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- Hate to Write? 3 Ways to Start Enjoying It
- What to Write When an Employee Dies
- 5 Ways to Get Your Email Read, Remembered and Responded To
- Six Tips for Writing in Easy Reading Season
- 12 Ways to Plug the Email Productivity Drain
- Two Questions to Ask Before You Start Writing
- 6 Ways to Aim Your Arrow for the Heart
- 6 Ways to Become an Idea Machine
- 3 Reasons Why You Need to Improve Your Writing Skills
- Get Personal With Your Holiday Greetings: 3 Tips
Archive for the ‘Media’ Category
Today I posted at IABC/Toronto about how language is heating up with the 2011 Canadian election scandal. Check it out.
I know how Rip Van Winkle felt when he woke up after 20 years to find the world had changed.
Recently I decided to send out a news release to promote my book Write Like You Talk—Only Better. Sure, I had written news releases in the past couple of decades. But, increasingly, they had become marketing hype posted on companies’ web sites, of little interest to reporters.
Different kinds of front pages
When I researched press release distribution sites, I discovered that they have become more about search engine optimization, splattering your links and keywords across the web. Even though I had been thinking about the more traditional approach of actually meeting reporters’ needs, I saw the value in this.
The trouble was there are so many sites. Most claim to offer “free” services, though few actually do. I asked my LinkedIn groups in my field to recommend specific ones. Nobody did, though some favoured the traditional one-to-one journalist approach.
Seeing as Google has its hooks in everywhere, I decided to pay a small fee to Google News, which should be filling up search engines and news services as we speak. I was astounded that Google will write the news, I mean press, release for you for just $20. I know I can do a better job than someone who could make more flipping burgers.
Free stuff
Then I randomly picked a few of the free services, nothing to lose: Briefing Wire, Press King and Newswire Today. I also tried a new service from Ezinearticles.com that I happened to discover when I was posting an article there.
One of the clues that these sites were more for search engines than journalists came from their insistence that titles be capitalized, contrary to the requirements of Canadian Press and many similar news agencies. The Ezinearticle service had a word-length requirement, even though I know from experience that short how-to releases are often welcomed by editors who have awkward spaces to fill. And let’s not forget how tiny those snippets are on the home pages of news sites.
No journalists have called, though I did pick up some incoming links. These sites serve a purpose, but it’s not reaching reporters.
Back to traditional media basics
I’m lucky to have started my career in government, with veteran journalist mentors, teaching me how to attract coverage on the front page of major dailies and television networks. It made my parents so proud to open their morning newspaper and see me quoted as “ministry spokesperson.”
I was flattered when busy reporters would add their byline to part or most of my media release or kit. I laughed when a major daily put my photo on the front page of their business section, instead of the dark-suited bankers I was trying to hype, simply because I was wearing a red suit and they were shooting in colour.
I didn’t pursue media relations because I didn’t enjoy following up with reporters, as the private sector demands. I also lacked the chess-like skills of my colleagues who knew how to leak strategically or brief off the record. I bristled at suggestions I “spin” the news, knowing full well that media relations is about honestly telling your client’s side of the story, not distorting it.
Changed, yet the same
Although the web has changed media relations dramatically, many of the same skills still apply. As the French more elegantly say: “Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose.”
My press release to the online news services was just a warm up. The best results will come from identifying the reporters who might be interested in my book and tailoring a news release that meets their individual needs.
The question is: can I still fit into that red suit?
Thanks for the photo, Roy Prasad.
My teens will look back at Facebook as their defining social media. For me and other baby boomers, it’s the telephone.
Ode to a phone
As a teenager, the phone seemed to be welded to my ear. Our sole telephone, with a round rotary dial, hung on the dining room wall beside the kitchen. Although many families had extensions, my mother found it easier to monitor and control my life with the telephone restricted to this hub. My father refused to pay extra for hard-wired extensions.
Long gone were the days of shared party lines. But we still had no voice mail, call display or conference calls, though the new office phones were so tricky that our fathers needed secretaries to answer and direct the calls.
