I’d like to see the thought-leaders out there commit themselves to no more than five posts in a 24-hour period. More importantly, I’d like readers to commit themselves to “un-following” or “un-friending” tweeters who exceed the 5 post limit.
Radical? Perhaps. But I hold the following truths to be self-evident:

• A reader’s attention is a privilege to be respected, not an obligation to be exploited.
• 5 messages a day is a generous allotment — more than enough to sustain communications of genuine substance.
• Twitter behavior will not change unless there’s a penalty for abuse. When excessive tweeters see their friend and follower numbers plummet, they will curb themselves.

What would The 5 Tweets Rule accomplish?

• It would encourage tweets of real substance by adding the key element of quality communications: thought. Instead of creating reflex posts, tweeters would be forced to ask themselves, “Does this comment really merit one-fifth of my daily allotment?”
• It would discourage empty chatter: the endless posts about exercise regimens, travel arrangements, goofy YouTube videos, what happened last night on American Idol, etc.
• It would save Twitter from itself. If participants fail to voluntarily limit themselves, readers — as a matter of self-defense — will abandon the platform.

Surely there will be objections to this rule. Let’s review some of them:
“This is censorship!”
No, it’s not. Censorship is the imposition of control, through law or force or both, by a central authority. The 5 Tweets Rule is more like a boycott: the voluntary action of many consumers. Tweeters remain free to say what they please as often as they like. Likewise, readers are free to say, “Enough!”
“It’s contrary to the open spirit of social media.”
In any real social situation, when are we ever at liberty to speak our minds without restraint, without regard for basic social norms? Never. If I were to go to a party and talk incessantly without regard for other guests, I’d expect to be ostracized or directed unceremoniously to the door. Why should online social media be any different?
“I find way more than five interesting things a day to talk about.”
Sure you do. But just how interesting are they really? With a five post limit, you’re forced to make a judgment call: it’s not merely a matter of being “interesting,” but interesting enough to deserve one of your now precious five daily posts.
“It inhibits conversation.”
On the contrary, it stimulates conversation by clearing our home pages of unnecessary noise and allowing a greater variety of voices to emerge on our screens.
“You’re an @$$hole. Who the h*ll are you to tell other people how to behave?”
Maybe I am an @$$hole. But that’s beside the point. When someone chooses to follow me, I consider that an honor. When I choose to follow you, I’m showing respect for you and what you have to say. Is it really too much to ask you to reciprocate that respect by practicing self-restraint?
Let’s set a date: April 5
We all need a little lead time. I propose that we set aside April 5 (note the “5″) as the day we collectively initiate the 5 Tweets Rule. On that day, if you choose to participate, un-friend and un-follow those tweeters who regularly abuse our attention by spamming us with more than five tweets in a 24-hour period. If you have more energy, send them a direct message explaining what you’ve done and why you’ve done it.
Take the pledge: “5 tweets are sweet, six are nix.”
We need collective action. If you’re ready to make Twitter “safe for democracy,” show your commitment by leaving a comment below that indicates that you will both limit yourself to five tweets a day and un-friend or un-follow tweeters who abuse the rule — and your respect.

I think it’s time we take a hard look at social media from the other side of the relationship — from the reader’s perspective. Forthwith, a biased, opinionated and occasionally testy look at social media that sympathizes with the reader:
Less is more: Do you really need to make ten or 20 tweets a day? Seriously? Maybe your constant posting serves your interests, but here’s what happens on the readers’ side: their applications become cluttered with posts from two or three mega-tweeters who drown out everyone else; now they have to scroll through pages of messages just to catch up on activity in the last four hours.
Have a point: You’re in the airport lounge having a cocktail. Good for you! For me, a total bore. Guess what? You may be the center of your universe, but you’re not the center of mine. Speak when you have something to say that has actual meaning for your readers.
Tell us what to expect: It’s entirely legitimate to use your post to share interesting articles, blogs, videos and other content you find. These messages can be genuinely useful — if they give us some idea what you’re pointing to. Don’t just say, “interesting article here.” An interesting article about what? Even within the limits of 140 characters you can indicate the subject or chief point of the content embedded in the URL.
“I’m a thought leader! I’m a thought leader!”: So you tell me. Often. Here’s an idea: instead of name-dropping every conference you attend or event you witness, how about sharing some actual….thoughts. Then we, the readers, will decide whether you’re a leader worth following.
“Me too!”: Sometimes a retweet helps direct a good idea to people who haven’t seen it before. But think twice, post once. Are you really contributing to a discussion, or are you just adding another voice to an already overbearing choir?
In sum: Hey, I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve been guilty of violating the above points at one time or another. (So don’t bother to respond by throwing an old post of mine in my face; I already know I’m a sinner.) But as a marketer, I do understand this: you can’t rise above the clutter by creating more clutter. Let’s remember that all social media relationships are unequal — the needs of readers come before the desires of writers. Otherwise, we’ll face a backlash of resentment that manifests itself in indifference or even hostility. And your pet social media tool will go the way of the CB radio.

