Monday, March 12, 2012
Looking Forward
It will be very interesting if some entity buys the Richmond Times-Dispatch now, cleans house, and creates a new newspaper for this city. It's possible to do it, too, in a smaller space than the paper now occupies downtown. It's been done before.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Down to Coupons
The last two times a marketing person called me about resubscribing to the Sunday Times-Dispatch, they pitched it the same way: Coupons. I am missing out on getting the coupons.
It is sad that the advantage of getting a newspaper isn’t getting the news anymore. But how can it be? The news is almost a day old. It used to be television news made it harder to compete, but the newspaper could always claim in-depth coverage. Now, with the Internet, it doesn’t even have that.
What it has is coupons and sales flyers on Sunday. Here’s the problem with the flyers. They create a need in us – okay, more my husband – for things we can’t afford and don’t really need. I would rather he not know too easily what is on sale at Best Buy. If I am actually looking for an item, I can look up the flyers online. Don't suggest items to me. Not in this economy.
And coupons – well, don’t tell me there’s $250 worth of coupons in the paper. That’s if I use every one of them. I don’t need every product every week. There’s lot of coupons for things I’ll never need, like dog food and baby items. The time I spent clipping and organizing them got annoying. And as expiration dates rolled around, I was throwing out three times as many as I was using.
And I really started getting annoyed with the newspaper itself. Didn’t need or want the sports section. Didn’t need or want the depressing classifieds with its lack of help wanted positions. Didn’t need or want real estate sections. Didn’t need or want the brides. That might work in a small town paper, but I don’t know any of these people anymore. Really don’t need or want the obituaries. This is just too sad. The bigger photos make it worse. What I needed was that $20 or $30 I was paying for 13 weeks of papers, so I am still canceled.
And I really started getting annoyed with the newspaper itself. Didn’t need or want the sports section. Didn’t need or want the depressing classifieds with its lack of help wanted positions. Didn’t need or want real estate sections. Didn’t need or want the brides. That might work in a small town paper, but I don’t know any of these people anymore. Really don’t need or want the obituaries. This is just too sad. The bigger photos make it worse. What I needed was that $20 or $30 I was paying for 13 weeks of papers, so I am still canceled.
Newspapers need to stay small. Somehow there are too many employees involved with the business of newspapers, the advertising, the marketing, the bean counters. There’s too many vice presidents and not enough reporters. Newspapers always needed to stay small and focused. They never needed huge buildings, stockholders or board of directors.
Selling itself as a coupon distributor is not going to save the paper. While moving my niece out of the old Morton’s Tearoom building one Sunday, my assignment was to stay outside and keep an eye on the open truck. I also kept an eye on the newspaper boxes outside the YMCA. A person paid for a paper, opened the box, and took all the papers. I assume it was for the coupons. I hope the paper doesn’t think this counts toward circulation.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Latest KO to Newspapers
The state recently asked its employees to come up with ideas on how to save money. The winning entry was to stop advertising state job openings in newspapers. In the past five years, the state spent $17 million on newspaper advertising, only to find out a mere 8 percent of new hires learned about the job from reading a newspaper.
The classifieds section continues to collapse.
The classifieds section continues to collapse.
Friday, June 24, 2011
18 Speakers in a Single Day - The i.e.* Launch
June 23, 2011, I went to two events and heard 18 speakers. That’s a lot of information to take in on one day. Most of it was intended to be inspirational and motivating, and the last four were just a good way to end the day with some laughs about how the media and our culture have changed so much through the computer age.
The first event was the launch of the project i.e.*, which stands for Innovative Excellence. It is funded by the Greater Richmond Chamber of Commerce, whose chairman is currently the president and publisher of the Richmond Times-Dispatch. That cleared up my initial objection as to why he was co-hosting when you don’t think of the daily paper when you think of innovation and excellence. The city’s innovators were invited at a ticket price of $125, including lunch and free parking at Mayo Island. My employer purchased a block of tickets and I was told the day before the event that I was going, so that’s how I came to be there. From talking to others, that’s how many people came to be there, and then some were local artists and activists who had purchased their own tickets. (I saw some online grumbling that the ticket price was prohibitive for others.)
The speakers, called “provocateurs” in the program, were primarily self-employed in business or artistic ventures. We heard from a mural artist, an ad agency kingpin, a writing coach, a portrait artist, a bio-diesel taxi company, a leadership preschool founder, a marketing agency founder, a musician who had branched out into commercials, an event artist, a child prodigy, a college think tank organizer, and a photo booth self-expression artist. In a session of break-out sessions, there were more entrepreneurs to choose from, including people who had started their own businesses or acquired grants to do innovative work.
I can’t find fault with anyone’s success story because their success speaks for itself. And yes, we all can be inspired by it. It would take much space to recount the stories I heard, so I will reference a couple. Both had to do with the nude female form. Being proud of your body, and thus yourself, even if you do not conform to what society considers beautiful, was the theme of the morning nudity. A painter and her subject both were generous enough to display huge, almost photo-realistic, paintings of themselves naked, with strategic parts not at all concealed. The point, I gather, was through this, you can become comfortable with yourself. Still, the crowd chatter during the breaks indicated some people were uncomfortable by the paintings. The models were very brave to do this outside an art gallery setting.
