Teaching People To Write Requires A Contradictory Approach.

"I have known writers who paid no damned attention whatever to the rules of grammar and rhetoric and somehow made the language behave for them." — Red Smith 

Red Smith was one of the finest sportswriters in history. Not only did he receive the J.G. Taylor Spink Award from the Baseball Writers Association Of America, but he was also the first sportswriter to win the Pulitzer Prize for commentary. Even more notable, he is the Red Smith for whom the Red Smith Award from the Associated Press is named. Ernest Hemingway even immortalized him in a novel.

"And he noticed how the wind was blowing, looked at the portrait, poured another glass of Valpolicela and then started to read the Paris edition of the New York Herald Tribune. 

I ought to take the pills, he thought. But the hell with the pills.

Then he took him just the same and went on reading the New York Herald. He was reading Red Smith, and he liked him very much." — Ernest Hemingway, Across the River and Into the Trees 

But that's not why I quote him in every writing, editing and proofreading class I teach. I quote him because he is right. And I quote him as a reminder to myself to never become a pompous ass about the trade and craft. There are too many writers who do, claiming they know this and that about writing.

Editing And Proofreading Your Work at the University Of Nevada, Las Vegas. 

It's always a challenging prospect — standing in front of varied students who range in age, interest and experience — for a three hours on some random morning or afternoon when the subject of the day is editing and proofreading. (It will be a morning session this Saturday.)

What makes this class especially daunting is that I have one chance to help people become better writers, editors or proofreaders. It's not like Writing For Public Relations at all, with writing assignments (and the rewrites of those assignments) being passed back and forth for ten weeks.

No, this class is a one-time shot, taught only once in the spring and once in the fall (occasionally once in the summer). And while I always present myself in a suit out of respect to those who attend, the class itself remains informal. I invite students to stop me cold, ask me questions on the fly, and otherwise test my respectable but finite knowledge about the written language.

Sometimes it takes awhile to visualize their hypotheticals and every now and again I have to research their questions after class because they stump me on the spot, but otherwise I manage well enough. Even the few times that I didn't think I managed well enough worked out for the best. I love to learn too.

Some of my lessons from previous classes even become part of my future classes. One of my favorite stories includes how I used to use "website" as an example of English being a living language until one student pointed out the Associated Press insisted it be spelled "Web site." So, I changed my class (providing the Associated Press explanation) only to be schooled by a different student when the Associated Press changed its ruling a week prior to my class (and without my knowledge). Figures.

The day someone thinks they've mastered writing is the day they aren't worth reading.

When I was younger, I used to sweat the outlandishly difficult questions or insistent but mostly wrong students. Nowadays, I'm more inclined to laugh about it, regardless of who is proven ignorant.

I attribute that to Smith. He knew better than most: telling someone how to write is futile. You can only show them how to write better. He was not alone in believing it.

Beyond the more obvious industry hacks like David Ogilvy, William Bernbach, Leo Burnett, Shirley Polykoff, I've learned a few things from authors like Ernest Hemingway, Allen Ginsberg, Ray Bradbury, Truman Capote, Norman Mailer, Kurt Vonnegut and Joseph Wambaugh (to name a few). Except for Vonnegut (sort of), none of them believed a formula could make anyone a great writer.

Instead, you have to see writers as people in various stages of aptitude, ranging from the novice who doesn't realize there are "rules" to the experienced "blow hard" who lives for the rules (or is delusional enough to think he/she is better than any rules). Once you do, you guide them from one layer of aptitude to the next until they understand that being a better writer isn't very complicated even if it is contradictory.

You want to write straight, honest prose that can touch a human being. Nothing more or less. 

That's the easy part. The hard part is that there are a thousand different ways to do it. There are a million different things that can get in the way of doing it well, which is why every word, sentence, paragraph, chapter, plot and story needs to be tested against whatever the writer already knows.

You dust off those "rules," filters, and suggestions and then ask an honest question: Would this concept make it better, worse, or about the same? Oversimplified, you might ask: Does starting this sentence with something unconventional like "And" make it better, worse, or about the same.

As long as you have a good reason to do or not do something (and not as a defensive justification or cop out), you can break with standard, style, format or the so-called rules any time you want. Of course, this also assumes you know the rules you want to break and understand what's behind them.

This is probably why people who teach writing sometimes seem like they burn the candle at both ends. We want, or at least I want, to lay out some rules for people to try on and then encourage them to wear those that fit and dismiss those that don't fit. It's how you become a better writer, and you will never stop doing it (ever). Anyone who tells you differently is either too busy trying to imitate or perhaps too busy trying to justify why they can't imitate.

What about you? Do you have any rules, techniques, or tips that you've found useful? I'd love to read them or check them out. Just drop them in the comments Or, if you would rather talk about something else all together, please do. The comment section is an open forum around here.

Thinking Still Beats Searching When You Need Four Gallons.

My wife had a question the other day, but it wasn't her question. The question belonged to my son and he didn't want to ask me. He thought he knew what I would say. He was wrong, but close enough.

The question was a puzzler of sorts. It was a problem from his math teacher. And any student who turns in the answer Tuesday (today) will receive extra credit. The reason my wife asked me wasn't a puzzler. She wanted him to receive the extra credit. (What parent wouldn't? Besides me, I mean.)

Maybe I should clarify that point. I don't want him to receive extra credit. I want him to learn it. And given that he had the whole weekend to figure it out and it was only the Friday before the long Labor Day weekend, there was no rush on my part. 

How can you make four gallons if you only have a three gallon bucket and a five gallon bucket?

I told him to wait until I had finished my part of the shopping list, groceries for the meals I would cook for the week ahead. Even then, I said, expect some help but not the answer. He didn't want that. 

A few minutes later, I looked over at him. He had moved on to another problem. Specifically, he was trying to figure out which route to take as he transported his stolen loot from a bank to an escape vehicle.  Right. He was playing PayDay 2 on the Xbox. 

"Why aren't you working on the problem?" I asked.

"I already spent 20 minutes working on it in class," he said.

"Well, obviously that isn't enough," I suggested. 

"It's all right," he said. "I already looked it up." 

"You did what?"

"I did what you were probably going to tell me to do," he said.

"You did what?" 

"I looked it up. Done."

"You looked it up, where?" 

"Google."

Ah, Google. If there has ever been a company of smart people responsible for the dumbing down of America, it has to be Google. All students have to do is drop in a few key words from their math problems and poof — they can find an answer while unceremoniously learning nothing in the process.

"I didn't tell you to look it up," I said. "I was going to give you a hint."

The reason I wanted to give him a hint was because the puzzler is not the real problem. Although the question suggests you need to measure four gallons of water using a three gallon bucket and a five gallon bucket, the real problem is something else. It's what stops most people after 20 minutes of class.

In order to solve the problem, you really need to establish what X might be. And in this case, X is really whatever it takes to make gallon of water. I wouldn't have told him that, but intended to point him in that direction by asking what stopped him from answering the question. Except, I couldn't anymore. 

Google beat me to it. And today, all across the country, Google is going to beat other teachers and parents too. It's not the company's fault, but it is creating a problem. Sometimes it pays to look something up. Other times, it is much more rewarding to figure it out. Figuring teaches you to think and rethink. 

