I’ve been away from this blog for oh so long — almost 6 months. And also away from my e-letter. I can’t believe it either.

“Didn’t you just blog the other month?” my friend asked today, as we were co-working at Volunteer Park Café on Capitol Hill in Seattle. By that point, I’d just about finished my third 12 oz. paper cup of Stumptown drip and I surely didn’t need more. But the ‘free refills’ carafe was calling.

“That was October,” I said. “And that was just to say, hey, I know I haven’t blogged in a while.” Time goes quickly.

I am now so caffeinated, I may not sleep for two days (sike — I will) and I’ve avoided writing this post long enough. Bacon/fontina/chive quiche and brown butter brownie chaser consumed. Washroom used and items on upcycled farm implement shelf in bathroom admired — three times. The bright noon light blew up the window I sat facing and continued its course to the west, while the Michael Jackson-and-Prince soundtrack the café had been spinning all morning segued into The xx, Courtney Barnett (possibly my new musical fixation — notice how the lyrics in this song read like a stream of consciousness freewrite or an overheard coffee shop conversation), The Yeah Yeah Yeahs.

It’s time to show back up. Time for re-entry. Time to let ‘er rip.

Lettin’ ‘er rip is something I’ve never been good at.

I am planful. Contemplative. Composed.

I tend to overthink. Overwrite. Overwork.

But then sometimes, there’s an opening in the cloud cover and I see the shaft of light and it’s just time to go. Then I pretty much throw caution to the wind, intuitively lunge toward whatever is up next.

During all this time away from the public-facing side of my business, I’ve been actively in engaged in change and exploration.

New house. My partner and I left our 1930 Craftsman-wannabe bungalow (I say that with endearment) in Walla Walla, a dusty gem of a small town east of the Cascades, and moved five hours west. I can breathe again. My skin likes this place. So do my words.

New city, the Emerald City. If I believed in past lives, I would believe that I had had at least one really good one here. Everything about this place feels like it’s made of the same DNA I am.

New hair. I traded my long, romantic curls for a long, curly pixie, not quite like this but this was the inspiration. What. I know. Still getting used to even how much less time my always low maintenance hair now takes me. Jury’s still out on whether I’m staying short or growing it back.

New friendships. Women whose work I’ve watched from afar these past few years, but am now having the chance to get to know in a deeper way. I feel lucky. I feel especially lucky for old friendships, too.

New way of eating that makes me feels glorious, when I do it.

New relationship with my fiction writing, the secret work that walks me through days and nights, whispering lines of dialogue in my ear, turns of phrase, character details.

Over the past several months, I’ve taken courses (and am signed up to take more) at Hugo House, the hub of Seattle’s literary arts scene. I’ve rejoined a couple-times-a-week practice of writing, just seeing what is there, following the drift. I’ve been working through this amazing ecosystem for fiction writers* on a weekly basis. I’ve been slowly building a story to submit to this contest*.

I sent out a few job applications for positions that had amazing benefits, thinking, what if a business isn’t actually what I want? What if, after nine years of creative self-employment, I’m done here? (Response from myself and the Universe: NOT EVEN.)

I’ve hiked in new terrain, I’ve smelled the forest floor, I’ve drunk in the salty air at the edge of the Puget Sound from five different beaches. I’ve recouped a sore hip and a wonky knee (old ballet injuries) with proper alignment, with the help of this friend and this yoga channel.

I’ve seen my sweet baby-with-an-old-soul Cooper (our oldest dog, who is just six) through a health scare. He is so good.

I’ve taken a bath almost every single day or night since we moved.

I saw these guys perform their Pin Drop (acoustic) tour at Benaroya Hall.

I’ve cooked and baked. I’ve eaten and drank.

I was lucky enough to write this feature column for Laura Simms’ Create As Folk for several months. And then my lovely successor turned around and profiled me and my brand! (I have to say, it’s one of the best write-ups I’ve ever seen on what The Voice Bureau does and how we do it.)

I gave this interview to the unstoppable Miki Strong about branding with your Voice Values — my signature methodology — and even my mom says it’s the best audio interview I’ve ever given. (I had to put that in there.)

