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.