I feel you

To be number one on the New York TIMES bestseller list, to achieve a $100 million opening weekend, to produce the top-rated cable show, to make a video go viral, _________________________ [no one has the answer].

I found clues in screenplay analysis class.

Screenplay analysis was the most challenging writing course I've taken. Each week we watched a new movie and dissected the structure and storytelling techniques such as planting and payoff, changing in place, polarity and more. The midterm terrified me and the final test took more than eight hours to complete (it was open book/open note).

Each of the films we studied during the semester had won major awards and I remember asking why, while many of the writers had written several screenplays, they hadn't won more than one award. The professor said he didn't have an easy answer.

A news story. A screenplay. A novel. A memoir. A documentary. A play. A cable series. 

It took years for me to learn how to tell a story. Then, after completing the master of professional writing degree I took more classes, studying screenwriting until I unraveled what had mystified me since I was a kid -- why does it feel as if no time has passed while watching some movies?

While analytics track and measure the reach and effectiveness of content, the magic comes when the audience is fully immersed in the content. Far from giving up their awareness they are not in a daze, their minds are working hard and quickly to decipher the incredibly complex elements built into well-crafted content.

Everyone who wants to leave 2016 behind -- I feel you.

At the office where I work (and it's a small office), five people have each lost a parent this year. My mom's lung cancer returned. She never smoked but has lived less than a block away from LA's 10 freeway for more than 40 years.

The new year can't come soon enough and here in California it's less than an hour away.

At work the editors have been asked to create professional and personal goals for 2017. We've chosen buddies to help us.

One of my personal goals mirrors the final in a Business of Writing class I took at USC's School of Cinematic Arts. We were asked to create a seven-year pathway to work in the industry. I received an A+ with a written comment, "Well thought through," from the teacher, Frank Wuliger.

Goals aren't much different from New Year's resolutions -- they can easily become as dusty as my Business of Writing final. But with our goals connected to our annual performance appraisals they will happen. Hmm, are performance appraisals equivalent to finals in school?

Irvin Kershner: my harshest critic

"What you do is amazing," Frank Wuliger often told USC students in the School of Cinematic Arts/Business of Writing course. Many of the students would graduate after the semester was finished. Though the classroom was full, drawing on his many years in the industry Mr. Wuliger predicted that fewer than 10 would find full-time work as screenwriters.

Guests during the semester included studio execs, writers, agents, managers, attorneys and Writer's Guild staff. Many spoke about the challenges of content distribution and technology (I remember a discussion about one sentence in an agreement between writers & producers about the then-new DVD technology that would go on to cost writers and agents millions of dollars). And always the question: what technology is coming next?

On more than one occasion after the guests had left, Mr. Wuliger (he told us to call him Frank), often repeated the words, "What you do is amazing. What writers do is amazing," adding that the guests he had invited loved stories and writers. Many of them, while not able be screenwriters themselves, chose their professions because of how much they love stories and respect writers.

Recently during a meeting at work, the discussion turned to populating a news website.

Would doubling posts make the site more popular? What days and/or times of day would result in more clicks? What if the number of new posts was quadrupled? 

We didn't discuss what articles were getting zero clicks, or what may have contributed to the popularity of the current top posts.

On Blogger I know if someone in France is reading a post and which post they're reading, in real time as the person is reading. Last year, research into what Facebook counts as a video view is three seconds. 

Time is one thing that the most powerful or wealthy person cannot change. As a storyteller and content creator, I always think about the listener/viewer/reader.

In a second a headline can catch someone's attention; in the next two, an image, design. During the fourth second: the teaser. Then, the click to see more. If the first sentence is a disappointment, trust may be broken. If it is as promised, that first sentence (or second of audio or video) leads to the next... 

As successful content has been developed, hundreds of choices have been made. The principles apply to writing and to audio/video.

In Part II which I will post later this evening I'll talk about Kersh, who I met the first night of the first class I took at USC. Over the years Kersh shouted and swore. He was my harshest critic and said I worked harder than anyone he'd ever met. And now when I approach a new project it is shaped by what he taught me. 

Do you see what I see?

It's 4:30 a.m. The alarm sounds (ringtone, iPhone Stargaze).

Before work: glance at local news, morning shows, skim Facebook & Twitter, email, news websites.

Almost everywhere ads appear: popups and videos that begin playing in feeds and on TV.

So. Much. Clutter.

I'd place the clutter into three categories:

• information that I welcome or check
• messages that are irritating
• messages I ignore.

I became intrigued about content that fits into the first category while attending USC, as I began to hear more and more screenwriters, producers, agents, fiction writers and studio execs share their frustration about how challenging it is to find an audience for their projects.

There's information I check daily: professional reading, scrolling through lists of influencers on Twitter, skimming email for messages I subscribe to that contain lists of news links.

Twice a day I post links on social media, with research, selecting and posting all accomplished on an iPhone 6s.

Recently, I was in a meeting where the group, including content creators, discussed increasing the number of news stories that appear on a news home page.

The group was envisioning the page as viewed on a 27-inch screen.

Every morning, after turning off the alarm I'm not yet fully awake. The sheets are cozy; I reach for the iPhone and begin to read.

The day before the meeting I'd taken a screenshot of my iPhone screen, to capture my home page; a picture of what the news site the group was discussing looks like on a small screen.

The header and only one article are visible.

It won't matter to me or to anyone else accessing the site from a cellphone how elaborate the site is on the largest screen. The site, to me, is what I see and experience on the screen of the phone I hold in one hand.

