The e-book is pretty inspiring, but when you get right down to it it’s a guide on how to start a blog on something that you’re passionate about and then make money selling information products like e-books and e-courses. The zero-hour workweek comes in because you love your job so much that it doesn’t feel like work. When you work, it feels like play — so can you really call it work?

I realized a couple of things while reading this e-book. First: I’m there! I love what I do so much that it feels like fun. Sure, there are times when I get burned out, but since I made my pact with myself last year to stop writing for markets that are a PITA, I’ve felt very energized towards my work. And while I say I cut my workweek down to two days, I’m not sure that’s accurate as what I do often doesn’t feel like “work.” I guess you could say instead that I spend two days per week teaching, and writing for clients who appreciate me and treat me (and pay me) well.

I love teaching my e-courses and doing mentoring. I love it when a student who was having problems coming up with a salable idea or crafting a query lede writes to me to say that my advice helped her, and when she writes to tell me she just landed her first assignment from a newsstand magazine. I also love when an editor thanks me for making her job easier. (Just got one of those today, in fact!) And of course, I love it when checks from magazines appear in my mailbox.

The second thing I realized is that I’ve fallen into a business area that can come across as kind of — well, scummy. I don’t know if this is new or if I’m just starting to notice it, but there are lots of people who try to make money by “creating value for others,” as the personal development-speak goes. People build blogs, call themselves experts, and promise readers riches. Coaches and e-courses abound, all promising to help you live your dreams or to make you a millionaire — usually by selling info products yourself. They kind of remind me of those envelope-stuffing scams: The scammers promise to show you how to make thousands of dollars working from home, and when you pay up, you get instructions on how to run your own envelope-stuffing ruse.

One thing I never notice is that these self-appointed gurus never mention how much they earn, but they give the impression that they make big bucks and you can, too.

(Okay, I can’t very well post that and not come clean myself. So here’s the big reveal: I make $70-80,000 per year (it varies), mainly by writing for magazines. I’ve written for more than 120 magazines over the last 13 years; you can see a list here.)

Selling information products like e-courses and coaching online is so easy that many people with dubious credentials are jumping on the bandwagon. One aspiring writer e-mailed me recently that she took an e-course in query writing from someone who claimed to be an experienced magazine writer, though she listed no credits on her website. (No, she didn’t tell me who the instructor was. I wish I knew!) The student was disappointed in the course, and decided to do a little sleuthing. She looked up my name on Infotrac, which is a database of magazine articles, and saw that I had about 240 articles in the database. (I believe it tracks only national magazines, though, as I know I’ve written more than that!) She then plugged the other writer’s name into Infotrac and came up with — get this — three articles, all for the same magazine. Yikes! Even taking into account that Infotrac doesn’t track local magazines, that’s a pretty skimpy number for someone charging money for her expertise.

I’ve also run across many self-proclaimed personal development experts who promise to help you live your dream. I have no idea if these people are credentialed, because what are the credentials for such a thing? These instructors are probably living their dreams, because their dreams are to make money coaching and selling e-books. And they can help you live your dream — if your dream is to build a blog and sell info products yourself. (And the cycle continues.)

I don’t mean to diss everyone who sells information products except yours truly. I regularly have sessions with a life coach who has helped me in many ways. I know very experienced writers who teach courses online and off. And lately I’ve been reading some really good productivity blogs written by people who also offer coaching, and I believe they have the chops. But the field seems to be exploding with — well, not scammers, but people who simply don’t have the credentials to be charging money for their coaching, e-courses, e-books, and so on.

So here I am, offering e-courses and mentoring! I’ve wondering lately if I give the same icky impression that I get from some of the coaches I’ve run across in the burgeoning personal development field, or some of the writing instructors who claim to be experts but have nothing to back it up.

But I like to think that I got in on the game early, when the Internet wasn’t crawling with coaches, and managed to set myself apart before coaching turned into a free-for-all.