But when an artist in the afternoon session showed a slide of her nude self-portrait, I wondered what kind of double-standard we had here. The nude female form, fat or thin, Barbie doll or Rubenesque, has always been art, so we can get away with displaying ourselves as artistic. But if you’re a man, you have to resign your congressional seat.
During the event, the audience was urged to shout out the common British kudo “Brilliant!” whenever they heard anything that deserved an amen. Let me list what I thought was brilliant about this event.
Staging it at the furniture store, La Dif. There was adequate parking available two blocks away on Mayo Island. The furniture store had plenty of chairs and sofas. For one break-out session, we sat on beds in the bed area. The store’s loading dock, where they also stage patio furniture, was our lunch location. The chair I sat in had a $3,000 price tag on it, marked down to $1,299. I would not pay that much for that chair. It was not $1,299 worth of comfortable. Still, I saw a lot of furniture and decorative items that dazzled me. If I had money, I would shop here. Score for La Dif.
Each speaker was limited to 15 minutes, and each introduced the next one. That kept the program moving. You didn’t have the host returning repeatedly to introduce the next speaker. If you were uninterested in a speaker, you didn’t have long to wait for a change. The audio-visuals were top notch. I didn’t see one slide presentation that looked like a Powerpoint.
Lunch was brilliantly served family style. Instead of waiting in a slow-moving buffet line like so many cattle, you just picked a seat and served yourself from bowls of food on the table. Brilliant! And we had roaming entertainers during lunch including a belly dancer and a really annoying duo of masked men pushing baby carriages and playing loud baby crying noise. I assume this was performance art.
Our ice breaking activity, which also served as a leg-stretching break, was to find other people in the audience who had been issued the same color pencil at registration that we had. Then your little group took a walk around the building to chat and find interesting things to look at. During our walk, we were instructed to email a photo back to the mothership of an interesting find. This was an amusing break, even though at first it was chaotic.
Each group was embedded with someone from the organizing committee to ensure we stayed focused. Being on the peach colored pencil team gave me an investment in the program from the onset. In the afternoon activity, we did the opposite. We had to form a group with all different colored pencils, and then crowdsource the answers to three problems posed to us.
We were snacked like preschoolers throughout the day. There was the traditional bread products, coffees and sodas in the morning, but in the afternoon, we had more beverages, bowls of candy, and sherbet cups to fight off the after lunch drowsies. Thanks! Seconds before the closing, staff ran through the audience with cans of ice cold Switch beverages, another great promotional opportunity, and we all gave a closing toast to the day, which forced you to open the drink right then and sample it. No sneaking it home and giving it away or forgetting about it. Brilliant!
So if I didn’t come away with any new resolves to liberate myself through artistic nudity or start my own shoe store, I did get some great ideas for how to organize and pace a conference.
A couple of hours later, I was in a seat at the Barksdale Theater for the monthly Social Media Club of Richmond meeting, which I will also not go into detail about. It was an amusing, delightful, funny look at the wonderful, Internet-connected world we all live in now, the wealth of information at our fingertips, the memes, the crowd-sharing, the opportunities to make our mark in the world of public opinion, presented by young people who are doing jobs that 20 years ago did not exist. I could see real effort and thought went into their presentations, and it was a relaxing and comforting way to end the day.
The first event was the launch of the project i.e.*, which stands for Innovative Excellence. It is funded by the Greater Richmond Chamber of Commerce, whose chairman is currently the president and publisher of the Richmond Times-Dispatch. That cleared up my initial objection as to why he was co-hosting when you don’t think of the daily paper when you think of innovation and excellence. The city’s innovators were invited at a ticket price of $125, including lunch and free parking at Mayo Island. My employer purchased a block of tickets and I was told the day before the event that I was going, so that’s how I came to be there. From talking to others, that’s how many people came to be there, and then some were local artists and activists who had purchased their own tickets. (I saw some online grumbling that the ticket price was prohibitive for others.)
The speakers, called “provocateurs” in the program, were primarily self-employed in business or artistic ventures. We heard from a mural artist, an ad agency kingpin, a writing coach, a portrait artist, a bio-diesel taxi company, a leadership preschool founder, a marketing agency founder, a musician who had branched out into commercials, an event artist, a child prodigy, a college think tank organizer, and a photo booth self-expression artist. In a session of break-out sessions, there were more entrepreneurs to choose from, including people who had started their own businesses or acquired grants to do innovative work.
I can’t find fault with anyone’s success story because their success speaks for itself. And yes, we all can be inspired by it. It would take much space to recount the stories I heard, so I will reference a couple. Both had to do with the nude female form. Being proud of your body, and thus yourself, even if you do not conform to what society considers beautiful, was the theme of the morning nudity. A painter and her subject both were generous enough to display huge, almost photo-realistic, paintings of themselves naked, with strategic parts not at all concealed. The point, I gather, was through this, you can become comfortable with yourself. Still, the crowd chatter during the breaks indicated some people were uncomfortable by the paintings. The models were very brave to do this outside an art gallery setting.
But when an artist in the afternoon session showed a slide of her nude self-portrait, I wondered what kind of double-standard we had here. The nude female form, fat or thin, Barbie doll or Rubenesque, has always been art, so we can get away with displaying ourselves as artistic. But if you’re a man, you have to resign your congressional seat.
During the event, the audience was urged to shout out the common British kudo “Brilliant!” whenever they heard anything that deserved an amen. Let me list what I thought was brilliant about this event.