I talked with my sister-in-ink Elisa Doucette about making my life as a writer who writes for love and for pay over here at Writers’ Rough Drafts.

Andrea Lewicki has interviewed me twice this year as one of her Creativity Case Studies. Check out Part 1 and Part 2 (and my short list of favorite inspiring books for writers at the end).

Sarah Selecky, one of my fiction mentors-from-afar, featured me in a series called The Business Of Writing. Here’s our Q&A, in which I talk about my definition of marketing, whether writerly types should study business, and the themes that come up in my own stories.

I’ve made an important internal promotion in my biz (soon to be announced on the blog) and hired an awesome new team member (also soon to be introduced). I’ve grown our coterie of copywriters, bringing on some truly amazing talent.

I’ve continued to support exciting copywriting projects big and small behind the scenes, connecting daily with my Project Manager and our clients and clients-to-be, providing creative direction and brand voice development support. I’ve been a little astonished how even going quiet for six months hasn’t dried up our referral well. I am so grateful.

I’ve started a half dozen or more blog posts and never hit publish. I’ve outlined a few new offers and then abandoned the outlines partway through. I’ve collected new ideas and concepts in Docs and Asana and in the Notes function of my iPhone.

I’ve trusted the composting process, hopeful that recycling my raw organic materials will create a rich soil for something.

Here’s what I’ve learned: creative chaos often precedes a remarkable regroup.

And the only way back in, after shutting yourself out or off or keeping yourself away, is through.

It’ll never be as neat and tidy as I want. I don’t like rough and raucous. But that’s what life is sometimes. That’s where the heat is. The friction of present moment brushing up against coming to be.

The hardest thing to do, when you love your work, is to keep yourself away from it.

Have you ever found yourself doing that?

I struggle so much with self-disclosing on the internet. I love privacy — anonymity, even. It’s part of the reason I went to undergrad at a place with 57,000 students on campus. I wanted to be anyone I wanted to be every time I walked outside my door. A shape-shifter.

The idea of evolving within my brand and showing that evolution as it’s happening has always seemed anathema to me. You wait until you’ve got it all figured out. You wait until the message is clear.

I still believe that. But I also believe that sometimes you just can’t wait. And progress doesn’t equal perfection.

It’s never perfect. But somehow, it’s always ready. Always there.

Gosh, I’m back.

It feels good to feel my voice here again. 

There’s new stuff on the way. Old stuff being reprised.

There’s a brand regroup on the rising.

And it’s coming soon.

If you’re ready to start listening to yourself again, and to dip back into the innateness that’s always been driving your brand from the beginning, please stick around. Sometimes back to center is the way forward.

*affiliate link

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I guess I’ve become an unintentional expert on the theme of rebounding after an intentional brand hiatus. A dormancy. A fallow period.

Why? Because I’ve taken so many unintentional hiatuses (see: Fall 2011) since starting The Voice Bureau, and my freelance copywriting biz before that, almost five years ago.

Here’s where I’m at today: I haven’t blogged or sent an e-letter to my list of remarkable business owners since my last course started. If you’re a subscriber, you might’ve noticed that. I’ve also been a little quieter than usual on Twitter and Facebook.

Behind the scenes: I’ve been delivering my latest course and supporting our clients’ copywriting projects. I’ve been taking a couple of enrichment courses, one from the wonderful Jeffrey Davis at Tracking Wonder, and the other from former Voice Bureau collaborative partner Tami Dawn Smith (newly of The Dawning Point). I’ve also been doing one of these terrific little yoga videos every day, falling asleep to this every night, and enjoying exploring Seattle and environs (our new mossy, rainy digs) with my partner and our dogs.

Oh, and also behind the scenes: I’ve been fretting, freaking out, soul-searching, all but scratching-and-clawing to figure out what the heck I want to do with my business in 2015.

I share this today, a very self-focused post, because I know I’m not the only one who struggles with it. It helps to hear what others are going through. Overworking, creative addiction, message obsession, perfectionism — these are struggles I talk with peers, colleagues, and clients about in the backchannels, but we rarely bring them to light.

