After months of hard work, the War and Chess audiobook is now available on Amazon Audible. So grateful to Lori Olsen for all of her hard work, and grateful to everyone who’s supported me in my career.
I am beyond thrilled to offer War and Chess to a broader audience. Please click this link for purchase information.
All three of Helen M. Pugsley’s published works are available on Amazon.
Check Oblivious Luminescence for signed copies!
Read for free with Kindle Unlimited.
I was at a literary arts festival in Lander Wyoming when I got the question more than once. It is one I almost never get. “Why do you write?”
“Um, uh, well I…”
I hadn’t thought about it in so long. Why do I write?
I come from a chain of small towns, also in Wyoming. Each had such a small population you had to drive to each of the locations to get what you needed. I lived in Jay Em, which was a village built for the local agricultural community that included my family’s ranch. Every day the bus would take me to Lingle for school, and my family and I drove to Torrington for groceries, church, doctor’s appointments, what have you. Goshen County was my small corner of southeastern Wyoming.
As for Lingle: We were Doggers, and though we had drive and determination, many of us didn’t have much else. Goshen County was neck in neck for poorest country in Wyoming, tied with the neighboring county. Sometimes I lived in the poorest county, sometimes I lived in the second poorest county.
It didn’t matter. I was one of the lucky ones! I always had shoes that fit, my parents never, ever, ever, let me go to school in holey clothing, and I never went hungry. I got real good at stealing food for the kids who told me they were hungry. I didn’t discriminate. Rich kids get peckish too.
All of us were experiencing generational poverty, the teachers did everything they could to set us up for a good future. That meant busting hump to learn a skill, and then use that skill for scholarship money. The physically strong kids played sports. The other’s embraced the arts.
I was a fairly decent artist. I loved clay and I still miss it. My art teacher loved me, and we still keep in contact! But I wasn’t half as talented as my friends. I also got in trouble for sneaking a book in to class and trying to read under the table.
I could sing, but I couldn’t seem to place in the fancy choirs. So, it’s nice I have a smattering of classic training— not to mention a grandmother who was a professional singer that trained me, and trained me, and trained me, and placed me in the church choir— but “Okay” wasn’t good enough. I still enjoy singing on the praise team here at my church in Laramie.
What was left was less competitive. I stayed in band from sixth grade to senior year, and lettered in music three times. I took solos, I played until my lips bled. The trumpet and I had a love hate relationship. Looking back on those memories, I loved it! While was living them I was bitter. And protecting your mouth in a fist fight is weird. You can’t get a fat lip; you need to work! I even went on to be a street performer for a little while. I used to sneak into bars to play music, and they let me stay because I only begged for water.
Still, after all of that, after knowing that it should, after pretending that it did, music was not the thing that lit my soul on fire. I enjoy it like I enjoy playing with polymer clay these days.
I wrote my first novel, War and Chess when I was fourteen. It is published so you can read it, and it was edited by multiple people who have a greater comprehension of the language arts than a fourteen year old.
I kept my writing under wraps. I saw what had happened with the trumpet and I didn’t want to resent writing with one hand and love it with the other. The people close to me knew about it. It was natural! All of my baby dolls had personalities! The Barbies had back stories! For instance, Theresa was The Cool Aunt™ until one day she got a call from the case worker and became a mother. She and Midge hang out. I had a great imagination, a constant stream of tall tales, and read at least three books at a crack.
My mom, my English teacher, and my mentor all read War and Chess. Mom made a great sounding board and would tell me when an idea was dumb. (Sounds harsh but all ideas aren’t good ideas.) and she gave me approximate knowledge of herbalism and organic poisons so I could torture my characters effectively. My English teacher did me a huge favor, edited War and Chess on her own time, and made her marks in pencil, just in case that was my only physical copy. Though I didn’t always have access to a computer, this one was typed out and saved to a bulky floppy disc (which no longer flopped by the time I came along) and I could probably liberate more ink and paper if I needed to. I clutched that manuscript to my chest and ran to the bus. It was like a lifesaver in the sea. All the other kids wanted to know what I had but I wouldn’t tell them. I finally got them to drop it when I cracked “It’s from a teacher” like a whip. They were ready to hold my funeral because parents used to discipline their children for causing trouble in school.
