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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
Posts Tagged ‘story telling’
Early Monday morning: I was catching up on Sunday’s email, mainlining coffee, yelling at my son to get out of bed. When I opened an email from Paulina Callaghan from the Toronto chapter of the International Association of Business Communicators, expecting a routine event reminder.
“I am delighted to inform you that you have won the Tell Us Your IABC Story contest!” the email proclaimed.
I danced. Without music. My dog Cocoa joined in.
Then I set out to tell my friends, clients and suitors. Phone, email, tweet, blog, Facebook… So many ways to share.
But first, I decided I should finish reading the email. From experience, I know I can get into trouble by not reading the entire email.
Horrors! To allow time to inform the other contestants, Paulina explained, “kindly refrain from sharing this news until 5PM tomorrow.”
Thank goodness, I stayed off the computer Sunday, a rare occurrence, because I had cousins visiting from Calgary. I would not have been able to last that long. As it was, 10 hours seemed like 10 weeks.
I’m terrible with holding back good news. Both times I was pregnant, I was on the phone as soon as the test stick turned blue. New jobs and exciting projects, hot dates and proposals, graduate school–you name it. I burst with good news.
So how could I keep my mouth shut? Keep busy. But not busy enough.
My first close call was a reply on Twitter to Donna Papacosta, thanking her for including one of my posts in her daily roundup. I told her to watch for news from me this evening. I justified that on the basis that PR pros know all about teasers.
By the time my son was stirring, so he wouldn’t miss afternoon drama class, I got an email from contest rival and new friend Timothy White, reminding me of our deal that the winner would pay for lunch. Since the emails had obviously gone out, maybe a little tweet wouldn’t hurt. No, I didn’t want to incur the wrath of IABC.
No more emails either, because they’re too easy to forward to one our large IABC clan. But I did call a friend, who’s not a member, to spill, hoping the dam wouldn’t burst.
To play it safe, I went to the gym. Sweaty and exhausted, I backed out of my parking spot, very slowly, my van gently nudging the rear of the car opposite me that had decided to back out after me. The man screamed at me, pointing to a small scratch. Witnesses rushed forward to defend me.
I arrived home rattled, only to receive a direct message from somebody who rarely tweets about people saying nasty things about me. Her account must have been hacked. Hope they don’t promise my followers nude photos, like last time this happened.
These dramas speeded up time.
At 5:03, I sent out my newsletter. Three hours later, after helping my friend Peggy flash her jewellery designs on Pinterest, I’m ready to publish and tweet.
But first, my award-winning story.
“Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.”
After I jumped from university to corporate communication, I understood how Dorothy felt when she woke up in Oz.
But then I started going to IABC meetings at Stop 33, the top floor of Sutton Place with the panoramic view of the majestic office towers and sprawling lake. Seated around the glittering tables with shiny people, I felt like I had arrived.
Better still, these power suits got me. They sympathized with my confusion over how to handle approvals, especially that policy wonk bent on sucking the soul out of my precious words. They told horror stories about micro-managing white male bosses. We moaned about deadlines. We laughed at the intrigues of office politics.
Through the speakers, I began to learn how to handle reporters, write a sound bite, prepare a communication plan and many other subjects then not found on any curriculum.
I remember Bobbie Resnick, now an IABC Fellow, making announcements. I can still hear the clapping for the monthly award winners, often Gary Schlee, ABC, who went on to lead college communication programs. They were my rock stars.
Thanks to IABC, I learned what they hadn’t taught me in school. What’s more, I could relax and enjoy the splendours of Oz. I started to feel at home in the work world.
Those people who drive you crazy with big words and long emails are not my reading my book, Write Like You Talk Only Better. If they were, it would be on all the best-seller lists.
I expect many are not motivated enough to read a book that will smooth the writing process, from routine emails to complex business plans, let alone to practice with the worksheets. But some of the employers I’ve talked to would like that to change now that engagement and collaboration have become serious issues beyond the communication department. That’s why I call my new e-learning program Writing is Serious Business.
To collaborate, their people need to pull out ideas and express them clearly. To engage, they need their writing to bring them closer to people. To look smart, they need to stop making the common mistakes that spell check does not catch. To improve productivity, they need to write faster and tighter.