Sorting through the clutter, the audience gives the content creator just a fraction of a second.

Is the content relevant? Interesting? New?

It's fun to work as a team, answering these questions every day.

Do you see what I see? Photography on the web

At work, our news web page debuted a few weeks ago and we are beginning to review analytics. A story from 1972 keeps popping up as the most-read story and for an internal newsletter, a story about fire alarms that was published several years ago often makes its way into the top 10.

We are learning is how challenging it is to work with photographs: how hard it is to create good photography and the technical challenges of working with images before they are published.

The marketing team where I work highly controls printed publications, hiring designers who are trained in layout to create printed materials. As our web presence increases, the editors and writers are creating and uploading content onto the web.

We are using Drupal to create the news site. During our Drupal tutorial, the presenter suggested that we use Photoshop's "Save for web" tools for images that will be featured with each news story. Some in the group thought that this meant tapping a key while the image was open in Photoshop, to save the image.

A quick online search, however, returned a six-page tutorial about how to use the tools within Photoshop's "Save for web" command. Understanding the tools results in a much more vibrant, sharp image. There are also free online video tutorials, and I want to watch them all!

We were also asked to save each image with specific dimensions. There were so many issues with the photos were were uploading, we were asked to give the images to one person to save. The process used took 12 steps to resize each photo correctly; when I outlined them and emailed them to the team, another coworker knew how to achieve the same result in two steps.

I'm curious ... does any one individual, including anyone on the team designing Photoshop, know everything that it can do? Is each member of the team at Adobe skilled at using each command, or has the technology become too complex?

A number that represents how many marketing messages each person sees every day is often stated. A memorable image often makes me pause to experience its message. And that is powerful.

* * *

The next posts will highlight photography, one of my favorite things.

Where the magic lives

Easter weekend, the trash bin at the post office overflowed.

The bin was so full that unwanted supermarket circulars, catalogs and ads from realtors had been left on the counter while campaign postcards, car insurance offers and ads for home security systems had slid to the floor. As I walked to my PO box, a man began sorting through the trash for ads discounts for fast food.

Do any ads make it home from the PO?

So. Much. Information. Had even one person taken the unsolicited mail in their PO boxes home with them?

For the first three months of 2016, I guest-edited a weekly email newsletter that's sent to more than 14,000 people. Analytics for the previous week arrived five days after each issue was published.

 The report listed the top 10 articles; news notes about road closures and ongoing highway construction were always in the top two, while articles about topics that had previously appeared in digital signage or online never appeared.

There is an ongoing debate at work -- is information that is old valuable? Why would anyone care about information published a few weeks ago?

As I studied the analytics report each week, an article that appeared in the list of most-read stories intrigued me. I remembered the article, which answered the question "why are fire alarms so loud." After a little research I learned that it had been published in 2013.

As hard as we try to create new, exciting content, the world wants what it wants.

Readers were searching for the article; had they remembered it as they exited a building during a fire drill? It would be intriguing to place a statement at the end of the article: "Please tell us what inspired you to search for this story?"

While I don't update my blog about storytelling/screenwriting very often, it now has more than 6,000 views. It contains lessons learned in classes I took at USC as well as stories about teaching a colleague at work about screenwriting (we're now working on our second screenplay). If the blog stopped receiving clicks I would take it down, but every week people discover it through online searches.

I read a Bloomberg article published by yesterday titled "Here are the ways companies have failed to markettomillennials. Here's the link: bloom.bg/25GMEKW 

From the article: "...Attempts at wooing the emoji generation are often rewarded with a deafening ho-hum. Tic Tac put out a candy that changed flavors while dissolving (because millennials presumably get bored quickly); sales rose, but less than in the prior two years. Diet Coke put fan tweets on billboards (because Twitter is the millennial’s native tongue, the thinking goes); Americans still drink less and less soda. Banana Republic partnered with Hot Dudes Reading, an Instagram account, to create #HotDudesReadingForACause (because millennials reportedly want products with social conscience); net sales dropped 10 percent."

Hard work and research were put into theTic-Tac, Diet Coke and Banana Republic campaigns, and yet they failed.

The world's most powerful companies and the most talented creatives are challenged when it comes to creating content that is remembered and is shared.

I've learned that the web center where I work collects a list of things people are searching for while they are on our site. While the center had never shared this information with marketing or with public affairs; when asked they forwarded one list. I'm planning to create several articles about topics people are searching for.

I've collected dozens of quotes on a Pinterest board. While I only pin quotes that I think are unique, powerful, creative or funny, two of the quotes have been pinned and re-pinned hundreds of times. Only two. As I see these quotes appear again and again over the months, I sometimes glance at pictures of the people who have repined them and wonder why their message continues to captivate people of all ages and backgrounds. I'm planning to write a short story highlighting the sentiment of each of the quotes as a theme.

Listening. Where the magic lives.

Late night phone calls & decisions that aren't so difficult after all

It was almost 10 p.m. when the phone rang. 

I'd planned to stay up past midnight to finish a freelance article, a feature about a VP of a company in Japan, but my friend was desperate for advice. She said it couldn't wait. 

My friend depends on advertising to find new clients. As a one-person shop, new business makes it possible for her to pay her bills and to keep her office in a beautiful complex.

For more than a year she'd been marketing her company on an exclusive website. She needed advice because the next day was her last chance to renew her internet ad for the next 30 days. 

Her ad had been recently removed from its usual, prominent space on the website. She would only be guaranteed that it would appear prominently throughout the month if she upgraded her plan and she had been paying $1,000 a month. 