Here’s the thing: I’ve got a solid business. I’ve got a beautiful website (thanks, Allie). I’ve got a crackerjack team that most likely will be expanding next year. Most of the systems and structures I need for running sustainably are in place. Sales have been better in 2014 than they’ve ever been (with two months yet to go). (Note: I wrote this paragraph to remind myself, not to inform you.)

And yet, I can’t help feeling like something is ‘off,’ and obsessing over how to set it aright.

What I’ve noticed about myself is that I have a torturously beautiful struggle with structure and flow.

I know that one can — and should — support the other.

Create structure so that you can feel free to flow. Flow toward a flexible structure that makes sense from the inside out.

I adore both the hardness, the fixedness, the container that is structure. The hard stuff.

I also adore the visceral, the ephemeral, the abstract, the instinctual and intuitive. The soft stuff.

I built a business that could contain both energies and named it in kind: The Voice (soft) Bureau (hard).

But what I’ve noticed is that I like to build elaborate, fully-realized structures and frameworks, and then implode them with my own questions and wonderings and creative, water-y wanderings. Such as, should I shut it all down and go get an MFA in Fiction and supplement the school loan I will take out with a mindless day job, one that doesn’t require the best of me creatively? Or, how about this one: Is working B2B (supporting other business owners) actually helping anyone, or is it just perpetuating the self-aggrandizing myth of sustainable solo-entrepreneurship? Because let’s not forget it is HARD to be in business for ourselves.

The good news is, after a couple months of really freakin’ hard soul pummeling (inner critic-driven, not intentional), I have come back around to what feels like center. I believe it is center. It is as center as it’s going to get right now.

And I’m ready to renew all the things that need renewed — but not heroically. Just humanely. I’m ready to see if I can take this business journey a little more gently. I’ve got the support I need. I’ve got wonderful clients, course participants, and readers that I really love to serve. The ‘how’ I serve is going to be changing a bit, and all that will unfold in time. I’ve got plans — in a Moleskine, in a Google Doc, in an art paper tablet with colored markers (SO not me, and SO freeing and interesting).

I got inspired today and made this little video.

It’s my way of touching base (can we call it a ‘touch base’?) and saying, Hey, there. I’m still here. I’ve been quiet. And I’m coming back. If you’ve ever let your business brand sit dormant for a while, you can start back up with a ‘touch base’ — a simple gesture to reconnect with your Right People and let them know you’re still here, just going through some stuff or changing some things.

Thanks for watching.

In the comments, I’d love to know:

Do you struggle with going dormant in your business brand? When you have or when you do, what’s usually going on behind the scenes?

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Since I teach a course teaching you how to write a better sales page, I’d thought I’d model some transparency and give you the inside track on what I think about when I write my own sales pages.

I love teaching via screencast and it’s something I do as a part of nearly all of The Voice Bureau‘s courses. And yet, this’ll be the first time I’ve ever made one for the blog! Enjoy, and after watching, be sure to let me know what questions you have in the comments.

• The most important consideration is that this page is exactly optimized for my Right Person buyer. If you want to find out more about who my brand is speaking to you, please visit my Is This You page.

• The Voice Bureau’s buyer is what can be referred to in marketing archetypes as a blend of a Methodical and Humanistic buyer type. This means that my Right Person usually thinks in a pretty linear and organized way. They love things like charts and graphs and comparison and ways to analyze, but at the same time, that’s inclination is softened by the propensity to hold a more holistic view, to want to see how all the parts fit into the whole, and to hold it all. In terms of the four elements, they’re a mix of Air and Water, so they’re open to and curious about possibilities while also being really good at flowing with what is. They tend to be Enneagram Types 1, 4, 5, and 9, and they also tend to be Myers-Briggs ‘NFs’ (mostly INFJs, INFPs, and ENFJs) and also some TJs, namely INTJ and INTP.

• I like my sales pages to have full-width columns (wherein the copy spans the entire available content area), with no sidebar.

