Rubber Ducky Copywriter

Do not be too timid and squeamish about your actions.
All life is an experiment.
– Ralph Waldo Emerson

One year ago this month, I started Rubber Ducky Copywriter.

Little-known fact: I never thought anyone would actually read it.

Yes, there’s a point here that pertains to you.

Rubber Ducky Copywriter started as a sandbox to hone my skills. And, as I had just started freelancing , it was my way of talking things out and explaining my things to myself as I learned.

The back story…

Before I started this one, I had three blogs, all of which were so bad even I didn’t want to read them. Why? I fell into the trap so many others do. I tried to position myself as an expert so that people would take me seriously and hire me.

Building a blog is a good career move, but what’s the point of maintaining blog you can’t stand?

When looking for the perfect theme for my fourth stupid blog, I came to my senses. I got angry at all these “rules” that I was supposed to follow. I was tired of all those fears that were tying my hands.

You know the ones.

What if no one reads it?

What if people read it and hate it?

What if I can’t think of any topics?

What if I can’t compete?

What if I put in all that time and work for nothing?

What if my blog isn’t good enough?

What if I’m not good enough?

Sound familiar? And the list goes on.

I wanted one place—just one!— where I didn’t worry about some mysterious band of gurus policing my every keystroke.

Ye missed a comma! Walk the plank ye addle-brained wench!

I wanted something that was built by my own hands. And written in my own voice, whatever that was. By then I’d spent so much time as a corporate copywriter, I didn’t know what my own voice even sounded like anymore—and I wanted to find it again.

So I threw out the rule book.

And I started a new blog. Named after the rubber duck sitting on my desk, staring at me with judgement.

You’re just realizing this NOW? Dork.

With that ringing vote of confidence from my bathtub toy, Rubber Ducky Copywriter was born.

Funny thing…once I let go of my impossibly high expectations, I started having fun. And with no one editing over my shoulder, I found my voice.

I’m not even going to try to dazzle you with my stats: they impress no one but me.

But more important than stats, I’ve made friends.

• Peter D. Mallet, who always has a kind word and a fresh, creative insight.
• Williesha Morris, with her sweet, wonderful wit and straightforward writing style.
• Sarah Webb, a courageous writer and generous spirit.
• Jesse Lanclos, one sharp-shootin’ writer.

And believe it or not, despite my errors, despite my lack of super-spiffy design, despite my lack of fancy gizmos—those mysterious gurus haven’t shown up to make me walk the plank. Nor have they made me give up writing. Nor taken away my chocolate bar.

Instead (and this wows me every single time) people tell me that I’ve helped them. That what I just posted made a difference for them.

How wonderful and humbling.

What this means to you…

If you’re still waiting to start your blog, think about why. What are you afraid of? How likely is that to happen?

Then give yourself permission to mess up. To not be the most top-rated, gotta-read writer. If there’s room in the blogosphere for me, there’s room for you, too.

So dive in.

Come back in a year to celebrate your blog’s birthday. I can’t promise you a cupcake—they don’t last long around here— but I will wish your blog a happy birthday. And if you’re stalling on another project, dive in and let me know how that goes.

So, what’s holding you back? What will finally prompt you to take action?

Featured on Carol Tice’s Friday Link Party.