She didn't understand why her ad was being held hostage; she wanted her ad to be displayed prominently, as often as possible, throughout the month. 

A rep from the website had explained that the link in her ad that led to her personal website had received hundreds of clicks. Clicks meant nothing to my friend. 

She was also unhappy that a competitor who had purchased the least expensive contract possible was given superior placement for his ad throughout the month while her ad had disappeared.

I explained to her that because so few people were clicking on her competitor's ad, it never met the lowest threshold in his contract. This allowed his ad to languish in its prominent spot while her ad had been consumed  so ferociously that it lost its place; its popularity would cost her.

"I don't care," she said. "No one's calling."

She explained that while she had received clients because of the ad in the past, it had stopped being effective. She ultimately decided to cancel her contract and would advertise on another website.

Before we hung up, she asked advice about a client she had turned down. When she tried to refer him to a different company, he told her that wanted her. "It's like dating," she laughed. "The ones you want could care less while the dates you don't care about are the ones that pursue."

I like to think about it in another way. 

A top screenwriting agent was giving advice about pitching one's work. "It's easy to try too hard," he said. "Don't do it. If you sense the person you're pitching to doesn't like your project, let it go. If you have to work extremely hard your project may sell, but it will have problems at every step of its development."

The world wants what it wants. 

Here's to clients, friends and potential partners, who want what we have, without the hard sell.

Save yourself • The legend of the hairy arms

I don't remember who I was talking to about signing up for the humor writing class, but I do remember that a crowd of students begin to gather around us in the hallway. While I'd heard that people who had taken the class were unhappy, the teacher was well-known and I was interested in the topic.

As students tried to talk me out of taking the class, the crowd grew. They said the teacher was crazy; that the formula he taught didn't make sense; that no one could succeed in his class and that some of the program's best students had became so frustrated that they cried in class.

Then someone said passionately, "Don't take the class. Save yourself! I waited until the next year and took the class from someone else. I wish I could've taken both; there's something to learn from everyone.

The last essay I posted mentioned a professor who had found a way to control who took his class. As the class began he ranted and swore; students lined up to drop the class.

Then, when it was too late in the semester to add or drop classes he revealed his true teaching style.

The class size was reduced; the students who remained trusted him even when he didn't make sense. He also know that at the end of the semester they would fill in a survey about him and the class. The instructor had found a brilliant way to save himself.

Creative people also use techniques to protect themselves.

After work one day I was listening to public radio in the car. That day a designer was featured; the interview was about hairy arms.

The designer had heard the legend of the hairy arms while she was studying design, and often used it in her work.

She said that to save time many years ago, cartoonists from Disney knew that the company strongly disliked cartoon characters (animals) with hairy arms. Because the cartoonists wanted to protect the work they had done, they added hairy arms to the animal characters. When their work was reviewed, the response would often be, "the story is fine but GET RID of the HAIRY ARMS!" If they hadn't added hair on the arms, they knew from past experience that the people reviewing their work would begin to tamper with the story itself.

The designer gave an example about how she used the hairy arms technique successfully. She had designed a logo for a band and she knew they didn't like a specific color. She had created a strong design and wanted to protect it, so she added hairy arms to one of the logos. She used the color they didn't like (hairy arms) in one of the mockups of the logo.

While a quick web search returns many versions of the hairy arms story, I'd never heard about it and neither had my colleagues. I'm convinced that many creatives use the technique whether or not they've heard the story. I have to smile when it's used on me; now that I know the story it's obvious.

It's easy to think changes are easy to make. But creative people make hundreds of choices as they develop projects.

I remember a  director who told us that the only reason he began to direct was to protect his vision and the integrity of his work; Director Irvin Kershner often told stories about how he protected his work from intense actors and concerned studio executives.

There's also procrastination -- waiting until there's no time to make major changes before starting to work on the project.

What are other techniques creatives use to complete projects for clients that will exceed their goals while protecting their creative vision?

Ranting. Precision. Power

It was the first night of class at USC, I was exhausted and the instructor was crazy.

I wanted to take courses at the School of Cinematic Arts (SCA) as an alumni. Though I'd already studied screenwriting in one of USC's other schools, I was required to take an introductory course before I could take more advanced classes in SCA.

Several professors taught intro to screenwriting, and after studying their portraits on the school web page, I chose the person with the kindest expression.

As class began the professor ranted; he swore. He spoke in run-on sentences that made no sense. The second week of class his strange behavior continued.

I watched students line up so he would sign their drop slips, and if I'd had the energy I would've dropped the class too. My commute to USC was over an hour each way and I was working full time. I sat in the back of class, determined to endure the rants and complete the class so I could take the classes I was interested in. 

Then, the deadline for dropping classes without penalty passed. Though the class wasn't exclusive -- any USC student could sign up for intro to screenwriting -- I was surprised how many students remained. They must've really wanted to study screenwriting, or they didn't know much about screenwriting and were intimidated, or maybe the other classes were full.

As class began, the teacher changed. He was kind. He  had written pilot episodes of well-known shows. He was passionate about screenwriting and teaching.

One night I remember turning in an assignment that I wasn't happy with; I knew I hadn't done well. As he began reading my assignment aloud to the class, something happened that I will never forget. Almost immediately he realized that I'd failed. His eyes scanned what I'd written and without pausing he continued to speak, transforming my imperfect narrative and scenes into an amazing story. And I learned and was grateful.

Once, during a break I overheard a visiting student ask him to write a recommendation letter for her; she was applying to the School of Cinematic Arts. He warmly agreed.