It was designed by the most talented “imagineers” on the planet, the ones at Disney.
And its subject is one we associate with Disney itself — imagination.
Yet the ride, Journey Into Imagination, sucks.
It’s not fun. It’s not funny. And nothing about it seems especially imaginative.
How could this be?
I can only guess, but I suspect it’s the result of having too much of what we think we can never have too much of: talent, ingenuity, money, resources.
And not enough of what we think we should always overcome: limits.
To stimulate creativity, imagination needs limits as much as corn flakes need milk.
Give me an unlimited budget to create an ebook on anything that comes to mind, and I’ll draw a blank. Or worse, write bloated copy that sinks under its own weight.
But charge me with a specific audience. A precise proposition. A sharply defined budget and production schedule. And suddenly, my imagination will come alive as it rises to the challenge. And the resulting product will be stronger for it.
Imagination is not a butterfly that flitters about. (And it’s certainly not a “figment,” as Disney would have it.) It’s a battle-scarred bruiser that needs something to wrestle with to stir it into action.
In these dark and troubling times, we marketers face formidable limits. Embrace them. The resulting rough-and-tumble may lead to our most genuinely imaginative work.

That’s why I’m concerned about a prevailing abuse of the word (or concept), “relationship.” As a pretext for sending me overwhelming amounts of unsolicited email, marketers tell me (in the fine print), that I’m receiving this cascade of irrelevant and irritating material because we have some kind of “relationship.”
Often, I cannot recall what that “relationship” is; when did I give permission for this volume of vacuous nonsense? It turns out that by purchasing a product, I’ve initiated a “relationship.” By downloading a free case study, I’ve initiated a “relationship.” By simply making a request for more information, again, I’ve initiated a “relationship.”
From my perspective, as a consumer, I’ve done no such thing. But from a marketing perspective (especially in the context of cumbersome Do Not Call laws), these are “relationship” opportunities we cannot afford to neglect.
Beware, my marketing colleagues, beware. (Cue in howling sounds.) If we teach consumers/prospects/customers that every interaction with us will result in a barrage of unwanted communications, they will indeed learn. I’ve already begun to hesitate before responding to “free” ebook offers or even asking a question on a live chat forum. And I suspect millions of other consumers are responding (or will respond) similarly. Because we’re learning that every teeny-tiny peep on our part will result in a “relationship” with sales efforts as unwelcome as midnight stalkers.
Real relationships take time. Just because someone thanks you for holding the door open doesn’t mean you’re invited to pack your toothbrush and spend the night. As marketers, we need to be prudent. Don’t punish a modest indication of interest with a painful deluge of solicitations. If we do, we’ll be rewarded with swift kicks to our collective behinds.

And marketers? Their heads are on the chopping block.
Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? But I’m not talking about 2008 — I’m looking back to 1929. You know the story. But do you know the name of the most successful national soft drink at the eve of the Great Depression? Probably not — because they cut back on marketing. An obscure brand out of Atlanta took a different tack and emerged victorious — even in troubled times.
Get the full story:

About a week ago I got an email from my favorite record store. Inside, there was just four lines of text. No images. No flash. No links. No HTML wizardry. No articles on topics of interest.
But those four brief lines of copy spoke to the mutant inside of me. And drove me (and other mutants) to the store.
See how and why this worked:

Some say it’s the inability of marketing to deliver. Some say it’s its inability to measure. Others attribute the gloomy statistics to a dramatically changing marketing landscape in which many find it difficult to keep up.
I suspect a mix of all of the above — plus something else: colleagues in other departments who bind our hands with unreasonable expectations, unfair limitations and irrational impositions.
Yes, the cowman and farmer should be friends. But damn, why is it so hard for IT, HR, finance and sales to get along with marketing?
I don’t have the answer. But I do suggest that when our colleagues suck the life out of our marketing efforts, we learn to bite back. Here’s what I mean:

Yeah, it’s a rhetorical question. Because we all know the answers — the usual suspects: fear, inertia, obsession with the competition. Sometimes a lack of imagination. Sometimes sheer (or in this case, shear) laziness.
But I do suggest a path out of the sheepfold and into the light. You can see/hear my thoughts in the accompanying video:

