Post-launch content schedules

June 30, 2010


Oh, man, the brain trust at Blend gave me the keys to the blog wagon and here I go posting about content strategy stuff again.

Chances are, most of the content strategy stuff that used to be here will now be over there, but don’t worry – I’m vain enough to link to it from the ol’ personal blog. Over. And. Over. Again.

Anyway, I’m over there with this nugget. From “On Post-Launch Content Schedules: or, Who’s Taking Care of the House?”:

In the Web industry, we build Web sites. But we might as well be building houses. Except, instead of populating homes with people, we’re filling them with information, application and entertainment. Words and pictures need a home on the Internet, and Web sites are the three-bedroom, two-bath ranch home they’re looking for.

Web companies exhibit pride of ownership, too. As long as we hold the deed to our site, we’re keeping up with routine upkeep. It’s easy for us – after all, the construction was all handled in-house, for the most part, so we understand the corners and rafters and concrete better than anyone else.

Then, we hand the site off.

We’ve prepared it for sale. The site is at its peak – top notch, totally updated, ready to move in. The paperwork is signed, the Realtor has been paid – we’ve reached the finish line, you’d think.

Nope. The launch of a Web site isn’t the finish line. New content will move in. Updating will happen. Upkeep will be needed.

Are you ready to handle it?

CLICK THROUGH FOR MORE! (Do it. Now.)

Tags: Career, Content Strategy, Grandpa Boyer |

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I’ve (almost) arrived

May 11, 2010


So let’s just say this is probably a decade or more in the making.

It started with a bunch of crappy basic HTML sites for hardcore bands and fake wrestling leagues and it turned into a blog before blogs became “blogs” and, now, after I had convinced myself that I was supposed to be a teacher, and after I spent a few years managing a call center, and after I finally understood that I should be either writing or working on the Web (and the writing opportunity came first) here I am.

Here I am.

(More specifically, here I will be in four weeks.)

I’ve spent four years writing ads and marketing. And I wouldn’t trade a minute of it. I’ve learned a lot. I’ve learned how to talk to clients. I’ve learned how to break out of my shell. I’ve learned how to embrace the knowledge that people can offer. I’ve learned to be humble.

And, to be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if I still had something to learn in the next three weeks, as I graciously make my exit: about humility and closure and saying goodbye to something I might never had said goodbye to if things had worked out a little differently.

But I move. From one industry to another. To learn new languages. To sermonize about content and architecture. To serve the role I’m probably already hardwired to serve.

More than that, I move to a culture I’ve always admired. One that can develop a project like 48 Hour Magazine. That can still get excited about progress, understanding that everything changes, always, constantly. That continues to mix sardonic wit with soul-bearing clarity.

I’d call it a testament to positive thinking if I believed in all of that zen crap, but, really, it’s a testament to persistence, my ego unwilling to allow progress to move forward without grasping a part of it. I’ve always wanted to be a part of the Web, and, success willing, I’m now in a position where I can help a bunch of Web people make a bunch of awesome Web things.

It’s in my blood, I guess.

Granted, there are a lot of people that I respect that have had it in their blood for even longer, and (justifiably) view me as a punk who doesn’t know what he’s in for. I’m okay with that. More than anything, I hope I can prove myself.

I guess what I’m trying to say is this:

“Hey, Internet. I’ve been pretending for a while. And I’ve been a big fan for a long time.

But I’m one of you, now.

Be gentle.”

Tags: Career, Content Strategy, Technology, Vilhauer, Writing |

3 Comments

On fanatics: or, cutting the long tail of company history and focusing on the customer

April 12, 2010


When you cross the line from general to specific, you also cross the line from tolerant to expectant.

In other words, you’ll be given a pass if you’re talking in generals and leave something out. The second you cross into expert territory, though, you’re running with the big wolves, except these big wolves have specialized nomenclature and a list of best practices and several generations of expert knowledge at their disposal, and they’d love nothing more than to regale you with the details.

It’s scary. You’re immediate inclination is to stand down and allow the experts to control the message.

I’m saying is you don’t have to. Not if you position things correctly.

A Personal Definition of “Work Fanaticism”

First, an aside.

Firefighters love fire trucks.

They adore them. Truck posters are given the same treatment as pin-up models. Long-winded discussions about truck detail and options develop the same intensity as those about politics or sports. Throw a new fire truck in the middle of a group of fire fighters, and you’ll have people snapping pictures.

Taking pictures? Of some random fire truck? Yeah.

This is the mindset of the work fanatic: someone who spends so much time with one subject that it becomes an extension of his or her personal life.

Photographers obsess about their equipment. Web developers constantly think about browsers and computers and code. Fire fighters have both a vested interest and a full-out crush on the newest and best in fire equipment.

The further you get into a more pointed skill, the closer you get to work fanaticism. Whether a product of increased knowledge or of a feeling of expertise, work fanatics do all they can to own a subject,

They’re more sensitive to misconceptions. They’re more critical of mistakes. And they’re watching you like a hawk.