I decided to view the class as a master class. And it was fabulous.

One evening, the teacher read an opening scene from a screenplay that a student had turned in. The story opened on a mountain covered with hundreds of trees.

The teacher paused.

"When your story appears onscreen, the screen will be immense," he said. "You describe hundreds of similar trees -- the audience won't know where to look." He then asked us to imagine that on the screen was a hillside filled with trees; an old wood cabin is halfway down the mountain; smoke curling from the chimney.

That evening, for the first time, in an intro to screenwriting course, I understood what it meant to write with precision; crafting imagery with few words that is so powerful that it can compel global audiences to train their eyes -- simultaneously -- on the same, precise spot on the screen.

Great storytelling is more than thinking about what happens next or creating witty dialogue; it's more than creating storyboards that move characters from scene to scene. It is made even more powerful through design.

Incredible.

Analytics & Stoner Pie

When I opened Facebook yesterday a message from Facebook appeared at the top of the feed. It was meant to highlight Facebook's search capabilities and used a recipe search as a teaser.

Oh Facebook I thought, you must know I don't like you as much as I like Twitter and Pinterest, you must know I love cooking and are trying to win my affection.

I collected cookbooks until my shelves were full and I watch Food Network. I also occasionally post to two blogs -- one is about screenwriting/storytelling and I've posted a few recipes on the second, a lifestyle blog. The lifestyle blog has more than 7,000 views though I haven't updated it in quite awhile.

The search option on Pinterest is pretty fantastic and some of my favorite boards are food-related. I wondered how Facebook would compare, so I took the bait. I searched for soup.

Recipes friends had posted showed up followed by soup recipes posted by brands. Among the posts were a few of the now-overdone video clips showing a recipe being made in a few seconds. NOTE: We didn't like Martha posting recipes in an extended series of Twitter posts and we're getting tired of having analytics show "views" on Facebook after just three seconds posts of food being made as we scroll past.

Not blown away but still curious, I searched for pie. I used only the word "pie" because I wanted to see what a broad search would return.

First were posts about pie that friends had posted, photos of pie they'd taken after baking and slices of pie they had ordered in restaurants. Next the search returned content posted by magazines and food companies for both sweet and savory pies. There were also more of the annoying how-to videos. I took a couple of screenshots of recipes and saved one or two posts.

I stopped scrolling when I saw a picture of a stunning banana cream pie. I haven't found a recipe for banana cream pie that I like so I looked a little closer. The photo was perfection, luscious cream pie/banana whipped cream yumminess on a golden crust. Maybe I'd make a pie Sunday night and take it to work Monday.

The account was verified. I noted the words "stoner pie," and thought, this pie looks good, stoners must make great comfort food.

The photo was so lovely that I liked the post. Just as the "thumbs up" icon turned blue I noticed the description, "...a recipe for a delicious cannabis-infused banana cream pie."

Coworkers, bosses, admin, friends are on Facebook ALL the time. I quickly "unliked" the post, hoping it hadn't registered.

How will Facebook analytics measure that interaction? It's a great example of how analytics can be dangerous.

I have friends who plan seminars. They value and carefully study every comment and create reports containing responses, ranked on a scale of 1 to 10, that attendees submit.

Recently, a friend walked into one of the seminars and immediately left when the content was not as advertised. Others also didn't stay.

My friend later said all reviews for the seminar were very good; however the surveys were given after the presentation and only captured opinions of the people who stayed to the end.

Hearts, thumbs-up, pausing or even showing up, not scrolling quickly are carefully counted and are included in analytics reports.

Maybe someday the reports will become more powerful and assign emojis such as the horrified yellow face that's half blue, or the shocked face with wide-open eyes or even the angry face to capture the reality of some of these encounters.

It will be fun to watch and see.

Robocop II -- thoughts about story

I must start keeping track of the stories I tell so I don't repeat them. I think I'm already that person to my close friends. That will be a project for the weekend, but I know I haven't told the following story.

He didn't want to direct Robocop II, he said, and there was no way he would be talked into it.

The project wasn't going well. Unhappy with the screenwriter, the current director had hired a second writer, asking the two to work separately. There were additional concerns, and the studio wasn't seeing progress. Theaters had been booked nationally for a 4th of July holiday opening, his agent told him, and opening weekend was less than a year away.

He had no interest in directing a blockbuster. His agent wouldn't give up, and when he revealed what the studio was offering, he begrudgingly accepted. 

As he told the story to our screenwriting class, he shared how exciting it had been to direct the blockbuster, the extreme size of the explosions during filming and what he had done when he was unable to make his original idea -- showing that it was possible for a human being to fall in love with a cyborg -- work.

It was the first time I understood the difference between a blockbuster (fast paced, explosions, cheap thrills) and feature film as literature (skillfully created, using masterful storytelling techniques to reveal deep layers of meaning). Learning to be able to create the latter would take years of study and work.

One of the most important things I learned while in the master of professional writing program that was reinforced later, in classes I took in the School of Cinematic Arts is that stories are powerful don't have to exist only as a screenplay.

A book or a play can become a feature film; a short story can become a bestselling book. Guest lecturers were writers who had achieved success in more than one genre.

When competing for views, clicks, shares, competition is fierce. While a post or video can go viral with a life of a few hours to several weeks, is it possible to use storytelling techniques to give content a better chance of reaching the audience that will benefit from creating a strong, positive connection with your brand?

Connecting with anything costs the audience. There is the cost of a mobile phone, iPad or flat panel;  Internet, Netflix, Hulu. They're also paying with time. Content fights for space within the constraints of their pressure-filled lives. 