“It feels like starting from scratch all over again,” she said of this new world of agents and this new market she wanted to enter. “Why, after so many years of experience, does it have to be like this?”
I could certainly sympathize. Starting my business was difficult. And with each new phase — launching a newsletter, creating a website, exploring new industry markets, expanding my service offerings — I’ve always felt like greenhorn stumbling through unfamiliar terrain, trying to hold my own among people I was certain had more experience, expertise and wisdom.
In short, I felt weak. Exposed. And I suspect that many of you out there who have started new ventures have experienced something similar.
So I said to Eileen that maybe that’s the price we pay for being creative. In exchange for the opportunity to pursue something new, something we haven’t tried before, we expose ourselves to risk. To making mistakes and miscalculations. Maybe, even, to some foolishness. Certainly we make ourselves vulnerable.
And that, I think, is the rub. Article after article, book after book, seminar after seminar exhort people to explore, to expand, to be more creative. But after all this ink and air, have we really seen any great increase in creativity or creative thinking? Not really. And I don’t think it’s from lack of intellectual ability or innate talent, per se. It’s because creativity comes with a cost most of us would prefer not to pay.

Show of hands: Who wants to be the newbie? The fool? The awkward rookie? Especially when youth is water that has long since passed under your bridge? Especially when you have an identity — as a parent, community leader, business founder or accomplished professional — that you want to protect within the armor of “wisdom”?
Doing something new is scary. I tip my hat to those of you out there who aren’t afraid to shiver a little. Or to look a little silly. Yours is the kingdom of the creative.

I can’t help but think of “talking head” videos as a big step backwards. But what if videos were more dynamic? What if they conveyed drama? What if they told stories?
Stories sustain interest by introducing a desire and creating conflict, sucking viewers almost against their wills (suspension of disbelief) into the message.
Case in point: Harvard Business School has long used videos to complement their web content. To illustrate the power of case study education — a key part of their MBA program — they had posted videos of professors sitting in dark rooms talking about the case method. Not exactly prime time material.
But in their latest iteration of their MBA site, they made a brand new video with an important difference. In stead of recording people talking, they created an intense mini-drama that showed the case method in action. Though the video is long — close to 13 minutes — it flies by as we see students and professors prepare for class, tackle tough issues, parry back and forth among themselves and with each other, and then engage an entire classroom with their questions and conclusions. (Full disclosure: HBS is a client, but I did not work on the video itself.)
It’s anything but dull. Suddenly, the case method is no longer an abstraction, but an exciting reality. One that makes many people want to participate themselves.
And that’s the point. When video is married to story, the medium comes alive. Video becomes drama, and site visitors become more engaged with our message. That’s what I hope to see more of in 2008.

2) Endless moaning of the lack of respect marketers get. Why don’t we have seats at the table (wherever that is) yet?
Folks, the two things are directly related. As long we rabidly promote techniques simply because they are new, we earn the disrespect we attract.
Despite the rhetoric used to excuse fad-chasing, marketers are NOT obligated to keep current. They are obligated to be effective. Being effective means building a business rationale — based on reason, rooted in the client’s specific circumstances — on a case by case basis. That means doing the hard work of real thinking.
Just yesterday, I was on the phone with representatives of a successful publisher that promotes live audio conferences. Time and again, people keep telling them that they’re behind the curve: why aren’t they doing webinars like everyone else? Simple: Because everyone in their target market of midsized companies has a speaker phone; few of them have video projection facilities that work. Old-fashioned? Maybe. But they’re carrying a heck of a lot of old-fashioned dollars to the bank.
Let’s build credibility instead of buzz. Instead of insisting that “X” tactic is for everyone, let’s clarify real pros and cons — who it works for and for whom it does not. Let’s demonstrate our ability to exercise reason by applying a given tactic within a strategy in which it makes sense.
Then we might just get some respect.

But I suspect many companies aren’t ready for publicity, even if they are fortunate enough to get it.
Case in point: last week, BoingBoing highlighted a cool, new toy I knew my kids would love, the WurlyBird. I followed the link to the originating site and found that the company is based in the UK. Here’s a photo of it:

I poked around the site but couldn’t find any purchasing info for US customers. So I wrote an inquiry: Is the toy available in the US? Where, and for how much?
After a few days, this is the response I got: “We are just in the process of appointing a US distributor so for future enquires contact your local toy outlets. Many thanks.”
OK, at least they wrote back. And I’m sure what they said is true. But what a missed opportunity! At the very least, tell me you’ll put me on a mailing list. Or give me a link to a Web page that will carry news regarding the product’s availability. Or promise me that when you get your US distributor, you’ll write me with a name and number.
I’m sure they got hundreds of e-mails just like mine. And I suspect that they were all answered in a similar way — inadequately. Now, I know they couldn’t have anticipated their good fortune; I’m sure the BoingBoing post was a complete surprise. But brother… if there was ever a time to drop everything and reset your game plan, that was it — seize the moment.
If you’re hoping for a little good luck to come your way, you have to ask yourself: Are you ready for it?

