When I started my writing business a few years go, I was, frankly, terrified.
I knew how to write.
The business stuff? Not much of a clue.
I needed a shield, a brand I could stand behind (and hide). An identity to project personality, maybe even confidence, when mine was shaky (basically all the time in my first year of business).
So, Pigeon came to be.
What’s in a name?
People ask me all the time, why Pigeon? The name came about through the usual creative process: free-wheeling meetings with my designer, a weird dream and a tipsy conversation at an art gallery about birds.
So, Pigeon.
I loved it. The word, the bird, the associations.
Pigeons are quirky, which I endorse. They’re a little gritty, like my beloved hometown. And pigeons are message carriers, a tie-in to the communications work that (I hoped) would be my living. Plus, it lent itself to a too-cute tagline: Stories with pluck.
But now, after a few great years and a whole lot of learning, it’s time for Pigeon to fly the coop.
I gotta be me.
It’s time to launch my new brand. To step out from behind my fledgling logo and identity and be more direct and real in my work.
Sure, I’m a little sad to retire him (yep, Pidgey’s a guy). He’s my entrepreneurial spirit animal, a monochrome mascot.
I should say that Pigeon isn’t getting a full dispatch. I’ll keep www.pigeoncreative.ca as a place for personal projects, like arts writing, little films and that book I keep threatening to write.
But the business? The copywriting, the brand-storytelling strategy, the writing coaching, and consulting: all that’s coming with me.
It’s a debutante ball of one, minus the corsage: I’m coming out from behind Pigeon to just be myself.
One-Woman Show
When I first launched, my website and marketing copy was a sea of “WE.”
“We’re expert storytellers,” it said. “We’re a creative agency.”
Truth is, the “we” was royal: it was just me.
The “we” was fake-it-till-ya-make it. Or so I thought.
Back then, I was on my own by default. Now it’s by design. I’m a solo-preneur, and that’s how I like it. I bring on support staff as needed. I collaborate constantly. But I have no desire to grow my business only to become a manager. That’d just take me further from the writing I love, and the clients I get to work with one-on-one. No thanks.
My plan is, instead, to take everything I’ve learned in the last few years about writing, stories and profitable creativity and doubling down on what I like to do and what works.
Write on.
When I started out, I billed myself (well, more like the hopefully fictitious ourselves), as “A creative communications agency.”
To be honest, I’m not sure exactly what that means. I value creativity, so that word got thrown in the soup. It was a hedge, a big tent for any and all projects that might come my way. It was vague on purpose.
Now, I’m getting super-specific and straightforward: I’m a writer.
That’s the thing I know how to do. Whether it’s a magazine article or a blog post, I make stories. I help people write and tell stories about their lives and work. Sometimes I do it for them. Sometimes, I help them do it themselves.
There’s beauty in simplicity and calm in clarity.