Staging it at the furniture store, La Dif. There was adequate parking available two blocks away on Mayo Island. The furniture store had plenty of chairs and sofas. For one break-out session, we sat on beds in the bed area. The store’s loading dock, where they also stage patio furniture, was our lunch location. The chair I sat in had a $3,000 price tag on it, marked down to $1,299. I would not pay that much for that chair. It was not $1,299 worth of comfortable. Still, I saw a lot of furniture and decorative items that dazzled me. If I had money, I would shop here. Score for La Dif.
Each speaker was limited to 15 minutes, and each introduced the next one. That kept the program moving. You didn’t have the host returning repeatedly to introduce the next speaker. If you were uninterested in a speaker, you didn’t have long to wait for a change. The audio-visuals were top notch. I didn’t see one slide presentation that looked like a Powerpoint.
Lunch was brilliantly served family style. Instead of waiting in a slow-moving buffet line like so many cattle, you just picked a seat and served yourself from bowls of food on the table. Brilliant! And we had roaming entertainers during lunch including a belly dancer and a really annoying duo of masked men pushing baby carriages and playing loud baby crying noise. I assume this was performance art.
Our ice breaking activity, which also served as a leg-stretching break, was to find other people in the audience who had been issued the same color pencil at registration that we had. Then your little group took a walk around the building to chat and find interesting things to look at. During our walk, we were instructed to email a photo back to the mothership of an interesting find. This was an amusing break, even though at first it was chaotic.
Each group was embedded with someone from the organizing committee to ensure we stayed focused. Being on the peach colored pencil team gave me an investment in the program from the onset. In the afternoon activity, we did the opposite. We had to form a group with all different colored pencils, and then crowdsource the answers to three problems posed to us.
We were snacked like preschoolers throughout the day. There was the traditional bread products, coffees and sodas in the morning, but in the afternoon, we had more beverages, bowls of candy, and sherbet cups to fight off the after lunch drowsies. Thanks! Seconds before the closing, staff ran through the audience with cans of ice cold Switch beverages, another great promotional opportunity, and we all gave a closing toast to the day, which forced you to open the drink right then and sample it. No sneaking it home and giving it away or forgetting about it. Brilliant!
So if I didn’t come away with any new resolves to liberate myself through artistic nudity or start my own shoe store, I did get some great ideas for how to organize and pace a conference.
A couple of hours later, I was in a seat at the Barksdale Theater for the monthly Social Media Club of Richmond meeting, which I will also not go into detail about. It was an amusing, delightful, funny look at the wonderful, Internet-connected world we all live in now, the wealth of information at our fingertips, the memes, the crowd-sharing, the opportunities to make our mark in the world of public opinion, presented by young people who are doing jobs that 20 years ago did not exist. I could see real effort and thought went into their presentations, and it was a relaxing and comforting way to end the day.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Wanted: Business Model for a New Century
I was thinking about the “business model” of news and advertising on news vehicles the other day. It hasn’t changed in more than 50 years, except the television network evening broadcast went from 15 minutes to 30.
Otherwise, it still comes on around dinner time, wrongly assuming that we have gone straight home from work. It wrongly assumes we are all the man of the house who can sit down and pay attention to the broadcast, unwinding at the end of the day while the wife prepares dinner.
It still assumes we will give the numerous commercial breaks equal attention because to not see them would involve getting out of the chair and walking to the TV to change the channel.
It still assumes we pick the news channel based on the looks of the reader, and that this person reading the news to us is an actual, trustworthy journalist who knows what they are talking about because they covered the story, instead of a “spokesmodel” type who is just standing in the camera lights reading a script prepared by a behind-the-scenes segment producer. He or she is good at reading without looking like they are reading, but probably have very little understanding of what the story is about.
Many of these so called reporters, especially on cable news shows, look like the type of young woman who in another time or place, would have been automobile showroom models, cocktail waitresses or stewardesses. How do they suddenly have the gravitas to deliver breaking news to me like Walter Cronkite or Edward R. Murrow?
Local news is particularly maddening the way it religiously gives equal time to sports and weather, whether or not there is any, and the way the anchors start each story by saying their co-anchor’s name and looking at them as if they are the only person they are telling the story to and the rest of us are just spying on this chat. Seriously, anchors, you never have to look or speak to the other anchor sitting with you. We know they’re there. Just read me the news. I’m over here. Look in the camera at me.
Television as a whole still assumes we do not own DVRs or remotes. They think we will not get up to change the channel, so they program based on strong lead-ins, one show leading into a better show, which is teased throughout the first show as something you won’t want to miss, so don’t touch that dial. But I am watching this a week later on my TiVo, and I only recorded the one show I wanted to watch, not all the ones following it. Conan O’Brien was dethroned because the Jay Leno Show was too weak a lead-in to the 11 p.m. local news, and so that left even fewer people to stay tuned for Conan. So they put Leno back after the news where he’d be too weak a lead-in for Jimmy Fallon, but oh wait, everyone DVRs Fallon anyway, so it doesn’t matter.
The print newspaper business model is: we are interested in the news even though it is yesterday’s news and we already heard it somewhere, and anything that happens after 11 p.m. or so, didn’t happen as far as you know as you read your morning paper. I assume you are reading it at work because who has time in the morning to read it at the house? You will want to read it on great big sheets of paper, the size of aprons, that you will have to fold and refold into a more manageable 8x10 size each time you turn the page. Or you will have to clear off a big space on a table to spread it out, as if you are about to do a papier-mache project. Doesn’t this sound archaic?