The most powerful stories are packed with code the audience understands. One of my favorite teachers, Ron Friedman, asked why films created in America are appreciated around the globe. His theory -- because America was a melting pot, from it earliest days stories had to be fashioned so that people from many cultures who had gathered to watch a play or a movie, could understand and appreciate the content.

Next time I will begin to share some of these creative, storytelling theories and tools.

Excellence: Photo captions lead to dream job with Disney

An online news story; a digital billboard ad; a photo caption; the first draft of a novel or screenplay -- is every project worth one's best effort?

A couple of years ago I followed along on Facebook as a friend applied for, and was hired to be a nurse at Disneyland. Her little girl says when she grows up she wants to be a nurse like her mom so she can work with princesses all day.

I met her when she was in nursing school and applied to work in a PR/Marketing office where I was director. Last year I noticed a gallery of photos she had posted on Facebook; when I saw the detailed legends she had written I messaged her. "You have the most perfect photo captions on Facebook, and it's because you worked on newsletters when you were in school."

She wrote back, saying that she'd been told that her experience in PR while she was a nursing student was the reason she had been chosen over all of the other applicants.

Those days were grueling -- publishing a monthly newsletter, working with the media and editing an alumni magazine. As we interacted with faculty, administration and the media she experienced the multiple steps required for each project and the strategy behind each step (the "why"). The student workers often made follow-up calls after news releases had been sent to the various media outlets asking each reporter how he or she wanted to receive them. They were frustrated when reporters would request that information be resent several times, but two of our stories made the front page of the national section of the local papers, and were also featured on TV news broadcasts in the LA area. Publication deadline days were exhausting as we identified people in photos, wrote dozens of joyless but detailed captions and waited for final sign-offs.

It's easy to claim expertise but I'm confident that no matter what question the Disney interviewer asked my friend about her PR work experience, she would've been able to answer in detail. Small tasks such as writing the perfect photo caption helped her be chosen against fierce competition to secure her dream job.

Why take the extra time to create content that is so generic that it's given the byline "Contributed report?"

The analytics for Feb. for an online newsletter I've been working on arrived last week.

Some of the stories were created from flyers, news releases or lists. These stories competed for attention during employees' work time. 

We are trying to increase readership. While the online news site we will soon be using may change our process, for now means respecting the limited time employees have to glance through email. Headlines and leads are carefully chosen for each piece that is published. Photos and artwork are chosen and legends crafted with care, and included in the top 10 most-read features for Feb. were several stories with the byline: "Contributed report." 

The importance of creating excellent work, no matter the importance of the project was so important to one professor in the School of Cinematic Arts that she lectured about it during the final class session.

The course was Television Script Analysis, and the professor spoke about the reality of the industry -- new writers rarely find positions with top network or cable shows. The professor said that even as a beginning writer working on obscure shows she had always given her best. She said that some of the early shows she had worked on won their only awards for episodes she had written.

She finished her lecture by telling a story about a writer she had once worked with. He let everyone know that he was just putting in the time. He said that he was saving his best writing -- excellence --for a major show. "He died very young," she said, "before he had the chance to show his best."

NOTE: As I studied screenwriting, playwrighting and fiction writing, one of the great mysteries I tried to solve was how to create content that will make it possible for people to suspend reality and live in the story, losing track of time. I continued taking courses until professors began to tell me I was ready to "go for it." It will be fun to write about what I've discovered.

Rage and respect

[NOTE: There is good news at the end of this post]

A couple of weeks ago I was asked to write about a video an organization had posted that had gone viral. As I examined where it had been posted I discovered that the number of views on YouTube was a minuscule fraction of the viral view count I'd been given.

I contacted in-house analytics staff and after talking to the director of the department that had created the content, I learned that videos automatically begin playing as Facebook users scroll through their feed. If a video is visible for three seconds, it counts as a "view."

This morning I did research and found this: "...In a post on Medium this week, Matt Pakes, a manager in the video product team, wrote that three seconds is enough of a signal for Facebook to register that someone has watched video in the News Feed.

"'While there is no broad industry standard for view measurement, three seconds is one common choice, and gives us a consistent metric for all video on Facebook,' Pikes wrote. 'If you have stayed on a video for at least three seconds, it signals to us that you are not simply scrolling through feed and you’ve shown intent to watch that video.'” (Marketing land.com / Aug. 17 2015)

The topic intrigues me.

I learned about the magical quality of time and film/video when I took a class in beginning screenwriting from Ron Friedman in the USC School of Cinematic Arts. I'll write more about Ron in a future post.

One day Ron was reading a scene that had been written by one of the students. The student had written that the camera should "pause on a picture on the wall for 15 seconds." Ron stopped reading and gave an illustration. He said, "In 15 seconds on screen, Jackie Chan could defeat 18 opponents and play a game of chess with his toes."  Those few words made an impression; as I write each scene I think about the interplay of imagery and time. It is powerful.

When it comes to brands and analytics, I'd go further.

Whatever we're doing there's always something else we should be doing. We try to juggle work or study, family, friends, health, bills often shortening sleep with books left unread on the nightstand, invitations unanswered.

Throughout the day, marketers and organizations are using increasingly invasive techniques to create as many impressions as possible.

As I think of analytics and what should count as a "view," I believe that a glimpse of a video, less than one second, should count as a "view." A brief glimpse of content can create strong emotions. Seeing a box with the "play" triangle in the middle of it should count as a view.

I think the overall effect of these these mini-impressions can be negative, creating hate for a brand by a thousand tiny paper cuts (views).

