Entries by Erin

Announcing Contents magazine

The conversation about content strategy, online publishing, and all the subfields and specializations that surround them is flourishing. Wonderfully, it’s no longer possible to keep track of the posts, comments, talks, and events that take place every week within our world. And it’s not just that we’re voluble: our community is extraordinarily generous with knowledge, help, and professional support.

After benefiting from this conversation in so many ways, we’d like to give something back. A bounded collection of ideas and connections. A place to catch up with the movement of our fledgling industry and the much older fields from which it emerged. An editorial lens.

In this spirit, I am so pleased to announce that the first issue of Contents magazine will be online this fall. In it, you’ll find analysis, practical how-to information, essays, event information, and links to the most interesting things going on in and around our field.

Krista Stevens and I are joined in our editorial efforts by Ethan Marcotte, our creative director, and production director Erik Westra. Visit our temporary HQ to learn more, and follow us on Twitter for updates and info. This is going to be so much fun.

 

Now Out: The Elements of Content Strategy

My book is out today! And although I wrote a bit about it when it was first announced, I’m going to indulge in just a little more.

A stack of copies of the book

Fruits of labors, via Mr. Santa Maria

I wrote The Elements of Content Strategy because as the internet worms its way further and further into our lives, digital content becomes centrally important to the ways in which we live and work. And it follows that content strategy—the practice of planning for, designing, and managing content—is also getting closer to the center of both web projects and entire organizations.

So I wrote this book in the hope of providing a compact, useful reference—both for those of us already doing content strategy work, and for those who want to know more about working with (or becoming) content strategists. Like the two superb books that precede it at A Book Apart, Elements is meant to be a handbook, in the literal sense, which the OED has, charmingly, as “A small book or treatise, such as may conveniently be held in the hand.”

But it’s also meant to be a book kept close at hand for use during spells of intensive effort. In that way, it’s a book I wrote because I needed it myself, if only to remind myself of things I’d already learned: not just deliverables and processes, but principles, rationales, and traditions that might be called into service when weird new problems arise.

Old-School Publishing for the New World

What can I say about A Book Apart, except that they have been ideal publishers in every way? JeffreyJason, and Mandy do extraordinary work with an attention to editorial rigor and design integrity that is unsurpassed in our field, or most others. It’s also a genuine honor to join Jeremy, Dan, and (soon!) Ethan on the ABA shelf.

Beyond this, though, I hope that the viability of A Book Apart’s approach is a sign of good things to come. On one hand, it’s a very new-school publisher, built on a web-based brand and the ability to sell books directly to readers with little friction. But on the other hand, it’s a very old-school house, built on editorial and design values too often abandoned by the traditional presses.

Many of my favorite books of the last few years have been published by small presses like Unbridled, Akashic, Subterranean, and the astoundingly great Small Beer, or by micro-presses like Temporary Culture and Graphics Press. In a moment of economic disaster for so many publishing and media companies, these presses demonstrate that old-fashioned editorial care is still viable if you make it the center of what you do. The existence of publishers like these, within our industry and outside it, fills me with optimism.

I am so grateful to Jeffrey, Mandy, and Jason for giving me the opportunity to write precisely the sort of book I wanted to write, and for making my manuscript into such a beautiful little object. I hope the result proves useful enough to reward their confidence.

The Forecast is Awesome

That was a hell of a year. It has been a ridiculously wonderful experience to participate in and learn from the giant, piñata-studded, slightly tipsy party that has been content strategy in 2010. (On the personal side, I’ve had a lot of wonderful conversations and read a lot of spectacular things. And rather miraculously, the members of my immediate family are ending the year alive and in good health.)

Although I’d like to drag you all under the slightly crispy mistletoe for a big smooch, that would be weird and we’d all get colds. So instead, here’s a redacted but enthusiastic list of things coming up on my end in the first quarter of next year:

  • A gobsmacking content-related project from Arc90 that I helped out with, a bit.
  • The relaunch of Loosecubes, a coworking and indie work/life company. Content freelancers and indie people everywhere have much to look forward to.
  • A new blog series dealing with professional ethics, responsibility, and breaking into the content world. (I’d planned to do it in December, but I’m just going to lie here under a glass of eggnog instead.)
  • That book, which is even now being edited by Ms. Brown.