The newspaper assumes you will look at the ads instead of skipping your eye over to headlines, looking for a story of interest. It assumes a third of your interest, no matter who you are, will be about sports. It assumes you do your grocery shopping on Thursdays, and gardening on weekends. It assumes you still cut out recipes and save them in little boxes.
Ten years ago I worked on a local paper that covered two zip codes. We had two high schools in those zip codes, so our single sportswriter only had to cover the games of two schools. A good portion of our readership identified with one or the other of those schools, so we had a 40/60 chance of a sports story being of interest (factoring out people with no kids or no connection at all to local schools). A daily paper covering a large metropolitan area might have 30 high schools, and the readership interest in any one football player from one of those schools can be what? And yet time and energy is still spent covering local sports.
News and journalism needs a new business model. I see the neighborhood blogs creating something promising, but the major media need to figure it out, too.
Otherwise, it still comes on around dinner time, wrongly assuming that we have gone straight home from work. It wrongly assumes we are all the man of the house who can sit down and pay attention to the broadcast, unwinding at the end of the day while the wife prepares dinner.
It still assumes we will give the numerous commercial breaks equal attention because to not see them would involve getting out of the chair and walking to the TV to change the channel.
It still assumes we pick the news channel based on the looks of the reader, and that this person reading the news to us is an actual, trustworthy journalist who knows what they are talking about because they covered the story, instead of a “spokesmodel” type who is just standing in the camera lights reading a script prepared by a behind-the-scenes segment producer. He or she is good at reading without looking like they are reading, but probably have very little understanding of what the story is about.
Many of these so called reporters, especially on cable news shows, look like the type of young woman who in another time or place, would have been automobile showroom models, cocktail waitresses or stewardesses. How do they suddenly have the gravitas to deliver breaking news to me like Walter Cronkite or Edward R. Murrow?
Local news is particularly maddening the way it religiously gives equal time to sports and weather, whether or not there is any, and the way the anchors start each story by saying their co-anchor’s name and looking at them as if they are the only person they are telling the story to and the rest of us are just spying on this chat. Seriously, anchors, you never have to look or speak to the other anchor sitting with you. We know they’re there. Just read me the news. I’m over here. Look in the camera at me.
Television as a whole still assumes we do not own DVRs or remotes. They think we will not get up to change the channel, so they program based on strong lead-ins, one show leading into a better show, which is teased throughout the first show as something you won’t want to miss, so don’t touch that dial. But I am watching this a week later on my TiVo, and I only recorded the one show I wanted to watch, not all the ones following it. Conan O’Brien was dethroned because the Jay Leno Show was too weak a lead-in to the 11 p.m. local news, and so that left even fewer people to stay tuned for Conan. So they put Leno back after the news where he’d be too weak a lead-in for Jimmy Fallon, but oh wait, everyone DVRs Fallon anyway, so it doesn’t matter.
The print newspaper business model is: we are interested in the news even though it is yesterday’s news and we already heard it somewhere, and anything that happens after 11 p.m. or so, didn’t happen as far as you know as you read your morning paper. I assume you are reading it at work because who has time in the morning to read it at the house? You will want to read it on great big sheets of paper, the size of aprons, that you will have to fold and refold into a more manageable 8x10 size each time you turn the page. Or you will have to clear off a big space on a table to spread it out, as if you are about to do a papier-mache project. Doesn’t this sound archaic?
The newspaper assumes you will look at the ads instead of skipping your eye over to headlines, looking for a story of interest. It assumes a third of your interest, no matter who you are, will be about sports. It assumes you do your grocery shopping on Thursdays, and gardening on weekends. It assumes you still cut out recipes and save them in little boxes.
Ten years ago I worked on a local paper that covered two zip codes. We had two high schools in those zip codes, so our single sportswriter only had to cover the games of two schools. A good portion of our readership identified with one or the other of those schools, so we had a 40/60 chance of a sports story being of interest (factoring out people with no kids or no connection at all to local schools). A daily paper covering a large metropolitan area might have 30 high schools, and the readership interest in any one football player from one of those schools can be what? And yet time and energy is still spent covering local sports.
News and journalism needs a new business model. I see the neighborhood blogs creating something promising, but the major media need to figure it out, too.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
How to Write a Press Release: Don't Write One
There are many articles claiming they can teach you how to write an irresistible press release. There are PR coaches who can webinar you into writing winning releases. Yet it turns out – at least according to a recent Business Wire breakfast panel – that the best press release is none at all. Editors hate press releases.
That was the consensus brought to a room of young -- and now thoroughly shocked -- PR professionals by three print editors – of a daily, a weekly, and a monthly – and one TV reporter.
The Monthly Editor can’t deal with emails at all. Too bad they were invented. She prefers phone calls. The Daily Editor says, “Email has hurt the PR industry.” He gets too many. We have become fat and lazy, pressing our Send button over and over. We need to tailor each email for each editor. Email subject lines should say, “Greg, Open This,” for his name is Greg. Not Gregory, even though that is the name on his placard at the panel table. If you call him Gregory, he will delete your reckless email, because anyone who knows him knows he answers to Greg.
