Our Industry

I like to think that I was a librarian in another life. Although the strict organization of every single item (heaven!) would have been a perk, the best part of such a job would be all the instances in which I could match up a reader with the perfect book—all the times I could see people’s imaginations come to life because of stories that I found for them.

Yet if you asked me what my dream job would be (and as a recent college grad, I’ve been getting that question a lot lately), I would tell you “storyteller.”

Website projects can be overwhelming for the uninitiated, but they don't have to be.

When engaging a development firm, the two parties are agreeing to work together to create a finished web product in a certain amount of time for a certain budget. There's a lot of interdependency to deliver all those things as expected, and it can be easy for things to go wrong.

This week's newsletter is about going "Back to School," so I'll start with a short bit about school.

It wasn't long ago that I was in school. It's interesting to me that I've spent two-thirds of my life in school, the majority of my time up to this point. But a person twice my age has spent two-thirds of his life out of school, his time defined by what he's done since. It's a funny thing to think about—school becomes less relevant as you get older, to the point that school has almost no relevance to a person in their 90s. Crazy.

It's not often that I have to justify or explain what I do for a living, thank goodness. The advancing prominence of digital marketing has meant this industry is no longer relegated to the ropes, taking rib shots for multiple rounds just to wear down opponents. The downside is that I'm particularly baffled when I come across a business that still views the web in parochial, even dangerous, terms.

This happened last week during a discussion about a company that relies on the decidedly aged technique of in-home sales. They pointedly refuse to allow any type of online marketing, thinking it cold and impersonal—not to mention a threat to their business model.

By now, you've probably heard about Amazon's infamous wolf shirt and its hilarious customer reviews. After all, more than a few media outlets have picked up on the story; it's attained that mythical "viral" status folks talk about in awed tones. The kicker? The shirt's manufacturers are getting the last laugh—because sales have shot up 2,300 percent since the story broke.

While conducting research for our last newsletter about surefire ways to irritate customers and prospects, I decided to conduct a small experiment on my marketing brethren. We're generally good at telling our clients how to reach customers, but what happens when we're the customers?

I'm driving a rental car this week, since last week's drizzle got the roads just slick enough that my car hydroplaned into a street sign. I wasn't injured, but my car needed to visit Doctor Body Shop for the next few days.

The insurance claim and car rental went pretty smoothly; no complaints. Until now.

Last month, I gushed about Tom Martin's Mardi Gras Twitter experiment as an innovative use of this ever-popular micro-blogging service. In that post, I focused primarily on the citizen journalism aspect of his efforts; after learning a little more about his goals and looking over the analysis of the event, I probably should have saved some kudos. Turns out Martin was ambitious enough to try and change perceptions about Mardi Gras—and it looks like he succeeded.

Dear direct marketer:

I recently became a homeowner, and I couldn't be happier with the purchase. Yes, after years of bunking down in apartments, duplexes, and rented houses—not to mention one brief stint in a converted garage (thanks, Ma!)—I get to come home to my own place. I've found, however, that owning a home presents unique frustrations, problems that go beyond the expected and have implications for what I do for a living.

Authenticity is something we believe in around here—notwithstanding recent activities to the contrary. We're not the only ones talking about this, of course; consumers have long craved personal and meaningful service from the corporate world. The way to foster this, we believe, is to restore conversation to the marketplace—something a static page on a website doesn't necessarily do.