The 14 five-minute segments each continue with an assignment based on what they’re writing that day. This way, busy people can fit learning into their schedule and immediately understand how it applies.
To track their progress, they are encouraged to run their writing through standard reading ease tests and evaluate their improvement against specific benchmarks. Every time they complete an assignment or show improvement, they can award themselves an iWrite star.
Here’s what Writing is Serious Business entails:
Think first
Who’s talking to who?
What about?
Write like you talk
Hook your reader
Big finish
Just write
Write better
Memorable
Concise
Look smart
The two common flubs
Professional, consistent
Stand out
Tell your story
More Hollywood techniques
More media
Keep improving
After learners have consumed the bite-sized pieces, they can return to the segments they’d like to review. Or they can practice with the worksheets that go with the book.
Some of this could change, for the better, as I’m testing the program with two organizations before the big launch. I’m also working with adult educator Lee Weisser, previously with the Canadian Society for Training and Development.
For more feedback, I’ll post the introduction here soon. Stay tuned.
We keep reading about how effective traditional storytelling can be in content marketing. Yet, many attempts don’t get the promised results because they’re more chronology, fancy-dress curation or sales clap trap than story.
To help you better understand how to make your stories work, let’s look at some of the techniques employed in four examples: Kony 2012, the killing of Osama bin Laden, television crime dramas like Law and Order and Jon Morrow’s popular post, On Dying, Mothers and the Fighting for Your Ideas.
Despite their differences, they all:
- Star people the audience can strongly relate and react to
- Drive the plot with conflict
- Make a clear point
Good versus evil
What prompted more than 100 million excited views on Kony 2012? After a sermon on the clout of individual viewers through social media, director Jason Russell’s son Gavin hooked pretty much everyone.
Before viewers would strongly identify with the child victims, who are kidnapped and turned into soldiers and sex slaves, they needed to open their hearts to this adorable white American boy, who is just like our own children or friends’ children, possibly even a little cuter.
After we were introduced to a victim, Jacob. Because Jason stressed how much victim Jacob was like Gavin, audience members could not dismiss him as another African poster child.
While previous media coverage had focused on the Lord’s Resistance Army, Jason personified the evil through Joseph Kony. His image was relentlessly repeated and accompanied by the simple plea for action: Stop Kony. Bam!
Jason accomplished what Big Media could not, because he connected us to the atrocities, gave us victims we cared about and united us against a single, sinister villain. To be fair, of course, the journalists were reporting, not storytelling, though the line often blurs.
People just like us
When U.S. President Barack Obama told the story of the slaying of Osama bin Laden, he knew we already hated the villain.
So he focused first on audience identification, devoting most of his announcement to how the American people are still mourning the loss of loved ones in 9/11 or living in fear of another attack. The twists and turns of radar evasion, a helicopter crash, whispered meetings and tense faces in the situation room could wait.
The story continues to unfold, and likely will at least until the election, with more revelations about betrayals by trusted servants and wives. Hollywood could not tell it better, though no doubt it will try.
While content marketers don’t have blockbusters like this, they can pump up their stories by opening at the turning point and focusing on one hero and one villain. For longer campaigns, they can extend the narrative with plots that continue to roll, much like a spy novel or an ongoing soap opera.
Open with murder
Like the U.S. President’s announcement, the first scene of Law and Order and similar crime dramas is always the murder, the central conflict that will drive the rest of the story. We are engaged immediately by the horror, with just enough character development thrown in to make us care about the person who died and the grieving famly and friends
The Law and Order formula may work better for content marketers who lack the emotional pull of terrorists and their prey and have to grab the audience quickly.
In the absence of a compelling event, you may lose the people who grew up on fast-paced movies, television and video games. Lacking the patience to stick around, they may need to be hooked immediately and repeatedly reeled in.
Solve a problem
Instead of a murder, though, lead with a dire problem or conflict that sets up the point you want to make.
Jon Morrow’s poignant tale begins with the doctor delivering the bad news to his mother about his fatal disease.
Although there are villains, like the bureaucrats who don’t want him in a regular class or the people who won’t listen to his ideas, the spotlight is on Jon’s feisty, loving mother. When the villains aren’t rotten to the core, there’s more need to champion the hero.