Weekly Editor says if he sees “For Immediate Release,” he deletes it immediately. That is too cliché. So Lois Lane. We need to rise above that. It means everyone in the media is getting it at the same time, and to him, that is not a story of interest. The TV Reporter agrees. She hates “email bombs,” when the same press release hits all the mail accounts in the newsroom at the same time. They delete them without reading them! Delete! Delete! High five!
All the panelists had a specific time of day when they may possibly be available to take your phone call (because after all that, you are not sending emails, right?)
Do not call or email the TV Reporter or Daily Editor after 4 p.m. They are on deadline. They do not want to be bothered. The Weekly Editor is on deadline Friday and Monday. He won’t even answer his phone then! Don’t pretend to be his mother!
The TV Reporter says here’s a secret for you. We love Direct Messages on Twitter. (DMs, if you know your way around Twitter.) All the TV reporters chatter all day long on Twitter, which is true since I follow a lot of them. They tweet each other when they’re sitting next to each other in the newsroom. And they don’t get that many DMs. DMs pop up on their phones instantly! So your press release needs to be 140 characters or less now to send a DM.
Also – sorry to spoil the party, but -- if the reporter isn’t following you, you can’t DM them.
Press releases, if you persist in this foolishness, need to be “extremely well-written and attention-getting.” Your lead is not your boss’ name and title and the fact that he has announced something. Your lead is what he announced. (Your boss will not agree.) They do not need that boilerplate quote in the second paragraph from the boss. They only need to know what exact time he will be sitting by his phone available to answer questions.
Press releases “are gobbledegook; the lead is buried. I’d rather just have bullet points,” says Greg. (My friend, you know, because I call him Greg!)
They hate it when no one can talk to the media until the press release is released. That’s just old fashioned. If you want to connect, you need to reach out to an editor ahead of the press release.
In fact, you need to make friends with reporters and editors. Call them at the appropriate time just to congratulate them on stories that have nothing to do with you. Ask how you can help them. Offer yourself up as a comment source on other stories. Send bagel baskets. Find out where they drink after work.
They all hate attachments. First we have the audacity of thinking we are worthy of the editors opening our email in the first place, and then we task them with opening an attachment! Which could be in a program they can’t even open anyway! What is wrong with putting your news in the body of the email? (I happen to agree with this. A pox on attachments!)
Don’t toy with them with embargoes and exclusives. “We just laugh,” said Weekly Editor, although TV Reporter is so eager for preparation time before she has to go live, she’s actually partial to embargoes. “The worst thing for us is a podium in a room. It doesn’t relate to viewers,” she says.
Oh, how they hate the Podium in the Room. The dry announcement. The officials standing in a semi-circle behind the speaker, hands clasped in front of them. Then the floor is thrown open for questions. No TV reporter wants to ask their brilliantly crafted question and then all the other TV stations get to record the answer! So they don’t ask questions. They wait to rush up to the spokesman after he steps away from the Podium in the Room.
“Think about visuals,” says Daily Editor. “We all have websites that use visuals.”
Those websites and tablet and phone apps are the biggest challenge for the print editors. They have to hire tech guys now to make them. They have to figure this all out. Then they have to figure out how to make us pay for it. They have to learn how to feed the social media beast with fewer personnel.
I rarely see a print representative at these seminars say they are doomed. The Daily Editor boldly declares “print will still be around 30 years from now,” a safe statement since neither he nor I will be around to call him out on it.
Then they opened the floor to questions and the PR professionals tried to think of new ways to sneak their news into the media.
Expert columns?
Nope. They’re too often written above the average reader’s head (which for most print, is 7th to 9th grade). It takes too much time to edit them down.
Next question: But I called and called and called you, Ye Who Put Stock in Personal Phone Calls, and you don’t return my calls. How is calling better?
Then Daily Editor suddenly reverses himself on the email position. “I find emails better because I can answer them at 11 o’clock at night.”
Wait, what? What was that? So emails are good now? You actually don’t have time to answer our calls either? I swing around to see if the fresh faced PR pros sitting behind me are thoroughly confused, if hands are shooting up, but they are still stunned about all the deleting and ignoring they just heard. No one calls shenanigans!
Next question: What is the real relationship between account executives and editors? When we talk to editors, should we mention our account executive? Should we mention what a big advertiser we are?
No! No! No! They will hang up on you. They will laugh. They will ignore your email bombs and your attachments, and your ill-timed calls. There is no relationship whatsoever between advertising and news, even in these dire financial times.
I hear this from news people all the time, and every time I write about it, I mention my own personal experience as an editor and reporter when, yes, the publisher actually did care very much about advertisers. The publisher, with the Managing Editor on a short leash trotting right behind, would come storming down the hallway into my office to tell me to play nice or kill a story or cover a story. Yes, they did. When an advertiser made threats, all hell actually would break loose. (Maybe not on the Hanover Herald Progress under the late Jay Pace. I heard he was different. But they made a lot of their money printing other people’s papers.)
But every time I say this, everyone says I am wrong, delusional, crazy. That doesn’t happen where I work, they say, even when it turns out I worked for the same company they do now. The trick is, PR people, you don’t ever say anything to a news editor about being an advertiser. If they treat you mean, then you tell your account executive, who tells the sales manager, who tells the vice president of sales, who tells the executive editor, who tells the managing editor, who releases the Kraken on that section editor’s ass, because the times, they are tough. Even so. Amen.
Okay, quick, how many times did I make an outdated Kraken reference? No peeking!