The most creative (and possibly efficient solutions) aren't online. 

One of my favorite authors of all time never wrote any fiction. His name is Richard Feynman. He was a scientist and winner of a Nobel Prize in physics. The reason he won it is punctuated by his affliction for figuring things out as opposed to looking them up. By thinking, he often debunked popular theories. 

It had been that way all his life. Even when he was 11, Feynman started to think his way around radios. Eventually, he moved on to fixing burglar alarms, amplifiers and other gadgets too. It was in his nature. He seldom looked anything up. Reinventing the wheel, for him, often made the wheel better. 

There are dozens of stories that underscore his point in his books and books about him. He said it over and over and over again. Even when the New York Times wrote an article about his legacy in 1992, it recounted how Murray Gell-Mann described The Feynman Algorithm to solve everything. 

What is the algorithm? It's simple enough. You write down the problem. You think very hard. And then you write down an answer. For many years, this phenomenon called thinking is what set American students apart from students in the rest of the world despite those international tests that suggested otherwise.

Most students, he observed when teaching abroad, are taught to memorize the answers. But he preferred to teach students to think through problems rather than always assuming the experts were right. Not only did that inspire new ways to think about things, but it also gave students the ability to apply what they've learned to a completely new set of paradigms and problems. Right. They get good at it.

There are some days that I'm not sure Feynman would feel American students are set apart anymore. Many of our students have been taught to resist the urge to think nowadays. And they are not alone. 

People ask questions online all the time or turn to key word searches to ask things like "how do I get more traffic to my site?" or "how do I get more Twitter followers?" or "who are the influencers in this field and that field?" as if those people can think better than they. There is nothing wrong with that, but I wonder if any of them know that one set of solutions doesn't fit a different set of problems.

Sure, seeing how other people solve their problems can be useful at times. But almost every communication problem is patently unique. You have to think very hard. Besides, just as I told my son, you have to try thinking in order to become a great thinker. It requires practice, just like anything. 

How about you? What do you think? And by that, I mean about anything? The comments are yours. Let's talk.

Networks Drive Discussions. People Drive Networks.

Everything you think you know about social media today will be obsolete in the next five years. This assumes you are lucky. It's equally likely that everything you know will be upended in the next six months.

This concept of temporal acceptance, perhaps more than any other, is a critical component of any discussion I lead or give about social media. There is a risk in introducing the idea, even if it is the most honest observation someone can make about social media. Most people don't like change.

Instead, most people want to hear about new technologies because the tools tend to drive most discussions. They want to know what these new tools are, how to use them, and if there are any emerging techniques that will give their organization an edge. Those kinds of discussions are useful, sure.

And yet, change has always been the driver of all communication-related fields. We all know it. Marketing, advertising, public relations, and corporate communication have always been in a constant state of change. What social media has done is move them forward at a faster pace, primarily because social media has attached itself to the rapidly accelerating pace of technological advancement as opposed to a singular technology like a radio or television set. This is a space that changes in a blink.

I don't even lump technologies together anymore. I tend to define them as tools (hardware), applications (software), and networks (platforms) with each of these overlaying sectors capable of disrupting the other. In fact, there are so many that no one person can possibly keep track of them all. There are thousands upon thousands of them; ideas that could be the next disruption force in communication.

How do you reconcile this as a communicator today? You don't necessarily have to think about tools.

When people talk about social media, they mostly get it backwards.

When I spoke with the Council Of School Board Association Communicators a few days ago, I anticipated one of the first questions asked in relation to my presentation. How do you, as a communicator, prioritize which technologies to use to reach your audience? They could answer the question themselves. It was easy.

I handed out sticky notes and asked the attendees to write down two of their favorite social media networks, the ones where they spent the most time. Then, while I shared my background, one of the attendees volunteered to sort and stick their responses to the wall in clusters.

There wasn't any surprise, Facebook and Twitter were the most popular. Pinterest was a distant third, but still a noticeably pronounced cluster compared to the rest. There were several dozen others selected by one or two people, ranging from Tumblr and Goodreads to intranets and association forums.

"There is the answer," I said, pointing to the wall. "If I wanted to communicate to this group, then I would prioritize my communication presence much in the same way. Social media is driven by people, not technologies."

Assuming I already had a space to introduce new content and make announcements (blog, website, etc.), my social network assessment priorities would begin with Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest (but not necessarily exclusively). As long as I had a plan and the right assets for each priority network, these are the ones I would tap first (e.g., if I did not have enough visual content, Pinterest would not work).

After establishing planned communication on these networks, I would learn more about the other networks on the radar, even if only one or two people selected them. Each one would be considered based upon their ability to help me effectively communicate about common objectives that the organization and specific audiences share.

Tumblr might make an excellent place for a school board association to reach students. Goodreads might be an excellent network to develop a list of books reviewed by teachers and administrators. A network like Meetup could effectively be used by administrators or unions. There are many more examples in the presentation, specific to school board associations.

Even if only a few members of an audience are already members of these niche networks, the organization may be able attract more people over time. People will mostly be willing to join any network where an organization they know or trust has developed particularly strong assets.

For example, many grandparents joined Facebook not because they liked it but because they wanted to see pictures of their grandchildren. Most people join Kickstarter and other niche networks for the same reason. They are not attracted to the platform as much as the content someone has place there (like a crowd-funding campaign).

The same holds true for all new networks and platforms that are introduced over time. Communication professionals have to assess each potential network on how effectively it can communicate common objectives. Popularity can also be assessed, but mostly as it only relates to sustainability. Networks have to reach some critical mass to survive. Not all of them do.

Building social media into communication plans and measurement. 

Once communicators appreciate that social media does not exist in a vacuum, it becomes significantly more manageable. Rather than break out the entirety of social media into a separate section within a communication plan, each social media asset becomes a contact point along with any traditional communication.

In other words, if a school board association wanted to work with school administrators to establish a stronger academic foundation, social media tools like LinkedIn or Meetup would be included alongside any newsletters or grassroots outreach. Doing so also makes measurement much more effective. Using the principles behind Return On Communication, the measure of success would be based on successfully changing the academic foundation (with a secondary objective that it improves student performance).

How A Little Love For Learning Can Jumpstart A Reader

Summer can be a mixed blessing for most children. While it gives them a little more freedom to play, explore extracurricular activities, and enjoy more free time, it also separates them from their natural love of learning.

The break leaves many of them at a loss after the summer, which is why most teachers set their startup lessons to be either refreshers or benchmarks. They want to know what these children retain over the summer.

Theoretically it works, unless these the children were already slipping in proficiency. Many children are. My daughter is among them.

Despite private school, she ended first grade with an F reading letter level on an A-Z scale, which represents an early reader at the start of first grade (not the end). She landed somewhere in the middle of her peers, which was better than my son did at that age in public school (and he had outperformed most other students there). But it really wasn't good enough.

If we assume that most children drop two reading letters over the summer — because they gravitate to books below their levels, if at at all — then we might also assume students like my daughter would automatically face challenges in second grade. Ergo, even if her new teacher started teaching the class at an H reading level, my daughter would have been critically behind as a student reading at a D level.