Do you see where we’re going here?

Expert Witnesses

All of this adds up to one thing: there’s a fine line between providing clarity and falling into fanaticism.

Not every marketing manager is an expert on a specific skill. But the position dictates expertise on one specific concept: namely, the history, brand and bottom line of the company.

I’ve found, in general, there are two mindsets when it comes to communicating this expertise.
1. The company is here to serve the goals of our customers, so here’s how we do it.
2. The company IS the goal of the customer, so here’s why we rule.

You can read this another way:
1. Marketing the Way It’s Supposed To Be.
2. Work Fanaticism.

Every person who makes decisions about a company’s communications efforts falls somewhere between these two mindsets. As writers and content wranglers, it’s our goal to straddle this line.

Our foremost goal is one of simplicity: providing Mark Q. Customer information as to why this company is worth paying attention to. On the other hand, we often run smack into the wall of Company Legend, where the WHY is lost in the fog of OUR HISTORY.

And despite our pleas we still have to make allowances for these points.

Oh. Good. Another “Content Strategy” Post.

Well, we’re in luck. There’s one way to handle this: A STRATEGY. Simply tie each piece of information to an actual need.

We’re not talking a full content audit – we’re not talking Web content strategy at all, really. We’re saying simply that each part of a brochure or Web site or television script or whatever should be justified.

Remember the company’s goals for communication. Tie every story, every paragraph, every page, every feature and every archaic company culture term to those goals.

If the goal is to promote product lines and pricing, there’s little need to go in depth with the company’s history. If the goal is to raise funds, you’re excused from providing a detailed list of past board members. If the message doesn’t support the goal, why waste time with it?

Why go through the trouble? Easy. When you lay everything out on the table and show what’s pertinent and what’s unneeded in supporting the client’s goals, you leave little wiggle room for the client to come back and say, “Well, that’s just what we usually do.”

That’s the coolest thing about strategizing content: there is no “what we usually do” anymore.

It may be a fight. It may never happen. But one thing’s for sure: you’ll get people talking about the importance of a clear message, unencumbered by weighty history and aged party lines.

And then, just like that, you’ll have extinguished the first layer of work fanaticism.

Congrats. You’ve just made reaching your client’s goals a lot easier.

Tags: Advertising and Marketing, Content Strategy, Writing |

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Web sites need scripts, too

April 7, 2010


It’s old (well, SIX MONTHS old, which is, like, a BILLION YEARS in Web time) but I stumbled across a great quote from the illustrious Karen McGrane that sort of sums up why I’m so goofy excited about the idea of words – and other content – getting some real mainstream attention on the Web (and why I’m so surprised it hasn’t happened sooner).

“We’ve spent the last 5-10 years on the web just figuring out how to build a printing press….great…now, look at any other great media property and what goes into making that great media property. The same thing has to happen online.”

-Karen McGrane, speaking at Atlanta Showcase, September 2009

And upon reading that, I remembered my own thought – something that came to light in MY OWN HEAD. It’s one thing to say “let’s do this, because it’s obvious you guys,” but, let’s face it, there are still a lot of people – people in a position of budget allocation – who don’t get why we need to worry about Web words and content.

In other words, when put into a position where we’re forced to explain the importance of content strategy to a Web client who just doesn’t “get it,” we need to develop real world examples and comparisons that resonate with a traditional marketing mindset.

Because these people probably aren’t Web people. They’re marketing people. They’ve taken a class, you know, and they’ve been raised on television and print and direct mail and why do they need a Web content strategy when all the words they could possibly require are already on this brochure that their niece designed seven years ago.

Put it in their terms.

Compare it to television.

Every Web site is like a major television commercial shoot. There’s a director who drives production – the programmer – and there’s a videographer who can make everything look beautiful – the designer. And on equal level, there’s the writer who penned the script and set the initial mood.

This script writer? That’s your content strategy team.

Would you spend $100,000 – or even $1,000! – on a television commercial, but skip the script?

Of course not.

So why do it with a Web site?

And suddenly, things begin getting a little clearer.

—

(McGrane quote via Leen Jones, who is also illustrious when it comes to that content strategy biz-ness.)

Tags: Career, Content Strategy, Technology, Words, Writing |

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Usability (and Opening Day) break

April 5, 2010


One of the most frustrating aspects of the Argus Leader’s Web site – and let’s be fair: this is probably not an Argus thing as much as it’s a Gannett thing – is the issue of page navigation.

Exhibit 1: Underlines = Links

As you can see, the page I’m currently on (page 1) is underlined. One problem: common usage has led to the understanding that underlined text is a link. When you see underlined words – especially in the midst of other non-underlined words – you say to yourself, “HEY THAT IS A LINK. AND I KNOW THIS BECAUSE IT’S UNDERLINED.”