• Use a balance of headlines, sub-headlines, bold text, italicized text, and regular paragraph text all throughout page — to give variety. Ample, appropriate use of white space breaks up the page for the eye. Choose a couple of different text styles that you consistently use throughout the page (but don’t let it be a carnival!).

• Choose a couple of fonts that are already at play in your brand or that complement your brand’s font family.

• Choose a couple of colors; these can be your brand’s signature colors (as I have on my sales page) or colors that are complementary to your brand’s signature palette that give the offer a palette of its own. If doing the latter, you would then carry these colors throughout all images and graphics associated with the course.

• Every great sales page has a balance of (1) your personal story, (2) description of where the Right Person potential buyer is at, and (3) treats the page as a resource or a teaching tool, to raise buyer awareness and provide client education. These three aims dance and waltz together throughout the page.

• Photos should help to set the mood and create the ‘world’ of this offer for site visitors — they should tie in to themes of the offer, feelings conjured, etc.

• More than just being section headers, headlines should be written to pull reader through the page (psychologically, emotionally) and signal transitions to another idea or pathway of consideration.

• Length: as long as it needs to be, and for most business owners I encounter, LONGER than you think. Studies show that long form sales pages convert better than short form ones, when everything else is equal: quality of copy, use of images, strength of the offer, price being right, etc.

Learn more about the course Writing the Conversational Sales Page.

UPDATE as of October 30th, 2014: The course is currently closed while I retool between sessions. Subscribe to the site for updates on when it’ll be re-released.

In the comments, I’d love to hear:

What’s your favorite new sales page-writing awareness from this video? What landed as a fresh insight or a-ha for you?

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This is an installment of The Voice Bureau’s blog post series on Writing Your Smart, Empathetic Website. This series is written with active and aspiring brand creators in mind — those of you who know that your website should be your business’s hardest working “salesperson” — and want to make that more of a reality. This series is geared toward Click here to visit the intro to this series, and to find links to all the other installments.

Chances are, if you’ve been in business for a bit, you’ve done an ideal client profiling exercise or two.

How’d it work for you? Were you able to translate the insights you gained directly into an actionable page on your website? If not or not yet to your own expectations, please read on.

It’s time we talked about writing a mighty, nuanced, actionably useful Is This You page.

It’s never about tuna vs. pastrami. Unless you’re a deli.

Here at The Voice Bureau, we LOVE writing Is This You pages. It’s astounding, surprising, and fun to find the things to say about YOUR Right People that no one else would say about theirs, because they’re things that are only pretty much true of YOUR people. And yet, astonishingly, they tend to have a universality to them that has deep appeal. (This automatically solves the If I get specific about exactly who I want to work with, will I be leaving too many people in the dust? Nope. Just the Not Quite Right People and the Wrong People Who Think They’re Your Right People, both of whom will make your business not so fun to own and run anyway.)

The most common argument against having an Is This You page is that if the site/the copy/the brand is doing its job, the ‘who this is for’ should be obvious, should take care of itself. I agree with this assertion.

But I simultaneously exhort you to be clear, upfront, and specific about who the brand WANTS to attract — especially for service-based and practice-based business owners, like life, health, and business coaches; business and life guidance consultants; psychotherapists and counselors; teachers, mentors, and advisers; creative professionals like graphic designers, web designers, copywriters, and editors, as well as artists and product designers who work by commission.

For a service provider who practices a unique skill set with a select group of clients or customers, having a fully-feathered brand sans an ‘Is This You’ page is like having a sales page without an Add to Cart button.

Yes, we as online business owners are obliged to be THAT obvious. I mean, why not?

Far from being obnoxiously clear, writing a thoughtfully on-point Is This You page gives the Right People further permission to step forward. 

So what sorts of things go on an ‘Is This You’ page to make a meaningful impact — beyond sandwich preference, age range (which may or MAY NOT be important to the work you do and the way you do it), or bland generalities like “you’re smart, insightful, and full of integrity” (honestly, most brand owners would like to say this last one of their Right People)???

