Generally it’s great to be offered money. Yet one of the trickiest questions for me to field is: “we’ve got £5000 to spend on the website by the end of this term; what should we do?”.
There are two reasons this is a tricky one for me.
The first is that I don’t think money will buy the things that will ultimately make the site better for users. The websites I look after are simply not as useful, clear and focused as they could be by a long stretch (although some are trying). Making them better involves a lot of time and a lot of effort – really thinking about what the site is for, reviewing everything that’s on it to make sure it should be there, editing each and every page so that it’s accomplishing a purpose, monitoring and evaluating and feeding back in and starting the cycle again – but not very much money at all. The offer to throw money at it feels at best like an attempt to take a shortcut through all the hard slog; at worst, like sidelining the site itself in favour of some whizzy new expensive gadget.
The second reason is that, with the current proliferation of free online services, I struggle to think of a single thing that we would want to do that we couldn’t at least try out for free. Sure, it’s nice to engage more with students, to book events online, to have forums and discussion groups; but we can use Facebook, Eventbrite, Google Groups to accomplish all this. And, yes, there’s something to be said for buying in a bespoke system: it’s likely to be more secure and more customisable, and it will reduce dependence on third party services. But that kind of system needs careful consideration, both in the choice of product and in what we want to do with it. At the moment we’re still exploring what we can do with our online provision, so I see more value in pilot schemes to try out a concept using free services than in buying in something we may never use.
Sadly, I mostly see sums of money being spent on bolt-on gadgets, usually, if I may be so cynical, something a director can get a name for bringing in. It’s not that I mind having the bolt-on, if for no other reason than that the publicity surrounding it will likely bring more traffic to the website.
But our websites are, at a very basic level, failing our users; and what they need is time, thought, and effort to change them. I wish people would stop trying to throw money at them.
Monday, 19 October 2009
Sunday, 19 July 2009
Caveat Lector closes down
I was saddened to hear, a while ago now, that Dorothea Salo, writer of the library blog Caveat Lector, has decided that Cav Lec is no longer the way for her to go.
I came to Cav Lec not so long ago; it got onto my radar when one of the library blogs I follow - possibly librarian.net - congratulated Dorothea on her Library Movers and Shakers award earlier this year. So I'm not a die-hard, I-was-there-when-the-first-post-came-out sort of reader; that blog and I were only really getting acquainted when it closed down. Nor is the topic of Cav Lec - open repositories - one that I have any particular thoughts about, professionally speaking.
Sometimes you meet someone who is a passionate, articulate expert about something you know nothing about. Someone you'd listen to all day, if you could; someone who brings their topic to life for you. That's what Cav Lec was for me. An unexpected tour of the engine room from the guy who's worked there man and boy; or, perhaps better, from the guy who pours his life into the machines knowing full well that the corporate suits who run the place don't get why the engine room's important.
Which was another thing I liked about Cav Lec - the current of anger running through it. In a world where half of us are too polite or careful to truly say what we think and the other half scream out their opinions with no real attempt to engage or persuade others, Dorothea was the rare exception. Points thought out, beautifully articulate, but no punches pulled: if something was wrong, it was, in so many words, just plain wrong.
Dorothea knows repositories; speaks out for them; draws you into them. From what she says, that's part of the problem with Cav Lec - she's ended up as sole figurehead for an area of the profession that desperately needs a community of advocates. I guess you get tired of shouting when yours is the only voice you can hear; and you begin to wonder if no one else is pitching in because you're shouting too loud.
Whatever her reasons, and for what it's worth, I'm gonna miss Caveat Lector. I'm still reading her stuff - she's got a new blog on e-research over at ScienceBlogs (The Book of Troogol). I'm sure it will be wonderful - but it won't be the same.
I came to Cav Lec not so long ago; it got onto my radar when one of the library blogs I follow - possibly librarian.net - congratulated Dorothea on her Library Movers and Shakers award earlier this year. So I'm not a die-hard, I-was-there-when-the-first-post-came-out sort of reader; that blog and I were only really getting acquainted when it closed down. Nor is the topic of Cav Lec - open repositories - one that I have any particular thoughts about, professionally speaking.