So that’s my rant: I love what I do, but worry that I’m icky. I guess if there’s any take-home value to this post, it’s that you should give the third-degree to anyone you’re considering hiring as a coach or whose courses you’re considering taking — including me. Check their websites for credentials, and if they don’t list any, ask (not everyone feels the need to brag about their creds online!). Then check out their claims by doing a little sleuthing on your own, and be sure that their credentials line up with what you want to learn. (For example, I admit I can’t teach you how to break into The New Yorker because I don’t have the creds to do so!) Remember that the money you spend on information products should be a good investment in your career, so don’t be afraid to ask questions. [lf]

A couple of things happened today that inspired this post. First, someone posted on a forum for professional writers asking for tips on how to get started as a freelancer. This, of course, caused many pro writers to become PO’d. (Why expect professionals to spend hours giving you advice that you can find in countless books and websites?)

Second, someone e-mailed me today asking for a list I compiled of magazines that assign health articles, which I mentioned on a different forum (the list was part of a handout for Diana’s and my Canyon Ranch presentation). When I sent her the list, which included about 30 magazines with their snail mail addresses, URLs, phone numbers, and e-mail formats, she wrote back lamenting that the list didn’t include editor names. (Oh, I’m sorry that the free information that I provided was not up to your exacting standards.)

Most of the people who write to me asking for help and advice are professional and polite. I don’t mind answering a brief question or two, and the asker often writes back later to let me know how he fared using my advice (which is gratifying). Everybody wins! But based on these two situations today, I think some writers need a lesson in how to ask for advice.

1. Let the writer know that you respect her time.

A little groveling never hurt anyone. Some aspiring writers start their e-mails by saying, “I know you’re busy, but I was wondering if you had a minute to answer my question.” Others launch into a list of questions without acknowledging that they’re asking the writer to spend her otherwise billable time helping out a stranger. Guess which ones get answered?

2. Keep it short.

Try to distill your question down to just a few sentences. This is good practice for all kinds of writing, and is also more likely to generate a response than a rambling recounting of your life as a writer.

3. Be specific.

A question like “How do I write a query?” would take the writer hours to answer; after all, there are entire books on the subject. Keep your questions as specific as possible.

4. Don’t poach.

Many professional writers have writing books or e-books or offer writing e-courses. Don’t ask a bunch of questions that the writer answers in her book or course. For example, don’t write to Jenna Glatzer, author of The Street Smart Writer, asking “How can I avoid writing scams?” Don’t write to Kelly James-Enger, author of Six Figure Freelancing, to ask how to boost your writing income. Most writers hate to say “Buy my book” but — buy their books! (I’m using Jenna and Kelly as hypothetical examples here; they haven’t expressed any grievances to me about writers asking for advice, and this tip applies to all authors.)

5. Do your research.

If you post on a forum (or e-mail a writer) to ask “How do I get started?” you might as well wear a flashing sign that says, “Flame Me!” Read the forum archives, do a Google search, pick up some writing books at the bookstore or library, and read magazines like Writer’s Digest and The Writer. Lurk on forums until you have a good idea of what kinds of posts are and aren’t acceptable.

6. Remember that you get what you pay for.

When you’re asking for free advice or information, don’t get upset if the writer doesn’t spend hours pondering and answering your questions, or if the information isn’t everything you had hoped for. If your question is broad or the writer is swamped with work, she may reply with a quick list of resources for you to check out or books for you to read. Instead of pitching a hissy because the writer didn’t carefully answer each of your questions herself, appreciate the fact that she took the time to compile a list for you…then go and read the resources she recommended.

7. Say thanks.

Be sure to thank the writer for her advice; I can’t tell you how many times I’ve written long, thoughtful answers to writers’ questions and never received a thank-you. Professional writers also love to know how you fared with their advice, so do write back later to let her know. For example, I got an e-mail yesterday from a writer who said that she followed my advice and landed her first national assignment. That’s nice to hear!

8. Return the favor.

Many writers I help return the favor by alerting me of new magazines and sites they think I’d be interested in, recommending my e-course to others, or sharing editor names with me when they break into a new pub. Sharing with others generates good writer karma.

