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Archives for May 2010
The Chicken’s Guide to Writing a Better Blog Post
Posted on May 13, 2010 Written by
There’s the short answer:
Fill in the empty parts until they aren’t empty, then hit “Publish.”
Then there’s the long answer. The process involves a number of steps you’ve considered, but you need the discipline to imprint it into your workflow. (oh… and this isn’t just for blogs, either.)
Lay the Egg
Every good blog post is an exercise in giving birth. You take a germ of an idea, something with your specific DNA, and you nurture it to completion.
Conversely, hatching someone else’s eggs makes you look weak in comparison, as you’re just promulgating someone else’s heritage. Be yourself, speak from your experiences and ideas.
Fit the Nest to the Egg
…not the egg to the nest.
- A good blog post should be roughly 400-600 words.
- You should only board with a single carry-on bag.
- Your car should ideally weigh 1,823 pounds.
- Your third child should have its arms and legs removed, to get you to 2.4 children.
Each one sounds progressively more absurd, but they all come from the same fallacy: an artificially-imposed restriction. There is no optimal length for your post, because only you can decide when you’ve exhausted the material to the level of detail you require. Yes, your 2,400 word novella can indeed bore a reader into submission, but you can just as easily bore them in 400.
Size doesn’t matter. Pixels are cheap, and you aren’t bound by the restrictions of print publications or rigid television time constraints. Say what you need to say, and let your passion expand to fill the prose.
Paint the Egg
If you’re giving the reader a lot of information, respect the way they navigate the page. Break up the post with visual elements that act as mileposts, so as they scroll down the page they can see the progress they’re making.
- Bullets work for this
- So do images
- Pull quotes are great
- Subheads are even better, because they communicate a structure
Look at an egg. Now spin it around in your hand. If it looks the same at every angle, how do you know when you’ve completed a full revolution?
Think about how you read. If you are scrolling through a page that is nothing but text, you can get lost. But if you know where you are with relation to that image on the screen, it’s easy to recover from a distraction and get back into the piece.
Don’t count on your sidebar to play that role. Readers tune out sidebars completely when they engage with your essay. Your visual signpost needs to be within that 600-pixel-wide content box.
When you preview what you’ve written, scroll through it. If you ever encounter a section that doesn’t contain an element for visual cues, then add something. Preferably something of value.
Paint the egg, add a decal… something that tells us we’re moving.
Hatch an Experience
People respond well to narratives, because story gives context while fact shivers naked in the cold.
Want to know what the original subheads of this piece were?
- Hatch the Egg
- Let it Breathe
- Break it Up
- Tell a Story
- Tie Loose Ends
- Start at the End
Those were very functional headings, but they didn’t drive a narrative. Once I went through my “Polishing Pass” (see below), I saw an opportunity to weave the chicken and egg theme throughout this post. It came to me as an after-thought, like many good ideas do. (And voila, I also now have a story to include in this post, which is already meta beyond hope.)
If there isn’t a real opportunity to insert a story, at least write the way you talk. When you write for academics or search engines, you end up meeting their expectations.
Dry and formulaic are no way to go through life, son.
Tidy the Shell Fragments
You are going back and previewing, aren’t you?
This is different than the typical proofreading pass for spelling and grammar. (And based on what I see published, too many of you believe spell-check will fix your there/they’re and lose/loose problems.)
This is the time to read for theme and tone.
- Did you maintain a consistent voice?
- Is your tone uniform?
- Did you bring your reader to a satisfying conclusion?
I like a lot of the first instincts I have about what I write. But on the “polishing pass,” I look for opportunities to bring the post to a new level. Sometimes I’ll have a great beginning and ending, but missed a chance to extend the overall analogy to the middle points. You might have a post that starts with “X” but ends in “Y,” when really it is more interesting to bring things full-circle. Maybe start with “X” and end on “X-prime.”