Other early adopters
With no cameras, games or other distractions, all we could do was talk. We loved to talk, not just teenaged girls but our mothers too.
This social media adoption by the mother demographic was enhanced greatly by the decline in long-distance charges. Even my depression-scarred mother in suburban Ontario could afford to call her sister in rural Manitoba on very special occasions and for super-urgent news, like when my grandmother had a stroke.
For more routine communication, they continued to write letters, the original social medium.
Evening discounts
Unless death were only minutes away, however, they would wait until after 6:00 p.m., when the rates dropped dramatically. Kind of like many cell phone plans today.
What a distance we’ve travelled. With all the innovations in telephony, especially smart phones, you might think that people would talk more on the telephone. Nope.
At work, people send e-mails, even to folks just cubicles away. My teens use their cell phones mostly to text. That is, when they’re not writing/chatting on Facebook.
The telephone might have continued as a talking instrument were it not for the tech innovations that attracted more male users, who seem to prefer games over chats. Worse still were the telemarketers who made us stop answering calls from numbers we didn’t recognize and the automated mazes that made us stop making calls to many businesses.
As the telephones turns into a combination of computer, gaming console and inter-galactic tracking device, we seem to talk less. I don’t text much. But because my daughter’s in Maine this week, and I’m too cheap to pay roaming charges, I may just break down. But I’d prefer a phone call. I long to hear her voice.
Even with people I don’t know that well, I love the telephone. I won’t interview people I’m writing about via email or twitter, though others do, because I want them to come out from behind the online wall and open up.
The downside is that when the phone does ring, I think it must be Hollywood or a hospital. Like when my aunt would call my mother out of the blue, I know there has to be a reason.
More routine writing
Once again, routine communication is written, though in a text, email or other electronic form, and not the letters and cards my mother and her sister exchanged.
People are writing more and more, even those who grew up, or were educated by people who grew up, talking on the phone.
My kids’ Facebook conversations are about as banal–yet dramatic– as my teenaged phone conversations were.
But are they, and the digital people already working, equipped for all this writing involved in our post-telephone talking era? From my experience editing them and the results of some literacy tests, it doesn’t look good.
On the other hand, if they value writing half as much as I loved talking on the phone and my mother and her sister treasured those letters, I know there is hope.
That was the question I kept pondering during the Mesh 2011 conference.
First Emily Bell from the Columbia School of Journalism regaled us about pay walls, apps and other largely futile efforts to control “the disruption.”
Then Ron Deibert from Citizen Lab spooked us with true tales of cyber crime morphing out of control.
Tony Burman described how Al Jazeera goes where other camera aren’t allowed and then gives away its footage. How disruptive.
Mozilla Foundation’s Mark Surman stressed the need to constantly innovate or lose what little control we have.
Gaming expert Gabe Zichermann warned how Killer types go for control by squashing their foes, not just in online games.
Kaz Ehara
As with free speech, most of us accept reasonable limits on our Internet freedom. We know it’s wrong to steal money, identity and some, but not all, secrets.
We know we have to make money to survive. If we have valued free content, visitors will put up with advertising or even enjoy shopping. A few will buy.
Control issues were was also on the lips of many people I spoke to. People from companies still struggling out of the old mindset confided how their bosses refusal to sede more control doomed their best online efforts. Many from internet-savvy companies lamented the difficulty of silencing the trolls.
Sure, we need reasonable controls to avoid the evil extremes. But not too much. Consider the outrage Ron generated over Harper’s omnibus crime bill, which will let law enforcement officials seize records from internet service providers with no judicial oversight.
There emerged no agreement over what needs to be controlled or surrendered to thwart evil or champion freedom. After all, there are no black and white answers, just countless swirling shades of gray.
That’s why we need to keep talking, voices louder as the world spins faster. Not just in tweets, updates and comments.
Thanks, Mesh organizers, for giving us so many platforms, angles and inspirations to do just that.
