The most important part of writing isn't the writing

I question everything I write.

Until I don’t.

That doesn’t mean I believe my drafts evolve into perfection.

Truth is I haven’t come close to writing the perfect piece, ever.

But what I’ve managed to learn over a few decades of writing is this:

The most important part of writing

is questioning and thinking about

what you just wrote.

This is the writer’s contemplative work that demands unmerciful scrutiny:

• Is this really what you mean?

• Will it resonate with the audience?

• Did you use a helpful example or accurate analogy?

• Did you allow jargon to slip in?

• Can you say this differently but better, quicker, more human and conversational?

• Is it reflective of the brand or individual you’re writing for?

• Would you want to read this?

• Does it educate or challenge what you think?

• Does it make you want to take action?

Here’s an accepted truth:

Anyone can write and putting words on paper or a screen is easy.

But not everyone is a writer – and that’s okay and also acceptable. Not everyone is an engineer either. Which is why it’s helpful for non-writers to understand how writers do what they do.  

Writing (the process) doesn’t look like

writing (the act) at all.

Writing is rooted in everything that is simmering before the first words are hammered out, after the first draft –  and second, third or seventh – or however many are required until you land on a draft worthy of being final.

Writing includes thinking, mulling, stewing, questioning, arguing with yourself, walking away and letting first words calcify, returning to test if they are strong or brittle, tearing elements down and rebuilding.

It looks more like sculpting than writing. That’s because it is art.

Writing also involves letting someone with zero subject matter expertise read your draft to find out if they can follow it, to see if it makes sense even if they don’t know the technical details. Because simplicity outperforms the bravado of expert posturing. Which is to say…

Good writing is hard.

It is never automatic, and never a given.

Writing something good, once, is in no way a guarantee that your next thing will be any good. It requires doing the hard work from scratch, all over again with no shortcuts, in hopes that it too might become good.

The myth of great ideas.

Great ideas (epiphanies!) rarely “just happen” in a first draft or any draft. It’s like the fleeing fireworks display in the sky – it’s looks pretty, briefly, followed by hazy residue once the twinkle fades as you await what comes next. Instead, great ideas are the tortoises in these races to the finish line, always plodding a bit slower than we’d like but worth it in the end.

In fact, epiphanies aren’t unexpected, out-of-the-blue thoughts or ideas at all. They emerge when you prune and edit everything that’s been taking up space – in your brain and on the page. In this sense, the epiphany becomes sudden, recognizable clarity as bloated language and jargon get removed.

The great idea emerges after carefully working and examining the entire landscape and finding it has been hiding in plain sight all along.

Good writing is never over.

However, at some point it needs to be ready or complete. Complete means as far as you can take it, as well as you possibly can, with what you know right now. Because a few weeks or months from now you’ll look at what you wrote and find yet another way, possibly a better way to say it.

For people who don’t do a lot of writing, this takes entirely too long.

For writers, there’s always a desire for more time to allow the best ideas and language to emerge and mature. And that’s because writers know what’s at stake, writers know what the right words can unlock.

These days a lot of written content feels disposable, unhelpful, noisy [add your descriptor here].

It feels like fast food: quick, convenient, seemingly necessary, but also lacking. And just like fast food, disposable content feels even less fulfilling after its consumed.

It doesn’t have to be this way.

Even the shortest post can have a powerful impact.

The deception is in how easy it appears (but now you know the truth).

Slow down.

Think it through (ask more Qs and then think some more).

And then write some really good sh*t.   

** For the record, I wrote and edited this piece across multiple days and sittings, challenging myself and what I believe about the process. Nothing comes easy.

*** The photo image is the cover of Steven Pressfield’s book of the same title and is a must read for writers.

Everyone wants creativity & innovation; few have the required patience

Photo credit: Duane Mendes via unsplash

I read a sponsored headline on LinkedIn recently that said – The Opposite of Inconvenience Is Innovation.

(Not quite true and it resonates as an AI headline, but I’ll withhold judgment).

Then you had to “unlock” their gated, six-carousel slide deck to understand their point.

To that I’d say: unlocking gated material on LinkedIn is the opposite of convenient.

Fellow creative and copywriter Mike Roe recently shared an article on the death of creativity. I was drawn to a particular claim about the near-uselessness of three-fourths of the brands paraded in front of us, and how we wouldn’t miss them if they disappeared.