9. Pay it forward.

When you’re a famous, wealthy writer, remember the help you got from professional writers when you were starting out and “pay it forward” by helping others land their big break.

Recently, I made the decision that it was time to buy a new computer — and to make the switch from PC to Mac. It’s a big step, but one that will be useful as I grow my business in new directions.

The toughest part of the switch for me is saying good-bye to my keyboard. (I can’t imagine this one will be Mac-friendly.) That’s because, as my daughter likes to say, “Mom, your keyboard is hard-core.” And she’s right.

I have thousands of bylines that attest to the fact that I make my living as a writer. But it’s my keyboard that tells the story of the tens of thousands of hours I’ve spent at this desk working at my craft. I’ve completely worn the letters off of several keys. Several people who have used my computer to look up something online have commented that it’s tough to navigate my keyboard because so many of the keys are blank.

The space bar and the backspace key have gotten so much use that they’ve been worn down and are smooth, like rocks that are polished by constant contact with tidal waters.

But the real evidence is in the 15 keys that I’ve used so much that my fingerprints are embedded in them. Quite literally, my identity is fused into these pieces of grey plastic.

It’s put up with a lot being a writer’s keyboard — countless crumbs from my habit of wanting something crunchy to eat while I write, getting soaked from the occasional cup of coffee that gets tipped over on my desk, cats walking across the keys. Fortunately, I’m not given to fits of writer’s rage, so it’s never been smacked or whacked.

And, I’ll admit that I’ve tried other keyboards. In an attempt to reduce the number of cables on my desk, I swapped it out for a wireless one a couple of years ago and stuck it in a drawer. But the batteries kept conking out on me during interviews, which wasn’t acceptable. I needed to know my equipment was going to work when I needed it. So I pulled this out of storage and never looked back.

So, I think I might ask the computer wizards if there’s a way to make this keyboard work with whatever new piece of hardware I wind up buying. If they can’t adapt it, I’m going to turn it into a piece of artwork to display in my office, kind of like a retired jersey, a visual reminder that being a writer leaves a permanent mark. [Pat Curry]

I took my daughter’s car in today to Jiffy Lube to get the oil changed, largely because we had a $3 coupon. It was a $32.99 service. I walked out having paid $76, singing their praises and promising them referrals. Here is why:

They treated us with the utmost respect.

They did an inspection of the car, noted items that were recommended by the manufacturer at our mileage, and let us decide what to purchase or not purchase.

They were incredibly fast.

They had fresh coffee and that morning’s newspaper in the waiting room — and pointed that out to us.

They gave us a premium. Anytime in the next three months, we can go into any Jiffy Lube and get the fluids topped off — and the interior vacuumed — for free.

They didn’t recommend things we didn’t need (we thought we needed new wiper blades — we didn’t).

They found the $3 coupon in the back seat, pulled it out, and scanned it in for us without asking — and pointed that out to us.

They vacuumed out the car.

It was raining when we left, so instead of pulling the car out of the garage, they left it inside, opened the doors for us, and pointed out obstacles in the garage that might be tripping hazards as we walked to the car.

They thanked us repeatedly for our business.

When we got in the car, I said, “Wow. They really plan on being in business for a long time.” My daughter, who is 23, said she’d be happy to get her oil changed at Jiffy Lube for the rest of her life.

As entrepreneurs who benefit greatly from repeat business, what can we learn from this? Here are some of my take-aways from the experience:

Stay in touch. We went to Jiffy Lube because we got a coupon in the mail. I’m not sure I want to offer coupons, but I do think it’s important to keep our names in front of our clients with regular notes between assignments. It could be a study or a press release that you think might interest them.

Keep the place clean and inviting. For writers, this translates into clean copy. No typos, no weird formatting, and stories that meet their pub’s style requirements.

Be considerate of their time. I thought we’d be sitting there for quite a while, especially after we added a tire rotation to the list of tasks to be done, but we were in and out of there very quickly. If you can get a story done early and get it crossed off your editor’s plate, by all means, do it. The added perk of this is that the sooner you turn a story in, the sooner you’ll get paid (most of the time).

