Yesterday I sat down at the desk with a cup of tea shortly after seven-thirty. By nine-thirty, I had:
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read a client’s proposal and offered feedback
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started working on pitch
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responded to a request for further information from an editor interested in a client’s project, which required a couple of phone calls and two e-mails
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talked with a client about my strategy for her book
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wrote a blog post
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started compiling a list of editors to pitch a client’s project, which required mining my list of contacts, the agency’s list of contacts, plus the super-secret database that only the special publishing cabal knows about (that was a joke, in case you’re wondering)
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read a potential client’s proposal, but had to pass
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talked with a client about platform building strategies
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followed up on several outstanding submissions
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wrote a note that will eventually go to web guy about website updates
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turned down a couple of queries – all interesting, but nothing I felt strongly that I could sell
And I still feel like I didn’t get anything done.
That is a productive two hours, wow? Isn’t it amazing how much we can get done and still feel as though we haven’t achieved a thing?
I wish my day had been as productive.