Sometimes you meet someone who is a passionate, articulate expert about something you know nothing about. Someone you'd listen to all day, if you could; someone who brings their topic to life for you. That's what Cav Lec was for me. An unexpected tour of the engine room from the guy who's worked there man and boy; or, perhaps better, from the guy who pours his life into the machines knowing full well that the corporate suits who run the place don't get why the engine room's important.
Which was another thing I liked about Cav Lec - the current of anger running through it. In a world where half of us are too polite or careful to truly say what we think and the other half scream out their opinions with no real attempt to engage or persuade others, Dorothea was the rare exception. Points thought out, beautifully articulate, but no punches pulled: if something was wrong, it was, in so many words, just plain wrong.
Dorothea knows repositories; speaks out for them; draws you into them. From what she says, that's part of the problem with Cav Lec - she's ended up as sole figurehead for an area of the profession that desperately needs a community of advocates. I guess you get tired of shouting when yours is the only voice you can hear; and you begin to wonder if no one else is pitching in because you're shouting too loud.
Whatever her reasons, and for what it's worth, I'm gonna miss Caveat Lector. I'm still reading her stuff - she's got a new blog on e-research over at ScienceBlogs (The Book of Troogol). I'm sure it will be wonderful - but it won't be the same.
Sunday, 12 July 2009
Marketing: not always the answer (or, don't put lipstick on a pig)
I recently did some usability testing on the websites that I manage, and in each case asked someone from the website's department to come along, observe and take notes. If they observed any difficulties, they were to note them down, as well as any ideas they had for making improvements.
On one of the sites, users were having problems downloading the Access to Learning Fund (ALF) form. This form is not available through a text link like other forms on the same page. Instead, you click on an image of the form in the right-hand column of the page, and the form opens. My solution to the problem? Add in a text link to the form. The department staff member's solution? "Ensure that the profile of the ALF form is raised across the University, so that the form is immediately recognisable".
I see this a lot. Whenever I tell a department that some of their pages are not being used, or that only three links out of the fifty they have on their "useful websites" list have been clicked more than once, the answer is always "we'll do more marketing". Or "those pages should link from the main page"; or "we'll put different links at the top every week". If something is not working on a site, marketing is the answer.
As far as I can tell, there are two factors at play here. One is that people simply do not want to take down content that they have put up. If you suggest that underperforming pages ought to be deleted, people are going to look for ways in which the page can be given a new lease of life. The other is that focusing on making the website better and easier to use throughout - which, in general, does encourage traffic - is a hard slog, and not a particularly sexy hard slog at that. Much more fun to throw a load of money at a new, exciting marketing initiative than go through each and every page review it to make sure it's written to a clear purpose.
I use the following lines of reasoning a lot, to try and change minds:
On one of the sites, users were having problems downloading the Access to Learning Fund (ALF) form. This form is not available through a text link like other forms on the same page. Instead, you click on an image of the form in the right-hand column of the page, and the form opens. My solution to the problem? Add in a text link to the form. The department staff member's solution? "Ensure that the profile of the ALF form is raised across the University, so that the form is immediately recognisable".
I see this a lot. Whenever I tell a department that some of their pages are not being used, or that only three links out of the fifty they have on their "useful websites" list have been clicked more than once, the answer is always "we'll do more marketing". Or "those pages should link from the main page"; or "we'll put different links at the top every week". If something is not working on a site, marketing is the answer.
As far as I can tell, there are two factors at play here. One is that people simply do not want to take down content that they have put up. If you suggest that underperforming pages ought to be deleted, people are going to look for ways in which the page can be given a new lease of life. The other is that focusing on making the website better and easier to use throughout - which, in general, does encourage traffic - is a hard slog, and not a particularly sexy hard slog at that. Much more fun to throw a load of money at a new, exciting marketing initiative than go through each and every page review it to make sure it's written to a clear purpose.
I use the following lines of reasoning a lot, to try and change minds:
- You can't market everything
It is logically impossible to give every page in your site a prime position on your main page (unless you have a bare handful of pages, that is). So you will still need to decide what to highlight. And some pages will still be left behind. What can you do with those, except choose to improve them or to get rid of them? - Marketing is one-off and time-limited
Most marketing initiatives for web pages are one-off projects - a banner, a leaflet, posters, or a "feature" in a high-traffic part of the university website. These generate a burst of excitement, and can work really well for pages that are particularly relevant at a certain time of year: exam stress pages are a great example. But for most pages, you still need to find a way to transform the burst of excitement into long-term use. - Marketing can only lead the horse to water
Marketing can lead people to a particular page. But if that page is low-quality, difficult to get through, uninformative and untidy, you've wasted their time and your money.