Think about that: the vast majority of companies/brands are easily forgotten, including yours.

The premise here is that we’ve killed creativity — meaning we aren’t creating anything memorable — in lieu of being efficient with time and speed at the lowest possible cost.

That, friends, is how we end up with headlines and campaigns promoting products like the one above. And it is also how they falter because they fail to entice, and in turn expect something from us long before earning our trust.

What might’ve enticed me to open this sponsored campaign and discover their offering? Simple:

1.       Don’t lock your content on LinkedIn (be generous, be a thought sharer)

2.       Entice us with stories/snippets that will resonate, something like…

Opportunities are created more than they are granted.

Your team keeps looking for opportunities, but when was the last time you granted them time to create something that turned heads? Got people talking? Shook the industry?

Here’s the rub: creating takes time. This can feel wildly inconvenient. It is far from instantaneous. But it is worth it. Just ask the computer maker not named Dell, or Gateway, or Compaq, who put a jukebox in the palm of your hand, and gave you a phone that still functioned like a phone, but became your essential life assistant.

Innovation isn’t doing what you know how to do a little differently. That’s called chasing the market leader. And, whoa, talk about inconvenient.

Remember — you have a choice: to either keep looking for opportunities — or start creating them.

To be fair, maybe this was the same kind of sponsored content the company gated, offering me to dive deeper into their offering, their own unique solution.

But I’ll never know – because I wasn’t compelled to look.

Think of it this way:

How many times has your audience been dismissive or not compelled to look because the creative was rushed, roadblocks to engagement we intentionally set for the sake of data, and meeting the artificial deadline prevailed over doing the best possible work with a better chance of resonating? Have any of us ever been guilty of such a thing?

When we rush creativity (the very thing that leads to innovative ideas) we take away the power of its potential.

We’ve been conditioned to “box it up” and promise what it will do in terms of metrics, sales, and how it measures up on spreadsheet – literally putting it in a box. When we do this, we have succumbed to the antithesis of creativity. Everything begins to look the same. No wonder three-fourths of brands are forgettable.

We neuter creativity before it has a chance do its intended thing – which is to wow people, stop them in their tracks, and get them talking.

And yet that is precisely what every company says it’s pursuing, but typically with poor copy that falls on deaf ears.

Short attention spans, content deficits, and disconnects

You have 1.3 seconds.

One. point. three.

That’s the length of Gen Z’s attention span according to a new global study.

The good news is you’ll get a few seconds more with older generations.

To clarify, this is about active attention spans regarding advertising.

But advertising is a form of messaging. A sliver of storytelling.

And it either grabs one’s attention or it doesn’t. It’s memorable or it’s not.

This is an age-old challenge for advertisers and marketers: How to grab that fast-fleeting attention for a few seconds. And then a few more. The stakes have been raised and there is pressure-cooked dilemma of attention deficit driven by social media scrolling.

But don’t worry. Your marketing team will creatively crack the code.

You’ve got bigger fish to fry. Like answering this question:

What will we say once we have their attention?

More than two decades of asking company leaders what they do, why they do it, why people should choose their product/service – and then asking their people the same question – and it’s pretty clear most orgs don’t have clear-cut answers.

Vague ones? Yes.

Succinct and consistent? Rarely.

1.3 seconds of cool may be just that — cool.

What it cannot do is convey your complex message, even when distilled to something simple.

However, creativity can point to your story that connects emotionally to an audience.

Of course you know your story, right?

The one your team knows inside and out?

That conveys your unique value and what you bring to the market?

That underscores why people – employees and customers alike – are all in on what you do?

Yes? Vaguely?

This takes more than 1.3 seconds.

So breathe.

And let your creative team be creative when it comes to grabbing attention.

Don’t let an audience attention deficit lead your business into a content deficit.

You still need to nail your story. Know your why. Clarify what makes you worth their time.

Remember that old-school metric about how an audience needs to see/hear your message nine times for before truly acknowledging it for the first time?

The same is true in a generation of scrollers.

Except today it’s going to take a lot more than nine times.

But once you grab their attention, it’s game on.

To keep their attention you need to make a meaningful connection.

And in case you need reminded, that is why your company exists in the first place.

The overlooked value of your unseen audience

How much anxiety does the fear of an unliked post bring?

Plenty.

Study after study confirms the anxiety and depression it wields, especially among young people — perhaps the same young people who are or soon will be running your social media.