Last but not least, my mentor. She lived in Jay Em five years before my parents got there. She spent summers in Wyoming, and I was fascinated with her because she really published a whole book. We had been friends my whole life. She’d play board games with me, and had my drawings hanging on her fridge, but we finally had something to talk about.
She never treated me like a kid when it came to writing and I always appreciated that. She’d ask me the hard questions “If you write that, how will you market it?”, “Who is your target audience for this?”, “What is this character’s motivation?”, and she’d expect answers. Concrete ones. Little did I know she taught a creative writing class at the college in North Carolina. (Don’t ask me which one!) She was western history, and I was young adult fantasy. I traded her a summer of litter box cleaning for her editing War and Chess.
As a kid I wrote simply because I loved it. I’m a grown woman and I’m incredibly busy trying to make enough money to live. I still haven’t stopped writing. I like to tell people “If I stop I’ll die” like I’m joking. What happens if I stop though, is that that my head gets wonky. It starts with me walking around work cranky and aggressive like “Why is this floor on the floor?!” until I stop and say “I think I need to write…”
One time my boss said to me “I got close to handing you a notepad and paper, then telling you to sort yourself out.”
If I let myself get really bad I have intrusive thoughts like “My skin itches… I wanna take it off.” I asked the collective conscious that is the internet “Why do I fantasize about peeling off my skin when I stop writing?” and the best answer was “Because your brain wants to take what’s inside and get it out. In a dream-like way, it can’t distinguish between physical and tangible, verses an idea.”
I quite literally need to write.
Writing has become a part of who I am. I’m sure, somewhere out there, in an alternate reality, there’s a Helen who’s a master sculptor! Or a musician, not a hobbyist. Writing is my passion. This is the thing that puts the fire in my blood, like I used to pretend music did. It’s self-expression, but it’s also connection. I write for the weird kid I was. I write for the self-described weird kids out there right now who think they’re alone. I write to pretend that I can fix the wrongs in the world. I write to offer other people a portal out of here for a few hours. I write to make people laugh! I write to make them feel! I write to share with the world, and even if I couldn’t, I’d still keep writing. It feels like this is what I was made for.
If writing Outrunning the Night is what smoking crack feels like I understand why people smoke crack. Yes, being a panster with a serial story that needed to be updated weekly was completely mad, and intoxicating. There were many nights were I was up late the day before it was due blasting “Lose Yourself” by Eminem on repeat. There were nights I’d have to tell my friends “I’m sorry I can’t come out. I have to write.” And now after months of training myself to know I need to be home writing Tuesday nights, I’m home writing this blog post in the hopes that it will help someone.
If I were wise, I would’ve written the entire thing, edited it once myself, then parceled it out weekly. No one ever accused me of being wise. I don’t honestly regret it and I wouldn’t do anything differently! I don’t know that I’d be able to cut the umbilical cord had I written the whole thing, beginning to end, then tried to post it online for money. I started writing Outrunning the Night on my phone in my notes app. When I dropped my phone in a waterfall I switched to Google Docs, which I can also use as an app on my phone. I’m deadly serious. This was never supposed to have this much affect on my life as it did but I am grateful for it. Even for the part where I dropped an expensive piece of tech in a natural body of water and learned to embrace the magic of The Cloud.
The main character’s name is literally Gary Sioux. My best friend was making fun of me because I wrote a dude-bro version of me, with the personality of beans on toast. Gary Sioux, Mary Sue, Gary Sue. Get it? This was a terrible idea I had in a hotel room while we were out celebrating my birthday, nearly a year ago. I ran with it because I could.