(Also, not included here is the devastating tale one editor told of thoroughly humiliating and demeaning a Florida restaurant owner who thought he might be interested in her new restaurant opening in "the area," only to find out it was opening in Reston, and he made sure she knew what an ignorant waste of his time she was in the most scathing, long drawn out way.
"Have you ever heard of the Internet?"
"Have you ever heard of Google maps?"
"Have you ever looked at a map?"
"Do you realize Reston is NOWHERE NEAR RICHMOND?"
There was time for that phone call. You could have heard a pin drop in the room. Maybe it would have played better at the Funny Bone.)
That was the consensus brought to a room of young -- and now thoroughly shocked -- PR professionals by three print editors – of a daily, a weekly, and a monthly – and one TV reporter.
The Monthly Editor can’t deal with emails at all. Too bad they were invented. She prefers phone calls. The Daily Editor says, “Email has hurt the PR industry.” He gets too many. We have become fat and lazy, pressing our Send button over and over. We need to tailor each email for each editor. Email subject lines should say, “Greg, Open This,” for his name is Greg. Not Gregory, even though that is the name on his placard at the panel table. If you call him Gregory, he will delete your reckless email, because anyone who knows him knows he answers to Greg.
Weekly Editor says if he sees “For Immediate Release,” he deletes it immediately. That is too cliché. So Lois Lane. We need to rise above that. It means everyone in the media is getting it at the same time, and to him, that is not a story of interest. The TV Reporter agrees. She hates “email bombs,” when the same press release hits all the mail accounts in the newsroom at the same time. They delete them without reading them! Delete! Delete! High five!
All the panelists had a specific time of day when they may possibly be available to take your phone call (because after all that, you are not sending emails, right?)
Do not call or email the TV Reporter or Daily Editor after 4 p.m. They are on deadline. They do not want to be bothered. The Weekly Editor is on deadline Friday and Monday. He won’t even answer his phone then! Don’t pretend to be his mother!
The TV Reporter says here’s a secret for you. We love Direct Messages on Twitter. (DMs, if you know your way around Twitter.) All the TV reporters chatter all day long on Twitter, which is true since I follow a lot of them. They tweet each other when they’re sitting next to each other in the newsroom. And they don’t get that many DMs. DMs pop up on their phones instantly! So your press release needs to be 140 characters or less now to send a DM.
Also – sorry to spoil the party, but -- if the reporter isn’t following you, you can’t DM them.
Press releases, if you persist in this foolishness, need to be “extremely well-written and attention-getting.” Your lead is not your boss’ name and title and the fact that he has announced something. Your lead is what he announced. (Your boss will not agree.) They do not need that boilerplate quote in the second paragraph from the boss. They only need to know what exact time he will be sitting by his phone available to answer questions.
Press releases “are gobbledegook; the lead is buried. I’d rather just have bullet points,” says Greg. (My friend, you know, because I call him Greg!)
They hate it when no one can talk to the media until the press release is released. That’s just old fashioned. If you want to connect, you need to reach out to an editor ahead of the press release.
In fact, you need to make friends with reporters and editors. Call them at the appropriate time just to congratulate them on stories that have nothing to do with you. Ask how you can help them. Offer yourself up as a comment source on other stories. Send bagel baskets. Find out where they drink after work.
They all hate attachments. First we have the audacity of thinking we are worthy of the editors opening our email in the first place, and then we task them with opening an attachment! Which could be in a program they can’t even open anyway! What is wrong with putting your news in the body of the email? (I happen to agree with this. A pox on attachments!)
Don’t toy with them with embargoes and exclusives. “We just laugh,” said Weekly Editor, although TV Reporter is so eager for preparation time before she has to go live, she’s actually partial to embargoes. “The worst thing for us is a podium in a room. It doesn’t relate to viewers,” she says.
Oh, how they hate the Podium in the Room. The dry announcement. The officials standing in a semi-circle behind the speaker, hands clasped in front of them. Then the floor is thrown open for questions. No TV reporter wants to ask their brilliantly crafted question and then all the other TV stations get to record the answer! So they don’t ask questions. They wait to rush up to the spokesman after he steps away from the Podium in the Room.
“Think about visuals,” says Daily Editor. “We all have websites that use visuals.”
Those websites and tablet and phone apps are the biggest challenge for the print editors. They have to hire tech guys now to make them. They have to figure this all out. Then they have to figure out how to make us pay for it. They have to learn how to feed the social media beast with fewer personnel.
I rarely see a print representative at these seminars say they are doomed. The Daily Editor boldly declares “print will still be around 30 years from now,” a safe statement since neither he nor I will be around to call him out on it.
Then they opened the floor to questions and the PR professionals tried to think of new ways to sneak their news into the media.
Expert columns?
Nope. They’re too often written above the average reader’s head (which for most print, is 7th to 9th grade). It takes too much time to edit them down.
Next question: But I called and called and called you, Ye Who Put Stock in Personal Phone Calls, and you don’t return my calls. How is calling better?
Then Daily Editor suddenly reverses himself on the email position. “I find emails better because I can answer them at 11 o’clock at night.”
Wait, what? What was that? So emails are good now? You actually don’t have time to answer our calls either? I swing around to see if the fresh faced PR pros sitting behind me are thoroughly confused, if hands are shooting up, but they are still stunned about all the deleting and ignoring they just heard. No one calls shenanigans!
