In social media, patience is spelled with five W's

(This post first appeared in The Independent Journalist, a blog on freelancing by the Society of Professional Journalists.)

In a perfect world, our words shine like jewels the first time we write or say them.

The reality is, they demand special consideration before displaying them in public. For one thing, so many terms in English have multiple meanings; for another, so many readers own distinct perspectives and biases. Ask 10 people to read the same sentence, and they’re likely to offer 10 slightly different interpretations.

That’s why, in our electron-fast, social media age, extra seconds spent pondering our pedantry before tapping the Send button can prevent embarrassment and thus preserve credibility.

So, at a time we’re still weighing New Year’s resolutions, or wondering whether to uphold the ones we’ve made, consider putting patience high on the list. Armed with it, writers and editors more easily catch spelling errors, check or recheck facts, change tone, even adjust attitudes — particularly their own.

The trick, of course, is finding patience where none existed. Hours spent banging out social media posts as fast as they come to mind can cultivate writing that’s reflexive, not reflective.

It may help then to install social media speed bumps of a sort — a set of objectives that forces introspection. For this, we could adapt journalism’s famous five W’s:

Who — Think first, “Who am I trying to reach?” Though social media networks permit users to group their followers, most users don’t, and their networks are a mishmash of friends, colleagues and acquaintances. The result: just one post intended for a small group of followers could send others packing. Craft posts with the broadest possible appeal, frame edgier posts with self-effacing humor or courtesy, and restrict the hardest commentary to direct messages.

What — Make sure the point of a post is clear and consistent with the facts. Go back through other people’s posts, check associated Web links and references to see whether those people are interpreting the information correctly, and whether you’re doing the same and not relying on conjecture. Only then can you safely answer the question, “What am I trying to say?”

When — Speed is a drug in social media; we assume the faster we post, the more certain we are to ride the leading edge of news. Blame this behavior in part on traditional media, which instilled the belief that “scoops” or “beats” on breaking news were just as important as the information itself. In truth, no newspaper shut down and no TV station went dark from not having enough scoops. Today, the Web is rife with humor and shame over errors by news organizations that moved too fast to gather facts. Thus, the answer to “When should I post?” ought to be, “After I have all the facts.”

Where — The term “social media” is as broad as the horizon. It encompasses numerous networks, each having its own best practices and tolerances. Still, we consider Facebook, LinkedIn, Twitter and others to possess the same reach and intent. But there’s a saying: Facebook is for people you already know, Twitter is for people you want to know, and LinkedIn is for people you need to know. Learn the point and purpose of each social network, then you’ll be able to answer “Where should I post?”

Why — I’d like to think everything I say via social media is important. We all do. Nevertheless, each of us encounters users who think otherwise. That constituency dwindles though with solid answers to “Why should I post?” Whereas flippant or rhetorical commentary only attracts more of the same, social engagement founded on research and reportage is shared and re-shared more widely. 

The three R's of Twitter literacy

(This post was adapted from an essay for Gateway Media Literacy Partners, Inc.)

Look around, and look closely. Everywhere, from home to school, work to play, we’re witnessing a disturbing change in America, 140 characters at a time.

That change, heralded by the advent of social media, and the far-reaching, ever-expanding microblog platform Twitter in particular, demands we satisfy ourselves immediately with digital communications, telling our networks of virtual “friends” what we’re doing minute by minute, and expecting the same in return.

Evidence of this abounds as people meander down busy sidewalks with heads bent and eyes focused on the mobile devices in their hands; as pairs and groups in coffee shops, restaurants and other social settings hunch over their technology instead of engaging face to face; as car and truck drivers zoom past effecting the same debilitating pose behind the wheel. Twitter has attracted an audience of well over 500 million people — a number roughly equivalent to the 24 most populous nations combined. They’re tapping out an estimated 3,000 “tweets” per second, as of late 2011. And America tops this tweeting set, constituting about 30 percent of all Twitterers.

We could write off this behavior as endemic to a social species requiring engagement to survive and thrive. But such time-consuming, attention-diverting devotion to information that’s variously pertinent and pedantic instead removes us from society, inserts more space between ourselves and what we believe matters, and achieves the opposite of what we had hoped to accomplish through our amazing digital devices.