You can see the potential problem here, especially because many parents are unfamiliar with the various reading level benchmarks. They simply see their children reading and smile, thinking it's good enough. It's not. My daughter would have been lost after the first few weeks of school.

How parents can develop an accelerated reading program for young students.

Awareness is always the first step. Take some time to become aware of reading level benchmarks and find out where your child finished at the end of the school year. It doesn't matter which benchmarks the school uses — letter, numeric, or Lexille (a.k.a. Lexi). All benchmarks correspond to a grade level.

Some parents just don't know. While I knew my daughter's level this year, we never knew my son's reading level when he was that age. If you don't know, don't panic. Look up the books he or she has read or looked at since the end of the school year. A search with the book title and words "reading level" will usually produce a landing page that corresponds to one or all benchmarks.

Discover books to move them forward. Assume that the books are at their reading level (or a little less) because children (like adults) tend to gravitate toward what they can read easily and not what will improve their reading. Have them read whatever is on hand (or that they have been reading) out loud to demonstrate their strength at that level. You'll immediately get a sense of their proficiency.

Depending on how well the student reads, choose books that are at their level (if they are struggling) and slightly higher. Make sure you double check the approximate level too as all book publishers use different measurements. For example, Penguin Level 2 books are generally first grade books; some "I Can Read" Level 2 books are second grade books; and some Scholastic Level 3 books are second grade books.

Encourage kids to read the books out loud. It doesn't take much time. Between 15 minutes and one half hour of reading time every day is enough to propel them forward. Just remember that from their perspective, natural story breaks make more sense than random page counts or hard time quotas. They'll enjoy reading to a preset goal.

It's also best for parents to pick the books. Sure, children can provide input, but parents need to be aware that young readers pick books based on topics and characters they know. From experience, these better known characters tend to have clunkier writing and thinner story lines. Too many weak stories will cause young readers to become discouraged. So try to pick books with strong stories while paying attention to the language lessons.

Learning words by sight is a tiered process. Any time a student comes across a word that he or she doesn't know, block out everything except the first syllable (or block out everything except the root word) with your fingers. Most of the time, doing so will give them just enough confidence to get it right. And if they struggle, explain any rules that might help: e.g., sometimes "gh" sounds like "f" and sometimes it's silent.

The point is that you always want to help them solve a problem as opposed to reading the words for them (and letting them parrot you). Only when all else fails do you read the word and tell how why they missed it. Then ask them to reread the sentence and pay attention to whether they've mastered the word on the next occurrence. If they haven't, add it to an index card.

Flash card drills help create intangible rewards. Every morning after breakfast and/or after lunch or dinner, my daughter and I now work through flash cards that are mostly made up of missed words. There are only about eight or ten cards to go through one time. (It's important to only go through the pile one time per session to ensure long-term retention.) The only other words I include are instructional words; words that may appear in second grade instructions like "complete," "correct," "length," etc.

If my daughter gets it right with no assistance, we put a mark on the card. When she gets five marks on the card, she keeps the card and rips it up. As she rips these cards up, new ones are added so there are always plenty of cards at various stages of completion.

She thinks of it as an achievement reward and each ripped up card is celebrated. And if she misses a flashcard word in a story, I give her a one-time prompt that she already ripped the word up and we don't want to add it back. She immediately remembers. As an aside, never offer candy or monetary awards because you'll risk teaching them to love the reward and not a love for learning — which I believe is the ultimate goal of any teacher.

When my daughter returns to school this year, she will be well beyond her peers. 

If you read through these accelerated reading steps, then you'll likely be left with one question. Does it work? Within four weeks, my daughter moved from F to K on an A-Z scale. At this pace, she might reach Q by the end of the summer. To put that into perspective, Q is the letter for a fourth grade reader.

A few days ago, I spoke to a group of educators about communication (and I'll be sharing the deck next week). It was during my presentation that I shared one of my observations about education: I have never met a kindergartener who wasn't enthusiastic about school. So if we want to solve the problems with education, then we have to look at what happens between kindergarten and the fourth grade.

I believe reading proficiency is one of the biggest things that happens or, perhaps, doesn't happen. Too many children have not met the reading level required for their grade level. Their parents don't know it.

At yet, reading is the core requirement for every other subject (including math, with its abundant word problems). It seems to me the problem is apparent. Unless the material is easy to read and the problem easily understood, how can they ever hope to understand it or solve it, let alone enjoy it? Exactly.

Literacy is the key to every other subject, along with a love of learning. It needs a little more attention. It needs a little more awareness. It needs more advocates. So how are you spending your summer?

Three Mechanics For Stronger Multidimensional Writing

"The hardest thing in the world is the writing of straight, honest prose about human beings." — Ernest Hemingway 

Hemingway was almost right when he wrote it, but there are harder things a writer can do. He or she can try to write straight, honest prose to human beings while convincing someone else to foot the bill and leave well enough alone. 

But most clients aren't like that. They can't leave it alone.

It's not their fault, exactly. Somewhere along the way the communication industry became so miffed over how they might produce enough persuasive content to fill the infinite blankness of the Internet that they began to confuse "content creators" with "writers." They might share some similarities but they're not exactly interchangeable. 

One of them can burp out three pages of content in an hour for $25 and never lose a minute of sleep when their client insists on capitalizing titles like foreman and manager. The other one finds such style breaches akin to squeaky thumbscrews. The only thing worse has three letters. SEO. 

Sure, some writers have no choice but to acquiesce. It's either that or they'll come up short on the mortgage — something writers a few dozen decades ago wouldn't have cared less about. But that's another story. This story is about something else — it's about the hardest thing in the world.

The hardest thing in the world is teaching someone how to write straight, honest prose to human beings. Some writers insist it can't be done. Maybe they're right and I'm just a masochist. 

The reason most of them are skeptical is easy enough to understand. There is a fundamental difference between being able to write (create content) and being a writer. And generally, most people who call themselves writers can only write (and some of them don't write very well). They only think they can.

It's easy enough to see the difference even if the person can't see it themselves. The former can fill page after page of with one-dimensional prose, anything from a postage stamp-sized tweet to a business card book. The latter, on the other hand, captures a sometimes subconscious process of multidimensional thinking that is equally concerned with the mechanics of writing as much as the art of storytelling. 

What is this space? Most writers can't even articulate it, which is why great writers — people like Hemingway or Allen Ginsberg or William Saroyan — were always more inclined to tell aspiring writers that either you feel it or you don't. And if you don't feel it, they might insist you don't bother. 

I disagree with them a bit. As long as you care enough (and you have to care), you can capture that elusive feeling and learn how to write too. You can be a writer who never sees the job as a boring chore.

The mechanics of multidimensional writing. 

Outside of the storytelling, the mechanics of multidimensional writing primarily can be thought of as three considerations that occur seamlessly and simultaneously — mass, space time, and gravity. The terms weren't chosen by accident. They best describe three of layers I mapped out during a class. 

Great writers are concerned with the mass (format), space time (consistency and speed), and gravity (connectivity) of everything they write at the same time. If you want to be a better writer, you will too. 

Mass. You can size up any writing assignment any way you want, but everyone eventually concludes that there is only a beginning, middle, and end. The genre doesn't even matter. Copywriters create advertisements. Journalists flesh out articles. Fiction writers craft chapters. All three want to capture people's attention up front, tell a story, and finish with a call to action or compulsion to read more.