This, despite the fact that these “threats” had been in place throughout the city for more than two weeks.
Despite the fact that they had been on display in NY, LA, Chicago, San Francisco and other major cities without incident.
Despite the fact that these were flat panel displays of illuminated LEDS, without any sign of bulk or volume one would expect from explosive materials.
Despite the fact that they were deliberate designed to be conspicuous (they light up for Pete’s sake) — a quality anyone intent on mischief would probably try to avoid.
No matter. For Attorney General Martha Coakley, “it had a very sinister appearance,” because, “It had a battery behind it and wires.” Santa Claus, consider yourself on notice: You even think about approaching a chimney in Boston with anything deviously composed of batteries and wires, you’re a dead man.
The media has proved no more reasonable. Boston Globe columnist Adrian Walker headlined his fear-mongering screed this morning, “What about next time?” He notes that similar devices caused no disturbances elsewhere but suggests, “Maybe people are less observant there, or perhaps the billboards were planted in less conspicuous locations. That isn’t clear yet.”
Here’s a possibility: Perhaps citizens of other cities were simply less willing to assume that something strange or unusual has to confirm their worst fears.
Now a 27-year-old artist has been arrested on charges of instigating a hoax, even though it’s crystal clear from his Web site and the objects themselves they he had no such intentions whatsoever.
For marketers looking for new ways to reach new audiences, all of this is obviously bad news. But it’s even worse news for people, like me, who love cities. One of the biggest pleasures of urban life is the tantalizing confrontation with the unexpected, the surprising, the unusual — those things that challenge our ordinary habits and perspectives. Such possible encounters are, in fact, the best reason to live and work in a major city.
But as Walker says, “What about next time?” In Boston, the message is clear: The unusual is not something to cherish, but something to fear.

Traditional brand advertising earns grudging respect for the occasional commercial that bows before Baby Boomer vanity (Chiat’s vastly overrated “Big Brother” ad for Apple), and for producing characters, like David Ogilvy, who lend a sheen of sophistication to the otherwise filthy, dirty enterprise of selling stuff.
Case in point: Sunday’s “Pointed Copy” piece, Rob Walker’s “Consumed” column for the last NY Times Magazine of 2006. At first, I was pleasantly surprised that a direct marketing copywriter, the late Arthur Schiff, was among those honored by the magazine’s annual tribute to the year’s notable departeds.
Schiff was the man behind the famous/infamous Ginsu knife and its much-parodied commercials. Like the Mr. Whipple and Bounty ads, the Ginsu spots have earned their place among the pantheon of widely despised ads that were, nonetheless, wildly effective.
But this is where Walker’s pointed piece goes dull. “Getting people to take notice remains the central mission of marketing today,” says Walker. Wrong. Dead wrong. The central mission of marketing has been, is today, and always will be to get people to buy something …. be it a product, idea or even a “brand.”
This core misunderstanding erodes the rest of the column. Walker goes on to mock-celebrate the Ginsu ads for their famous tropes: the karate-chopped tomato, the key sawed in half. To these he attributes the success of the ad …. they got attention.
But that’s not why the ads succeeded. Sure, getting attention was an important part of the game. But the reason the ads stayed on the air, year after year, was because they moved tons of knives. And the reason they moved tons of knives …. a reason Walker completely overlooks …. is because they memorably promised something people wanted: cheap knives that cut anything and everything without losing their edges, yet never need sharpening.
So what? The problem is, too many people who go into advertising (and marketing) make Walker’s mistake. They focus their efforts on getting attention rather than generating action. Then they confuse sophistication with success, and fail to recognize the value of the “stupid” idea that does what marketing is supposed to do …. sell stuff. Anything less misses the point.

In Reidy’s words, “The trend comes as advertisers avidly woo the 18-to-25 market, a coveted group to win over because people this age make brand choices that can influence their buying decisions for life.”
This is old and familiar reasoning. It’s why advertisers are willing to pay more ad dollars for shows that target the young, even if the overall Nielson ratings are unimpressive. It’s why, when I went to college, I was greeted with a free “care package” of branded personal grooming products on my first day in the dorms.
But is this familiar wisdom still true — if it was ever true? Personally, I can’t think of a single consumer product (deodorant, soap, laundry detergent, shaving cream, after shave, etc.) that I used in my twenties and still buy today. And if anything, today’s consumers seem more, not less, fickle. It seems like only yesterday that the “impregnable” Alta Vista was set on its ear by an upstart named Google.
So I throw it out to this group: Is capturing the brand loyalty of the 18-to-25 set as important as it once appeared to be? Or is this another example of just how clueless the big ad agencies continue to be?