And for what? The measurable love of the heart button and that thumbs-up prompt?

Yet we’re told not to get caught up in the “likes” metric.  

That it’s really about engagement — you know, that other metric.

Here’s the thing: I agree with part of that logic. And I agree it can be lonely out there.

But I don’t view any post as a success of failure based on the illuminated heart or thumb.

Nor should you.

Because there are too many factors outside your control once content goes public.

Knowing this, some people will go to extreme measures to avert a low number of likes.

Perhaps you’ve been asked to like posts (even though we’re not getting caught up in that metric, right?)

Maybe you’ve be confronted with this question from friends, colleagues, or even clients:

“Why don’t you ‘like’ my content?”

My answer is: “I see your content and quite often I enjoy it. It’s just not meant for my audience.”

That’s not a slight, it is a reality of navigating a messy, algorithmic socialsphere.

Because when you “like” something, some platforms are compelled to put that liked content in front of your audience, too. And no matter how good it is, it might not be right/ideal/appropriate for your audience.

This is often an overlooked, secondary level of your content strategy — being keenly aware of everything you are putting in front of your audience.

So, back to my response about seeing content, but not reacting to it publicly.

The practice is known as lurking — and it is the bane of analytics teams because it lacks helpful, actionable data. That can push some decision-makers down the slippery slope of “if we can’t measure it, we shouldn’t do it.”

This should be the “a-ha moment” for anyone creating and sharing content.

You can safely assume there could be hundreds of lurkers seeing what you share, who perhaps don’t want to click, get hunted down, or sign up for your finely crafted marketing material — as good as it is.

This isn’t permission to inflate data, but it is permission to accept that a wider viewership exists.

That some of them are thinking about it.

That maybe a few will react to it.

And that perhaps someone will reach out because of it.

If not now, then over time as you continue to provide value.

It is the opposite of instantaneous gratification; opposite of the dopamine hit these platforms reward and we’ve come to crave.

Ask yourself this: during your last scroll through social media are you likely to remember what you liked or who provided value or insight? (it also might’ve been a like).

Proof of the unseen audience

In my other life as a painter, I share my work frequently online.

The vast majority — 80 to 90 percent — of people who have reached out and eventually purchased my work were unknown to me.

They weren’t publicly liking the work.

They didn’t comment on what the read or saw.

And they didn’t sign up to take a voluntary slide down my sales funnel.  

Instead, they were simply paying attention, patiently waiting, lurking…

Until it was time to act (and yes, marketers hate this random waiting and not knowing).

And here’s your takeaway:

We’ve all been conditioned to measure, to be metric hungry.

But conversion – the metric that really matters – comes in ways we can’t always graph or add up on a spreadsheet.

Sometimes – perhaps most of the time – our work is about showing up when it appears nobody is paying any attention.

Show up anyway.

Do the work. Provide value. Repeat.  

Enjoy the likes if/when they come. Engage those people if it makes sense.

But also feed the lurkers by playing the long and often quiet game.

Because when your sales funnel fails to tell you where out-of-the-blue customers come from…

When you’re left to assume they arrived on your doorstep without seeing your carefully curated email drip campaign or gated downloadable content, ask:

Would I prefer this interest and potential to become a right-fit customer come from…

A Google search? (assuming you’ve got a good SEO game going)

A Referral?

The individual quietly lurking but paying attention?

Referral is obvious, but quietly lurking is a close second in my book.

It is unseen, below-the-surface interest before there’s actual engagement.

It is the quiet act of someone building knowledge and respect for what you offer long before there’s an offer on the table.  

Don’t get too caught up in the likes, engagement, and things you can neatly plot as told + sold in a social media playbook.  It’s complicated. And frankly, you have better things to do than play beat the algorithm.

Which is why we can all like and learn to embrace the idea that lurkers exist.

Lurkers, when moved to action, bring a lot more end value than likes.

And that’s a metric everyone can get behind — if you have the patience.

The biggest problem facing content creation today

Content is king. Long live content.

If you buy into this mantra, then you already know there is a daily scrum playing out across every conceivable media platform among content creators. They are pitted in a continuous battle for eyeballs, influencers and customers in hopes of grabbing those brass rings of conversation and conversion.

But here’s the rub: for too many content creators, creating exceptional content takes a backseat to creating an exceptional amount of content – even when we know that, in most cases, less is more. A few great posts will outshine a bunch of mediocre ones every time. But still we feel compelled to churn out thoughts and ideas because our content calendars and social strategies demand it. After all, we must feed the beast, right?