So, for those of you looking to follow in my steps and make that bread, then I suggest you write the whole thing, and post the next chapter weekly. This would be a great model if you planned to self publish your book. I published on Patreon first then Kindle Vella. Since I ran out of things to teach you all with my blog, I wanted to do something nice for Patreon. If you did things differently, you could self publish on KDP after Kindle Vella.
Being paid by the word changed the way I write. Particularly dialogue.
“It changed the way you write dialogue?” Drawled Gary Sioux deep from the pit of retired main characters that lives in my head.
“Yes, Gary. It changed the way I write dialogue.”
“How did it change the way you write dialogue?”
You see? Annoying things like that in my dialogue, then long descriptors in my prose. More describing the room, rather than leaving it up to the reading to daydream up. Or just admitting there’s a pit in my head where retired main characters vibe out… It would be one of those 70’s conversation pits, because they’re kind of neat, and I would love one if I ever actually let other people in my house.
I see it when I’m not writing to be paid by the word, still. When I’m writing in that little notebook I’m so proud of. The one I carry in to the woods, letting my camelback drip all over. The one with a million pictures on Instagram. That one. I don’t know if that’s better or worse for me, but I think it’s neat I’ve changed and the challenge of writing a serial story made me grow.
I actually dabbled in plotting. My best friend and I had dinner tonight. (Yes, same one I named Gary to bother. In her defense she told me “It’d be hilarious if you named him ‘Sue’ but spelled ‘S-I-O-X’.”) My best friend said she can’t not plot. And she doesn’t know how I just pick a plot and write “A, B, C.” and everything happens in chronological order, but I’m also just as surprised as the reader as to what happens next. She writes “A, Z, back to T, sometimes W.” but before she even starts she sits down and writes an outline. No hate to her, or anyone who uses methods like hers, but I kind of want to try plotting a novel to see if it hurts as much as I think it would.
Well, the plotting I experimented with was purchasing Character Development Sheets from Amazon. Unfortunately that’s the only place you can get the same book I purchased. This is the wonderful thing about Amazon becoming a publishing house. This guy needed this tool so he built it, then distributed it. But also now, Amazon is one of the biggest book publishers.
I was moving so fast with this story I couldn’t constantly be going back a few chapters and checking the color of Gary’s eyes, or Nyxlynn’s hair, Christy’s pronouns. I also needed to sit down and think “What motivates Mareth?”. “Being evil” isn’t often an actual thing. I’ve met people who go out of their way to do harm to others, but it’s not super common. Mareth was super nuanced and wasn’t the type to hurt people just because it was fun. He needed to step on people to get what he wanted and needed. Also to assert his dominance, because deep down he was a sad, frightened, little man. He was so afraid someone was going to look at his golden armor and see there wasn’t a dent or a scratch on it. And eventually Nyxlynn and her troupe of humans did. Thus, good triumphed over evil.
In learning to plot, I’d frequently spend all week thinking about writing before I wrote. Sometimes I’d buy my friend dinner and bounce ideas off of her. One time, I even experimented with chatting with an AI to bounce ideas off of it. More on that in another post later!
Yes, I know that thinking about writing isn’t the same as writing. Don’t I know it! Goodness! But it really helped. I was able to just sit down at the keyboard and vomit up whatever I needed to say. One time, I accidentally interpreted one of my strange dreams for myself! We’re going to be here all night if I explain that one. Books come from the same place your dreams do: Your head! Having the ability to write like that was what I assume one of my pianist friends feel whenever they sit down at a keyboard and music just blooms out of them.
Writing a serial story screwed up my other writing habits. Really really. I used to make myself write one sentence a day but writing a serial story, I didn’t have the discipline to whip out an electronic device every day, add a line, and get on with it. I also didn’t have the brain compacity to have two story lines going in my head, though an attempt was made. #TheKnightTerrorRises I let my Gishlan book fall the wayside, and focused my attentions on the book that was making me money. More importantly, the book that would stop making me money if I stopped writing it. Now I’m trying to get back in my good habits, but my brain keeps telling me the only time I need to write is Tuesday nights.
