Observed

New York Times auto writer Lawrence Ulrich sights a Buddhist monastery and sees a connection to how the new BMW 6 Series handles on the winding ocean-side roads of Northern California. Does this willingness to take chances with storytelling suggest anything for the way we handle marketing content for professional service providers?

So, OK, I’ll admit that a journalist covering the auto industry isn’t exactly analogous to someone writing for business readers.  The keyword here, however, is exactly.

Because Lawrence Ulrich has something to offer those of us who order, create and approve content for law firm Web sites, client brochures and such.  As auto writer/critic for The New York Times, Mr. Ulrich takes a technical subject that’s part of everyday life and makes it come alive.

Decide for yourself.  See, for example, whether the wit and intelligence in this piece about BMW’s new 6 Series doesn’t suggest how your looks-and-sounds-the-same-as-everybody-else’s content might acquire some zing and become more engaging.

I could go on and on.  Of all of the things I like about this article, here’s a passage that made me laugh out loud:

With both of those optional onboard systems, along with chunky 20-inch wheels and tires, the 650i felt unflappable along Route 301 near Carmel — almost an affront to the nearby Chuang Yen Monastery, whose Buddhist monks might take one look at the lavish BMW and advise, “Peace comes from within, do not seek it without.”

Yes?

If you write for a living (or think you might want to try), do yourself a favor.  Watch this movie:

What the 50 screenwriters in Tales from the Script (2009) tell me is important for any writer, especially one with a client.  However you define that.

Here are four of the many lessons they offer:

1. Get used to chaos. No matter how sincere the time line and approval commitments, life has a way of showing up.  Things slide,  and before you know it, you’re part of a train wreck.
2. Develop a thick skin. There’s never any way to predict how your work will be received.  Clients are human, and it’s impossible to know who might have a bad day or when.  Plus, people can disagree.  Your take on something might not be their take on something.  Even if it’s personal, don’t take it personally.
3. Great writing alone isn’t good enough. Writing for hire is a team sport.  If you’re not good with people, find something else to do.
4. Don’t quit. It can be discouraging to go through draft after draft after draft…even when you’re getting paid to do it.  Nothing ever gets created, however, without the risk of failure.  Be brave.

The sooner you accept the legitimacy of these things, the happier and more serene your writing life will seem.

When I build a bio page for an attorney, I remind them that getting picked is an emotional process, at least in part. That’s why it’s important to let visitors to your page know they’re dealing with someone who’s more than a list of impeccable credentials.

Carl Aveni, a litigator based in Columbus, Ohio, agrees. Take a look at this recent clip:

Making your bio like a personal story will also make it more readable and set you apart.

PS:  Thanks to Larry Bodine for sharing this clip with me.  Plus, there’s a related post at http://doug-stern.com/blog/2010/11/19/people-buy-from-people/.

What is it that motivates my urge to deliver outstanding customer service? It it economic sustainability? Greater profitability? Is it something more personal, such as a code of ethics? Or, is it something else?

Many years ago, a friend of mine was applying to medical residency programs, including the one at Yale-New Haven Hospital.  “I had never been to Yale,” according to my buddy.  “So, when my train arrived, I grabbed a cab.  I told the driver to take me to the hospital and that I had 45 minutes to get to my interview.” (more…)

"At Foxcroft she was not only a top student but a basketball star and a member of the school’s elite riding club; during her years at Bennington, she became a top New England ski racer. Her father served as chairman of Union Pacific Corporation and built the Sun Valley Resort in Idaho in 1936. Here she honed her racing skills and trained with the women’s Olympic ski team." -- From the Franklin & Eleanor Roosevelt Institute biography for Kathleen Harriman Mortimer

This morning’s New York Times obituary for Kathleen Harriman Mortimer reminded me of the benefits of having a leisure class.  Of course, there was little about her that might be called leisurely.

One of the benefits is having engagingly written obituaries to read.  Obituaries worthy of The Times of London.  ["Noted RAF ace and antiquarian of Etruscan culture dies during Sudanese relief mission," ad arguendo.]

Then there’s Theodore C. Sorensen.  Mr. Sorensen’s Oct. 31, 2010, obituary tells the story of life in sharp contrast to Mrs. Mortimer’s.  He was not born of privilege.  He did not have the advantages or good fortune of rich, powerful, smart and highly capable parents.

Yet, he must have had something going for him.  Because his life became every bit as interesting and full of contrasts and accomplishments as any member of the “leisure class.”

Ted Sorensen reminds me that great content is all around me.  It reminds me that, as a writer, I share in the rewards and burdens of story telling.

Great stories (and engaging content) are all around me.  Provided I look.

Here’s the second in a series of practical how-to writing clips from Doug.  It’s a companion to a blog post.

Aristotle and other classical Greeks got it. They understood how making what we write more real made it more believable.

Every writer wants to be read…and remembered.  So, when you’re about to go down the same old boring, forgettable rabbit hole, think about Aristotle.

It was Aristotle, Plato and other ancient Greeks who began to understand that readers need to sense the reality of a thing in order to better believe it.  Medieval poets and dramatists  picked up on this literary device and eventually named it — verisimilitude…or, literally from the Latin, likeness to truth.

Example?  (more…)

What could ensure a more accurate portrayal of What Happened than having someone there?  Someone who was there and felt what it was like to be there.

That’s what I read when I learned this morning that the United States Marine Corps has an artist in its ranks, a painter deployed to capture combat scenes.  “We have somebody who was there who can tell the story,” according to Col. Robert Oltman, USMC, referring to Sgt. Kristopher J. Battles, the lone remaining Marine combat artist.

Why not photography?  I’ll let the New York Times answer that one. (more…)