Space Time. As odd as the term might seem applied to writing, space time fits especially well. Writers are concerned with the flow and consistency (condition of adhering together), the relative pace and speed that the reader takes in the content, and some writing essentials whether mine or something more eloquent. All of these qualities make reading the content worthwhile.

Gravity. While some writers (especially the greats) argue they only answer to themselves, it isn't exactly true. They still have to find a voice (organizational or personal), apply a style with suitable linguistic or industry standards, and consider the audience because we all speak and write differently to our mothers, fathers, wives, friends, colleagues, and children.

If you couldn't see the difference between writing and being a writer before, perhaps you can now. It takes a little more than gathering up a pretty pile of words and putting them in order. Real writers consider everything at once and then run back through every word, sentence, and paragraph afterward. 

You can tell when they don't. You can tell when I don't. But can you tell when you don't? It could be the best question you ask before you hit publish or send something to print. Every little bit of it counts.

Being A Big Fish In A Small Pond Works Until The Drought

Say what you will about statistics that claim people have as many as seven careers in a lifetime. I've seen studies that claim anything from five to 11, and wonder what might skew them.

The most common explanations offered up by researchers and reporters — job hoppers, immigrants, and young people — don't account for everything. The simplest answer is job evolution. A worker might make the move to management, opening up new career opportunities. Another employee might be moved from one department to another as a means of keeping them. An expert in one field might retire.

There are dozens of different reasons, but all of it points to one thing. The metaphor about becoming the biggest fish in the pond is rather pointless. It's a myth perpetrated by motivational coaches, training instructors and academics because they are in the business of selling skill sets that suggest expertise.

Careers don't work like they did in the 1950s. The job market has evolved.

The biggest fish in the smallest pond analogy only worked under the most pretentious and restrictive notion of the American dream that led people out into the suburban sprawl. The general concept was pretty clear cut. You graduated from high school, earned a degree for a career, accepted an entry level job, and then stuck with it until somebody promoted you to management, which eventually led to your retirement with a pension and gold watch. My stepdad had one of those dinosaur jobs, sort of.

After escaping foundry work for the airlines industry during its heyday before deregulation, he worked in telephone reservations before transferring to become a passenger services agent, a job track that lasted 40 years through no less than four or five buyouts and mergers while avoiding management.

Why did he turn avoid management? Managers didn't survive mergers. He preferred job security.

The chances of finding a one-track career job like he did (and being happy if not content doing the same thing like he was) is pretty slim. Most of his friends couldn't do it either. They all moved on.

Even if they could do it, there were no guarantees. Careers vanish all the time. Big fish travel agents, postmen, and meter readers have been watching their ponds shrink for some time. Architects, journalists, and visual artists like photographers and videographers are all struggling in the short term.

You can't always count on job trends either. Health care administration is hot right now, but it's anybody's guess what might happen after the aging population doesn't have a bubble. Government jobs remain hot despite the latest rounds of layoffs caused by tax shortfalls, but its growth is not sustainable. Anything in alternative energy has a ton of buzz, but the field is surprisingly erratic given its diversity.

The communication industry as a whole is in kind of a system shock too. Social media might have been exciting for some people, but it has left several disciplines in a state of confusion. Convergence has left people wondering whether public relations, advertising, marketing, social media, etc. are the best tracks to enter the industry. Most of them are disappointed to hear the truth. Almost none of them, exclusively.

In a world with unpredictable rain, it pays to be an amphibian. 

The modern market requires a different kind of thinking, even if human resources and headhunters have been equally slow to embrace the obvious. There are no degrees that are a waste of time. All of them provide skill sets that overlap, provided the student or working professional can enhance them.

The objective isn't to become a specialist anymore. And I'm not suggesting you become a generalist either. The answer lies somewhere in the middle, where you can weave together adaptive skill sets.

Once you have a foundation, through education or experience, look toward enhancing parallel skill sets as they become obvious. This has been the cornerstone of my career course over nearly three decades and it places me in an interesting position if I call recent events an intermission between acts.

The interwoven disciplines of advertising, business, journalism, and psychology have opened up any number of opportunities. Some only require a nudge if I was inclined to make a course correction.

As a stakeholder in several businesses, I have roles ranging from product development to executive management. As a communicator, I have experience as a strategic planner, creative director, journalist, copywriter, author, and some undeveloped talent in design. As an instructor, I could take a turn toward education and write instructional books. Or, if I wanted to, I could always dial back to pick up two classes for a degree in psychology (which has its own growing niche in business modeling). And there are several other skill sets, ranging from hobbies to oddities, that I won't bore you with.

I'm hardly the only one. Chan Luu managed her clothing boutique before becoming a fashion designer. Paul Gauguin was a stockbroker before becoming an artist. Charles Bukowski worked as a postman. Leonardo daVinci was an artist turned scientist, engineer and inventor. Benjamin Franklin was an author, printer, politician, and scientist (among many other things). Most founding fathers had woven careers.

The truth is that until the 1950s, multiple careers were more common than unusual. You almost have to dial back to the dark ages to find lifelong careers or family trades being prized as a profession. And in America, the concept was exceptionally foreign. Most people left Europe to escape the class system.

In fact, until suburbia entered the picture, few people wanted to be stuck with such a low glass ceiling. And nobody really wanted to make it worse with a dramatically tiered tax system either or mandatory social services based on the assumption that they would never make enough to pay for it. That came later, along with the big fish concept that suggested people find smaller and smaller ponds to feel important.

Make no mistake about it. If you recently graduated, your education has only started. Your goal isn't to become indispensable — the proverbial big fish in a small pond. Your goal is to become adaptable — the fish that can walk to the next closest body of water anytime the pool there feels a bit shallow.

The only way to do it is to create a braided career that includes one or two major areas of practice and several closely related minor skill sets that can become areas of practice on relatively short notice. Along with those skills, it also helps to learn something about the stock market. The 401 (k) is not enough to rely on for retirement like pension plans several decades ago.

Writing Content: What Happens When PR Inherits The News?

When newspapers first began to appear in America, there wasn't much to them. Even in Philadelphia before 1730, there were only two news sheets being published there. One of them mostly published definitions from the dictionaries and nothing else.

When Benjamin Franklin took it over, he did away with all of it. He envisioned something else, and almost none of it had to do with news. Franklin made his newspaper a vehicle for instruction on moral virtues that often masqueraded as satire and mischief. General news was not on anybody's mind.

In fact, American newspapers wouldn't even pay much attention to general news until after 1750. And its use to spur and spurn politics would occur a few decades later, right in time for the American Revolution. And with politics, a tradition for including local items of interest took hold, one that isn't much more than 200 years old.

Where is all the news going and need we be concerned? 

When Bruce Spotleson, group publisher for Greenspun Media and an editor-at-large for the Las Vegas Sun, spoke as a guest in Writing For Public Relations at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, he raised several powerful and poignant points. Much like I wrote last week, he doesn't see print going away.

Niche publications are particularly strong. Special interest content can still find subscribers. But what he does see slipping is the notion that newspapers are important to a community. And this makes me wonder, what then?