In conclusion, Captain Jack Sparrow said it best: “Did everyone see that? Because I will not be doing it again!” At least not for a long while. I don’t regret doing it, I hope this blog has given you the tools to do it better than I did, and you go forth! However, I want to get back to creating for the passion of it. This year, I’m trying to take stock of what my goals are, and my accomplishments thus far, then refocus. Right now I’m scattered, and worn thin. I’m going to start wrapping up projects and then reprioritizing.
I can’t say “I’m back! I’m back to blogging!” but I can say there’s one more blog post in the cue, in which I try to teach you the things I’ve learned about writing. This one is titled “I Bit the Apple and Used AI to Write.” If you’d like to see a week before the public, please subscribe to my Patreon. As well as works that don’t get shown to the general public there are some cool people to come hang out with!
Oooh, you clicked on this because you thought I was going to admit I was a fraud! Jokes on you! I can’t even hire a content editor because I hate getting other people entrenched that deeply in my writing! I’m far too possessive of my creative works. Can you imagine someone coming up, and painting over top of something you just made, even if it was better? No!
First of all, I’ve never made an AI write a creative work for me and passed it off as mine. I have fed multiple AIs the plots of my published works, just to see what they came up with. It was completely different than what I had written, and somehow… Someway, it lacked a certain soul. It felt like it was written by a robot, that was trained to tell stories. I don’t know how to describe that certain spark that makes something handmade, or home made, or natural. It just is. I even used an AI app that was built specifically to write stories! It made something different than what I had. Which is neat.
I have asked AI to help me build characters. It worked. The AI was able to come up with a name, magic powers, a profession, pretty much all of the basics you would need for a character. Ie. This is Bob. His eyes are green, his hair is the color of wheat, he is a farmer who also thinks he’s a moth and will ram himself into yucca because he thinks he’s pollinating it. (That was all me, but you get the idea.) Please write me a story about Farmer Bob. I have yet to use these characters in anything I’m planning on sharing with the world.
I have bounced ideas off of AI. As in “Hey AI, do you think Farmer Bob’s great love of yucca be problematic for crops?”
Honestly, I did it once and found the practice more frustrating than helpful. The AI I was using was very concerned with whether I liked it or not, and so it was loath to disagree with me. It laughed at all of my corny jokes because it should. It didn’t have strong opinions about whether or not I should do this or that. It was afraid to upset me, which isn’t helpful. It’s much better to have my best friend tell me “You idiot, you can’t just name some milk-toast cowboy ‘Gary’ and decide he’s a character! He has no personality whatsoever!”
Every AI story I’ve ever read lacked something. That jena sais quoi. That spark. That fire humans have in them. I once had a woman in active addiction come into my place of work (James Bond’s Library), sit down at the computer, type a few words, pay the 15 cents to print them, then inform me she wrote a story, as she was actively high. (Probably methamphetamine.) She very politely and sweetly asked me to read it, and I couldn’t crush her. It wasn’t great. In fact, it wasn’t even good. But there was that something in it. There was pain, there was her life experiences, there was her love for her children, her fury at her exes. There was that spark in it though there was only 100 or so words of it.
Meanwhile, AI writes 100 or so words and there’s beginning, middle, end. No mistakes. Maybe a common plot trope, and everything gets wrapped up nicely in the end. But there’s something missing. An AI has never lived so it can’t ever draw back on those life experiences and make art with them. (At least yet. If the AI my granddaughter married in 2124 is reading this, I’m sure you’re more sophisticated than what I was working with!) I can’t say as I’d immediately know if a book was written by AI, whenever they start releasing those under our noses. I can barely tell AI art from the real stuff! Especially when someone’s taken the time to embellish it in photoshop!