Tell your clients about the extras you do for them, like Jiffy Lube did with the fresh coffee and newspaper, and finding our coupon! You do excellent work for your clients, and you probably do some extras that other writers don’t. Make sure they know about it.

Offer add-ons. I could get all kinds of stuff done at Jiffy Lube beyond an oil change — and I did, enough to more than double my original bill. We can do that, too. For us, maybe it’s blog posts or podcasts or trade show coverage or copy editing.

Point out the tripping hazards. Some assignments are just bears. Some sources are nightmares. Don’t leave your editors in the dark about problems.

Thank them for their business. This should be a standard part of every assignment you turn in.

Anyone else know of some successful business practices that could translate well into freelance writing? [Pat Curry]

I always thought that writing ability was an inborn talent — either you had it or you didn’t. I just couldn’t imagine, say, Annie Dillard ever struggling in her English classes. And not that I consider myself a great talent, but I do make a good living as a freelance writer, and I was in all the advanced reading classes in elementary school and wrote my first poem — with internal rhyming — at age 6.

According to Gladwell, success can be an accident of birth timing. Those born right after the cut-off date for any activity, from school to hockey teams, join these activities a year more mature than people born before the cut-off date. For example, in Canada the cut-off date for junior hockey is January 1, and the most successful players are overwhelmingly born in the first three months of the year. Because these players are bigger and more coordinated when they finally start, they play a bit better, and because they play better, they get more attention and more opportunities for practice. I’m not sure when the cut-off date was for my elementary school (I was born in February), but because I showed a little spark in kindergarten, I was given more opportunities to learn in the advanced reading classes. One teacher even gave me a picture dictionary in the first grade because she wanted to encourage my writing talent. (Math, on the other hand? Don’t ask.)

Gladwell also focuses on the benefits of practice. He notes that amateur pianists get 2,000 hours of practice by the time they’re 20, while professional pianists at the top of their field rack up 10,000 hours of practice by age 20. The studies show no evidence of people who practice their hearts out and don’t succeed, or people who barely practice but still rise to the top. It’s all about practice — which of source is influenced by other issues, such as how much opportunity you have for practice; if you’re poor and have to work a job as a teen, you won’t have the time to practice enough to become advanced.

So what does this mean? It means I may have been wrong. You don’t need innate talent to succeed at writing, but you do need plenty of ass-in-chair. You need to hone your grammar, read constantly (when you’re not writing, that is), study great writers, and write, write, write. If your grammar stinks, you need to study grammar. If your first draft is no good, you need to write a second draft — and a third, and a fourth. Even if you didn’t get opportunities for practice when you were younger, it’s not too late to rack up your 10,000 hours.

What do you think? Is writing talent inborn or does it come from practice? Do you consider yourself a natural talent? Please post in the Comments below. [lf]

As a testament to Monica’s awesomeness as a writer and cook, the book’s foreword is written by none other than Mark Bittman of the New York Times‘ Minimalist/Bitten fame. Or as I like to think of him, that guy who wrote the cookbook I turn to most in my kitchen, How to Cook Everything.

On top of all this, yesterday The Golden Pencil posted an interview with Monica yesterday in its Successful Freelancer Spotlight. Check it out!

Yay Monica! We here at the RW blog are so proud of you. [db]

Brazen Careerist

The 4-Hour Workweek

I’ve read the 4-Hour Workweek and had mixed feelings about the book when I put it down. I liked it because helped me figure out a way to do the types of stories I wanted to write.

On the other hand, I rolled my eyes at how Ferriss won his kickboxing world record (he played a loophole in the rules), and after subscribing to his blog for a few months, I decided to drop it from my feed reader. It might have been the fact that he made scrambled eggs in a microwave oven. I’m just not sure I can take food advice from someone who’d cook an egg this way. And besides, I wasn’t reading his blog to get his egg-cooking tips, any more than you’d give a rat’s ass how Linda and I pluck our eyebrows or exfoliate our elbows on our how-to-make-moolah-writing blog.

