Fortune Favors The Brave. And The Honest.

I tried to make this a video post but I kept crying. We buy this totally sexy new video camera for the expressed purpose of shooting videos like the one you’re not currently watching and we can’t use the damn thing because I keep bursting into tears. Therefore, you just get a blog post and I can sob and sniffle as much as I want and you can’t even tell.

Na na na na na na.

In February of this year, my consulting and freelancing career was doing better than I’d ever hoped was possible. Four months earlier I was able to hire Jamie (if you’re new, that’s my husband) to come and work for IttyBiz. We were drowning in clients and earning about four times the average household income in this country. Things were going well.

I was pregnant and chasing a toddler around a too small apartment that we hadn’t even had the time to move out of, but we were happy. Busy and tired, but happy.

I knew that I was working too much and I knew that I had to slow down and I knew that when the baby came I wouldn’t be able to keep consulting the way I was, but I thought that was something I could deal with when the time came. Running your own business is like that. Feast or famine. Ride the wave for as long as it lasts.

I wasn’t really taking good care of myself, but I was busy. I was earning a living. I was helping to feed my growing family.

Then I got sick. I got hit with a killer flu and couldn’t work for about two weeks. I had a far-too-high fever that just wouldn’t break. Jack was sick, Jamie was sick, I was sick. I was missing deadlines, but I knew there were more deadlines looming on the horizon. I didn’t have a clue how I was going to catch up, even if I wasn’t pregnant and throwing up and recovering from the flu.

And then I lost the baby.

Deadlines that had been missed would never be recovered. Coaching clients I had put off wouldn’t be brought back. The perfect little baby that was going to be the perfect finishing touch to our perfect little family was never going to come into this world.

I felt like it was totally my fault. If I hadn’t worked straight through the weekends, if I’d taken more care of myself, if I’d rested when I knew I needed it, if I’d listened to my husband when he told me I was pushing too hard.

If, if, if.

I was recovering from a miscarriage, recovering from the flu, stressed about deadlines, stressed about how we were going to keep making money, stressed that I’d burned too many bridges, and stressed that I’d brought the whole thing on myself.

Add a panic disorder and some residual post-partum depression left over from when Jack was born and you’ve got a recipe for not a whole lot of work getting done in the Dunford household.

Things got better, obviously. With Jamie’s help, we thought of some ways to make it so our income wasn’t so dependent on my consulting gigs. We pulled through. We mended the bridges I thought I’d burnt. By the middle of summer, we were back to good.

In July, my mother came to visit from England and she looked like hell. She was commuting three hours a day to a job she hated where she was getting bossed around by some young bitch with a power complex. Her body was rebelling against her. The arthritis that had only been a twinge the last time I’d seen her had taken over her hips and her knees. She was covered in rashes from the stress.

My beautiful, strong, vibrant Maman looked old. Tired. Left behind.

We started talking about what she could do to get out of the job, but she was worried about getting clients in a crap economy. We tried to think of ways that she could get around it, things she could do to meet her (frankly very low) financial needs without relying on one source of income that could dry up at any time.

We talked about affiliate marketing, where she could review products that were made for people like her. We talked about setting up some little websites that could bring in a tiny bit of money every month. We talked about maybe having her do some VA work, maybe pick up some graphic design gigs again.

Long story short, I was able to hire my mom as my assistant. But if this business of mine collapses tomorrow, she’s safe in knowing that all her eggs are not in this basket.

She knows she’s going to be OK.

Business kept getting better. Money kept coming in from the little income streams we’d set up. We were able to hire my husband’s best friend, an incredibly hard worker who’s had a tough time finding work since the dot com bust. He’s been working hard co-ordinating the launch of Online Business School and he’s been seeing what we’ve been working on.

Then the other day he called us to ask about e-commerce. He’s thinking of setting up a little store. This diversification thing might not be too bad an idea after all.

This is why I’m doing this.

Online Business School launches tomorrow, and yes, I hope that those of you who can afford it choose to buy it. But whether you buy it or not is in the grand scheme of things pretty unimportant.

This is what’s important.

I never, ever, ever want you to feel like you can’t do it.

I never want you to feel like you’re too old.

I never want you to feel like you’re too stupid.

I never want you to feel like you don’t have enough education.

I never want you to feel like you don’t have enough time.

I never want you to feel like your health’s not good enough.

I never want you to feel like you’ve got too many obligations.

I never want you to feel like you’ve got too many kids.

I never want you to feel like it’s too late to get started.

I never want you to feel like it’s impossible.

I never, ever, ever want you to lose hope.

I dropped out of high school at 17 to give birth to my oldest son. I dropped out of college after less than a semester, living in a homeless shelter with my 2 year old for the better part of a year. I started this IttyBiz with no money and thousands of dollars in debt. And this year IttyBiz is going to make over $200,000.

If this last week in American politics has taught us anything, it’s taught us that anything is possible.

I beg you, please diversify. Please protect your family’s income. Buy OBS, don’t buy OBS, it doesn’t matter. But please take the steps you need to take to protect your loved ones from this horrible economy.

It’s not too hard, I promise you.

I got an email last night that I want to share with you.

How long will the stuff you are sending be posted? (She’s talking about the free lessons I’ve been sending by email.) Because I’m really new to this, and I know I really need it, but here’s the thing. I have two disabled children, who are young adults now, but still require lots of time. I’m taking care of my elderly parents (my dad lives with me) and I work full time.

By the time I sit down at my computer at the end of the night when every one is tucked into bed (forget trying to get to it while everyone is still awake) my brain is fried. I’m starting to panic that it will disappear.

I know, I know, I should have ordered your course; but I just barely knew you and I hadn’t heard your sample lessons which are awesome, so I didn’t really know that you were giving us information that I could actually understand. Because a lot of the stuff I’m reading out there doesn’t make sense to me.

Besides, I was afraid to order your course because I have ordered so many things that I just plain never get around to doing.

I think I can do it, I just need to do it slower than the rest of the world. I know that I need to do something to provide some income, because—well, you know. You put it perfectly in your “why we’re broke” post.

Listening to the first audio really made me think that maybe, just maybe, I can do this crazy internet thing, and make money at it. So, thanks for inspiring me; and please let me know if there is some way I can capture your information to do later.

If you don’t have the money to buy my course, I’ve been there. To all of you who have emailed me privately telling me how much you wish you could afford it, how you’re going to try to find the money from somewhere, I am so, so, so grateful for your loyalty, but PLEASE DON’T BUY IT.

Take the two hundred bucks and put a few extra presents under the tree instead. Then go to Problogger and read the archives. (The 31 Days To Better Blogging Series’ are particularly good.) Take the 30 Day Challenge. Read Entrepreneur’s Journey. That’s how I learned it.

If you don’t have any money, watch my free stuff to get a little bit of income coming in before you start buying anybody’s info products or home study courses or ebooks. (As of today, the link for the free stuff is just the free stuff. By tomorrow it will be a sales page but all the content will be in there. You can go back as often as you want and I’m never going to take it down.)

But please, please remember. As the kind and brave woman who emailed me said so well, you CAN do this crazy internet thing, and make money at it. And next Christmas WILL be different.

By Naomi Dunford