Comedians refer to those hooks as “tie-backs.” The punchline you deliver early on can re-emerge during a crescendo conclusion with an altered meaning. It builds layers into your communication, and in the case of the comedian reminds the audience of something they thought was funny a while ago. Successful comics weave several tie-backs into the final minute, so the audience walks away remembering the highlights of the performance. Which leads us to…
Which Comes First…
…the chicken or the Egg?
Start with your End, or at least fake it.
Whether you are doing a speech, a Powerpoint presentation, a blog post or a story, you need to leave your audience with a takeaway. Have in mind the one thing you want them to remember, and strive to make that point.
Sometimes it takes you 2,000 words to make the case and share the evidence.
Sometimes it takes but a sentence.
But leave them with a single takeaway. If you have to, go back and tweak the introduction to properly set up the piece and foreshadow the takeaway. Then rewrite the title to describe the benefit, not state it.
Dear chicken, it’s not about you. It’s about the egg. Serve the egg, and you’ll be asked to produce more.
Embrace Your Inner Future Has-Been
Posted on May 12, 2010 Written by
When you see a picture of me, that’s not a beard. Part of it is an adolescent reaction.
For years, I had been forbidden by my employer to grow facial hair. It would look dirty on television (and admittedly, it takes me forever to grow.)
So when I left news, I grew a goatee. Then a full beard. But it was not just pure spite. I wanted to send a message that I wasn’t the teevee guy anymore. I look like that guy, but that’s not me. It’s a visual separation.
Facing the Past
I think I had been out of television for all of three months when I had an encounter in the grocery store. You know how you can zig-zag through the aisles, and someone else can zag-zig, so you keep running into them going the other way?
This woman was giving me the evil eye with each pass. I kept jogging my memory, trying to recall where I might have seen her. Did I do a story about her? Did I do a Crimestoppers report that sent her kid to jail? I had no idea.
I skipped a couple of aisles to get out of the way and continued shopping. After circling back to the aisles I missed, I pulled into line at the register. Just as I started setting my items on the conveyor belt, I felt a series of sharp pokes to the back of my shoulder.
It was Stink-Eye Lady.
“I know you…” she began.
“You used to be somebody!”
Face Forward
Most of the people I tell that story to think I was somehow insulted by that. I really wasn’t. I just laughed it off with her, and explained to her I wasn’t in the news business anymore.
As I write this, I am 2,308 days removed from working in news. I have not wanted to be back for a single one of those days. Yet I still run into people who swear they saw me on television just the other night.
I’m glad I didn’t invest so much identity into what I did, because when that goes away you’re rudderless.
And as much as I like to joke about my “Personal Brand,” that’s not “me” either. I’m more complicated than that, and bring more value than an icon.
Every so often, you need to embrace your inner has-been. Figure out which pieces of you are you, and which pieces are garments you can shed. Talking about what you do in a dead past-tense is a fine exercise in putting your accomplishments where they belong: in the past. Clinging to accomplishments like they are still active is a sign that you’re not quite ready to let go – that you’re not quite ready to take a leap and become something new.
Tap yourself on the shoulder if you need to, and don’t worry if it’s uncomfortable. Most things designed to get your attention aren’t comfortable, either.
Open Letter to New Journalism Graduates
Posted on May 11, 2010 Written by
Matt Lindner
I ran across this note on an online forum, and asked for permission to republish it. Matt Lindner is a TV reporter between jobs, and might just be between careers. He didn’t get into the business until after I had gotten out, but already he has a grasp of the challenges facing those who stay in – and those who seek greener pastures with more stable business models.
If you like it, let him know. He seems like a smart kid.
Dear Aspiring TV Newscasters,
My name is Matt Lindner and I am a recovering local newsie. For years, the events of whatever small town I was living and working in at the time were the air I breathed, all I could talk about, my joie de vivre for lack of a better term. As of 2010, my career in local news is (for now) over with.