But if that’s all you’re doing, you’re missing the third, most important element — your market.
Consider this story:
You may have heard of David Meerman Scott, the guy who got a lot of buzz with “The New Rules of PR” e-book he offered for free from his Web site (the offer still stands). Well, it’s about to become a dead-tree book in a matter of months.
Just a few months ago, he pitched the idea to an agent via e-mail. Here’s the amazing part: 20 minutes later, David got a reply from the agent; by the end of the day, they signed a contract.
Unheard of! In just two months, David had a book deal, backed with marketing support that’s unprecedented for this publisher.
Why? Why was the agent so eager and how did David land such an attractive deal?
Because his book proposal came with a built-in market. In his initial e-mail to the agent, David explained that “The News Rules of PR” had racked more than 100,000 downloads, had been featured in more than 200 different blogs and had been commented on by more than 1,000 people on those blogs.
In effect, David’s book was pre-sold. That’s why the agent wrote back in 20 minutes and why the publisher is so eager to run with the book.
So sure, next time you pitch a book, describe your idea and articulate your credentials. But if you really want prompt attention and a lucrative deal, bring a market to the table. Demonstrate your book’s viability — that there are thousands of readers already primed to buy it. Because in the end (and in the beginning, too) that’s what publishers really want to hear.

At a party or other social event, you’re introduced to someone who’s opening a new business. “That’s great,” you say politely. “How are you going to market it?”
Their response? “Oh, I don’t believe in that kind of stuff. I think word of mouth is the best kind of marketing.”
Sigh. As a matter of fact, genuine WOM …. the kind that generates referrals …. is terrific. But unfortunately, 99% of the people who say “word of mouth” really mean, “I’m not going to do anything.” They use WOM as a rationalization for passivity. And in the real word of business, passivity equals death.
“Word-of-mouth” does not mean “sitting-on-behind” (SOB). Real WOM demands careful planning, hard work and persistence. It means crafting a memorable message, developing an engaging business persona, identifying appropriate media or social networks, targeting key influencers/talkers and, perhaps, creating a rewards program for your most active spokespeople. It’s a major investment, but one that can be well worth doing. It’s a very active program.
When we advocate WOM, we have to take pains to articulate exactly what we mean …. and all the activity and investment WOM really involves. Otherwise, we’ll face a sea of prospects who’ll use WOM as an excuse to slash their marketing budgets, content to let their customers magically come to them. And in fact they will sit and wait. And wait. And wait–

Now the subject is inescapable. Topics that were once confined to discreet, brown-paper packages are now fodder for afternoon talk shows and supermarket aisle women’s magazines.
In fact, just a few years ago, my jaw hit the tabletop when I found an article in Redbook — the champion of casserole-carrying, middle-class, mom-and-apple pie probity — on the pleasures of anal sex. (I’m not making this up!)
For better or worse, we’ve come a long way from Puritan/Victorian taboos about sex. But what about money?
Just today, I got feedback on copy I wrote for a brochure about an investment plan. In one section, I listed the key features/benefits of the plan under appropriate category subheads such as, “Participation,” and “Tax advantages.” But the client objected to the one labeled, “Using the money.” Why? Because it’s “too crass.”
But why is it “too crass”? After all, you sign up for the plan in anticipation of a future day when you (or your beneficiaries) can use the money. That’s what it’s all about.
If it’s too crass it’s because it’s too naked — it openly acknowledges the reality beneath the sheets of “planning,” “future,” and “dreams”: money. Filthy lucre.
Think about it: If you have children hovering around the age of puberty, you’ve probably already engaged them in conversations about sex. But do they know how much you earn? How much the mortgage or rent costs? What it takes to pay the bills each month? If they’re like most children, they probably have no idea — the stork brings the income every month, or it’s found every week under the cabbages in the back yard.
I guess the word “crass” hits a sore spot with me. In college, a professor tagged my inquiry with that word when I asked how a certain artist — with outspoken left-wing views — could afford her amazing studio on Prince Street, in the heart of a booming SoHo.
I should have known better. Art is about the spiritual. Or social enlightenment. Or political change. Not about something so crass as mere money. Though, of course, nothing moves in the art world without it.
Little moves in our own world without money. But we like to feel superior to it. As a consequence, every corporate mission statement touts “commitments” to every virtue under the sun — except the one that’s at the core of their existence, turning a profit.
What do you think? Talk dirty to me — tell me what you think about our attitudes toward money.
Technorati tags: copywriting sex financial planning