Wednesday, 1 July 2009
Four marketing blogs for information people
Meredith Farkas wrote a post last April on marketing, and why library schools should teach it. It really struck a chord with me. I don't think I fully realised, until I started working in information, how little of my day I would spend on the work of managing information, and how much, instead, on selling my skills, marketing my service, and advocating on behalf of my users. Seriously, I think my time is split 80/20 between persuading people that something needs doing or that they should be paying attention to something that has been done, and actually doing stuff. On a good day.
I wasn't taught marketing at all in library school (unless perhaps there was a nod to it in our Management module); what little I know, I've picked up from my own reading.
Blogs in particular have been an amazingly valuable source of inspiration. The great thing about a blog is, it's not a humongous block of text you have to take in all at once. Posts are usually bite-size (or at least article-size) and, if you don't have time to read one, no worries, a new post will be along in a couple of days. That means I can tailor my professional development to suit my free and busy times. And on top of that, reading a number of blogs means I get a range of ideas and viewpoints; one marketing text is unlikely to deliver the same variety.
But enough about why I read blogs - if you need any more persuading read @ekcragg's excellent post on the topic. Without further ado, the marketing blogs that I have found useful (some are more web-related than others):
Seth Godin
I love this blog because the posts are daily, short, and almost unfailingly give me something to think about. Seth advocates the type of marketing where you develop relationships with your users, actually care about what they want, and generally try to be a good sort. He also attacks what to me are some of the failings of educational settings: the need to be everything to everyone, and the fear of doing something that no one else is doing.
Josh Klein web strategy
This one I read because the posts are more substantial, and tend to give solutions (or at least, methods) rather than just interesting thoughts. Josh's take on web content management is that the key ingredient is your passion about what you are writing; he is currently posting a series on writing a great blog.
Online marketing expert
In real life, James is the person who set me on the path to being a web content person; I've had many a latte with him while we discussed the ins and outs of good web practice. He is passionate about his job, and this comes across in his posts, which provide a good basic introduction to web/online marketing as well as the odd amusing rant :-).
Tom Fishburne
I like this one - which is a management blog, but has a lot to say about marketing - because as well as the (knowledgeable, insightful) post you get a funny little cartoon at the top for light relief.
I wasn't taught marketing at all in library school (unless perhaps there was a nod to it in our Management module); what little I know, I've picked up from my own reading.
Blogs in particular have been an amazingly valuable source of inspiration. The great thing about a blog is, it's not a humongous block of text you have to take in all at once. Posts are usually bite-size (or at least article-size) and, if you don't have time to read one, no worries, a new post will be along in a couple of days. That means I can tailor my professional development to suit my free and busy times. And on top of that, reading a number of blogs means I get a range of ideas and viewpoints; one marketing text is unlikely to deliver the same variety.
But enough about why I read blogs - if you need any more persuading read @ekcragg's excellent post on the topic. Without further ado, the marketing blogs that I have found useful (some are more web-related than others):
Seth Godin
I love this blog because the posts are daily, short, and almost unfailingly give me something to think about. Seth advocates the type of marketing where you develop relationships with your users, actually care about what they want, and generally try to be a good sort. He also attacks what to me are some of the failings of educational settings: the need to be everything to everyone, and the fear of doing something that no one else is doing.
Josh Klein web strategy
This one I read because the posts are more substantial, and tend to give solutions (or at least, methods) rather than just interesting thoughts. Josh's take on web content management is that the key ingredient is your passion about what you are writing; he is currently posting a series on writing a great blog.
Online marketing expert
In real life, James is the person who set me on the path to being a web content person; I've had many a latte with him while we discussed the ins and outs of good web practice. He is passionate about his job, and this comes across in his posts, which provide a good basic introduction to web/online marketing as well as the odd amusing rant :-).