I carve out time to read about about things that interest me (film, screenwriting, travel, public relations, technology among others), I've clicked on a link and have read the first sentence when a screens pops up; sometimes a tiny sentence allows me to click on it to "visit the site," the worst is when a clock begins counting down: seven seconds... six seconds... five seconds. The magazine is fortunate if I want to read the article badly enough; if not I immediately close the window.

My reaction to ads that forcibly compel me to watch them is the opposite of anything positive (where's a thesaurus)? If I were a brand, I'd consider paying for a my fiercest competitor  to purchase this type of ad.

There is a currency that's equal and will never increase for every individual globally, and that is the number of seconds in a day. From the minute we awaken, we learn to budget and invest time.

I believe that it's possible for brands, advertisers and creatives to create messages that are welcomed, sought after and shared. It begins with respect.

One of my early assignments as a writer was to interview a top medical specialist. My two bosses called me in and warned me that over the years, this physician had skewered every writer who had interviewed him.

I prepared for the interview by asking his assistant for clues about what was important to him; I reviewed his CV (resume) and studied research articles he'd written. During the interview he responded thoughtfully to my questions. I'd learned about him; I'm sure his assistant had mentioned that I'd contacted her to prepare for the interview. I'd respected him, his work and his time. I never did see the temper I'd been warned about and the article became a cover story for the organization's magazine.

It's easy to think of human examples, but the theory that respect can create amazing connections happened to me awhile ago while I was house-sitting for the parents of a close friend. Their home was beautiful and they took several 5- to 7-day business trips each year.

An achiever, I thought I was taking great care of their home and the pets: a Sheltie and two cats. However, the owner told me, "Everything looks perfect when we return, we are hoping you will continue to house-sit for us, but when we get back, Shadow [the indoor cat] is a little upset for a day or two."

What had I done? Shadow's water was crystal clear, changed twice a day; her litter box cleaned daily. The next time I house-sat, Shadow came to the door to greet me and followed me to the couch. I usually played with the dog for a few seconds and then let her out into the back yard before going through the owner's "to-do" house-sitting list.

This time I walked to the couch; Shadow followed. I talked to her: "It's all about Shadow."

When I sat down she hopped onto the couch and stepped onto my lap. She let me pet her for a few minutes and kissed me on the cheek with her nose before hopping onto the floor. Then, she watched me through the window as I watered 25 or so miniature trees, hanging baskets of flowers and ferns.

Before I left I made sure each door was open (including doors the maid had closed that afternoon), so Shadow wasn't barricaded; she could follow her normal routine.

When the owners returned, they said, "what did you do? Shadow was loving when we returned." I house-sat for them for years and when Shadow, a stunning Persian cat, began to suffer from dementia due to old age the owners warned me, "We can't have the neighbors over any more. Shadow has become violent and we're afraid she will injure them."

The next time I house-sat I wore heavy jeans and a jacket, just in case Shadow attacked. She came to the door to greet me as she'd always done, crawled on my lap and kissed me on the cheek before hopping off the couch and going to the window to watch me water the plants.

It's all about respect.

If writers, brands, advertisers take time to create amazing content and respect peoples' time, amazing things can happen.

What can make someone stop, tune out everything and focus on a brand's message? Powerful storytelling techniques can be embedded into the content. More about that in upcoming posts.

Unraveling the complexity

It was the fourth or fifth week of business of writing course when the professor made a prediction. A top agent, he had worked in Hollywood for years. "You're about to graduate," he told the auditorium filled with graduate students, "but only a few people in this room -- maybe five, six at the most -- will work as full-time screenwriters." I wondered if this was the first time the students had heard this.

At USC, I listened to content creators (writers, screenwriters, playwrights), agents, actors, directors, managers, attorneys and studio executives discuss what types of content would be consumed in the future as well as how it might be experienced.

In an advanced motion picture script analysis course, the class studied a new, award-winning movie each week. It was the most challenging course I've taken so far. 

After watching movies that had been produced in the United States, we studied films from Asia and South America. The international films followed a similar structure to those developed in the U.S.; each contained powerful storytelling devices (coding) that enabled the viewer to suspend disbelief. 

One day, about halfway through the semester I waited for the break and asked the teacher why so few screenwriters created scripts that went on to win awards. He said he didn't know.

One of the most important things I learned at USC -- it's all about the story. News articles have become documentaries; short stories and books have become plays. Ideas for blockbuster

movies have come from each one of these sources.

At the end of the script analysis course our final test was a take-home, open book, open note test. The information covered was so intricate and complicated that I worked on the essay questions for about 10 hours. The teacher later told me that he had used my answers as a key when he graded the rest of the tests. 

I will share much of what I learned here, as it contains clues about why a seven-second video or a local news story may go viral.

In addition to storytelling devices, the note program on my phone is filling up with topics I'm looking forward to writing about. Here are just a few:

•managing stories within an organization

•the "rainmaker"

•video

•creative teams

•photography/images/infographics

•deadlines

•creativity vs./and science

•developing content during live events

•search

•planning that enables effortless creativity

•the importance of organizational self-confidence

Dad, are we still a zero?

One of my best friends is funny. She's hilarious and is so gracious that everyone who spends time with her immediately becomes 100 times funnier, too. Annie• and I used to meet for lunch every day. Retelling stories about experiences we had while on a business trip to Belize, Honduras and Peru is so funny that years later we are unable to finish some of the stories because we're laughing so hard.