Typically, when ad agency people talk about “integration,” you can be sure it’s a play to remain relevant in a marketing world in which traditional media purchases (i.e., how ad agencies make most of their money) are steadly declining in value.
This article more or less confirms my jaundiced view of advertising. I was particularly intrigued by a quote from Kathy Kiely, president of the Ad Club in Boston, who seems to assure us that “integration” with new methods — buzz marketing, online social networks, WOM, etc. — posts no real threat to the old way of doing things: “I always say, you can sell your message online or on a sandwich board. The media will always change. But core branding never will.”
Well, yeah, I guess there will always be core branding. But is the Internet merely a new place to stick the same old ads? Do you really purchase WOM the same way you buy column inches or broadcast time? In other words, can you really simply transfer the old way of creating messages to the new media and tactics?
I’m skeptical. I think online marketing, buzz and all the rest need a much more sophisticated way of thinking — and that if all you’re doing is shifting ad dollars from print and broadcast to the Web, you’re going to get burned. Big time.
But there’s a bigger message in Kiely’s statement, albeit an implied one: that though the methods are changing, the old arbiters of marketing, the ad agencies, remain important because, after all, core branding remains the same. That’s what really rubs me the wrong way. In article after article, speech after speech, agency representatives keep telling us that agencies matter because they’re the experts on branding — that they own the brand.
I don’t buy it. I just don’t see them as the brand builders (or even managers) that they used to be.
What say you?

A couple of years ago, I called my heating oil company to complain about prices. The call went nowhere until I read off a list of better prices from the company’s competitors (a list I found on the Web). I got a better rate.
Same with my credit card. No dice until I quoted a mail offer with a better rate that I had just received in the mail. Suddenly the representative needed to speak with a supervisor; when she returned, I got the same good rate on my old card.
A few months ago, I promoted my services through a letter with the following headline: “My client asked for 500 qualified leads. They got 1,200. What can I do for you?” That letter has led to thousands of dollars worth of new business that continues to grow.
The common denominator? Numbers. Right or wrong, numbers reek of credibility. Of objective truth. Of hard reality. They build trust and often move people into action.
The next time you’re stuck trying to write a lead, don’t make a vague promise. Don’t talk about values or visions. Add a number to your message: “Save $10 when you act by June 30″; “Grow revenues by 120%”; “Cut inventory costs by 53%”; “Get 3 times more frequent flyer miles”; etc.
Then count the results that come in…

…What does the novel tell us about what it means to be an advertising or marketing professional?
Here’s an answer from an unexpected source, an overview of James Joyce’s Ulysses by James Martin Adams. In the book, the hero Leopold Bloom (who corresponds to Homer’s Odysseus) makes his living as an advertising solicitor. Why this profession? This is what Adams has to say:
“Because the art/trade of puff and publicity is a characteristic art/trade of modern society, involving cleverness but not creativity, a cliche-ridden mind and a measure of petty shrewdness, a smattering of all subjects and a mastery of none. Because it is performed under the auspices of the business, rather than the editorial department. Because it is a peripatetic, semi-bourgeois, sub-literary, pseudo-business kind of a job, entirely suitable for a small-time conniver like Bloom.”
Or small-time connivers like us? Agenbite of inwit!

…and attended the annual meeting of the Connecticut League of History Organizations, held at the New England Air Museum. There, the president of the museum welcomed us with a warm yet provocative speech.
In sum, he said that museum attendance is declining (which solicited many sympathetic nods from the audience), but cultural institutions are responding the wrong way (which solicited many stiffened backs). The answer isn’t to ask donors for more money, he said, nor to blame the populace for “not getting it.”
The answer involves connection — connecting what the museums have with what people want.
In other words — I couldn’t help thinking to myself — it’s a classic marketing communications challenge: taking the substance of who or what you are and connecting it to the needs/desires/passions of your audience.
As you can see on their website, the NE Air Museum houses a stunning collection of classic aircraft. How would you connect this museum and others like it to a new generation addicted to video games, iPods and multi-tasking?

