As a freelancer, I’m no stranger to promoting myself. You get over any modesty you may have had when you entered into this gig pretty fast, or you tend not to be very successful. So yes, I have no problem hawking my writing skills to you or anyone else. Can I write? Yes, I can. And do. And will. And I’m pretty darn good at it, if I do say so myself. Heh.

What I’m finding—now that I’m well-established as a writer, and still trying to expand my expertise and reach—is that I need to become even more brazen in my broadcasting of my capabilities. Part of what I also do (and enjoy) is speak at conferences, and there are lots of reasons to do this in almost any field. It’s great experience in dealing with people; it’s a networking and marketing opportunity; and it’s much-needed “face time” in a field where so much of my business is conducted alone in my office. (Yes, freelancing and connectivity and the ability to work from anywhere is great, but there’s still plenty of old-school clients who’d like to know there’s a person behind the email, you know?)

I have a confession to make: Many of my past speaking gigs are the result of being approached by someone else. And don’t get me wrong—that’s a testament to the power of networking and hard work and even a little to serendipity. There’s nothing wrong with being “out there” and having the work come to you. It’s great, in fact. But the time has come when I need to push myself again, and that means doing things like putting together conference panel pitches and such.

There’s a part of me that loves this. It stretches my brain, it forces me to focus and challenges me to do critical thinking. There’s a world of difference between “I’d be happy to come speak if you can use me” and “I think there’s really an opportunity here to explain this particular issue to that particular audience and I am exactly the right person to do it for you because of these skills I have.” Obviously.

There’s also a part of me that hates this. “I’m a writer, not a speaker,” it whines, petulant. “There are a hundred different people who could cover this just as well as or better than me,” it sometimes adds, for good measure. My brain is kind of whiny, it turns out.

I go back to the old mantra about anything worth doing being worth doing well. And I remind myself that back in my early freelancing days, even pitching my writing to folks made me feel a little bit like throwing up. And really, each new challenge is kind of fun. So, yeah. I’m going to get back to figuring out how I can be most indispensable to everyone who needs a speaker, now.