Tuesday, 11 September 2012

Card Carrying

I've just spent far too long agonising over business cards. And I feel silly about it, so what better way to salve that than tell the world at large about my general embarrassment. Somewhere in my psyche, telling people that something embarrasses me makes it feel less embarrassing. Confessional.

I'm going to The Word, a day for writers in Lancashire, in a couple of weeks. I am really looking forward to spending time talking to and learning from writers I really admire. We are encouraged to bring, amongst other things, business cards. I've been meaning to make some up for ages, in an attempt to offer something more slick than the ripped out biro'ed details I find myself doing when requested that will almost certainly fall into that black hole of ripped out biro'ed papers as soon as we part ways.

In the past I've got as far as researching designs online, and maybe playing with fonts. The emotional block comes with the assertion, under my name, of putting 'Writer'. It just feels a bit too sure of myself. It's not that I don't think I'm a writer. It's what I do all day every day. It's what I am making a (limited) income from now. But it's what I worry other people might think of me, which is stupid; when I see other people's business cards, I think; "Oh, that's really useful. Nice logo..." and that's about the extent of it.

The thing is, I love to do, make, write, create, build, lead groups, I think I'm okay at it...(cringe), but something terribly English prevents me from pointing it out. And making a business card is the ultimate in self promotion. It assumes people will want it, or that I would be so bold as to offer it.

So. My tack has been to produce a card I think is so utterly lovely that I might give it out simply to share the image on the front. "Yes, it's nice isn't it? Oh, that, on the back? That's just my contact details, should you need them."

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