Years ago, I sat where you did, dreaming of an exciting, glamorous life that involved chasing down the bad guys and telling stories where the masses would hang on to every word breathlessly. I — like you — thought I knew everything about everything, that I was going to come in and change the way things were done on the local level. I didn’t and quite frankly neither do you. So without further ado, here are the lessons I’ve learned through trial and error. The lessons I wish my college professors were more forthcoming about, that you — as an aspiring local news professional — need to know in order to survive in today’s world.
- 95% of what you learned in the classrom does not matter. The first thing you learn on your first day in the business is that it doesn’t matter how many college awards you won, what your GPA was, or how many professors told you you’re the next Cronkite, in reality you don’t know jack. Deadlines are tighter, viewers are more critical, news directors and producers alike aren’t afraid to dress your down in front of the entire newsroom. Nobody cares about where you went to school or that killer package you turned on the dying cancer patient while you were there. What they do care about is if you can turn a package and two VOSOTs in time for the five and if you can’t, there’d better be a damn good reason why you didn’t. College provides you with a fantastic fundamental base on how to dot your I’s and cross your T’s. Your first small market job will teach you how to be a journalist. Which brings me to my next point…
- You ain’t gonna start in New York, kid. There’s about 200 applicants for every single on-air television news opening — and that includes spots in the tiniest of markets like Alpena, MI or Grand Junction, CO. Never heard of those towns? Locate them on a map because unless you’re well connected, you’re going to be starting off there covering county board meetings and farmers markets. Bieng a small town local news reporter forces you to become a great writer because you’re making things that on the surface, you don’t care about newsworthy, writing so that the average person at home is willing to put the remote down and listen to what you have to say.
- If you want to get rich, pick another major. That’s just a cold hard reality of the business. Even today, some local news outfits are paying their on air talent less than 20,000, or right around the national minimum wage. Why’s that? Supply and demand, baby. As stated above, for every person who lands an on-air gig, there’s hundreds more who are willing to do that particular job for even less money than the incumbent is making. It happens. TV news is a desirable career because many see it as being glamorous and a ticket to stardom which is why so many people want to do it.
- Have a backup plan. The average teevee news career lasts about five years these days, and once those people are done they move on to something else, be it public relations, law school, real estate, etc. I don’t speak for all ex-newsies, but if I could do it all over again, I would’ve double majored or at least done a couple internships in something different just to have that experience on my resume. TV news is an interesting career, but the reason it has such a high burnout rate is because so many people tire of the instability and lack of pay. While this may be your life’s dream now, make sure you have a backup plan just in case several years down the line you want to have the stable life that a career outside of television offers.
- The news takes no breaks. Be prepared to spend your nights, weekends and holidays at your place of employment. While you may have grown up spending weekends watching football with your dad and Christmas morning opening presents with your little brother, those family traditions will eventually take a backseat to your job. As a rookie, you’ll find yourself working the shifts that most people dread. Your days off might be Monday-Tuesday or Wednesday-Thursday and you may find yourself spending Thanksgiving morning interviewing homeless people who are just grateful to have a meal. The fact of the matter is it’s part of the job and if people weren’t watching, you wouldn’t be doing it.
- Keep your mouth shut and your eyes open. There’s nothing a local news director hates more than some rookie who complains about having to shoot and edit their own video. In the current day and age, you’re likely going to have to be your own photographer at your first 2+ jobs. It’s going to involve a whole lot of frustration and stress. Newsflash — nobody you work with cares because they’re all in the same boat. If you stay humble and take criticism to heart, you’re going to last in this business. If you’re a hothead who lashes out at their colleagues, you won’t last til your 90 day review. You don’t know everything, you’re not as good as you think you are so shut up and do your damn job.
- Listen to the veterans. They’ve seen almost every conceivable situation. If somebody comes to you with a critique of one of your stories, be flattered by it because it means that they care enough about you to take the time out to offer you advice. They’ve made all the mistakes that you’re going to make and they don’t want you to repeat them. By that same token, they know how to bounce back from a poorly written pack or a live shot that you stumble through which is why they’re taking the time out to tell you how you screwed up and how you can fix it. Don’t take what they say personally rather learn from what they have to say.