Annie's jokes have such great punchlines that even though years have passed, when one of us repeats a one or two-word punchline we laugh uncontrollably.

She once told a story about how her dad, who held an extremely high profile position, had joined a multi-level (pyramid) marketing company because he couldn't say no to an old buddy. Her dad never sold a single one of the company's products and never recruited anyone else. As the months went by he would receive monthly statements and when he opened them Annie would ask, "Dad, are we still a zero?" Everyone in the family is an overachiever and the "We're a zero!" punchline has become an often-told, cherished family joke. Hi.Lar.ious!

During the last couple of years, I've heard more and more about analytics that are associated with projects I'm familiar with. Sometimes numbers are emphasized, others are omitted, it appears that at times attempts are fashioned to create a picture of desired results. I've never, however, heard anyone proclaim, "Dad, we're a zero!"

I know that everyone wants the team to win; however when it's not easy to learn how well a project has been received, shared ideas about what might be done to attract clicks, likes and shares are diminished.

I'm temporarily editing an in-house, email newsletter. Though analytics have shown that a small percentage of the recipients read the content, I'd never heard the numbers discussed openly.

Over the last seven weeks, modifications have been made to the newsletter. The number of stories was doubled; more writers volunteered to contribute content. Headlines became longer and word count for content increased. The team thought that more was better and that the order of the stories made a difference in how popular each article would be.

The newsletter is published every Thursday and the report containing the analytics arrives the following Monday. When I study the numbers I'm not afraid to say, "Dad, we're a zero!"

The team is learning interesting things. The order of stories doesn't matter. Topics do matter. Stories covering announcements that have already appeared several times in ads, on electronic screens and on posters are often the least-read. Authorship doesn't matter (stories with "contributed report" as the byline are often among the most-read).

One week the story in the number two spot, about an employee attending the State of the Union Address, was the most-read. Several issues later the story in the eighth of nine spots, about a vehicle auction open to employees, received the most clicks. Notices about building projects on campus are often second in popularity only to notices about street closures that may impact employees' travel to and from work.

When entities submit content that is of interest only to a small group, only a few people read it.

The world wants what it wants.

Seven weeks have passed and we're now going back to the original amount of stories (five to seven). While the story order remains ranked with what's most important to the institution first, the writers aren't as concerned about the placement of their article. More staffers are offering suggestions about things we can try that may increase readership.

Don't be afraid to share: "Dad, we're still a zero!"


The next post will be about the intricacies and incredible amount of work to add even one story to the online newsletter.

The world wants what it wants, part II

It was before dawn, Jan. 1, 2015. My sister and I had met for a run and were about a block away from where I live when we saw a small lost dog trotting down the sidewalk across the street. It was cold, 32F, and he was on the same street where we'd seen a pack of coyotes hunting a week or two before. The dog was a terror mix and had recently been groomed.

He came when I called and we ended our run. I took him home, gave him water and snapped a few photos. While I waited for daylight I tweeted his picture. Soon I was responding to people who had seen the tweet from as far away as Canada. Twitter followers were giving suggestions and asking for updates. 

Local animal shelters and vets offices were closed for the holiday. Someone suggested that I call a vet that was open for emergencies; the person who answered asked me to wait until I could take him to the shelter.

When the shelter opened a day or two later I stood in line, chatting with a woman from an animal rescue organization. I'd been in line for about an hour when his family -- mom, dad and two children -- arrived. They'd locked him in the garage while they'd had a New Year's Eve party and he'd escaped.

At the time I'd signed up with an analytics service, a company that a reporter friend used. With the messages I'd received from people asking for updates and offering advice, I'd felt the story was going "mini viral," but I was surprised that the report said that my reach that week was 81,000.

I'm a member of a group on Facebook that features lost and found pets. The members of the group are passionate about the missing and found dogs, but the shares and comments are minimal. There was nothing special about the terrier I'd found on Jan. 1 -- maybe people were checking social media more frequently on New Year's Day or maybe it was a story they enjoyed following and becoming a part of.

I don't use Pinterest every day but when I do I scroll through the notices that users have re-pinned pins I've saved. I have a couple of boards where I pin quotes; one of them contains more than 400 quotes. I save the quotes that make me laugh or make me think, or because they're so hilarious or inspiring that I want to share them.

As I've scrolled through the notifications about pins people have saved on their own boards, three of quotes I've pinned appear every time I visit. At first it was surprising, then intriguing to me.]

I searched for the pins, clicking on my own quote board and it wasn't easy to find the three quotes. Why do these three quotes continue to appear? 

The only answer I can come up with -- the world wants what it wants.

Ohhh, the world wants what it wants. The world is not interested in the hundreds of other quotes.  I may write a series of short stories based on the themes in these seemingly random, viral pins. I'll let  you know how the experiment goes. 

As for this little guy, I'm glad his family found him. Taking care of him was a fun way to start the year.

The next post will be about a weekly e-newsletter I'm editing at work and what its analytics are revealing.

The world wants what it wants

The world wants what it wants.

Being led by analytics as a person or an organization tries to decide what to create can lead to inauthentic content being shared. Not only does the world wants what it wants, it easily can tell what is forced and will respond with a click or a hostile response.

A great danger is to think that increasing the amount content that is posted will be helpful.

Creative teams may be expected to triple the amount of stories they write or videos they produce in the same amount of time. Staff can easily become fatigued, creativity and joy diminished as they have less time to work with each other.

At work I often hear the editors asking for help with facts, contact and background information. The entire team responds, sometimes in ways that surprise and delight, adding information from their experience. With each comment, the stories become stronger. When the writers are under pressure I hear, "I'm going under the headphones," creating isolation and diminishing what the content could be. 