Here’s a rundown of what’s important to include on your own business’s is This You page, some items that possibly aren’t important, and a short list of items that are often assumed important but actually aren’t meaningful.

Important To Include On Your Is This You Page:

• stage of readiness for engagement with your brand — where are they, psychologically in terms of readiness, when they arrive at your site? ready to buy now or hire you the same day? just feeling you out? or somewhere in between? (Also: how do you know and why does it matter?)
• familiarity with your topic area or subject of expertise — have they just learned what it is, or are they semi-familiar? are they themselves experts?
• disposition toward buying from a brand or business like yours, or working with someone like you — are they skeptical in general toward your industry? delighted and immediately at home? astute and savvy? (if so, based on what?)
• why they’re interested in learning more about your work and your offers — of all the people who could have landed on your site today, why is this particular Right Person best inclined to stick around and learn more?
• deep, precise dispositions or inclinations that would make this person the best type of Right Person imaginable for the value you provide — don’t go crazy here: this doesn’t need to be a deep psychographic portrait or a laundry list of habits, likes/loves, and predilections; instead, sort for the five or seven strongest, clearest, most concrete and precise intangible qualities that are so specific to YOUR Right Person that you’re pretty sure a competitor couldn’t (or wouldn’t) say the same of his Right People

Possibly Not Important Based On What You Do & How You Do It, But Often Assumed Important By Business Owners & Therefore Seen A LOT on Is This You Pages:

• personality typology — note: I include a LOT of this on my own Is This You page because it’s a deep part of my methodology and approach and relates to the work The Voice Bureau does with clients and course participants, though this may not be the case AT ALL for your business
• gender, age, family composition (“You’re a married mom in her 20s or 30s with little ones at home . . .”) — this may or may not matter based on what you do, how you do it, and why you do it

Not Important Due To Not Being Descriptive & Precise Enough

• “you’ve been looking for the right fit” — this is always pretty much true, and thus, doesn’t need to be said; there’s nothing that says YOU are going to be this random site visitor’s right fit provider (unless you tell them how)
• “you’re ready” — this is so overused it’s practically a buzzphrase
• “you’re smart” — smart takes a lot of forms, so, smart how? and WHY does this particular type of smartness matter to their relationship with your brand?
• “you’ve tried everything and it hasn’t worked” — okay, so your Right Person is highly frustrated? If so, how are you positioning yourself as immediately, perceptibly, and meaningfully different in a way that you can deliver on?
• “you’re ready for something more” — aren’t we all, in our perpetually dissatisfied human state? Even Zen Buddhists want to be less attached. ;)
• “you’re invested in the process” — yes, we ALL want this for our clients when we’re serving 1-to-1, and most clients would say that they are invested, sometimes even despite evidence to the contrary. So in one specific, concrete-detail-filled sentence, what does ‘high investment in the process’ look like on YOUR best Right Person client?
• “you’re looking for results” — most assuredly, none of our Right People are looking to invest tens or hundreds or thousands of dollars with us and get no perceivable results, so this is a given; a values-based business usually has the results part covered, but what you may want to describe here is the type of results your Right Person is most interested in (given that you, indeed, can deliver)

So yes, you really do need an ‘Is This You?’ page! I think you’ll find that writing one moves YOU toward sharper clarity around who you’re serving and why (and who you’re not serving and why, or who you’ve served in the past and why it didn’t work out so well). And once you publish it, I think you’ll be surprised at who shows up, newly convinced that YOU are the coach/consultant/creative/teacher they’ve been looking for this whole time. Watch as a higher percentage of your prospects start to resemble the people with whom you most love to work, and as a higher percentage of your clients strongly resemble what you’ve set forth on your ‘Is This You’ page.

If you’re looking for the next step, check out Writing the Conversational Sales Page, an online course in crafting a long form sales page that sounds like YOU and speaks directly to these Right People you’ve just done such a great job of profiling. We start soon and we’d love to have you along!

In the comments, I’d love to hear:

Do you currently have an ‘Is This You’ you’re happy with? How’s it working for you? What feels like it might need to change?

(Image credit.)

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