After all, they alone publish local items of interest and record. They alone publish in-depth news stories that act as a community spotlight. They alone have the opportunity to make a last stand in favor of objective journalism, at least those that haven't already rolled over into the ranks of affirmation media.

And along with that, as Spotleson pointed out, the public has grown increasingly unaware of local news and community interest. Some of them don't know whether their police department is good or bad, beyond any personal experience or biased opinion. Many of them are too busy too keep up on government accountability beyond their front yards. Most, if pressed, wouldn't even be able to hazard a guess what the leading local headline might be today.

Spotleson knows. He's asked. Even people who are applying for a job, he said, tend to have the same answer. They haven't gotten to it yet. And in all likelihood, they never will get to it. They're too busy.

Unless it's a national headline, breaking news, or entertainment, people tend to skip the middle ground. They know what is happening from their front door to the sidewalk or their self-selected tribe, which means the group of people they pick on social networks.

The rest of it, unless it touches them directly, tends to be a question mark. The issue is compounded in transient communities too. In such communities, people are much more interested in their hometowns than towns where they own a home. And if these trends tend to hold, news will eventually be gone.

Television news won't fare much better. Unless they find a niche, it's all just more noise on the Web.

Public relations isn't free anymore. It's all about paid content. 

In the wake of unsupported community news, all that will be left is a steady stream of public relations perspectives. Take a recent NV Energy story as an example. Although only a few people are aware of the story, the lack of any reporting arm would only leave several dozen biased voices in its wake.

On one side, there is the utility. On the other, the gaming industry. There are dozens more, including government, consumer advocates, and the public (despite their apparent absence). Without a newspaper to organize the issue, the public would either be largely left in the dark or perhaps exploited by public relations, not with malice but with each representative's own preconceptions as the story shows.

And who would win in such a world? My guess would be the one with the better and heavily budgeted communication plan, especially if they have properly leveraged social media. Except that win isn't free.

While public relations as an industry has been clamoring to take over content marketing and social media, it will come with another cost. As outlets for free exposure continue to diminish, companies and special interests will have no choice but to ramp up direct-to-public communication programs so each interest can publish the "news" as it sees fit. Right. They will publish all the news fit paid to print.

While some might guess the result will be similar to the ever-increasing price to enter politics (with state senate races starting as six and seven digits), I'm not even asking whether it will be this good, bad or indifferent. I'm asking something else. Are public relations professionals even ready to get what they wished for and are we, as the public, ready for it too?

Speaking Frankly: Five PR Topics From A Banker

Paul Stowell, senior vice president and marketing manager for City National Bank, will be the first to say he isn't a banker because his public relations experience is malleable to any industry. And yet, there isn't much he doesn't know about the banking industry. He makes it his business to know. 

Like many seasoned public relations and marketing professionals, he rightly believes that it is one of the most important lessons that a communication professional can learn. It's not enough to become an expert in the field of public relations or marketing, professionals have to understand the industry where their organizations operate.

This was one of several tips he shared with a handful of students in my Writing For Public Relations class  at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, last Thursday. And while he gave them many more than five tips, these were among the ones that seemed to stand out the most. 

Five words worth focus for communicators, from a senior vice president in banking.

1. Awareness. Stowell doesn't pull punches. He quickly pointed out that being in the banking industry isn't always easy since 2008. Bankers, as a profession, have a lower likability than lawyers nowadays.

Not all of it is deserved. Politicians and critics frequently demonize and vilify the industry, even when it isn't warranted. Not all banks were part of the subprime mortgage crisis that contributed to the recession, including City National Bank. These banks weren't in the mortgage business and have since emerged from the crisis safer and stronger than ever. 

That doesn't mean City National Bank was exempted from the consequences of a crisis caused by others. As the crisis wore on, investors, customers, and journalists had questions. Stowell stressed that maintaining a conservative approach wasn't enough. The bank had to continually be aware and track public reaction to the industry and communicate how it was different from other banks. 

2. Relationships. One of the most important aspects of public relations and marketing continues to be relationships, even though Stowell sees relationships eroding under the weight of social media. No, he doesn't see social media as evil. On the contrary, he advises anyone who wants to enter any communication field to know it inside and out. 

At the same time, Stowell says that many students sacrifice too much one-on-one quality for the promise of quantity that social media provides. Not all of their personal or presentation skill sets are as strong as they need to be, he said. They tend to sacrifice real relationships too often. 

Stowell says they need a more balanced approach, taking the time to make in-person impacts both internally (with executives who will teach you the industry) and outside of the industry (journalists, customers, and investors) who want to trust the professional they are talking to as much as the organization.

3. Active. With journalists facing more time famine than ever before, public relations practitioners need to consider how to make the journalist's job easier, not harder. In addition to establishing a strong and worthwhile relationship, Stowell suggests that the best news stories aren't passive, but active. 

Companies that do things naturally make news. For example, in his industry, banks that host economic forecast panels and share that information are much more likely to earn media attention. Even if the focus isn't on the bank, journalists appreciate organizations that look beyond themselves. 

The same holds true within the community. Organizations that are involved within the communities in which they operate tend to outperform those that do not — not because of the bottom line but because the bottom line is that it is the right thing to do. For City National Bank, they work diligently ramping up support for education and literary.

4. Contrast. Although implied throughout all of the lessons, Stowell places an emphasis on finding contrast points that immediately identify an organization as different. Financial stability, relationship focus, and customer satisfaction are consistently listed among the top three for City National Bank (which earned it numerous Greenwich Excellence Awards over the years).

The reason is simple enough. If potential customers perceive several organizations as virtually the same in the marketplace, then there isn't a compelling reason to choose one over the other. Stowell says this is one of the reasons that many companies that attempt to follow the leaders or simply do what other companies do eventually fail because the point of contrast people will remember is who did it first.

Considering his point, communicators have a two-fold challenge. They have to identify what the company does consistently different and well and then effectively communicate it. Ergo, you have to walk the walk and talk the talk, not one or the other.

5. Measurement. It almost goes without saying, despite the number of the public relations professionals who seem to refute it. Communication is measurable and it must be measured. 

"When a story runs in the paper one day and the bank receives seven calls to open new business accounts, it's a measurement," says Stowell. "Everything is measurable and you have to measure or you risk being unable to prove the value of public relations to the organization."

The point hit home for many of the students. Many public relations firms attempt to place value on exposure whereas the real measurement is the result of the outcome. Sometimes those outcomes are measured in direct response. Other times they are measured in public or customer sentiment.

Combined, these five topics provide a direct contrast to what many marketing and public relations professionals tend to talk about online. And, if anything, these topics tend to be the conversations that executive management have when making marketing budget decisions. Are you on the same page?

Reinventing The Wheel: How To Think Forward

The expression is so common in communication, software development and some engineering segments that many people recognize it as cliche. And yet, there are those who still love to lean on it.

"Let's not reinvent the wheel."

The concept behind it feels right. The idiomatic metaphor warns people away from duplicating a basic method that has already been created and optimized by others. Thus, a wheel is a wheel is a wheel.

But is a wheel just a wheel? If you take some time to think about it, the real brilliance wasn't the wheel in 3,500 B.C. It was the fixed axle. Right on. It didn't take any talent to conceive the rolling cylinder, which has been reinvented a few thousand times to accommodate different applications. (One of my ancestors, in fact, very literally reinvented the wheel with the introduction of pneumatic tires.)