Next question: What is the real relationship between account executives and editors? When we talk to editors, should we mention our account executive? Should we mention what a big advertiser we are?
No! No! No! They will hang up on you. They will laugh. They will ignore your email bombs and your attachments, and your ill-timed calls. There is no relationship whatsoever between advertising and news, even in these dire financial times.
I hear this from news people all the time, and every time I write about it, I mention my own personal experience as an editor and reporter when, yes, the publisher actually did care very much about advertisers. The publisher, with the Managing Editor on a short leash trotting right behind, would come storming down the hallway into my office to tell me to play nice or kill a story or cover a story. Yes, they did. When an advertiser made threats, all hell actually would break loose. (Maybe not on the Hanover Herald Progress under the late Jay Pace. I heard he was different. But they made a lot of their money printing other people’s papers.)
But every time I say this, everyone says I am wrong, delusional, crazy. That doesn’t happen where I work, they say, even when it turns out I worked for the same company they do now. The trick is, PR people, you don’t ever say anything to a news editor about being an advertiser. If they treat you mean, then you tell your account executive, who tells the sales manager, who tells the vice president of sales, who tells the executive editor, who tells the managing editor, who releases the Kraken on that section editor’s ass, because the times, they are tough. Even so. Amen.
Okay, quick, how many times did I make an outdated Kraken reference? No peeking!
(Also, not included here is the devastating tale one editor told of thoroughly humiliating and demeaning a Florida restaurant owner who thought he might be interested in her new restaurant opening in "the area," only to find out it was opening in Reston, and he made sure she knew what an ignorant waste of his time she was in the most scathing, long drawn out way.
"Have you ever heard of the Internet?"
"Have you ever heard of Google maps?"
"Have you ever looked at a map?"
"Do you realize Reston is NOWHERE NEAR RICHMOND?"
There was time for that phone call. You could have heard a pin drop in the room. Maybe it would have played better at the Funny Bone.)
Friday, September 17, 2010
Alter Egos and Just Plain Egos
The Social Media Club of Richmond's September meeting at the Empire Theatre was an exercise in One of These Things Is Not Like the Other. The theme was "Alter Egos, Identities and Covert Operations." There were three panelists who write under other names or who keep their identities shrouded, one who wrote a satirical news Onion-like website with an imaginary staff, and then there was Gene Cox.
Cox, the long-time news anchor for WWBT, has always just tweeted as himself. Maybe he was included on the panel because there was a short-lived parody Twitter account based on him, but it was an unsuccessful attempt because Cox doesn't take his own Twittering seriously, so how can you parody it?
That aside, did anything surprise me? A few things.
I had had some direct messaging exchanges with @thecheckoutgirl where she told me no one would ever confuse her for a boy, despite a blog entry about that very thing happening once at the grocery store where she works. From that I surmised she was buxom. Also, because she told me her bra size.
It was a surprise to find she was the mother of teenagers, after being surprised to learn she was a mother at all when she started a second blog marginally about motherhood at fuckyeahmotherhood.com. (The Check Out Girl blog is an empty shell and all posts are gone, for reasons I don't know. She eluded during the panel to being outed at work, and there is a strange recent post about a really tragic pet death that she introduces as the death of The Check Out Girl, and tries to make funny, but…no, it's tragic and horrible. I hope it's not true.)
It was a surprise to find she was the mother of teenagers, after being surprised to learn she was a mother at all when she started a second blog marginally about motherhood at fuckyeahmotherhood.com. (The Check Out Girl blog is an empty shell and all posts are gone, for reasons I don't know. She eluded during the panel to being outed at work, and there is a strange recent post about a really tragic pet death that she introduces as the death of The Check Out Girl, and tries to make funny, but…no, it's tragic and horrible. I hope it's not true.)
But anyway, seeing her did not surprise me, but we'll revisit it later in Most Awkward Moments of the Evening.
I also knew that Jocelyn Testes-Harder was not a real person. (Really -- the name, think about it -- and redneck women don't usually go by hyphenated names because it is frankly too much writing.). "Her" writing style was too cosmopolitan and educated for the tooth-missing, mullet-haired woman who is the blog's avatar. I wasn't quite expecting the preppy looking man behind her, but I knew it was a man. I was expecting someone more arty looking, not a guy who looks like he works at the bank.
I was surprised Gene Cox feels he has to be careful about what he tweets because his boss and his boss' boss follow him. I would think he is at a point in his career where he is untouchable, but apparently not. He has been instructed, he told us, to just read the news straight and say no more, so tweeting is his outlet for his inner Jon Stewart.
And finally, I was surprised that moderator Jason Roop was such a very adequate singer, and was even more relaxed on stage than Gene Cox, who has spent his life on camera. I knew there was a rehearsal the night before and wondered how in the world you rehearse a moderated panel, but the night ended with a song parody of "Islands in the Stream" where the panelists at first seemed embarrassed as Jason sang about them, but then @thecheckoutgirl stood up and joined in the song just as nicely, so it was all an act. And a good one. I suspect there is a drama club in Roop's past. Or "Glee" is the story of his life.
Other Observations:
Much of the humor (and I am almost tempted to put the word humor in quotes here) of The Checkout Girl, Filthy Richmond and Cafe Darkness is based on being annoyed with their fellow man. They make fun of other people, sometimes very cruelly. And there's an element of self-loathing. Often the humor is vile, (although the value of vile humor is a matter of taste. My husband watches "South Park." It makes me cringe.)