What would it take to disrupt this spreading inattentiveness before we’re reduced to letting technology do all the talking for us? Analysts say a refined Twitter temperament that fosters mature social networking is essential to sounding literate online, and the core curricula of that literacy can be boiled down to three R’s:

Restraint — We perceive the window through which we view the Internet as something akin to a one-way mirror when in fact it’s two-way, with potentially thousands of eyes peering back at us at once. Couple that with social media, which entices users to give up details about themselves to bolster their online “brand,” and little about us remains to the imagination.

Regardless, many Twitter users tweet every thought they have every minute they have them. They wax lengthy on food and fashion choices, spill secrets and tell lies, and they do these things either unaware of or indifferent to their network’s varied interests. The result: They lose followers and their networks shrink.

The best tweeters are not so random. Sree Sreenivasan, chief digital officer at Columbia University, says he waits six full minutes between tweets to ponder what he’s saying, how he’s saying it, and the possible reception from his followers. The alternative is a message that misses the mark and bruises his brand. 

“I delete much more than I tweet,” he said during a speech to the Society of Professional Journalists in September.

Research — Award-winning writer and St. Louis native Maya Angelou once said, “When you know better, you do better.” If only the Twitterverse were as insightful.

Instead, Twitter’s mix of immediacy and intimacy have the power to trump good sense. And because tweets are capable of circulating outside user networks, provided that the network's members retweet them to their own audiences, users tend to announce rather than report, hoping their personal knowledge, or wit and wisdom, carry enough water to grow their networks.

But proven knowledge — the kind supported by embedded Web links — yields more fruit because its presence demonstrates the sender’s diligence and effort to sound authentic. Like quotes and facts in a newspaper article, Web links pointing to legitimate and respected information sources help shore up the authority of tweets, and bolster the social media credibility of the sender.

“It’s not just about knowing how,” says noted social critic and modern media analyst Howard Rheingold. “It’s about knowing how and knowing who knows who knows what. ... Know-how is where the difference lies.”

Reciprocity — Social media’s best quality appears in its name. We’re drawn to tools such as Twitter because they’re both personal and public; some part of each of us seems woven into every exchange, intended or not. Moreover, Twitter’s trait of easy accessibility to anyone who uses the service encourages Twitterers to reach beyond their circles of close friends for networking with anyone who sports vast reserves of knowledge and experience.

But to get real value from Twitter, value must be exchanged.

“I think successful use of Twitter means knowing how to tune the network of people you follow, and how to feed the network of people you follow,” Rheingold says. “... If you don’t put out, you don’t get back.”

Digital marketing analyst Mike Calloway adds that “one of the greatest benefits of being part of a social network is staying up to date on all of the current events and updates. By providing your audience with information that is relevant and popular, you give yourself and your brand a distinct advantage.”

And when sharing relevant and popular content, “try to share great information that people can find only from you. ... Of course, other people will share some of the same information as you, but you should be a great hub of information that no one but you could provide.”

 

The secrets of great journalism

Recently, I was invited to speak to journalism students at Francis Howell Central High School near St. Louis about the lessons journalism serves up outside the classroom. Here, then, is the presentation I gave, listing practical advice over book-learning:

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'Pay for praise' undermines journalism's credibility

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The crisp suits and tuxedos are put away, the gowns and evening dresses are hung as well. America’s journalists have packed their finest threads for another year, and the shining plaques and embossed certificates that prompted such fashion displays are already up on shelves, bookcases and desktops across this wide nation.

This is because journalism’s two-month season of giving itself awards recently ended; everything from Pulitzers to proclamations went out in rapid order, ranging in purpose from national recognition to just a pat on the back. It’s an unabashedly narcissistic season in which we journalists look back at our work to see what we did best, or did right, this past year, and try to justify among ourselves the value and importance of it.

Absent unimpeachable proof from our readers and viewers that they think we’re doing the right thing, it’s the optimum means of self-gratification available to us.

And yet, the implied veracity has come into question with me. Thanks to a particular incident, I wonder, especially now, how many of those honors truly recognized laudable effort — or whether they are the result of cash guarantees.