Anyway, the real scientific advancement was figuring out how to connect a stable stationary platform to the cylinder. Without the axle, the wheel is mostly useless. But I'm not suggesting we turn a more accurate phrase by saying "let's not reinvent the fixed axle." After all, even an axle can be reinvented.

"Let's reinvent everything."

The truth is that had automobile manufacturers took a bigger interest in hovercraft technology, wheels might feel as passé as cassette tapes today (except for specific applications). But automobile manufacturers didn't do it, begging the question: what has not reinventing land transportation cost us?

And this is something that business executives and communicators might start asking themselves more often. What is the cost of not reinventing something? And, if not cost, how about missed opportunities?

When you look at some of the most successful companies in history, almost all of them were in the reinvention business. Steve Jobs reinvented computers and phones. Henry Ford reinvented car manufacturing. Edwin Land reinvented photography. And the list continues, with history tending to remember those who invented or reinvented something over those who borrow against invention.

The same holds true for best practices too. In communication (and social media in particular), there are far too few developing best practices and far too many searching for them. In some cases, it has led to what some people call a follow the leader mentality in social media and communication. I'm not as generous. I call it follow the follower, which is what spawns marketing myths and strands communicators anytime a social network reminds them that best practices are short term.

Best practices are inspiration points, not shortcuts. 

The best communication plans for any organization rely on three concepts: temporal communication, adaptable contrasts, and best practice analysis for process adoption. The latter places a greater emphasis on evaluating best practices for possible adoption, but only after they are reinvented to fit.

It's somewhere in between the Not Invented Here (NIH) culture of some organizations and Not Anything New (NAN) culture of some organizations, with NIH assuming everything ought to be invented and NAN assuming everything that exists today is good enough. The people who subscribe to NIH frequently fool themselves into believing their ideas are new at great cost. And the people who subscribe to NAN were likely trying to find faster horses instead of building automobiles in the 1900s.

But what organizations really need are people who can research all the best practices and either reinvent them to fit or discover what no one else has done before. In the process, it usually results in something unique in its construction or an innovation that can change everything. In many cases, this is how some of the best and brightest companies started. And the same can be said for the best campaigns too.

Reconciling Definitions: PR Is Not A Communication Process

It didn't hit me until I tried to teach it, but the most recent definition of public relations offered by the Public Relations Society of America is wrong. It isn't a little bit wrong. It's a whole lot wrong.

It's wrong because public relations is not a strategic communication process. There is much more to it than that. Even my students crinkled their brows when the full force of comparison was offered for consideration. And then I gave them a working definition I've been crafting  for some time.

Why The PRSA definition feels different from the First World Assembly. 

The public relations definition works to streamline and simplify what eventually becomes a determent. Specifically, it pigeonholes public relations into precisely what many executives criticize it for — public relations is a whole lot of talk as if talk alone creates mutually beneficial relationships. I don't think so.

"Public relations is a strategic communication process that builds mutually beneficial relationships between organizations and their publics." — PRSA, 2012

By taking even a portion of what was decided at the First World Assembly of Public Relations in 1978,  we find something more tangible. Specifically, the First World Assembly model did not rely on communication alone. It hinted at something else practitioners could do — take real action. 

"Public relations is the art and science of analyzing trends, predicting their consequence, counseling organizational leaders, and implementing programs of action which will serve both the organization and public interest." — First World Assembly, 1978

Whether you like this definition or not (there are dozens of definitions out there), what I submit is that it is much more tangible than a communication process. It hints at programs instead of processes. 

In considering the full scope of what I will be teaching this semester, it seems to fit. You can see for yourself by taking a look at the deck. It includes the definition I have been working on, but I want to break that definition into its very own section as a concluding thought. 

Writing For Public Relations, 2013 from Rich Becker, Copywrite, Ink.

As you might have noticed, the definition I have been working on from time to time is included. And whether or not you like the definition, it's the thinking behind it that I submit for consideration. 

"Public relations is the art and science of developing and managing immediate to long-term programs that strengthen the relationships between the organization and various publics; researching trends within the environment where the organization or those publics exist; determining the impact that those trends or other events may have on the organization and those publics; and providing for an open communication exchange that ensures mutually beneficial and measurable outcomes for the organization and those publics." — Richard Becker, 2013 

Yes, I know. I receive "no votes" for making it too long to print on a lapel pen, a travesty given I take pride in writing tight as a copywriter. But then again, this is tight. Even if someone argues I hardly need to keep mentioning "the organization and/or those publics" again and again, it's so incredibly important. 

Why? I'm happy to share with you. I consider it the fun part. 

Public relations is really about taking groups that might consider themselves "us" and "them" and turning the whole thing into a "we" that can get something useful done. The job requires much more than persuasion. It requires much more than manipulation. It's requires much more than lies and spin. 

The most successful public relations campaigns in history have always hinged on whether the organization and publics are willing to work together, and the extent to which they work together. If they don't work together, the campaign fails. If they do work together, the campaign succeeds. 

Years ago, one of the very first public relations campaigns I worked on did exactly that (and we didn't even call it a public relations campaign). The agency I was working with had to develop a plan to manage an open exchange of communication for a program that was in everyone's best interest. 

Specifically, houses would sometimes float away every time Southern Nevada flooded (a trend). So this project (simplified) consisted of seven primary groups, three organizations and four primary publics that wanted to stop houses from floating away during floods. 

It might sound like a no brainer, but there are always consequences when prevailing thought to stop houses from possibly floating away might impact the environment, change property values, disrupt views, cause inconveniences during construction, cost taxpayer money, etc. This is the kind of stuff that can transform a "we" problem into an "us" vs. "them" vs. "them" vs. "them" overnight. 

While I won't go into the specifics of the plan from start to finish today, we can suffice to say that everything we did — from hosting open, two-way communication town halls to recapping everything into a customized residential newsletter — was designed to ensure all seven groups shared a common mission to protect the public from flood waters literally washing their homes away. 

We accomplished this not by jamming the ideas of lead organizations down the throats of residents impacted. We did this by nurturing open communication that had direct impacts and influences on the actual construction of a solution. Public relations didn't talk about it. We effectively transformed how everything would be done and what the flood control detention basins would look like while ensuring that the entire program maintained a "we" against dangerous flood waters vibe. That's public relations.

Communicating Big: The Art Of Nonverbal Power

When colleague Kelli Matthews, instructor at the University of Oregon, shared a recent talk by American social psychologist Amy Cuddy, I was immediately curious and excited to see it. Cuddy's TED talk rubs up against some of my individual work related image development, with mine approaching it from different disciplines. I had seen her study two years ago, but not the talk.

I also thought this would be useful for one of my upcoming classes. Several former students have encouraged me to include a larger spokesperson session as part of Writing For Public Relations. In this case, the topic stems from Cuddy's work in nonverbal communication with Dana Carney and Andy Yap.

The crux of the research is simple enough. They note that humans and other animals express power through open, expansive postures, and they express powerlessness through closed, contractive postures. And then the researchers ask a riveting question. Can posing in these open postures create power?