As much as I enjoyed Elizabeth Gilbert’s best-seller Eat, Pray, Love, I could not relate to her love-trumps-all modus operandi. You see, I’m in my fifties, divorced and way past expecting a man to “complete” me.
As a sandwicher, with kids still at home and needy aging parents, the last thing I need is someone else to take care of. If someone were to show interest, he would have to present a good health seal of approval and chef’s papers or other proof of domestic self-sufficiency. Since no one is asking, as fewer do after 40, this is academic.
It’s not that I’ve given up on love. But ever since the estrogen well began to dry up, I’ve realized that true love is the compassion I try to feel for everyone around me.
Unfortunately, I can stay on this Buddha path only when I’m not dashing off to the washroom. The constant yearning for romantic love has been replaced by the incessant urge to pee.
As long as a woman can reproduce, she is driven by this love-conquers-all belief, shared by Elizabeth as well as the very funny thirty-something women in the movie I saw last weekend Bridesmaids.
I had to go so bad. Even worse than after morning coffees or gym water. But I could not risk missng a funny bit. From the long line for the loo after, I knew I was not alone.
Perhaps the laughter trigger is behind Whoopi Goldberg’s new commercial for Poise. Although I plan to adopt her word ” spritzing,” I cannot relate to her Cleopatra, Statue of Liberty and other impressions.
Neither am I drawn in by the Tena commercials about the fashion model peeling off period costumes like a Russian doll. They should have stuck with the older commercial, where the woman my age at her front door digs frantically for the keys while a fantasizing a washroom drop onto her lawn. Now that’s funny.
That could be me, as could the food-poisoned movie bride-to-be Lillian crouched in the middle of a busy street. You can’t see, but you know she is pooping under the designer gown.
That’s what women want. A story we can relate to. Reaction without yucky details. A good laugh.
Are you listening, companies that are advertising to women?
Not that I’m ready for this kind of protection–yet. Though I could probably unleash more of that compassion I now call true love if my moments of enlightened bliss were not shattered by my subconscious scrambling for the code for my yoga building’s washroom lock.
If you want to intimately connect with people through written words, you need to start with insight into exactly who you are writing for.
To go straight for hearts and minds, avoiding the objective detachment of segments and stakeholders, think of someone you know who is typical of this group or make up a fantasy person. Then ask yourself:
What gets her up in the morning?
What keeps him up at night?
Sure, there are lots more questions you can ask. But if you can figure out the answers to these two, you can get inside the head of this person and like-minded people.
I’ve been pondering these questions as I prepare my talk for the Toronto chapter of the International Association of Business Communicators. Because I’m a communicator and friends with many others, the answers come easily.
Still, I don’t want to miss anything. So I’ve started a discussion on our Linkedin group. I’d love to gain some insight here too.
Here are some of my answers.
As a communicator, what gets me up in the morning?
The thrill of being part of the action. I first felt this one day when I was lugging news releases to the press gallery of our provincial legislature. I still feel that rush when I’m asked for my opinion from big players in business, nonprofits or anywhere that counts.
The satisfaction of helping people. I’ve always felt good about writing things that help people make sense of the world. When I write about an IT project, for example, I know the information is reducing the stress of the employees who will be affected.
Being creative. Working with words, strategizing, coming up with ideas, matching them with images, media. Imagining, risking, testing, refining. I love it.
As a communicator, what keeps me up at night?
Worrying that I won’t get everything done. That it won’t be good enough. That I’ll make a serious mistake. Like those nightmares when I’m writing an exam on a subject I know nothing about. Or I’m presenting in my underwear.
Difficult people. The nasty one who sneaks a dagger into the meeting room. The stupid ones who insist they’re right. Fortunately, these people are way outnumbered by the terrific ones.
Feeling behind the times because I don’t have an iPhone, don’t know how to use Photostop and am not obsessed with Twitter.
Worrying that my book and workshops will fail, that I’ve wasted my time when I should have been hustling potential clients for so-so work.
But enough about me. I’ve shown you mine. Now you show me yours.