Pitch your point
Watching his mother go to bat for him inspires Jon to fight for his ideas and become one of the most popular bloggers on the planet. His point, which he set up in his title and built through his story, can’t be missed. Neither can the fact that it relates to you.
Your point is to get people to respect you, sign up for your course or do something else. That’s the same as Jason Russell wanting us to stop Kony, Barack Obama defining his place in history, Law and Order gluing us to the tube and Jon Morrow inspiring you to take risks.
While you may not have as gripping a tale, you can develop a quick plot about a problem you solved, a pain you relieved or a life you touched. These stories probably involve people your audience can identify with, love or hate. What’s more, you have a point, your call to action.
As a corporate storyteller, I often found that people were reluctant to air their problems or get personal. But life is messy and profoundly emotional.
You have to tell stories with characters your audience will relate and react to, conflicts that will drive the plot and a point that will encourage the action you desire. Only then can you live happily ever after.
All too often my colleagues insist that the new generation of corporate communicators is too hooked on Facebook to write well. From the smart, eager students I met at my guest lecture at Centennial College yesterday, I think the future is in good hands — or whatever they’ll write with in the future.
These students already have degrees, but are taking an extra year of training to prepare for the work world. Like me when I was studying for a master’s in journalism after I realized the limits of a philosophy degree and cocktail waitressing.
I advised them to unlearn academic style writing, especially those long word counts, and to avoid the common flubs that make them look like they have spinach in their teeth.
We also talked about storytelling, applying techniques from Kony2012, television crime shows and friends who cut to the nail-biting goal or their kid’s meltdown when you ask them what’s new.
Thanks for the photo, Charline Tetiyevsky.
Storytelling is hot, but too many people start at the beginning, leave out the messy parts and fail to tap into the magic. Try this instead.
If you’d like to learn the secret to pulling ideas out of your head and onto the page, read my book, Write Like You Talk–Only Better, now available on Amazon and here. Learn more or check out the first chapters. An e-version for Kindle and other digital readers will be available very soon.
A quick read at just over 100 pages, the book outlines how to start building community by thinking deeply about the person you most want to connect with, writing a concise and precise summary of what you want to say to them and picking the best structure to deliver your message.
Then comes the fun, writing like you talk, pretending you’re having a conversation with that special person. By going back to your first and favorite way to communicate, talking, writing becomes easy and social.
After that, you’ll learn how to tighten your content to respect busy readers and stay focused on what you want them to remember. You’ll check for the five common grammar flubs that still matter.
To reach the next level, you’ll learn to tell stories and apply other advanced techniques from music, movies and other media.
The learning can continue as you practice and keep improving with the worksheets and checklists. All for $20 or less, tax included.
The breath mint or candy cane
If you don’t need the book, you might want to consider giving it as a reading treat to colleagues whose rambling emails, cold reports or mistake-filled content make you crazy. It’s like passing around the mints instead offending someone you care about who’s unaware that their breath stinks.
In addition to making enough money to feed my two teenagers, I want to make the world a better place, where people understand each other and are better equipped to reach their potential through clear and compelling writing. That’s my Christmas wish.
I have never been a private person, partly in rebellion against my parents’ insistence on presenting perfect family portraits, a reflection of the times. Yet, when I decided to go public about my history of addiction, I worried the reaction would be shock and awe. It was more like bored and ignored.
Most people would nod politely, then steer the conversation back to themselves. So I decided it was safe to go further, with a post about how stories change lives, as I’d learned listening to thousands at 12-step meetings.
I wanted to share this evidence of the profound power of storytelling, which we knew long before the neuroscientists. Also, I was tired of pretending the ginger ale in my glass was scotch, to prevent well-meaning people from pushing booze on me.
I’m on the side of people like author Susan Cheever, who argue that the insistence on anonymity is keeping us recovered alcoholics in the closet of shame, much as it did with gays. The anonymity of Alcoholics Anonymous was essential when it started in 1935 and for people newer to recovery today.
But the blanket rule is a reflection of times past. Besides, I am proud of what I have overcome and become.
With my misspent youth so far behind me, I don’t have much to hide. Of course I zealously guard my bank password and other information people could use to rip me off. I’d prefer people didn’t know my age and weight, but when it slips out, most people are nice enough to say I look younger and it must be mostly muscle.