The biggest problem facing content creation today isn’t a lack of new content, the need for more boundary-pushing thinking, or getting content to audiences faster.

The biggest problem is the absence of good editing.

Without good editing you jeopardize your credibility and the brand you represent. Poorly conceived content often falls on deaf ears and a quickly fleeing audience. When that happens, the “Content is King” mantra can suddenly become “The King is Dead.”

You can avoid that outcome by embracing a few basic “truths” to ensure the content part of a content strategy works as it should.

• Writers create better than they refine. Writers seek to articulate ideas through explanations, narratives, characters, examples and analogies – sometimes all in the same piece. Writers also can justify a dozen different ways to say the same thing. Truth be told, undisciplined writers can take a good story or message and make it confusing, exhausting and even complicated – and that’s not a strong value proposition for building an audience. But first, allow the creators create. Refinement is what follows. 

• Writers need content editors. Content editors find the essence of the story and cut the extraneous stuff and fluff that doesn’t add value or paint a clearer picture. They uphold clarity and conciseness. Through their work they make writers better, which is why writers need to consider them as their most trusted allies. Perhaps you’ve noticed that more of your favorite or trusted sources for news are publishing content riddled with typographical errors. The rush to "break the news" has always been there. But with the steady decline of copy editors, writers and the brands they represent look sloppy in the process – and that works to erode confidence.

• The self-sufficient writer/editor is a rare species. Writers can wear the content editing hat to a point, but eventually they become too close to the subject matter to be critical. This clouds objectivity and a willingness to be brutally honest about the content. Writers need objective content editors who embrace the red pen.

• Self-editing is an oxymoron. The knee-jerk reaction is to get those comprehensive ideas out there in all of their informed glory – right now. In contrast, few individuals and organizations are willing to chew on those ideas, let them percolate, and hone their potential through rigorous editing. Because writers know what they intend to say, it leads to reading over how things actually appear during the self-editing process. Self-editing is no substitute for a second set of eyes.

Six considerations for your content creation process

As a content creator, you need a process to develop your best work. These six content creation considerations help us get better and they can do the same to improve any piece of content you create.  

• Write. Then walk away. Get your ideas down and then walk away. Engage your mind on other work and return to it later so the ideas become fresh again. A refreshed eye will reveal what ideas are worth keeping and expanding upon, and those that just aren't clicking. If you’re working against a content calendar, don’t wait until the day of publishing to start writing. Give yourself some space to contemplate what you've developed.

• Edit. Then edit again. Slash unnecessary descriptors. Remove extraneous metaphors. Limit your number of examples. Look at each sentence and ask – What must stay? What can go? If it’s helpful, set word count limits to help rein you in.

• Ask for input and seek out a proofreader. These are two different exercises. With input you’re asking for a critical read about the content (content editing) from someone who is knowledgeable about your subject matter and can ask probing questions. In doing this, you’re helping the piece better resonate with your target audience. Finally, ask someone to proofread for grammar, punctuation, syntax, sentence construction, and so on. You don’t need to be an expert grammarian, you just need to have one on your team.

• Focus on being better, not first. Looking to be the first to provide insight on a breaking news story? Good luck. There is a finite window for responsive content in relation to breaking news and a mad rush to be heard. As readers, we quickly reach a saturation point. So ask this instead: what perspectives aren’t being talking about? – and take that angle. You’re more likely to stand out in a sea of sameness that way.  

• Not everything is meant for publication. The process of writing has a funny way of revealing interesting truths. Sometimes that truth is – this isn’t very good or I have nothing new to add to this conversation. Better to keep this work on the shelf than part of an online library that makes it difficult for your audience to find your best work. And who knows, after several good edits and a new angle at a later date, perhaps you can salvage elements of that effort.

• Post and share with confidence. Realize nothing is perfect. There will be ideas and elements you wish you would’ve approached differently when you review your post months from now. But keep this in mind: when you’ve considered your steps to creating better content and remained true to your intent to be helpful and shed new light on a subject, allow yourself to be feel confident knowing that you’ve put forth your best thinking at the time. Your audience will benefit from that kind of effort.    

When pressed with the proposition of creating more content or creating better content, pause and take a look around at what’s being published in your field. Then decide what camp you want to be in and the type of audience you want to cultivate.