What gets you up in the morning?
What keeps you up at night?
While U.S. Thanksgiving may be the kick-off to the Christmas shopping frenzy, I think it should also launch the snail mail holiday card season.
Because of email and social media, you’re likely receiving fewer paper cards, so you appreciate what you receive all the more. Like me, you probably display them as part of your holiday décor. When you look at a particular card, you think about the person who took the time to send it to you.
I don’t pay as much attention to the people who email me a Christmas card, even less if it’s a Merry Christmas update on Facebook or Twitter. The less effort people expend on holiday cheer to me personally, the less time I spend thinking of them.
I’m no Scrooge. That’s just human nature, which you need to consider before you decide how to send your holiday greetings.
Make it personal
A few years ago, motivational speaker Dave Howlett prompted me to go back to mailing cards. He insisted that everyone should send thank you cards every week. Inspired, I bought cards and sent them out for a while.
Life got busy and my enthusiasm flagged. Now I’m down to sending Christmas cards to the folks I should have been thanking throughout the year.
Even better is a card with a personal note, thanking individuals for something they did for you during the year. The note has to be individual, such as thanks for cheering me up when my father got sick or taking the time to help with research for an article.
Your thank you list
At a time of the year devoted to being grateful, you should have an easy time coming up with a list of the people you want to thank. Here in Canada, where Thanksgiving is but a burpy memory, I’m planning to buy mine today, before the best ones are sold out.
Of course the cards must be printed on recycled stock. It’s even better if the proceeds go to help a charity you like. And don’t forget the secular cards for people who won’t appreciate anything about Christmas.
Like me, many of you will be using the holiday season as an excuse to stay in touch with many people you can’t think of a special reason to thank. You’re just glad you met them. That’s where email cards and other mass communication come in handy.
Group communication
I’m an expert at these. Over the years, I have written many Christmas messages from executives to their employees, customers and other important people. So let me share what I’ve learned.
As with individual cards, these messages have to be personal. Because you can’t talk about other individuals, you have to write about your own experiences and emotions, especially those that you expect the people on your list will relate to.
For example, your dog’s fascination with the first flakes of snow, tracking down that sold-out you’re your daughter is expecting from Santa or sinking your teeth into that luscious shortbread.
My point is: be grateful, personal, emotional, visual, sensual and authentic. People will not feel any closer if they think your assistant simply merged a mailing list and mass holiday greetings template.
I sent an earlier draft of this post as a guest submission to Copyblogger. Sonia Simone declined, explaining that most of their readers don’t have snail mail contact lists. What a shame. While new media gives us more choices, it should not displace the old, especially in cases when it works better. Don’t forget that most of us still listen to radio. Besides, it’s so easy to find snail mail addresses online.
Get cracking
Many of you are probably why I’m writing about Christmas cards when it’s still more than a month away. It’s because every year I wish I had started my cards earlier. After all, people are more likely to notice the cards that arrive before the Christmas rush. And I’ll be pleased to have more time in December for all the shopping, decorating, partying and visiting that make the holiday season so special.
It’s too early to know what I’ll write on my blog. I know it will be more personal than my usual advice about writing and communication and my efforts to hype my ebook Write like you talk—only better.
When my kids were young, there was no end to the heart-warming and humorous tales. As teenagers, they’re embarrased if I write much about them, amazing though they are.
My aging parents are more likely to stir the gooey emotions that bubble at Christmas. For 10 years, I’ve tried to make the holiday special, knowing it could be my mother’s last one.
At our Thanksgiving dinner, for the first time, she was unable to lift the wine glass to her mouth. I did it for her–many times. On the front porch after dinner, as she struggled to hold onto her cigarette, I teased her about being tipsy. She laughed.
She doesn’t laugh much any more, so those moments are precious. Almost like those increasingly rare Christmas cards. They will be treasured.
I spent much of my weekend glued to the television, watching the amazing coverage of the G20 summit protests in Toronto. With multiple cameras and reporters zipping between action sites, displayed on split screens, I felt as close to the action as I wanted to be.
