she moves she

“Spry” baby. That’s the word. Was the word. Was the name.

Past tense.

I arrived at 10 South Wacker, pencil-skirt clad and manila-folder laden. Up to the 40th floor to a lobby unmistakably chic with a view you only get if you’re a CEO or Batman. I sat down with two lawyers. One to advise me how to make this publication of mine a legitimate business (LLC please) and the other to draw up a contract for future freelance contributors in order to cut the risk of infringement lawsuits, and figure out this trademark nonsense.

The nonsense: The name “Spry magazine” has been taken. A company called PGA filed for application of the trademark a mere 33 days before I did. And because we’ve both been trying to register the same name at the same time it got stuck in the Trademark Jungle. Legally though, they have the name.

I’m ok with it. I had a couple months to get used to the idea and I see it as a blessing really. A chance to do it again but this time the right way. With contracts and mission statements and a creative director and money! Any ideas for names are welcome but don’t expect to own the rights.

I’ve become something of a Business Woman. And oddly enough…it’s empowering. Being an artist is a great thing. I am firstly a writer and thinker but to thrive…you have to have the business smarts too right? It’s a fact. Money is important and it doesn’t land at your feet or magically appear in your mailbox when your 40. So if it takes me cultivating my high-heeled, pencil-skirt, fax-sending persona in order to write what I want and still be able to take a luxurious vacation, I’m ok with that.