Our organization uses an amazing outside company to create photographic images for special projects. If the amount of stories for a project are tripled, the photographer's bill increases from $10,000 to $30,000.

The numbers and toll taken on a creative internal staff is much more challenging to measure.

Something to consider: increasing content may decrease the audience. 

There are now more than 400 scripted series and more than 300,000 books are published annually  As one of my mentors, Gina Nahai, often asks new writers, "who is going to read all of these books?"

A powerful strategy would be to post less, but better content.

During a documentary filmmaking course I took at USC, the professor emphasized that on day one of film school each student uses his or her own camera to complete assignments, but by the end of film school, they work in teams, on complex projects.

How fun would it be to work on a team to pursue an idea, with input from a smart, talented team with many combined years of life experience? Carefully chosen topics with sharpened headlines or openings could be developed; words and images that make viewers stop clicking or scrolling immediately with stories and ideas so powerful that they are immediately shared?

One of the most meaningful things in my professional life happened when I introduced myself to a matriarch of the community where I live and work. Before I was finished she said, "I know who you are. I read everything you write. When I see your name, I read what you've written even when I don't like the topic." I thought to myself, "I don't like everything I'm assigned to write either, but I find something about it that intrigues me, and lead with that."

Don't be buffeted, scared or driven by analytics. Run your race with joy, from your heart. Others will take notice, be curious and doubtful but when trust is established, they will want to invite their favorite people to be a part of what you are sharing.

The next post will be about some helpful things analytics have shown me, including a posting of an image that resulted in a story going mini-viral.

Beautiful content -- shared and shared again

My brother worked for TRW before the aerospace company was purchased by Northrop Grumman. As a child I remember him finding and playing with a plastic hovercraft; he started working at TRW during summers while he was a college student. When I had a question about computers or the web I asked my brother, who would later work on the communication system for the Cassini project. "If Cassini ever stops sending back images and data," he once said, "JPL will send a car for me."

The other great teacher in my life was my dad. He was a brain and nerve researcher, and worked for 25 years on the spiral electrode that now enables the deaf to hear. A lifelong learner, he was able to explain the most complicated science concept so that a child could understand it. Science was a topic often discussed over dinner, even before my brothers, sisters and said our first words. While he was Dr. Yuen at work, the kids next door called him "Ted."

When I attended USC, visiting agents, heads of studios, top writers, entertainment attorneys, directors, producers and others in the film and publishing industries talked about how hard it is to get a project produced or published and even more difficult to reach an audience. 

I saw directors such as Irvin Kershner study new technology and marvel at the new things it would allow them to create. I heard an attorney who had worked for the Writer's Guild talk about how  a decision, made by the brightest minds, about a new way of distributing content (the DVD), would eventually cost writers and agents millions of dollars in income for a single project.

I discovered a playground when my brother, who worked for our college's radio station, took me along when he attended NAB. I've followed their publications for many years, and read about content distribution, and publishing and film industry news every day. NAB show follows me on Twitter, and once contacted me, urging me to become a social media influencer at their show. 

That's how my philosophy about content creation and distribution was formed.

Several years ago I began writing to the various directors in my department, urging them to create a voice for the health sciences organization where I work. I now believe that creating great content encompasses far more than voice.

A few years ago one of the VPs called me into her office. She had made it a priority to know each of her new employees and valued the unique skills each of us brought to the organization. "Philanthropy writing requires the ability to move hearts," she said. She then said that the writing I did was able to do this. She had searched for seminars or courses that taught this, and hadn't been able to find any. She wanted me to work with the writers on campus to teach them how to create this type of writing.

Great writing captures, as clearly as a photograph or video, the miracle of a high school cheerleader, leaping joyously as a gazelle, the wheelchair that she once needed for mobility unused. It's not about writing about how a patient has been healed or the results of a research study, it's showing how being healed has changed everything in that person's life and has changed people in their lives. It's focusing on real peoples' lives, changed because of research.

This is the type of content that will never age, will be read and shared and shared again.

Analytics are dangerous

As content is distributed online, analytics are generated and discussed. Headlines in professional publications and in the media reveal that web teams churn and dozens or even hundreds of jobs are cut when numbers fall or do not increase quickly enough.

I believe that analytics are dangerous.

Several years ago I was writing feature stories for a children's hospital annual report. A theme for the report had been chosen and the design concept was charming.

As I prepared to interview a family for one of the stories I realized that instead of background notes, I'd been given a beautifully written story.

The facts were heart wrenching yet at the end of the story great loss had turned into healing and had created lasting, bittersweet joy.

Stories as powerful as this one were rare. I'd been asked to write the story; it was expected. Why wouldn't I write the story? It would be incredible to be recognized as its author.

As I thought about the family's emotions and anguish, I realized that it was because of the anonymous writer's words that I felt the story so deeply.

I corresponded with the mother. She asked for, and received permission from the author (who wished to remain anonymous) for the story to appear in the report, edited slightly for style and length.

After the annual report was distributed, I learned that an influential donor had given copies of the story to more than 20 of his friends.

If an organization recognizes individual authors based on analytics, it influences what content is posted. Would the influential donor have shared the story about the young mother's experience at children's hospital with his friends if I had interviewed the family and had written a new story? Maybe, or maybe not.

Analytics measure what has happened in the past.

If what is created and posted is driven by analytics, people and organizations are always looking backward and powerful content may not appear.

When creating content, analytics can be a dangerous thing.