(I am going to give Tobacco Avenue a pass here because its humor is a more benign parody of Richmond and its local celebrities, and is usually tasteful and genuinely funny. Also, Jeff Kelley does not appear to be a young man who loathes himself.)
During the evening, the panel insulted or offended a variety of their fellow men. Woe be to you if you are:
-- Meade Skelton, a true innocent who blogs his wistful musical ambitions in a painfully honest voice and has become a subject of ridicule and amusement to the bar crowd
-- Shoppers at The Check Out Girl's store
-- People who write comments on blogs and don't know how to use apostrophes
-- Mothers of babies proud enough to write about them and post photos
-- Babies in general
-- People on Facebook
-- "Older moms" on Facebook who are relieving the monotony of their lives by playing a little interactive Farmville
-- Co-workers in general everywhere
-- The Toothless
-- Panhandlers who smoke
-- People who tweet about drinking, enjoying, buying, or needing coffee
-- Anyone who has had the misfortune to ask Cafe Darkness on a date, only to be ridiculed as a moron as she live tweets the date. "I've got to let other people know how dumb you are," she said. I felt bad for that guy. It's never fun to be the butt of a joke, and such cruelty seems high-schoolish.
I have to congratulate Gene Cox who consistently returned the conversation back to more uplifting themes, and he was the only one I saw frequently quoted on my Twitter stream during the conference.
"There's a drive in all of us to say something…and we want someone to hear it," he said. He enjoys the brevity restrictions of Twitter. Blogs too often lend themselves to overwriting, and all the panelists agreed that they were blogging less since they went on Twitter. Blogging is like...work.
"The older I get, the list of things I worry about gets shorter," Cox said, maybe to offset the others who had spiraled through all the annoying things they suffer in their lives that needed to be insulted or denigrated by tweets.
Cox also told stories about how his tweets complaining about businesses and service have been noticed by those businesses, which respond with free coupons and apologies. I've had that experience, too, so it's not just because he's famous.
And now, what you've been waiting for:
The Most Awkward Moments
A guy came out during the middle of the discussion in an elaborate costume of some animal sort and handed out bananas to the panelists for what Roop said was a "potassium break." The audience did not laugh, maybe because they were waiting for the punchline, which didn't come. The distribution of the bananas was the joke but something was missing. Later during the panel, Cox unintentionally delivered the pay-off when he asked, apropos of nothing, "Why am I holding a banana?" That got a big laugh, and was widely tweeted, and of course, makes no sense whatsoever if you saw the tweet. You had to be there, I guess.
Jeff Kelley backed himself in a corner when asked to discuss the most surprising thing he had learned from the panel, and he said The Check Out Girl's early blog entries were written in such a "sultry" way, he was expecting someone entirely different. He was expecting a "hot blonde."
Which is another way of saying; you are not hot.
But I knew what he was trying to say because I had noticed it, too. Men who I knew were happily married would tweet back to @thecheckoutgirl in such a flirtatious way, I used to wonder what's going on here? They were too obsessed with finding out who she was and where she worked. Something about the way she wrote about her cranky, rude customers was indeed, as Kelley awkwardly tried to explain, tinged with a mysteriously alluring subtext. And then one by one, the flirtatious tweeting stopped. I surmised they had found her and been disappointed. Around that time, her style took a scatological and vagina-monological turn that was so raw, I had to back away, too. She peppered her panel talk that evening with a few shocking comments, like a reference to menstrual blood pouring into her shoes at work. While that stuff happens, the telling of it seldom turns men on, and I felt like rushing on stage and escorting the startled Gene Cox to a safe place.
But she also said, in a revealing moment, that it's all a parody of other Tweeters and bloggers, and testing jokes for a possible stand-up comedy act. (A local Lisa Lampanelli?) Her "real pain" she doesn't write about. And now it all fits, because real deep pain often travels with this kind of no-boundaries humor. I can relate. I know whenever I am relatively content or feel safe, or possibly even happy, my ability to write funny eludes me.
And the last Most Awkward Moment was when Cafe Darkness accused Gene Cox of unfollowing her. He looked apologetically puzzled. Then she offered a possible explanation. She had just fired off a tweet full of "fuck yous" and "fuck thats," and poof, he unfollowed her. She appeared offended that Mr. Cox might choose to exercise his right to not want her invectives clogging up his Twitter stream. How dare he?
One thing the younger generation doesn't understand is they've grown up in a society where the "ef" word is as common as "phooey" and they've been inundated with it in movies to the point where it has no shock value anymore. But to older people like Mr. Cox, and myself, it still resonates like a slap in the face. We still imagine we live in a Polite Society where such language is reserved for extreme moments, the verbal equivalent of an atomic bomb over Nagasaki. I actually feel beat up when someone peppers their conversation with obscenities. It's not a good feeling, so if I can walk away from it with a simple unfollow click, I do, too. Again, I wanted to rush on stage and escort Mr. Cox to a safe place where he still had the right to unfollow a cursing girl and not be chastised publicly for it.
So, the Twitter hashtag #smcrva was aglow afterward that it was the best SMCRVA meeting ever, and it actually was. We don't need guest speakers to come in and tell us how to do it. We just want to talk about ourselves. Isn't that what social media is?
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