- Enjoy the ride for what it’s worth. The friends you make in your first couple TV jobs will be the ones that stand up in your wedding. Everyone’s in the same boat living in the middle of nowhere and making next to nothing. Enjoy the happy hours, going away parties, and the camaraderie because once it’s all over with you’ll find yourself longing for that sense of community. You’ll also find that you’ve got the best stories to tell in any bar you should find yourself in because you lived the dream, you did what 99.98% of the country wishes they could have done with their lives.
I wouldn’t trade the career I had for anything. I’m not the richest person you’ll ever meet in terms of money; but in terms of life experience, I’ve seen more than I ever could have dreamed of. I — like you someday — have no regrets about the way things have turned out. So if this rant wasn’t enough to turn you off of a career in television news, pursue it with all you’ve got and don’t look back because while your bank account may regret it, you never will.
To those of you who made my career possible, thank you for investing your time and efforts into this crazy excursion.
(And to any news directors out there who might have an opening for a newsie who has learned all of the above, feel free to shoot me an email…)
Flashes of Confusion
Posted on May 10, 2010 Written by
There’s a billboard we’re seeing a lot of in central Alabama, and it jars me a little every time I see it.
Not because of what is there, but because my mind’s eye sees something that is not there.
Wait a couple of seconds, then look at the black box. Then you’ll see it.
There.
It was only up for a second or so.
What did it say again?
Drugs are bad, m’kay?
The billboard is part of a much larger campaign by district attorneys across the state, called Zero Meth. Meth-amphetamine abuse is rising here (as in many other places) because it’s cheap, and the manufacturers of the drug have figured out how to do it in less expensive and more portable ways.
The goal of the billboards is to drive awareness, and traffic to the website. On the site, you will find resources, information and links for those who struggle with addiction or the consequences. It’s not a very social site, and I am not sure the layout is all that friendly for either humans or search engines… but that’s not the point.
When the logo flashed into your retina, what did you see?
I don’t know about you, but I saw the word Aerosmith.
Every time I see that logo, that’s what pops into my mind.
Over the weekend, I saw one again, and this time asked my wife what she saw.
“Aerosmith.”
She doesn’t like Aerosmith, and might recognize only one or two songs. Maybe. I don’t know if I’ve even played an Aerosmith song in her presence (though I have been known to subject her to Rush.)
It doesn’t even resemble the Aerosmith typeface or logo in any way. It’s just the placement of the letters, the E-R-O and the M- -T-H… and the slant of that “Z” matching the lean of the Aerosmith “A.”
Simple and subtle cues that can take your attention away from the intended message, which is that drugs are bad. (The modern incarnation of Aerosmith would agree that drugs are bad, even if they made their reputation on some very good ones.) The effect is intensified with outdoor advertising, because drivers often don’t get more than a passing glance at a billboard.
The Fix?
Communicators need to remember that it’s not what you meant to say, but what was heard that matters.
I’m sure this logo scored quite well with the people who were vetting it. It’s edgy, it’s grungy-looking, and it has threatening colors that contrast well. I don’t think it translates very well to black-and-white, but that’s not as big a deal for an issue campaign as it would be for a permanent brand where the legibility of monochrome logos on stationery and business cards is a big deal.
Honestly, all it would have taken is a variant and the “Aerosmith” issue wouldn’t have surfaced. Stack the block-letters of “ZERO” on top of the “METH.” Now it doesn’t resemble the name of the band so much.
Did you see Aerosmith in the logo? Even for a moment?
Do you have other examples of poorly-tested logos, or instances where the unintended connotations got in the way?
Hyper-connected, or Stretched Too Thin
Posted on May 7, 2010 Written by
An acquaintance of mine lost a child a few weeks back, and I am just now finding out about it.
That makes me sad. Twice.
Once because of his loss, because it was completely unexpected.
And to a far lesser degree, once because I was so out-of-the-loop I didn’t catch it.