I didn’t use to wonder. As president of the St. Louis Chapter of the Society of Professional Journalists, part of my responsibility has been to assist other SPJ chapters in evaluating submissions for their annual awards, so they could avoid the appearance of currying favors from friends and colleagues. To juxtapose even more space between thought and deed, SPJ urges contest administrators to seek that assistance well away from their chapters’ membership areas. The closest chapter I assisted this year was a six-hour drive from me.

This year, my third consecutive as a judge, I volunteered to assess submissions for five different competitions — one of them national and four regional, or two more competitions than last year. Looking back, I’m sure though that one of those chapters won’t ring up my number again.

Before the explanation, a little background: Besides recognizing excellent work and stroking egos, awards contests can rake in a lot of money. Organizers often attach entry fees per submission, ranging from a few bucks to tens of dollars, ostensibly to offset administrative costs but also to generate operating funds for the chapters. For example, imagine a particular award category attracts two dozen entries. Charging $10 per entry nets a fast $240 in pocket for a chapter before even the invitations go out.

Multiply that by, say, 80 categories spread across the spectrum of print, televised and digital media, and the chapter is looking at potentially thousands of dollars to not only spend on impressive looking plaques and certificates to hand out at tony venues where food is served and fashions much nicer than office wear is de rigueur, but also bank a few bucks for other special events, scholarships and professional training. 

This kind of thing is not unique to journalism; awards are handed out in much the same way across the scope of professions, each with its own rationale for assessing fees. One would think though that journalism, prominent among them, eschews guarantees of praise to go with those payments, if only to ensure the notion that its award-giving smacks of the same objectivity attempted in its news coverage.

Think again. As my award-judging obligation wound down I received an email from a contest organizer who was dismayed with my selections — not so much regarding my overall judgment as the lack thereof for a handful of categories. In other words, where I judged the entries to be wholly substandard, I left the category blank, ensuring no award.

“Perhaps I was unclear in my instructions, and for that I apologize,” the contest organizer wrote to me about a week after I made my choices. “These entrants paid the submission fee. We should show that they are getting something for their fee.”

Absent that, he continued, they may decide to not make submissions for future contests. And we need the money; the awards are central to our fundraising efforts.

I tried to shore up my position by reminding him that the five reporting categories I left blank had just one or two entries total for three potential awards — first, second, third and honorable mention — and that the entries themselves were laughably far off the award-winning mark: unenterprising, perhaps culled from batch-distributed public relations announcements and devoid of sourcing that might prove to me the reporters attempted to verify a shred of their PR content. In a couple instances, what struck me was that the florid wording of the original PR release had oozed through into the story.

Granted, I was not certain of the story origins. But after 30 years in this business, much of it spent coaxing good writing from bad, I have come to recognize patterns of writing, and that recognition is fairly bankable.

The awards organizer, perhaps immune to my argument, graciously deflected my concern.

“We appreciate your time and effort,” he wrote back. “Please send back the entries you judged for the categories in question, and we’ll have the awards committee review your decisions.”

I did as advised, and a few weeks later I checked the contest website for the results. Sure enough, there were the categories I had judged and left blank newly filled with winners in each and with carefully worded platitudes attached. The circle of this particular contest remained unbroken, no matter my noble intent.

Maybe I’m may be part of a dwindling contingent that believes awards and honors should recognize true exceptionality. The Pulitzer committee, at least, is a member of this group, charging $50 per Pulitzer-prize entry while not at the same time issuing awards like a supermarket coupon dispenser. That entry fee opens the door to contestants; it doesn’t ensure them one of the silver-and-gold medallions.

When any of us promise awards for the price of entry, no matter the profession, we cheapen not just the award but also the work it was intended to honor. The organizers for all journalism awards need to keep that in mind, lest their efforts to distribute praise and bolster funds also chip away the foundation of journalism’s credibility.

Social media and the news

This spring, I gave a presentation at the Society of Professional Journalists' Region 7 Conference, held this year at Iowa State University in Ames, Iowa, where I discussed briefly how best to implement social media in journalism. There is much more depth to the discussion than this, so consider the presentation a primer, not a guide.

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As social media use in journalism continues to grow, the scope of this discussion and the best practices that go along with it will broaden, to the point where one day may become the central theme of journalism. That's why there's no better time like the present to start the discussion in earnest, and start it with presentations like this one. I hope it helped you in some way, and I encourage input regardless.