City Pulse news (CP24), a feisty neighborhood channel, was backed by its relatively new owner CTV, a large Canadian network. The result was an in-your-face local perspective, partly directed and supported by citizen journalists, backed by big-time resources.
I switched to the competition a few times, but saw mostly CBC anchors safely ensconced in their studio or regular programming on Global. CP24 was the accident I did not want to keep watching, but couldn’t resist.
News as spectacle
Let me admit I’m one of those people who is mesmerized by TV news theater like CNN’s Shock and Awe light show. Thanks goodness, I’m not a soccer fan, or I would have had to toggle between protests and World Cup matches.
As soon as I saw the first scuffle of protesters and police on Friday evening, I was hooked. I worried about my twenty-something nieces, two of the thousands of people planning to peacefully march for worthwhile causes.
When all hell broke loose on Saturday, with those sinister, masked Black Bloc anarchists, I was bounced from Anne and Stephanie in the studio to Farrah, Omar, Craig, Naomi, Lisa, Austin and a huge cast of reporters on the scenes.
Strumming while Toronto burns
Probably the most dramatic was on Saturday evening when one live screen showed a police car blazing, with no cops in sight, while another displayed hundreds of armored police arresting protesters at Queen’s Park. As was suggested later, our provincial capital, the officially sanctioned site for the peaceful protests, had been infiltrated by the bad guys who were trying to deflect attention with their fiery antics.
On Sunday, one of the protests came to within a couple miles of my home. But seeing as they were directed at the temporary detention center, ironically the former filming site for a cop drama, I didn’t worry about the angry hordes coming closer.
The coverage became more about arrests than free speech zest. Commercials and replays replaced much of the live action. So I was relieved to pry myself away from the television, to prepare for my G20 barbecue summit (tag line: make food, not protest).
I don’t want to go into the big questions of good versus bad protesters, police, free speech, the role of the G20 or the ego and wisdom of Prime Minister Stephen Harper. If I started writing about these, I probably would not stop until the Korean summit, where I will not have a ring-side seat.
How social media played
But I would like to add my two cents about social media. No doubt this was the most photographed and videoed summit ever. I saw more cameras than banners raised. Many of the participants were not even protesting. They came to witness and record history. Had it not been for the rain, citizen journalists might have outnumbered police.
Flickr is bursting with amateur photo and video, many better quality than the professional shots.
If the police did, as some of the hundreds arrested insisted, use unnecessarily force, they will be held accountable. Think of how the world would have remembered Black Sunday or Kent State if citizen video-journalism had been alive. Think of the grilling World Cup officials will get with that bad ref call caught on countless cameras.
On the other hand, most of the Twitter coverage was banal. The Twitter feed displayed on CP24 was mostly solid citizens thanking the police for protecting our city. Not much more from the locals I follow on Twitter.
I’m sure many CP24 elves were busy behind the scenes, sifting through and verifying the social media tidal wave, which they selectively featured.
Herd protesters and media
Of course texting, Twitter, Facebook et al were critical means of herding protesters and media to the next action site. But beyond that, I couldn’t see a profound impact.
Then just before I sank into sleep Sunday night, I couldn’t resist one last look. A university student was talking via cell phone to CP24, while the screen displayed a Facebook photo of him shaking hands with the prime minister.
Sammy explained how he’d just come down to take photos, but ended up corralled into what he called “a human box” by police no doubt eager to end the weekend’s mayhem but unwilling or unable to cart more bystanders to the overflowing detention center. His camera and phone were damaged by the heavy rain. Wet, tired and cranky, he just wanted to go home.
Ah ha. The peaceful protesters and the violent anarchists were expected. Sammy and his friends were the new news story.
This morning I was glad to see no one was seriously injured and our city survived mostly intact.
And I’m glad that I got to watch, from the safety of my couch, such a spectacular, yet authentic unfolding of history. Our peaceful city will never see anything like this again. Neither will our media coverage.