I don’t offer a lot of personal information on my online profiles, where I’m warned that evil forces will attack. I prefer to reveal on whim, like my attempt to be funny about my too-frequent need to pee, inspired by the hilarious shit-free diarrhea scene in the movie Bridesmaids.
We keep hearing that people won’t get hired if they share too much on Facebook. But as I discovered when my daughter got a part-time job with a large retail chain, recruiters don’t rule out everyone who is tagged in photos with a beer bottle or a bong. There wouldn’t be enough candidates left.
I think our privacy commissioner and other government officials overreact. They should focus on keeping private what needs to be guarded, not information that I have chosen to share on Facebook or other public forums.
I’ve been reading Public Parts by Jeff Jarvis, where he discusses how the right to privacy is a relatively recent social construct, not a divine right. By going public about his prostate cancer, even though it meant disclosing problems with peeing and sex, he was able to connect with many other people going through the same things. And it made him human.
Because I’m not famous, I don’t worry about the tales, some true but many false, that were discussed in the recent British investigation into the Murdoch newspapers’ phone hacking. Because I’m not a blogging celeb, I’m not concerned about twisted allegations, like those I’ve seen in the David Navarro-Naomi Dunford drama.
Although I despise this prying and exploitation, they’re the tradeoff for a mostly free press and internet.
Public disclosure helps keep corporations honest, deters pedophiles and puts looters in jail. Photos of me dancing on tables or throwing up might have encouraged me to clean up earlier. Still, I’m relieved there are no ghosts hauting me on Facebook. But what I choose to share with you today is fair game.
As long as there are restrictions to curb deceit and hate, as there always have been with free speech, the benefits outweigh the occasional embarrassment. I’m comfortable with the parts I choose to make public. And I respect your right to keep some private.
But with the proliferation of cameras, from cell phones to security systems, we all have to live peacefully with our paparazzi.
Fortunately, I’m comfortable with my public parts. Are you?
If you want to open minds and move people with your stories, borrow some of the time-tested techniques from TV crime shows. Guest post at OneDegree.ca
In your office, people spend lots of time and money on initiatives to boost productivity, satisfaction and engagement. Unfortunately, they’re too busy to see the three elephants who are blocking their path.
But these elephants–Confused, Too Much Time and Stay Away–could once again destroy the village and crops.
This happened in 2008, when Confused made highly educated people pretend to understand “collateralized debt obligations” and “credit default swaps,” triggering the financial collapse. The recovery was delayed, because Too Much Time gave the politicians stimulus legislation that took too long to read. By showing more concern for the big bad banks than the grocery-buying voters, Stay Away pissed off the people, driving many to the Occupy protests or the Tea Party movement.
Think about what could happen with the current European crisis, even if we pretend everyone speaks English. What if one nations writes “I except your proposal” instead of “I accept?” What if the communiques take so long to read that an agreement is never signed? Or what if the hot Greeks and Italians feel alienated by the cold tone of the Germans and French?
Blame the elephants. If they keep growing, the disasters will multiply, not only in the corridors of power, but in your office too.
By following orders only from Spellcheck, Confused leaves employees wondering every time they read about “it’s results.” The IT department’s? Or maybe “It is results” is the hot new slogan they’re supposed to know?
Too Much Time, who is already wasting many hours every day with emails that don’t get to the point, is growing fatter off SharePoint, Twitter and social tools.
Despite all the emphasis on “friends” and “like,” Stay Away is waxing on about “authority endorsements,” extending “best regards” and spraying other gross stuff out of her trunk to keep people at a safe distance.
Everyone seems too preoccupied with new apps to notice how fat and mighty these elephants are growing. But before anyone else gets hurts, they need to learn a lesson from Busy Bee Inc, where one of the drones was smooshed by the weight of email messages from Too Much Time.
Something had to be done to tame the beasts, Queen Bee decided.
She focused on training Confused to think and stop blocking the path to understanding. She put Too Much Time on a diet that hinged on careful portion control. She became an elephant whisperer, appealing to Stay Away in a friendly tone with words that mean something to her.
She averted another smooshing. Better still, the elephants are eating out of her hand. Busy Bee’s productivity, satisfaction and engagement scores have soared. Business is hiving, I mean thriving.
Another happy ending made possible by people writing precisely, concisely and nicely. Will your office’s story end happily too?
Guest post on e-junkie today.