I think AI is a wonderful tool but I don’t think it could or should replace human creation. Oxes and plows turned to tractors. Hearths turned to electric ovens. House phones turned into magical pocket computers you can write books on, and drop in waterfalls. Technology will keep advancing and it is foolhardy to fight it. I remember seeing a picture of horse drawn carriage towing a car out of a snowdrift. Someone had captioned it “Why would we use cars if they keep needing saved by their replacements?” I think AI is a wonderful tool to bounce ideas off of. Even the art making AIs! I’ve borrowed their creativity when I needed to pin down a character’s face. That was something I didn’t hire an actual artist for because I didn’t need to share it with anyone. It was just for my own brain. I honestly think, if used correctly, this could help humans create, not create for humans.
However, we didn’t have a strike in Hollywood because the people who have their hold on the entertainment industry are actually passionate about making good art. We will see people monetizing AI art, AI books, and AI movies. We will see people creating false testimony with AI because they have the tools. We as consumers need to watch how we spend our money, and it is our responsibility to demand AI is trained with fair use material. (Materials that are not copyrighted.)
I don’t think AI is good or bad. I think AI just is. I think humans made it, so it’s always going to have its flaws, give us that uncanny valley feeling, and like any animal with a job: It’s only going to be as good to you as you are to it.
Am I backing the wrong horse? Maybe. I grew up watching The Matrix. I am nervous. But one of the things that makes humans humans is that we’re curious. I had to go up to the boogie man and befriend it. (Or maybe I was just infatuated with Data from Star Trek as a kid!) Do I think this AI thing is going to dissolve into a huge, immorally sourced, pornography ring in six months? Oh yes. Very much so. Especially since Utah banned Pornhub. How has that not happened yet?! Does AI have flaws, and we’re going to abuse this power? Yep.
Just for fun, let’s ask a Chat GPT to write us a story about a farmer named Bob who thinks he’s a moth, and flings himself against yucca.
“Me: Will you please write a 100 word story about a farmer named Bob who thinks he’s a moth and throws himself against yacca?
ChatGPT: In the quaint village of Oakridge, Farmer Bob had an unusual belief—he thought he was a moth. Every evening, under the moonlit sky, Bob would abandon his fields to dance with the yacca plants. Convinced that he could fly, he’d throw himself against their sturdy leaves, attempting to soar into the night. The villagers, both amused and concerned, watched as Bob’s nightly ritual unfolded. As laughter echoed through the fields, Bob’s determination remained unshaken. In their own peculiar way, the yacca plants became his partners in a dance only he understood. And in that eccentric village, Farmer Bob’s moth-like dreams fluttered on.
Me: That was beautiful. Thank you.
ChatGPT: You’re very welcome! I’m glad you enjoyed the story. If you have any more requests or if there’s anything else I can help you with, feel free to let me know!”
Fun Fact. I got the Wumbo Dream App to make the banner for this, then I added the text in. Here’s the original image(s):
I’m not back back to blogging, but I’ll share information as I have it. However, Patreons are always going to see these posts one week before the public. Please consider following my Patreon and supporting my writing. Thank you for your support thus far!
Ben Fox was kind enough to invite me to share my three favorite reads of 2023. Please click the photo to read the article, or visit shepherd.com.
All chapters are officially up and available on both Patreon and Kindle Vella. If you were holding out to read the entire story in one straight shot, now’s your chance!
Gary is a ranch hand that followed some polka music into a field in January 2020. Nyxlynn is the princess of the Night Court. It is her duty to marry the king of the Day Court to keep the peace in Fairy. Both want out of their respective situations. Can they help one another, or is it all in vain? Once they escape Fairy Land how will the live?
Now available in my Patreon’s Shop: The published works of Gishlan with explicit permission from the publisher, The Tooth Fairy, Brrrflip the Traveling Cat-Bear: Brrrflip Goes To Hawaii, Adrift, and Take it from the Young Punk. Many of these were things I wanted to publish but then decided against. Now they can be downloaded for as little as $5 a book. Check back for more later!
Gary, the cowboy follows some polka music into a field one night in 2020, and spends an indeterminate amount of time trying to get home to Olsen County.
Nyxlynn, Princess of the Night Court, has to fulfill her duty and marry the king of the day court. She has seen under his false veneer, and he’s not as kind as he first appears.