Also coming in early 2011: an enormous and juicy project for the content strategy community, built in collaboration with two secret co-conspirators you already know and love. More on that in January.

The Best Wishes I Have

To my friends and colleagues who’ve had a 2010 full of triumphs and weddings and babies and bliss, I raise a happy toast.

And to those of you whose 2010 has ranged from challenging to ghastly, here’s the thing: We’ve made it to this point—past the darkest day with special bonus total freaking eclipse—and on to the bonfires and champagne. So keep warm, take comfort where you can, and know that we think of you constantly.

A very sweet new year to all of you. Over and out.

Ch-ch-ch Changes

Anime character wielding office supplies

Let her fix the content or she will maim you with these common office supplies. (Image source.)

A few weeks ago, before the snowpocalypse, I visited the lovely people at Brain Traffic in their Minneapolis lair. Now, a visit to Brain Traffic central is a lot like walking in on the planning session at the beginning of a heist movie, except that you don’t expect everyone to get shot in the end, and the fridge is full of cupcakes.

The thing about Brain Traffic’s people is that there are a lot of them. In one place. All of them scarily smart, and all working on content strategy projects as though it were a perfectly natural thing to do.

Specialization: Not Just for Insects

In the last ten years, I’ve had the extraordinary good fortune to work with some of the smartest and most talented people in the web world, generally as the only dedicated content person on a web design team. It’s been wonderful, personally and professionally, and I’ve learned a ton about other disciplines. On larger projects, though, I’d begun to wonder how much more I could accomplish for clients (and their readers) with a few more content people.

And in that light, the chance to collaborate with an entire, dedicated team of hardcore content specialists feels a bit like I’ve just discovered that there are OTHER EWOKS IN THE FOREST and they want to make Ewok observatories together and write comic operas.

Jub Jub

So. After a lot of talking and planning and snorting on G-Chat and Skype, I am very pleased to announce that I will be joining forces with Brain Traffic as a senior content strategist working from NYC.

Notes & References

Cognitive, Schmognitive

A few weeks ago, while in the throes of manuscript editing, I wrote a quick post about what I was doing that week. I did so to help demystify content strategy to people who want to know, as the NYC CS Meetup group would have it, what content strategists do all day.

In the post, I mentioned something I’d made for a client project: a diagram that traces the mental path we want to encourage a particular group of site visitors to take. Not specific interactions, pages or tools, but a process of gradual engagement with ideas, eventually leading to the decision to act. I’d never made this particular thing before, and I’d never seen anything quite like it elsewhere.

I can’t show you the thing I made, but here’s an example that I sketched out for an imaginary conservation organization that wants to educate students about habitat loss and related activism when they visit the site to complete school assignments.

Getting from “Pandas eat bamboo!” to “Habitat destruction sucks—how can I help?”

Pretty simple, right? A project with a dozen or a hundred pages and only a few target audiences wouldn’t need something like this. But before I could proceed with the content recommendation for this large, complex, and intellectually crunchy project, I needed to distill all the things we’d been saying and thinking about this audience’s progression through the site’s ideas.

I made it as an internal tool, but when I showed a dim iPhone photo of it to client stakeholders, they found useful, so I ended up including it in my content recommendations.

A Diagram Named Sue

When I showed the client my sketched-out version on my phone and then hastily re-drew it on their whiteboard, I called it a “user engagement model,” which is reasonably accurate, but also jargony. In my blog post, I called it:

a cognitive model that translates pieces of the organization’s mission into a conceptual blueprint for deepening user engagement with the site

That’s both vague and awkward, but it does describe  the thing and what it does—or at least, what it did for me on this project. A Google image search for “cognitive model” produces a variety of hideously formatted diagrams about how people think; the one I made is also about how people think, and specifically how we imagine them thinking their way through the information presented on a website.

But because I didn’t have a non-proprietary example to post, the mention produced confusion. So just to be clear, I’m not talking about a mental model. Nor am I talking about “the features of an information system,” as one commenter suggested.

Have You Seen This Boy? He Is Very Ugly.

I’m certain that I haven’t created anything new by drawing up this diagram when I needed it, and I expect to continue using the tool on other projects that need a nudge toward clarity.