Here, though, it’s the opposite. The actual link – as in, the thing you click to get to page 2 – IS NOT UNDERLINED.

This is confusing in two ways. ONE: I don’t know where to click, and that makes me an angry clicker. TWO: When I land on this page and see the navigation, I assume I’m on page two. BUT I’M NOT, I’M ON PAGE ONE.

Exhibit 2: Completely Different

Of course, that’s not all. The page navigation of the comments section? COMPLETELY DIFFERENT.

In fact, this is how the main pages should be navigated. Current page in bold, linkable pages in a different color. Nothing is underlined, no assumptions are made, everyone wins.

So, in short: Underlined = links, especially in linkable fields. Make the page number bold, if you need to. Keep navigation consistent. Don’t be dumb.

This is simple stuff, you guys.

And, with that complaint out of the way, I’d suggest reading Matt Zimmer’s Opening Day Twins preview at the Argus Leader Web site.

Hooray for Opening Day, people. Hooray.

Tags: Baseball, Content Strategy, Journalism, Television |

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Information architecture in real life

March 31, 2010


All it takes is a serious dive into the concept of information architecture – or, for those who aren’t mired in the seemingly over-technical terms used in Web development, the organization and structure of information – to see it everywhere you turn.

It’s in the music I’ve compulsively organized on iTunes, in the lists I periodically release on the world, in the books I’ve threatened to arrange by Dewey decimal system. It’s in the way I create a hierarchy for my to-do lists and in how I take notes.

High Fidelity becomes not so much a film about an independent record store as much as a manifesto in music architecture, with its lists and classifications and rankings creating a structured view of what makes good music (and where you’d find that good music). A trip to the grocery store becomes a test in correct pathways, a real-life walk through the hierarchy not unlike the food section of Amazon.com or Williams-Sonoma.com.

Last night, while searching for a graham cracker pie crust, I found that some grocery stores have a long way to go in this regard. Following convention, I searched the baking aisle. Not finding it there, I searched the frozen pie crust section. Then, the cracker aisle. Only after asking a clerk did I find the crust.

Next to the Mexican food.

Naturally.

If this grocery store had been a Web site, this flaw would have been a crucial failure of IA. His excuse: “Well, it’s next to the pie filling.”

My internal response: “Well, then the pie filling is in the wrong place, too.”

I walked out, convinced that I could have organized the store better – and convinced that I was a few steps from jumping into the deep-end of geekery.

Tags: Content Strategy, Technology, Words |

2 Comments

A BMOWP declaration: Make Awesome Content Your Goal Day

March 24, 2010


Resolution: BMOWP 03-2010
Declaring This Day and Every Day: “Make Awesome Content Your Goal Day.”

Whereas: our Web sites are no longer cluttered with clanky weasel words and business-ese, instead replaced with real language that real customers might use in real situations. You know, because those customers want to talk to a person, not a damned search engine.

Whereas: our blogs begin dealing in insight and entertainment, rather than bullet pointed lists of what we did last night. Funny, profound or filled with poop jokes: the only requirement is that it appeals to someone other than our mothers.

Whereas: we only post video if it’s edited, we only provide data when it’s relevant, we only post music if it’s awesome, we only recommend books that will hold up years from now, and we understand that our recommendations are worth more than anything we could ever write, so we’d better not lead people astray because they will take notice and stop taking stock in our opinions.

Whereas: we use Twitter as an outlet for short-form creativity and worthwhile findings, using its advantages to OUR advantage, refraining from talking about the traffic and the weather and Lost and instead providing a blistering 140-character manifesto that says “FOR FUCK’S SAKE EVEN THOUGH IT’S ONLY TWITTER WE STILL TAKE OUR MESSAGES SERIOUSLY.”

Whereas: we give a reason for someone to read that e-mail we’re about to send.

Whereas: we stop for a second and consider how many words flow through our lives and, of those words, how many stick, and how important those words must be; whereas we pledge to provide the world with a slice of real emotion, thereby forcing a sudden swell of humanity into a communications system that has become so clogged with noise that we can barely distinguish the great from the good.

Whereas: everything we write – from a sexy escort service text message to a post-it note – is written in a way that gives back to the reader; whereas every word is a “thank you” to those people, who’ve graciously taken the time to read those words.

Whereas: we create things that make others jealous and driven to do better, which in turn leads them to create things that make us jealous and driven to do better.

Whereas: our content really matters; whereas it is really worthwhile; whereas we go forward without wasting our time.

Whereas: the curating of great ideas takes back the spotlight it once garnered, and creativity is rewarded with the attention of the world.

NOW, THEREFORE, the editorial WE at THE INTERNET WEBLOG Black Marks on Wood Pulp do hereby proclaim: This is Make Awesome Content Your Goal Day.

Dated this day, March 24, 2010. And every day.

So let’s make the promise to each other. And then, let’s try our damndest to live up to it.

Tags: Content Strategy, Writing |

7 Comments

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