The power of nonverbal communication is remarkable, even potent. 

What was so fascinating about the study was that it confirmed that posting in high-power nonverbal displays (as opposed to low-power nonverbal displays) would cause neuroendocrine and behavioral changes for both male and female participants. Let me be clear here, because it's especially cool.

What they found was that the high-power poses could elevate testosterone and decrease cortisol, which was accompanied by increased feelings of power and tolerance for risk. Meanwhile, low-power poses exhibited the opposite. Any person, they suggest, could instantly make themselves more powerful by assuming simple one-minute poses.


While I find the subject fascinating, it is not the end of the story for me. While the research is spot on in terms of being interesting, Cuddy overreaches with her anectodal application. Specifically, like many personal branders have suggested, you can fake it until you make it.

Her own story suggests this is possible because she used to "fake it until you make it" in order to feel comfortable teaching at Princeton. In other words, if you pretend to be powerful, you will actually act more powerful (and be more powerful). There is some truth to this, but "faking it" is still flawed.

You don't have to fake it to increase your sense of power.

While the body can shape the mind, just as Cuddy suggests, it's more important to change reality rather the perception. In other words, you don't have to fake it to make it. You can simply make it by putting yourself in related experiences that will help you adopt and learn new leadership skills.

Why is that important? Because in one of the studies conducted by the researchers, they had the mock interviewers convey no emotional response. They had good reasons to do it, but what was missed was that setting might not account for real-life scenarios where one or more of the interviewers may be dominant.

In such scenarios, when people feel uncomfortable because there is no room to capture an "alpha position," they tend to respond using subconscious cues. And what happens? People who are prone to low-power postures surrender and those prone to inappropriate high-power poses can be agitated.

It is much more effective to give people empowering experiences. In fact, this is why so many motivational trainers ask students to climb poles, walk over coals, break boards, or any number of tasks that they have never done (but can do with some instruction). Doing something that one would ordinarily assume is extraordinary creates a mental impression that anything is possible while delivering the same chemical reaction that Cubby mentioned in her speech. And the more you do it, the more you believe it.

In fact, it's not all that different than what I teach interns and students. I encourage them to become involved with at least one nonprofit and one professional association because both types of organizations will open leadership opportunities for them. In addition, it will not only teach them that leadership isn't reliant on dominance like animals, but also emotional intelligence to adapt to a group.

The proverbial wise man on a mountain doesn't need a dominant posture to convey power. His perceptive size is the mountain. Or, if you prefer a different example, search for images of Mahatma Gandhi. Most of them convey low-power and even submissive postures despite his depth of power.

Disregarding Lessons: Last Lectures And Final Essays

Like many people who work in communication last November, I read the last words of Linds Redding, a New Zealand-based art director who worked at BBDO and Saatchi & Saatchi. He died at 52.

Given I was scheduling initial doctors' visits to solve some bodily wonkiness after quietly turning 45 when I first read his essay, his words really sent me reeling. They seemed all too right ... that the creative side of advertising is largely a scam by holding semi-talented "'creative' people hostage ransom to their own self-image, precarious sense of self-worth, and fragile — if occasionally out of control — ego." That is an accurate description of the field, which is why none of it was all that important to him.

As it turns out, it was only advertising. Redding said he didn't do much of anything. 

Thinking of it from his perspective, I thought the same thing. I have a shelf loaded up with glass and acrylic statues that mostly make me feel empty inside. There's about 100; 250 if I count all the paper.

But I won't do what Redding did and steal away the excitement of any kids entering the field. The reason for early recognition and peer review can be important (enough so that the topic probably deserves its own space another time). No, the good and bad of industry awards hasn't changed. I did.

In fact, I've changed so much that by the time the holidays had rolled around I had forgotten Redding's post until Hugh MacLeod picked up on those last words again. They were pointed at by long-time friend Valeria Maltoni, who was also thinking about it. She even shared one of MacLeod's points:

"What is heartbreaking about his story (Bri­tish adver­ti­sing veteran Linds Red­ding who died prematurely of cancer) is it reminds me of something that has always haunted and terrified me since I first entered the working world: the idea of getting to the inevitable end of your life, and in spite of all that talent, passion and energy spent working insane hours for decades, you don’t have a meaningful and lasting body of work to be proud of, money or no money."

I've had that mulling around in my melon since January. Maltoni did too it seems. She recently wondered about her body of work too, some two million words written for her blog. Mostly, the concept revolves around the idea  that our respective body of works must mean something or make a difference to someone.

Mostly, I agreed with them for a few weeks. Except today. Now, I'm a bit miffed by it all.

Does it really matter what industry we work in if we want to make a difference? Do we need to find affirmation that somehow we have a created a meaningful or lasting body of work? Does the butterfly have to know that its wing flap changed the world a million years ago?

Nothing really matters, but every second counts. 

My grandmother wasn't a writer. She never saw her 60th birthday. But she did have a "body of work." She raised five children and, for a good part of my life, one grandchild. She touched other people and their lives too, even if she did spend more than a decade fighting cancer. Her work is as good as any book or blog or body of work that someone might find on Wikipedia. But most people never will.

You see, a funny thing happens to some people when they can see that their life clock is finite. They make a choice to find regret or resolution. My grandmother was the latter kind of person, and I know what she might have told Redding. Your work mattered. Sure, it might have "only pushed some product around," but sometimes you have to think beyond what you can see.

Presumably, his creative work increased sales for a few dozen companies that employed more people, paid for more health care, inspired more dreams, and somehow made life a little more enjoyable. As a result, many of them all raised families, paid taxes, gave to charity, and made a difference Redding never knew. That's advertising. And it's one of the most brutal businesses any creative can aspire to be part of because outside of self-congratulatory awards programs, no one is ever going to know your name.

I'm a little bit more fortunate than Redding in that I've seen outcomes that have left an anonymous legacy beyond advertising for businesses, ranging from thousands of people helped through dozens of nonprofit campaigns to permanent policy changes in local, state, and federal government. But at the same time, I appreciate his point about time agency folks sometimes ask their families to sacrifice.

So, here's my tip about it. It's not the quantity of time or number of eyeballs that will matter, but the efficiency and impact of every second invested. Let me put it another way and make it easier.

Randy Pausch did an amazing thing when he wrote his last lecture. But I suggest taking it a step further. Make everything your last anything and it will matter more than you ever imagined.

That is what I'm going to aspire to do from now on. While I don't know that my upcoming class will be the last time I teach Writing For Public Relations at UNLV, I'm going to treat it like it might be. While I don't know if my next post will be my last, I can treat it like it might be. While I don't know if the next time I play a game with my kids that it will be the last game we play, I can treat it like it might be.

If you put 110 percent into everything you do, from something mundane like brushing your teeth or having a conversation in the checkout line with a stranger to writing an advertisement for a client or giving a lecture to a room with five students to 50 students, then it isn't possible to waste your time. On the contrary, the only time that can be wasted is when you swat something away like a nuisance. Then you might be right. It's a waste of time. But only because you made it a waste before you ever started.

Storytelling: Where Communicators Get Miffed

Since scheduling pushed back one of my creative projects this month, I had this idea to recycle some fictional content as a holdover until I had time to finish up something freshly original. The initial thought seemed smart. The story hadn't appeared since it was part of a juried art exhibit years ago.