So here’s my question for you, internet: Have you made or used something like this? And if you did, how did you use it? (And what did you call it, anyway?)

Related

Speaking of pandas, go read “An Elephant Crackup?” It’s the single best thing I’ve ever read from the NYT. Since I read it several months ago, few days have passed when I haven’t thought of it.

What Do Content Strategists Do?

Many others have capably defined content strategy. My favorite definitions are these:

content strategy is to copywriting as information architecture is to design
Rachel Lovinger

Content strategy plans for the creation, publication, and governance of useful, usable content.
Kristina Halvorson

And my newest favorite is:

Content strategy is just content planning.
Elizabeth McGuane

Also, Rahel Bailie has a fantastic post about the definition of content itself.

In real life, content strategy falls somewhere between traditional editorial leadership, communication strategy, and information management, all of which have their own distinct connotations. It’s easy for discussions of terminology to float off into abstraction, so instead of talking about “content strategy” or what “a content strategist” does, I’m going to say what this content strategist does.

What I Do

Right now, I’m working on a few projects. One is very large and is a good example of a big, serious CS project, so I’ll talk about it in detail.

I’ve already collaborated on a quantitative and qualitative content audit for this project, which involved many thousands of pieces of content spread across several divisions and databases.

I’ve also already done high-level content recommendations, which included a description of major assumptions and concepts that would affect future content, structural design, visual design, and development choices. These recommendations included:

  • a cognitive model that translates pieces of the organization’s mission into a conceptual blueprint for deepening user engagement with the site
  • proposals for major new communication approaches and content-related features, including initial requirements for a proposed back-end system that would support specific kinds of content creation and management, all of which are linked to goals articulated by the client before and during the project’s initial phases
  • audience prioritization and high-level plans for meeting the content needs of each of the site’s major audiences

Now I’m working on the next round of content strategy work, which will include:

  • detailed discussions of the content in each of the site’s major sections, keyed to the wireframes that we’re developing—this includes clear documentation of the goals, style, format, sources, and upkeep needs of each major class of content on the site, and will eventually turn into content templates
  • notes on new content that needs to be created and existing content that needs to be revised before launch
  • a discussion of the editorial calendars (yep, plural) that will be in place before launch and will guide content creation and review in the future
  • a snapshot of existing web publishing workflows in use throughout the organization and a discussion of new publishing workflow models and processes that the client may wish to adopt
  • a discussion of underlying content-related business rules that affect workflow and content management
  • a proposal for integrating appropriate, useful social/interactive features into various parts of the site

None of this work deals with all the content strategy aspects of off-site content, social media, email, mobile integration, and so on—we haven’t gotten there yet. Someday, there will also be a style guide, much of which will be integrated directly into the CMS and workflow documents so that people can actually see and use it. And all of this work happens in collaboration with the client, with the web consulting team I’m part of, and with a specialist consulting firm acting as our partner on this project.

Edited to add: This project also included a very substantial research phase, which was run by the UX team while I tagged along taking notes.

For two other clients, I’m collaborating on product development. For one of those clients, I’m also developing messages and writing copy. For another, I’m doing ad-hoc project management and sometimes general, old-school web strategy work.

Oh, a certain amount of staring off into space, which turns out to be essential for keeping the brain juicy enough to do all of the above.

That’s what I’m doing now. Strategic and tactical. Planning and execution. Also sometimes cake.

That Thing I Said I Wouldn’t Talk About

Risk game board (world map) and pieces

Never get involved in a content audit in Asia

If you’ve read this blog before, you probably know that I’m an etymology nerd. It’s my main defense against ill-tempered, shortsighted prescriptivism. Here’s a little bonus geek-out.

“Strategy” is derived, of course, from the Greek word strategos, which means, roughly, “general” or “highest ranking military leader.” Strategos is derived from two other Greek words: stratos, which is used to mean “army” but literally means something like “the thing that is spread out” and agos, which means “leader.”1 The OED, bless its adorable face, defines the modern sense of “strategy” as:

The art of a commander-in-chief; the art of projecting and directing the larger military movements and operations of a campaign. Usually distinguished from tactics, which is the art of handling forces in battle or in the immediate presence of the enemy.