At first read, I was impressed at how honest Trunk was with her feelings about Ferriss and his book. Then I felt weird about it and uncomfortable for her. I cringed when she wrote what she learned about Ferriss through her book editor; I’d be annoyed if I were her editor for letting that confidence out. Let me rule out right now: it’s not a gender thing. I love reading the rants of angry women. I applaud women who take a stand. Trunk’s a terrific writer and I respect her honesty. But there’s honesty and there’s offering your readers free reign to pick through your dirty laundry basket, and that’s how I felt after reading this post — I saw too much of Trunk’s dirty underwear here.

On the other hand, Trunk and Ferriss, being master marketers and all, are probably giving each other virtual high fives this morning. I bet Ferriss’s amazon.com numbers went up, and so did Trunk’s, and they both got a bunch of new blog subscribers. So what do I know?

What do you think? Would you ever publicly skewer another writer in the way Trunk did, decide to play nice, or say nothing at all and keep your opinions about a professional colleague you dislike to yourself? Why or why not? Add your comments below. [db]

I mentioned gaming, one of the three vice industries that tends to do well in bad times (alcohol and tobacco are the other two). If you’re addicted to your kid’s Wii or can navigate casinos in New Jersey and Connecticut blindfolded, you could parlay your gamer-girl (or -boy) knowledge into some good assignments.

No matter what the economy is like, everyone needs to eat. People might not be dining out as much, which is excellent news for food writers who know their way around a kitchen. You can write articles about creating favorite restaurant dishes at home, develop recipes for families on budgets (“Feed your family for a week on $25″), or review kitchen gadgets. This is precisely the kind of writing I’m doing right now and I’m busier than ever! If you have any interest in writing about food, sign up for Monica Bhide’s fantastic food writing class here on the Renegade Writer, a course that gets rave reviews. It’s jam-packed with exclusive interviews with top food writers and editors, and it even includes a cookbook proposal that sold!

The travel and tourism industries get kicked around quite a bit during recessions, but one segment of this industry that fares well is luxury travel. The super-rich still manage to squeeze in ski trips to Gstaad and South African safaris even when their stock portfolios are taking a pounding. It just so happens that our travel writing course is taught by Alison Stein Wellner, and one of her beats is the luxury travel market. I know she’s wicked busy with assignments, so if you have a pen for the glitz, you might want to consider writing “above your station” so to speak. On the other end of the spectrum is budget travel, although I’m guessing the markets might be a little hard to find right now. But you could always start a blog if you had a unique angle, something like budget travel for the foodie or traveling when you have more dash than cash.

And speaking of which, if you have a talent for pinching pennies, you can apply this knowledge to just about any beat or industry.

I could keep going on, but I’ll turn this over to you guys. What do you think are the best beats for freelancers in 2009? Add your comments below. [db]

But moving on. The author, Alexandra Penney, became enormously wealthy for writing that book, which was on the New York Times bestsellers list for weeks, along with the other sex-advice books she penned through the years. She was also Self magazine’s editor-in-chief for years. Then she became a freelance artist. In her late 40s, she invested all of her retirement money — her life savings — with Bernie Madoff’s investment company. And you know what happened next.

Now Penney is blogging about what it’s like to be nearing retirement with her nest egg gone on Tina Brown’s new site, The Daily Beast. She has written three posts so far on her blog, titled The Bag Lady Papers, and I’m addicted. She’s getting flamed like crazy: people are criticizing her for worrying about the housekeeper she’ll have to let go, the white shirts she’ll have to iron herself, and the second home and (possibly) her apartment she’ll have to sell. Sure, compared to many folks, she’s lived a privileged life, and you could argue she was a fool to hand her whole nest egg to Madoff. On the other hand, she worked hard to earn this money and she acknowledges she has enjoyed the good life. Seems like she has plenty of cause for anger when her future’s been pulled out from under her.

I think she’s brave to blog about her experience, her despair, her fears. One thing I like about her blog is that she sounds like a spunky chick; I have no doubt she’ll pull through.

What do you think? Do you feel any compassion for her or think she’s an entitled whiner? Post your comments below. [db]