiration. No, quite simply, three years ago today, I lost my job. A job I loved. A job that came with a near six figure salary, a corner office overlooking Peachtree Street and a boss I adored. And it all vanished.

After the obligatory crying, panicking and desperate calls to friends, I sat down at my computer in the corner of my spare bedroom and composed an email to everyone I knew, telling them I was immediately available for freelance writing and public relations work. And Scholz Communications was born.

It's not been an easy path or a direct one, but every twist and turn has led me here, and for that I am grateful.  And I'm most especially grateful for all of you--my family and friends and colleagues and clients--who have continued to believe in me and counsel me through the constant fear  and change and self-doubt.

So thank you, one and all.

Confession: I hate PR

I have a confession to make: I HATE PR.

To be more specific, I hate being a PR practitioner.

Why?  Because of the unusually difficult expectations I place on myself and the inevitable disappointment; because I hate being pushy, especially with strangers; because in its traditional form, it's dying; and most importantly, because it doesn't feel authentic to me any more.

Which doesn't mean it's not the right profession for others, or that there aren't others practicing PR in new and exciting and pitch-perfect ways.  Because there are.  But I don't want to be one of them. 

When I initially started freelancing, I wanted to be a writer.  But PR opportunities kept falling into my lap.  And I kept taking them, because, let's face it, in the beginning stages of entrepreneurship, any money is good money.

And while my business philosophy has evolved into a more holistic approach to communications, I'm still known as the "PR girl."  And I still feel compelled to take on business that doesn't excite me, just because I can and it pays the bills.

At least I did until two weeks ago, when my oldest paying client and I parted ways.  It was an amicable parting (they are moving on to bigger and better things), and while disappointing, it was ultimately freeing.

I don’t HAVE to be a publicist. I don’t HAVE to take on work that doesn’t excite me. I don’t HAVE to do or be anything I don’t want to do or be.

Which doesn't mean my current clients won't benefit from my expertise in traditional PR and media relations, or that PR won't pay a role in future communications campaigns.  But it's only one piece of a much more comprehensive strategy.  I want to teach my clients how to create their own content and opportunities, to find their unique voices, to become their own best advocates.  I want to be more than just their publicist.

And that is something I’m passionate, excited and honest about, something I would be proud to market and sell to others.   Because it’s MY truth.

Old News

Last night, I watched the live stream of #journchat from SXSWi.  The brainchild of PR wunderkid Sarah Evans, #journchat is "an ongoing, open dialogue between journalists, bloggers and public relations professionals" that takes place on Twitter.   I generally enjoy these chats--it's a great way to share with peers and build relationships in the virtual space.

Last night's session was a little bit different than the usual Monday night chat--no engagement or participation from the masses, just a pretty basic Q&A with some of CNN's social media heavy hitters.  And the more I listened the more I thought...

When will we STOP reporting social media as "news?"  Yes, one of the CNN panelists joked that someone joining Twitter isn't newsworthy, but I have news for you:  Neither is the fact that you can build relationships via Twitter.  Or pitch a story in 140 characters.  Or that you should vet your sources carefully.  Or be there before the pitch.  That stuff is PR 101, just translated to a different medium.

Yes, we get it.  You're on Twitter.  We're all on Twitter.  And foursquare and YouTube and Facebook and dozens of others.  So what and now what?

I am NOT a Publicist

I am NOT a publicist.

There, I said it aloud (yes, I know I'm writing, but I actually did say it aloud).

Yes, I'm well aware of the name of my blog.  Yes, I'm aware that people know me as "the PR girl."  But I'm also well aware of how confining this label has become, from both a personal and professional perspective.

The definition of a "publicist?" One who publicizes.

The definition of "publicize?" Give publicity to; bring to public notice; advertise.

My work is so much bigger than that.  It's connecting, communicating, collaborating, educating, influencing, strategizing, advocating, branding, engaging, leveraging, building, teaching, sharing, evaluating, creating.

That's why you won't see the word "public relations" anywhere on the new web site I'm launching in a few weeks.  That's why I will no longer describe myself as a "public relations" professional.  And why the work I have been and will be taking on in the future will be bigger than simply "publicity." 

Who cares if someone "knows" about your product or service if they're not engaged?  If they're not ambassadors?  If you can't create and communicate and share in new platforms?  If you're not building something lasting of substance and value and community? 

Call me an educator, a communicator, a connector, a creator.  But please don't call me a publicist.

Growing Pains: When the Brand Becomes Bigger than You

It's been less than two weeks since the great Facebook purge of 2010, and I'm still getting at least five random friend requests a day. 

I see you're a fan of x (company #2); me, too! Let's connect.

Um, no thank you.  If you're a fan, just become a fan, especially if we have no natural point of intersection or previous connection.

I've previously talked about this issue in terms of privacy (I'm under no illusion that I have any on the internet) or boundaries (being selective about whom you connect with).  But it's really an issue of branding.

When you're building a business--especially as a solopreneur--social media platforms naturally become a hodgepodge of personal and professional.  Even if you have a website, a LinkedIn account or a stand-alone professional blog, it's pretty much impossible--and probably not desirable--to remove all traces of your professional self from social networking sites.  After all your network--even if its just friends and family--can be a powerful tool for generating leads and promoting your business.

That's why I've adopted a hybrid approach to branding.  You'll see it in this blog, on my Facebook page, on my Twitter account, and in the way I interact and connect with people.  Personality sells.  And I can't separate Laura the person from Laura the entrepreneur.  The two are too intertwined. 

And while I believe wholeheartedly in this approach, I'm having growing pains.  The more visible I become and the more people I connect with, the more I WANT some separation between my personal and professional lives; the more murky the lines between friendship and business become; the more wary I become of endorsing people or places or products, lest they mistakenly become associated with my professional brand.

In other words, my brand, like my business, has some growing up to do.  I'm no longer managing one business, but two.  I have a (very small) staff.  I'm expanding my professional offerings and venturing into the big scary world of speaking engagements and writing opportunities.  All of which I want and welcome.  

But the brand has become bigger than me--an extension of me, yes; but only me--no.  And my online presence has to reflect that.  So, it may mean turning down a few Facebook friend requests I would've accepted a year ago and directing those people to my fan page.  It may mean a little less Twitter chatter about wine and more about my latest exciting project.  And more conversations here about the intersection of entrepreneurship, personality and brand.

Bring on adolescence.

Work, Interrupted

Late one night last week, as I was managing 25 open windows, three Twitter accounts, the neverending stream of email and somehow deluding myself into thinking I was "working," my friend Chris Brogan's latest tweet popped up.  It read something like "we live in an interruption-based society."  Somewhat ironic, given that the tweet itself is the very type of interruption of which he was speaking (but only because I have my TweetDeck set to “interrupt” me with messages like that—essentially, my own damn fault!).  But I’ve been pondering his comment for the past several days.

While those of us in the communications business have a professional obligation to stay connected to the virtual world, I think we are guilty of being more "busy" than truly engaged.  When does our compulsion to multi-task, to be constantly connected, for immediacy and instant gratification just become a fruitless exercise in unfocused activity and excess noise?

I'm currently jotting down this blog on a scrap of magazine paper using a borrowed pen, on a plane en route to Atlanta.  AFTER I finally finished the website copy and company boilerplate I've struggled to write for months.  It seems all I needed was a two hour plane ride with—you guessed it—no interruptions.

So, I’m vowing this week to take control of my schedule.  I’m committed to spending one hour per day without interruptions.  No television, no iPod, no cell phone, no Twitter, no Facebook, no email and no IM.  Just me and the task at hand.  Care to join me?