But why am I feeling guilty about it? There’s nothing I could have done, and there’s nothing I could have added in support that his family wasn’t already getting from others, who are even closer to him.
Should I have been paying more attention? [Read more…]
The Flow of the First Mover
Posted on May 6, 2010 Written by
In communications, framing is everything. And when it comes to branding, it is essential.
Want proof?
What’s the longest river in the United States?
It’s the Missouri River, which is about 200 miles longer than the Mississippi.
But wait a moment, are we comparing apples to apples?
Let’s look at the map of the great Mississippi River Basin.
The mighty Mississip’ is shown in the dark blue from its headwaters in Minnesota all the way to the delta and the Gulf Coast.
It’s certainly an impressive river, and has played a key role in the development of trade an commerce in the cities up and down the banks. It cuts a swath of 2,320 miles through the middle of the United States.
Just look at its mighty tributaries, the Ohio flowing from the east and the Missouri from the west.
Here’s the Missouri River, highlighted in orange. It stretches 2,341 miles, which is just 20 miles longer than the Mississippi. Even though it is longer by just a little bit, the Missouri is considered the tributary to the Mississippi.
Yet again, we let our first understandings and preconceived notions cloud our thinking.
The measurement of the orange line stops where it intersects with the Mississippi.
Let’s take a look at how the Missouri River ought to be treated on the maps.
When you take the very top of the Missouri’s tributary system, all the way back to Bower’s Spring (on the Jefferson) in Montana, and stretch it down as a single navigable route all the way to the Gulf, you have gone 3,900 miles.
Now that is a river.
But why is it the Mississippi? Why isn’t the Mississippi considered a tributary of the Missouri River? (Factually speaking, and depending on drought conditions, anywhere from 45-70% of the volume of the Mississippi comes from the Missouri’s watershed!)
And for that matter, why isn’t the Missouri considered part of the Jefferson River?
It all has to do with First Mover Advantage.
Big Mouths Do the Defining
If you want to persuade, you need to be first and loudest in framing the discussion. The words you use (and the words you intentionally avoid) are essential to getting others to view the situation through your lens.
Was there a tragic event that might have been preventable? Always bad, but made better through a lens focused on comparative advantage, or a track record of success.
In the river example, the Big Mouths actually do the defining. The Mississippi River doesn’t start in Mississippi, it ends there. And given the length of time it was considered the boundary of the United States, it’s obvious we knew a lot about the Mississippi long before we had an inkling the Missouri was even longer. That’s why, at least as far as the definitions stand today, the mouth of the Missouri is considered to end where it connects to the Mississippi, instead of the other way around.
Once we knew more about the makeup and length of the Missouri, and the breadth of its watershed, we might have changed a few things. But that takes an awful lot of effort. By that point, there were too many maps to change, too many preconceived notions, and too many catchy ditties about the mighty Mississip. Yes, the Big Mouth at the Delta did all the defining, and defies any logic to change it.
What you have to ask, though, is given a change in the initial condition, would people still think the way they do about the Missouri/Mississippi relationship?
Icy Rocks and Chads
If you think this is not a big deal, let’s look at a couple of other cases where First Mover Advantage played a part.
Remember the furor that erupted over Pluto’s status as a planet? This was brought back into my attention while watching a Stephen Hawking documentary which referred to our sun, and its eight planets.
It will still take me a while to get used to that, even though I know for a fact there are nine planets. (You see, the Earth and its Moon really act more like a dual-planet system than a true planet-satellite, but there’s yet another example of First Mover at work…)
Then there is that whole election thing from November of 2000. While there was a huge confusion in Florida involving ballots and butterflies and chads and who won the state, there was also a consensus notion that George Bush was in the lead and that Al Gore was behind. Hand recounts done long after the fact tend to support the eventual outcome, and I don’t intend to reopen that debate here. But the communications coming from the Bush team in the days after the vote were bolstered by the appearance that he had won, and Gore was painted into a corner of communicating from behind.
Be aware of the Flow of the First Mover, and how important it is to define the terms before someone else does.