Bringing far-flung freelancers together

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(This post first appeared in The Independent Journalist, a blog for freelancers by the Society of Professional Journalists.)

As the market for freelance journalism grows, so too has interest in the evolving tools for that job.

That interest is acute where collaborative journalism is concerned, because simply pitching PDFs of Word documents back and forth via email tends to be a clunky way of doing business in this demanding age of digital interactivity. Now, no matter the distance or purpose, teams of people with shared goals all want to work together as if sitting in the same room.

A relatively new website called Widbook tries to provide that goal-oriented environment and foster a social network to supplement it. Widbook is a writing and editing space that lets people alone or in groups craft book-length projects and shorter stories; insert resources such as photos, videos and animations; and add to or augment contributions by other writers.

Widbook also invites writers and readers to share and tweak favorite developing works, and create libraries of published works whether self-written or from other authors.

Early reports on Widbook, still in beta, call it a “YouTube for books” because of its heavy emphasis on interactivity. The central theme and interface are better suited for collaboration on projects. Writers who prefer to work alone can use Widbook as well, but they’ll miss out on many of its features.

And Widbook is free of charge to register for and use — surely the most attractive feature to freelance writers and hopeful novelists working with meager budgets. The only things that first-time visitors to Widbook need to get started is to create a user name and password. Options include creating a personal profile, linking with Facebook, and selecting favorite literary genres from which to build a library. Members also can send messages and “follow” one another through the site.

Because it’s in beta, Widbook has limitations and quirks. For one thing, it’s not possible to export a finished project to another platform, though that’s expected to come later as the site matures, and it’s not obvious to early users how the social media aspect will supplement the collaboration tools. The interface is also a tad balky with projects running longer than a few chapters.

Still, for collaborative writers and editors, Widbook presents an intriguing new way for collaborative journalists to exchange ideas and bring far-flung talent together in the same room.

Freelancers can be problem-solvers

(This piece first appeared in The Independent Journalist, the freelancing blog of the Society of Professional Journalists.)

Look around. No matter where our eyes land, we see words.

It may be just one small word, such as “off” or “on,” but the process that led to printing the word required someone to come along and write it. Decisions were made, assignments were given and the words we see around us were formed.

If prospective and novice freelancers keep that in mind, the emotional challenge of finding writing and editing assignments will become little easier to take. Understand that the world needs writers of all kinds, and that one of those particular needs is bound to fit a freelancer’s special talent.

Of course, nobody will know that until it’s made obvious to everyone. Thus, self-promotion and marketing are as important as the actual creative actions of writing and editing.

This is tough for most freelancers just starting out. The very notion of having to sell themselves and do it daily takes them out of their writing and editing comfort zones and plops them in front of risk, challenge, uncertainty, frustration — things certain to make even average people squirm and sweat. Worse still, shopping for clients takes time away from the writing and editing processes.

Thus, marketing is where a freelancer’s ego runs up against reality. And repeatedly banging into reality this way can be bruising.

There is, however, one element of reality working in a freelancer’s favor that can cushion the psychological blow and act similarly as a sales tool.

You see, people who know how to use words effectively are, above all else, problem-solvers. They bring to bear talent and wisdom nobody else has or can use in precise ways, and that precision helps answer questions, surmount obstacles and open doors for other people.

Whereas managers organize a given situation and technicians wrestle with the fine details of it, writers and editors are responsible for communicating initial needs, communicating the problem-solving processes, communicating the analysis and conclusions of the final result. And let’s face it, nothing gets accomplished without strong, effective communication at multiple levels.

Thus, freelancers are instrumental. They find and write the words that help address important issues. They are, in essence, problem-solvers. And if prospective freelancers think carefully about this before tackling the onerous task of self-promotion, that task may start to seem less onerous. By pitching themselves as problem-solvers, freelancers expand the definitions of who they are and what they can accomplish. Clients will see them as more than just communicators, too.

It’s a psychological game, certainly, but it’s one all freelancers can win. And once they start to play, it can become much easier to switch their careers from “off” to “on.”

Your first task as a freelancer: Suck it up

(This post originally appeared in The Independent Journalist, the freelancing blog of the Society of Professional Journalists.)

Hall of Fame hockey player Wayne Gretzky is synonymous with excellence on ice, but it turns out he also had superb advice for the prospective freelancer.