It took some time, but I found the story, polished it up, gave it another read, and then decided I hated it. But undeterred, I passed it over to an editor anyway. She wasn't keen on seeing it republished either, which was secretly the affirmation (or perhaps anti-affirmation) that I wanted. Weird, I know.

The story didn't fit with my most recent body of work, and I was very curious why that might be. She offered some suggestions, but none of them felt right until it hit me. The only feeling that lingered after the last sentence was somewhere between nothing and cynicism. Everything recent hits much harder.

Yeah, but what does this have to do with marketing and communication?

It has everything to do with it, which is why I'm starting to believe that everything most advertising, marketing, public relations, and communications teachers taught you was wrong. Almost all of them miss one of the most important ingredients in content, and it's the same one clients most often miss too.

It's not their fault. Rubrics have a stranglehold on education. In the communication field, one of the most popular is the ADIA model — Attention, Interest, Desire, and Action — or any of its variations (CAB, ADICA). It's a fine model, but it just isn't enough.

There is something else at work that writers have to pay attention to. It's the ability to move beyond the call to action and connect with an emotion, which is what creates the illusion that content is a fulfilling conversation. Think of it as an epilogue of sorts that creates an emotional connection (and I don't mean a like, follow, friend, or retweet) that people will later identify with the brand.

This is why tapping into people's imagination is so important. It's also why two perfectly structured advertisements that follow ADIA or some other format are not always equal. One might follow the structure, but it misses this mysterious ingredient. (Heineken's recent viral The Date spot misses it.)

The missing ingredient includes two parts. One is an emotion. The other is fulfillment. While the former can be anything, the latter needs to linger on a universal truth. Even if not everyone agrees, it feels right.

This feeling, that the author reinforced or opened our eyes to something new but patently obvious, is what makes some storytelling work so well. Mickey Gomez really gets it, even if she hasn't analyzed it. Geoff Livingston mostly gets it because it is innate in him. Jennifer Lawson gets it, even when her technical skill sometimes slips. I get it on good days. Most writers really don't get it.

Clients don't get it either, but for a different reason. Most of them are too focused on the experience they feel, and not the consumer. In other words, they look at the content and get excited because they think it represents them. But trust me on this: Consumers don't care how good an ad is supposed to make the brand look.

The one question you should always ask about your content. 

It's not always easy because, just like clients, writers sometimes become consumed by craft. They are either taken by the cleverness of it (as in advertising), the 'sales' pitch (as in public relations), or how pretty the prose is (as in authors). All of that might help, but none of it matters.

Storytellers and content creators have to look at this stuff objectively and then ask themselves what is the feeling a non-stakeholder will be left with at the end of the story. And then they have to consider whether or not that feeling aligns with the brand and creates a connection (ideally one associated with the brand). This is where content marketing and customer experience connect.

Ergo, content is an experience ... but only when it fits. It's the lingering emotion that really counts.

Avoiding Stereotypes: The Color Of Ideology

No one really knows what Martin Luther King, Jr. would have thought had he lived to see the 50th anniversary of the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom (Aug. 28, 1963). On one hand, Americans had not only elected but re-elected the first African-American President. On the other, it has created one of the most divisive socio-economic-political climates since President Abraham Lincoln.

I, for one, would like to think he would stand by the lines delivered in the I Have A Dream speech, holding firm to his conviction that people not be judged except by the content of their character. For although racism has largely been abolished in the hearts and minds of a majority, the propensity of humankind to divide has reached a crescendo on dozens of other fronts, ranging from the values people hold to the rights they are willing to defend as part of the definition of freedom.

Whereas in the era of Martin Luther King, Jr., people were unjustly and commonly segregated by the color of their skin, hate speech and stereotypes have found a new home that often ignores the color of our skin and ravishes us instead for religious views, political leanings, and urban-rural localities. While few people would defend hate speech aimed at racial heritage and cultural identity, it has somehow become accepted to characterize some religions as deserving censor, some political parties as callous, gun owners as redneck bigots, and even whether they take notes on a notepad or laptop. And today, rather than enacting segregation in schools, most of it takes place in news outlets and social networks.

So let's be clear. Stereotypes are ignorant, regardless of righteousness. 

A stereotype is a thought about a specific group of individuals that is used to forward the belief that a single commonality about that group can accurately define all characteristics about that group, usually intended to cause others to emotionally react to the naming of the group with good or bad prejudice.

In the past, it was most commonly associated with heritage. Today, it's most commonly associated with ideology and identity. But what hasn't changed is: they are almost always wrong, especially when they are used to dehumanize people; they are exceptionally damaging, especially if we accept derogatory stereotypes that other people assign us; and they are hardwired into our brains, which means we have to be ever vigilant in dismantling almost all of them.

Some people are surprised anytime it is suggested that we are hardwired to invent stereotypes; the truth to it is scientific. Our brains invent stereotypes in order to make our world less cognitively demanding. It's all tied to cognitive psychology, which was always my favorite sub-discipline of psychology (and one of the most useful for communicators and marketers).

Cognitive psychology delves into how people perceive, remember, think, speak, and solve problems. And one of the mental processes is how we categorize and compartmentalize information. For example, when we learn fire is hot, we categorize it as something that can burn us. Later, when we learn an oven or stovetop can be hot, we might put it into the same category. We need it to survive.

But then something happens sometime between junior high school and high school. Our cognitive processes begin to take on more abstract forms as we begin to define our world based on arduous notions not much better than The Breakfast Club, a film about five high school stereotypes — jock, geek, stoner, outcast, and socialite — who find temporary common ground around being detainees.

Unfortunately, few people ever really evolve from these baseless social roles. They simply trade them in for new ones, making the world easier to understand even if this understanding is flawed. Worse, we sometimes compound the problem by pursuing the characteristics of stereotypes that we want to belong too, making them seem all the more valid, and creating campaigns to prove they are true and desirable.

The evolution of cognitive thinking relies on individual character. 

There is one simple reason that I tend to attract diversity among friends and associates. Much like their heritage, their ideologies mean less to me than how they behave and treat others, especially those they seem ideologically opposed to across any number of socio-economic-political issues.

And for that, I grant them equal tolerance even as we disagree, especially if we can maintain a relationship without having to dress up in a costume and, most assuredly, if we can agree not to censor or subjugate other people's rights, property, and values. It's called respect. It's called refusing to drink from the cup of bitterness and hatred. It's called character, built on trust and understanding that all men and women are created equal without being forced to carry the loadstones of ancestry and stereotype.

That's my dream. And while I could be wrong, I would like to think it was Martin Luther King Jr.'s dream too — that the flaws of one character within a thinly connected group ought not be used as a weapon to vilify each and every perceived associate. This is, after all, America, a place where we are supposed to be uniquely accountable to our own behaviors and actions and deserve to be judged according to our character and not the behaviors or actions that people attempt to assign us.

That said, it is my dream that people think twice before embracing hate speech and stereotypes, carelessly sharing and spreading such messages across their social connections without any thought of the disparagement they might cause others because underneath it all, no matter how we divide people, we really are all brothers and sisters of the human race. And so, in observance of Martin Luther King Jr. day, good night and good luck.