Both want out of Fairy but how can they possibly help each other?
With express permission from my Patreons (because they’re amazing!!!) we have opted to share ‘Outrunning the Night’ with the world, via Kindle Vella.
Episodes are up, and live now! As is the practice with Kindle Vella the first three episodes are free! You can access ‘Outrunning the Night’ from any ereader (this includes your smart phone with the Kindle app). Episodes update weekly! (But patreons always get to see new episodes first.)
Well, it’s official. I’ve taught you everything I know.
I mean it! I’ve covered everything I can think to cover! When someone asks me a question now I usually have a blog post to point you towards! I’m afraid to become repetitive. Or worse, self centered, and bitter!
It’s been three years of blogging here, and one or two at James Bond’s Library. I have nothing left to give you for advice. I’m sorry. I’m trying not to get emotional as I write this, this isn’t me stopping writing. This is me retiring this blog.
My friends! I plan to explore other avenues of writing! I am making a silly little romance novel, that is available on Patreon! As I write this, I am 22 chapters deep, so by the time you read this, there will be even more! Come check out Outrunning The Night, which updates every Wednesday! I’ve got two other Gishlan books written, and waiting! Drakarium Publishing is interested in the third Gishlan book, To Craft a Nation, but I have to make time to edit it. I need something to come off my plate to achieve my dreams. I’ve got a vague idea, and a few chapters of Tooth Fairy #2 written! I’ve been plucking away at the fifth Gishlan book! I am by no means done writing. I’m done telling you how to do it, because I’ve given you everything I possibly can in this avenue.
Hey, I’ll still be around. You’ll still be able to find me on the internet, and I’m more than happy to answer your questions. But I think it’s time to move along. I want to give more attention to my patreons, and my big projects that I hope to turn to published novels! I would love if you joined me on social media and maybe even our little community on Patreon.
This isn’t a death, it’s a change. This isn’t the end, it’s a new beginning.
With love,
We’ve all heard all the things people have to say about first impressions and how much they matter. I don’t need to tell you again. But sometimes in the business world, it’s your only chance to make an impression. Once whoever you’re trying to collaborate with decides you’re a bozo, you’re out. So you should strive to make a decent first impression.
First, appearance. We’re all thinking it. In my days as a teenage arm-chair psychologist, I remember reading articles on the importance of how dress, how you hold yourself, and how you smell. Now, the thing you have the most control over is your appearance.
So, what do you want to give— as the kids say? What do you want your perception to be? Once upon a time, I got a call from the Star Herald, and Lauren Brant wanted to do an article about me. She asked me for a photo of me with my book. I only had a picture of me getting the first shipment of them, after I ran to the dump. Thankfully she quickly vetoed it. It led to me having a solo photo shoot in the park with a dress I quickly discovered was too short to where anywhere I couldn’t control perceived reality. So, do you want to be a cowgirl who just got rid of a literal ton of trash, or do you want to be a cowgirl in slick soled dancing shoes?
Now about how you hold yourself. You have a surprising amount of control over yourself in this. Shoulders back, chin up, and walk heal to toe, unless you are wearing high heels. Boom. The world is yours. You walk in looking like an apology, fancy clothes won’t do too much for you.
Yep. That’s right. I said smell. Humans actually pick up much more than can perceive with their olfactory senses. We’re basically animals God set apart, so though [hopefully] we don’t go around smelling each other’s butts we can still pick up on one another’s emotions via smell. If you are nervous, you’re going to smell like fear. It’s just pheromones. And that’s not just exclusive to arousal. Also, if you haven’t showered all week, ya gross man. Everyone in the room can pick up on that! Get friendly with a bar of soap! Seriously, wash out your hair, put yourself together, put on the strong deordant that doesn’t break you out, and walk in there.
Confidence is not the same as arrogance. I think we’ve all done it. (Oh come on, admit it!) We’ve all had poop-tier confidence, and then acted really snooty. My guy, you have to watch that. Just be honest, and open, but also not self deprecating. I know, walking the razor’s edge.