"You miss 100 percent of the shots you don't take."

Sure, he meant that about hockey in particular. But in general, Gretzky's wisdom stretches wide to encompass whatever we do in life and prompts thoughts about what we stand to lose when we fail to take chances.

For writers or editors eyeing independence as a way to a life-sustaining career, opportunities abound. Everyone, no matter their skill set, requires help with words, either creating them or crafting them, and your skill in these areas may be all another person or organization needs to convey the optimum message of the moment. Moreover, the market for effective, engaging communications continues to grow exponentially.

Yes, newspapers as a medium are going away, but the demand for what they try to offer their communities — responsible, accurate reporting — has not diminished and in the wake of social media has grown more acute. Besides personal engagement, we as a society also hunger for dispassionate views that help hone those engagements.

So, yes, the opportunities for freelancers are more and varied than ever. And it's time to take your shot.

Your goal, then: suck it up. Don't chicken out.

"But how?" you might ask. "Where should I start?"

The easiest, simplest and perhaps most flippant answer is, "At the beginning." But aspiring freelancers can have trouble distinguishing the well-traveled path from the one least taken. They need advice, however small, and guidance, however approximate, to start moving in the proper direction.

In truth, the beginning can be anywhere. What matters is clearing the path beforehand, accepting sacrifice before reward. Biting the bullet.

Sucking it up.

Here are a few things that must be cleared out of your path:

Procrastination — The phrase, "Do not put off until tomorrow what you can do today," should hang from a sign in front of all freelancers. They are their own bosses, they are their own staff, they are the sources of their own motivation. Workers who are confined to cubicles have their environment as a sprawling reminder to stay busy; freelancers have only themselves. The best help in this area is a schedule that delineates working time and non-working time — and rigid adherence to that schedule. If the working time you set for yourself goes from 6 a.m. to 6 p.m., with two or three breaks spaced between those hours, then stick to the schedule. If you prefer a more liberal structure to the working day, fine. Regardless, work when the schedule says "work," and nothing less.

Distraction — This tends to provoke procrastinate and in general comes in the form of television, video games, social media, peripheral noise and activity, among other things. Remove them, or somehow set them aside, and keep them there. Author Anne Lamott says, "Turn off Twitter. ... And don't clean house." Author Carl Hiaasen wears noise-dampening headphones when he writes. And I, presuming to include myself at their level, gave up television a couple years ago when it became obvious my remote was getting a better workout than my keyboard. Indeed, that sacrifice has helped, if not quite to the extent that I can join Anne's and Carl's company.

On the other hand, silence and isolation may only amplify the ringing in one's own ears, whereas a distraction or two instead stirs the imagination. In author Stephen King's view, "Any day's routine interruptions and distractions don't much hurt a work in progress and may actually help it in some ways. It is, after all, the dab of grit that seeps into an oyster's shell that makes the pearl." In other words, be comfortable: cherish what you can work with, expunge — really expunge — what you cannot.

Surprises — Said expunging speaks to planning. The more one has even the dreary little details of freelancing mapped out, the better one can navigate through or around them. Work flow, illness, budgeting and networking all are issues that take time away from writing and editing but are essential up-front considerations for every freelancer. Attend to small details early and the bigger ones that arise later will be easier to handle.

Generalization — You could write or edit anything and everything with the notion that volume means security. Look around though and you will find that successful freelancers do not have vague notions about what they are doing. They took the time to research the marketplace for needs not already addressed, or rarely so, by other freelancers. They chose specialization and hewed closely to a small number of subjects, educating themselves each day on the finer details of those subjects. Armed with unique knowledge, freelancers can attract expert clients, instead of the other way around.

Boredom — Banality abounds. The key is not letting it slip into our work. A person in a cubicle somewhere may not have that option, but freelancers, as noted above, possess the power to chart their own course. In an earlier post on this blog I noted ways to stay busy between jobs and they are just as effective for helping break out of monotony. However, if the urge to leave freelancing as a career in pursuit of other excitement still seems too tough to shake, try talking through it with other freelancers; they may have been in the same hole and found ways to climb out.

Freelancing should be fun, something you want to do every day. Unless you suck it up and clear the road ahead of obstacles, the fun will seem only further and further away.