…built on one premise: increasing Web traffic. I think it’s time to step back from the hype and review the situation. What works and what doesn’t? I hope lots of people will leap in, but for starters, I want to throw down the fruits of my (openly opinionated and shamelessly subjective) experience.
Nota bene: I acknowledge that what has worked for me won’t necessarily work for everyone. Conversely, I admit that techniques that have failed may reflect my own weaknesses, not flaws in the tactics.
Google AdWords: The pay-per-click stuff. Not a big winner for me. “Copywriter” and “copywriting” are just too expensive for me to be serious player; and I’m afraid that were I to invest (and it would take lots of investment) in the most obvious keywords, I’d attract lots of spurious, unqualified traffic.
I recognize that to proceed with this approach, I’d have to narrow my market and proposition, and target more precise keywords appropriate to my desired niche. Right now, I consider this a future possibility, not an urgent need.
Keyword stuffing: Lame-o. I’d rather have quality content qualified prospects WANT to read than artificially juiced copy that lures in the tire-kickers.
Blogs: Big win! But not in the way you might think. The big-time bloggers on this site may jump all over me for saying so, but I don’t think blogs are all that successful as “conversation” builders with key constituents.
Why? Because most of the people I want to talk to (and this is true for many of us, I suspect) are just too damn busy to screw around reading blogs all day. Much of this “relationship” stuff is entirely one-sided; we marketers are serenading under lots of windows while the objects of our affection remain indoors, stuffing fingers in their ears.
That said, I find that my blog does serve an important role …. as a traffic builder. Blogs serve up a constant diet of keywords and content to hungry spiders, bots and other bloggers. My stats have significantly improved since I started blogging.
E-newsletter: Not really a traffic builder. But a great way to capture visitors who have arrived. And those that sign-up tend to be on the more qualified end of the prospect spectrum. In my experience, the e-newsletter fulfills the relationship sustaining role that blogs are alleged to have, and it does so in a less intrusive, less time-intensive way.
Articles: Another big winner. Every publication on a legitimate site sends a significant wave of traffic my way. Since most of these articles are archived, the articles maintain a relatively constant stream.
What about article marketing on reprint sites? Yup. That works, too. Though not as effectively as running with a strong publication site.
Public speaking: So-so for traffic. But many event participants who do visit will sign up for the e-newsletter, which is a big plus.
URLs in print ads, direct response vehicles, etc.: For print ads, I just don’t know …. I don’t run ads myself. Direct mail? That’s been a huge winner for many of my clients who’ve measured huge surges in traffic after mailings. Collateral? Sure, of course you should include your URL in your materials, but I wouldn’t expect much from it.
I’m sure there are many other options I’ve neglected to mention. But it’s a start. What say you? What works, what doesn’t and why?

…that resulted in the finished campaign before my eyes. As a veteran of countless, purgatorial hours of “creative” sessions, I don’t find it difficult to imagine the conversations and counter proposals at these meetings.
Take the Charmin toilet tissue campaign. (Please!) Why bears? Why are frolicking, dancing bears selling TP? I imagine a creative session that went something like this:
“We need something soft. Something cute. Something cuddly. Yet with some connection to . . . you know . . . what people do with our product.”
A sullen silence all around. Suddenly, someone has an “ah-ha!” moment. “I know,” this someone says. “Bears!”
“Of course!” the creative director crows. After all, when we want to affirm that something is true, we ask, “Do bears [expletive deleted] in the woods?”
Lo, the odd logic of Madison Avenue at work. And a vulgar expression becomes the driving force for a too-cute TP campaign. Because bears [expletive deleted] in the woods.
Brand advertising: making surrealism part of the ordinary tissue of our lives.

Our obligation is to focus on what’s new — or what’s changed in the last few years. Some would argue that the big news is technology — more sophisticated data management, variable data printing and electronic response options, among others. But I see some other changes and would love feedback on what you see as well.
Among my observations:
* When I started in this business 10 years ago, 3% response rates were common. Now we do table dances when we get 1%.
* In B2B, getting responses just isn’t enough. I see a growing demand not just for leads, but for qualified leads. And not just qualified leads, but for a complete tracking and accountability process that records the source of each lead and assesses its value.
* Again in B2B, copywriters are being ask to supplement traditional copy (letters, brochures, e-mail, etc.) with more substantial content, such as reports, white papers and articles, that can be used as offers to attract response.
* In both B2C and B2B, I see a greater effort to integrate direct mail and web strategy. Sure, “integration” has been a buzzword for years. But for most of those years, it tended to be little more than buzz. Today, I see more real action, more real effort to coordinate direct mail campaigns with either short-term landing pages or long-term web content development plans.
I’m sure there have been plenty of other changes I’ve neglected to write down. What do you see? Is it the same old direct mail in a flashier package? Or have you witnessed more substantial changes in the last 5 – 10 years?