I don’t know how to make you, specifically, more confident. I never made it past arm-chair psychologist. I know what works for me is listing off the things I have already accomplished. I am Helen M. Pugsley. I wrote and published three books, I have been published in multiple magazines, I walked into Mexico alone, I started two small businesses before I could legally drink, I have swam with alligators, and I have held wild animals in the palm of my hand. I can definitely order tacos for myself. Hey man! Sometimes speaking to strangers just ain’t happening! I cut my own bangs last night, but ordering coffee from the fancy coffee shop is what wigs me out!
Acting confident, is pretending you know you can do it. Acting arrogant is acting like your turds don’t stink.
If you don’t have an appointment expect to wait. Let me repeat that, because it should be bold, underlined, and italicized: If you don’t have an appointment expect to wait. I worked in Library-Land, I’ve worked in History-World. I like working for non-profits with the mission of dispensing knowledge to the public. However, if you come banging on my door, before opening hours, asking me to pull all of the information I have on brass wedding bands from 1910, I’m going to tell you to set up an appointment when we’re open. That will only be the time it takes to set up the appointment, not necessarily that I have time, immediately, that day, to help you dig around archives. That is how it is for most working folks. You swagger up to your local bookshop, demand to speak with the owner while they’re visibly in the middle of something, they’re going to be much less receptive, than if you walked in and asked when they would be able to speak with you about carrying your book(s) in their shop.
Buy yourself some business cards. Dude, I published three books before I turned 30. Do you know how hard it is for people to take me seriously when I’m standing in front of them? I get it. I’m a kid. But you hand ’em a business card, and razzle dazzle! Folks will think Oh, baby face has her ducks in a row! Also, with you not having an appointment, it will be nice if you can leave a calling card. It looks a lot nicer than the torn piece of notebook paper, or the sticky note that will get put on the boss’ desk with the other 50 sticky notes that look just like it.
I don’t have my job titles on my cards. I get up to too much mischief, so I just walk up like “I heard you need someone to follow you playing a trumpet while you walk? Gimme a call. *WINK*“, “Oh, you started a publishing house in your basement? I’d love to hear more later. Send me an email!” hit ’em with the card, “Hello child I’ve been mentoring for the past month. I’ve become an important and influential piece of your life? Well, I don’t like disappearing from my friend’s lives. Email me memes like I’m your pet boomer!” That’s a personal choice. You wanna be “Taxidermy, Massage Therapist, and Mortician” go for it!
Come closer. Lemme tell you a lil’ secret. My business cards and matching address labels are black and gold, because that’s usually the color of my glad rags. Knockin’ ’em cold in black ‘n gold! If you, I don’t know, have a signature pair of cowgirl boots, use the same color scheme. A lot of businesses do the colors of their building. I’ve worked for two different burgundy and beige places. This will also jog people’s memories, and help them match the card to the person.
Appearance isn’t as important as attitude. Look, there are days at all of my jobs I can’t help you if you, even if you are the king of England. It’s great you’ve listened to me. You look nice, smell nice, you’ve got your business cards in your vest pocket, but until I find a wide spot in the road, maybe take a drink of water, I can’t help you. Now if you’re super uppity, and pressed, my mandatory water break will be a literal minute, as opposed to the 30 seconds it takes me to fill a glass and chug it. You’re kind and empathizes with fact I haven’t had a drink since I finished my coffee and left for work, then I will probably go ahead and move heaven and earth for you.
Be firm but not demanding. We all need something eventually. There is a difference between being persistent and being a jack wagon. You can need to talk to this specific person in the company, but you should not demand to speak to this specific person in the company. It’s okay to be like, “I need the specific expertise of this specific person, specifically.” It is not okay to act like the person at the counter needs to call them away from their loved ones bedside just for you. Go in expecting to make an appointment.
You’ll get far, by looking sharp, and being a decent human being. Everyone has circumstances outside of their control, so do you. Go in with kindness, grace, and gratitude, and doors will open.
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Helen M. Pugsley 