Quite.

In Summary

The central message of content strategy in 2010 is that it’s not enough to think tactically about content. To serve our clients and readers, we have to look beyond individual battles and ensure that the whole array of individual campaigns and choices works together to meet a clearly defined set of overarching goals.

Notes

  1. Incidentally, “the thing that is spread out” comes pretty close to defining content on most projects. Considering my childhood obsession with Stratego and Risk, it’s probably no accident that I wound up in this profession.

The Scholar-Curator as Storyteller

Henry Wessells of The Endless Bookshelf quotes on his site a particularly relevant passage on the production of meaning through scholarship and storytelling:

Someone has said that a first-class museum would consist of a series of satisfactory labels with specimens attached. This saying might be rendered : “ The label is more important than the specimen. ” When I have finished reading this paper, you may admit that this is true in the case of the little museum which I have here to show : a basket, a fascicle of plant fibres, a few rudely painted sticks, some beads and feathers put together as if by children in their meaningless play, form the totality of the collection. You would scarcely pick these trifles up if you saw them lying in the gutter, yet when I have told you all I have to tell about them, I trust they may seem of greater importance, and that some among you would be as glad to possess them as I am. I might have added largely to this collection had I time to discourse about them, for I possess many more of their kind. It is not a question of things, but of time. I shall do scant justice to this little pile within an hour. An hour it will be to you, and a tiresome hour, no doubt, but you may pass it with greater patience when you learn that this hour’s monologue represents to me twelve years of hard and oft-baffled investigation.

— Washington Matthews. “Some Sacred Objects of the Navajo Rites,” Archives of the International Folklore Association I (1898); scanned version available via Google Books.

The things in question had significance to the Native American culture from which they came, but not to their new audience. In this passage, Matthews serves as a mediator and the expenditure of his time is added to the objects’ aura,1 marking their importance and worth.

This passage pinpoints my problem with “content curation” as the term is used by bloggers: Simply holding up three or four objects—virtual or otherwise—is no more telling a story than dumping flour, sugar, and eggs onto a table is baking a cake. You have to do the work of contextualization and storytelling if you want the objects to signify.

Tangent: Washington Matthews

Dr. Washington Matthews

Washington Matthews, by the way, was pretty extraordinary. He was a surgeon in the US Army from the 1860s through at least 1890, and became so well known as an amateur linguist and ethnologist that the Smithsonian Institution began sending him out to collect information on Native American languages and cultural practices.

It’s hard to get one’s head around what passed for anthropological “scholarship” on indigenous cultures at the turn of century, but the fieldwork of people like Matthews did more than expand the knowledge of scholars; it was part of the process of establishing for a colonial audience the cultural sophistication and common humanity of subjugated peoples.

In 1896, at a meeting of the American Folk-Lore Society at which the great anthropologist Franz Boas also delivered a paper, Matthews singlehandedly transformed academic opinion on Navajo culture and ritual (emphasis mine):

Dr Matthews referred to Dr Leatherman’s account of the Navahoes as the one long accepted as authoritative. In it that writer has declared that they have no traditions nor poetry, and that their songs “were but a succession of grunts.” Dr. Matthews discovered that they had a multitude of legends, so numerous that he never hoped to collect them all: an elaborate religion, with symbolism and allegory, which might vie with that of the Greeks; numerous and formulated prayers and songs, not only multitudinous, but relating to all subjects, and composed for every circumstance of life. The songs are as full of poetic images and figures of speech as occur in English, and are handed down from father to son, from generation to generation.

— “The American Folk-Lore Society,” The Critic. No. 725 (Jan. 11 1896), p 26; scanned version at Google Books.

The rhetoric is is very calculated, here. In addition to delivering a righteous smackdown to Leatherman, Matthews stakes out territory for Navajo art and culture that aligns them with that ultimate European cultural authority, the ancient Greeks. He’s making a case for the importance of his own work, of course, but he’s also positioning the Navajo as cultural elders, and he’s doing it without reference to the notion of the artless Noble Savage. Coming from a man who served during campaigns against several native tribes in the inland Northwest, that’s an awfully interesting position.

Notes

  1. As in Benjamin, not as in Erial