They’ve crossed chasms, pursued excellence, painted purple cows, thought out of the box, thought in the box (new book! Honest!), jumped on the cluetrain and played in flat worlds up the wazoo.
And yet–
And yet they’re going nowhere. With each meeting, they have an exciting new book to talk about …. and brand new buzz words to sling …. but their businesses aren’t moving ahead. They’re spinning their wheels and getting in a lot of reading while they’re doing it.
Biz and buzz books have become a drug. The antidote is action. Instead of reading lots of books, read one. Then stop. Test one thing you learned. Apply just one suggestion to your business. Then evaluate the results for yourself before you move on to the next revolutionary book that’s going to change the way the world does business.
Because the only thing that’s going to change the way YOU do business is action. Every action leads to precious experience. And experience is the best teacher of all.

After two wonderful days of presentations, this is the most important thing that’s coming home with me:
It’s not the beauty of Santa Barbara, impressive as it is.
It’s not the luxury of the Upham hotel, as relaxing and inviting as it has been.
It’s not even the intelligence and wisdom of the speakers, as engaging and inspiring as they are.
It’s the passion and integrity of the participants themselves, people with a hunger to do better and the courage to tackle change. With my final post of the seminar, I want to tip my hat to them: Thank you! Each of you is an inspiration. I hope I have the pleasure of meeting all of you again.

The best presentations have lots of “lumps” in them. Instead of proceeding smoothly from point to point or slide to slide, the presentations that hold my interest — and build real excitement in the audience — are broken up with active spontaneous conversations that emerge from audience questions. These sudden eruptions often prove more valuable and instructive than the intended presentation material itself.
That gets me thinking: As speakers, perhaps we should spend less time agonizing over a “perfect” presentation (and rolling it out flawlessly) and instead, think of our material as a starting point. Let the content be catalysts for engaging our audiences in active give-and-takes that illuminate the subject at hand on the terms that matter most, the pressing needs and cumulative experiences of the audience itself.
Just a few minutes ago, Jim Lenskold finished a terrific talk on measuring marketing ROI. While his slides were excellent, the best moments came when Jim responded to audience questions that in turn led to open discussions, based on our experiences, about the strengths and weaknesses of various measurement models. No slides and few articles or books could have captured all the wealth of insight that emerged spontaneously within that room.
Real learning can be a little messy. But creativity always makes a mess. And the opportunity for creative mess is the real beauty of a live presentation.

An hour after landing, I was drinking wine with workshop participants before resting up for the seminars ahead. I took the opportunity to ask if there were any special copy-related topics they wanted me to cover.
“Yeah,” said one marketer. “How do I know when my copy sucks?”
Here’s a start: Consider a sign I saw at a fast-food counter at the Dallas/Ft. Worth airport yesterday: “We’re sorry. This concept is currently unavailable. Please consider one of our other available concepts.”
“Concept”? I was looking for a pulled-pork sandwich, not a philosophical abstraction.
So — Copy Sucks Detector Number 1: Ridiculous, pretentious language that has absolutely no meaning for your customers. If you mean “restaurant,” say “restaurant.”
Other signs of the vampire’s bite?
* Lots of superlatives such as “excellence,” “cutting-edge” and “innovative.”
* Lack of a clear “what’s in it for the customer” message.
* Shortage of tangible, meaty specifics.
* Presence of self-congratulatory chest beating, i.e., “We’re the world leader in . . . ”
* Reliance on jargon and business babble.
* “Me too” positioning that’s similar to your competitors’ messaging.
The list could go on and on. Feel free to hang the garlic and add your own bites.

That’s why the Web can be so powerful …. it’s just chock-a-block with information that could be useful to you. I say “could” because there’s a catch: you have to find it first. Finding what you know is easy. But finding what you don’t know can be very difficult.
Take the most popular form of info-gathering: a keyword search on Google. But if you don’t know what you’re looking for …. what it’s called, how it’s referred to …. how will you know what keywords to type in?
For a similar reason, I actually miss the card catalogs at libraries and wish they’d bring them back. Why? Because you didn’t have to know the exact title, author name or subject. You just had to be approximate, because you could then scan the cards, forwards and backwards, to uncover what you might be looking for. It was a delightful process of discovery that could help you find books you didn’t even know you wanted to read.
It’s also why human give-and-take remains so damned important. In the last week, I attended two live events where helpful participants suggested valuable Web sites I would never have found on my own …. I wouldn’t have known where to look, or what keywords to type in to find them.
This tells me at least two things: One, you shouldn’t count on keyword searches alone as a way to drive traffic — you need to get people talking about you, live and online. Two, to find what you need that you don’t know about yet, you need to keep your ears open.
Where have you picked up some good scoops lately?