Tom Fishburne
I like this one - which is a management blog, but has a lot to say about marketing - because as well as the (knowledgeable, insightful) post you get a funny little cartoon at the top for light relief.
Friday, 26 June 2009
Open Day liveblogging
I was part of an experiment to liveblog our University undergraduate Open Day. If you're curious, this was the result. Some thoughts of mine follow, in no particular order; bear in mind that the project was not mine so I don't know what the background/constraints may have been.
Personally, I think that the finished liveblog has more than a bit of charm. It is, perhaps, a little long to go through in its entirety; perhaps the two days should have been separated. But it is a chatty and visual record of the Open Day, and gives people who did not attend - or those who couldn't get to everything - a flavour of what was going on around campus. It was made available during the day via plasma screens that were set up in the main display areas.
I realised today that I should have set up a second account to Twitter the Open Day from, rather than using @amelialuzzi. I don't usually separate work and play on Twitter, partly because I don't think they're incompatible and mostly because it stops me from writing anything I wouldn't want my employers reading. But spamming one's friends with a work event is never a good idea, so I set up a new account today. Many apologies for those who followed me through yesterday.
The tool we used - ScribbleLive - was impressive. Easily allowed us to add Twitter accounts to our event, which we only used to add our own accounts but could just as easily been used to find other people attending the event and add their tweets to the liveblog. Another nice touch is that you don't have to register with ScribbleLive to login on the site - you can just use your Twitter, Facebook, or OpenID login. Slight glitch when it turned out that the new Twitter account I set up to blog the second day wouldn't upload. But I got an impressively fast response from their support desk - all fixed in just over an hour.
If the project had a weakness, it was that we hadn't sorted out exactly what we were hoping to achieve and whom the liveblog was for. That's not surprising considering it had been set up as a chance to test a new technology. But it resulted in posts aimed at a mix of audiences. There were information posts - "this talk starts in 15 mins" - which were useful to people attending on the day but say nothing to people reading remotely or people reading after the fact. There were a range of photographs and tweets about cool stuff happening which have an all-audience appeal. And there were videos, which could only be accessed from the website, so would not have held much interest for people following on the plasma screens. We were running an information service and a marketing campaign as well as archiving the Open Day for people who did not attend; concentrating on just one of these aspects might have resulted in a tighter effort.
But maybe I'm being overly fussy here. Much of the charm in the liveblog comes from the fact that it represents a number of styles, points of view, and interests. I think each of us did a good job of finding things we were genuinely interested in, and putting that interest across. It worked very well as a team effort, and was a great experiment to take part in. I hope they let me do it again next time :-).
Personally, I think that the finished liveblog has more than a bit of charm. It is, perhaps, a little long to go through in its entirety; perhaps the two days should have been separated. But it is a chatty and visual record of the Open Day, and gives people who did not attend - or those who couldn't get to everything - a flavour of what was going on around campus. It was made available during the day via plasma screens that were set up in the main display areas.
I realised today that I should have set up a second account to Twitter the Open Day from, rather than using @amelialuzzi. I don't usually separate work and play on Twitter, partly because I don't think they're incompatible and mostly because it stops me from writing anything I wouldn't want my employers reading. But spamming one's friends with a work event is never a good idea, so I set up a new account today. Many apologies for those who followed me through yesterday.
The tool we used - ScribbleLive - was impressive. Easily allowed us to add Twitter accounts to our event, which we only used to add our own accounts but could just as easily been used to find other people attending the event and add their tweets to the liveblog. Another nice touch is that you don't have to register with ScribbleLive to login on the site - you can just use your Twitter, Facebook, or OpenID login. Slight glitch when it turned out that the new Twitter account I set up to blog the second day wouldn't upload. But I got an impressively fast response from their support desk - all fixed in just over an hour.
If the project had a weakness, it was that we hadn't sorted out exactly what we were hoping to achieve and whom the liveblog was for. That's not surprising considering it had been set up as a chance to test a new technology. But it resulted in posts aimed at a mix of audiences. There were information posts - "this talk starts in 15 mins" - which were useful to people attending on the day but say nothing to people reading remotely or people reading after the fact. There were a range of photographs and tweets about cool stuff happening which have an all-audience appeal. And there were videos, which could only be accessed from the website, so would not have held much interest for people following on the plasma screens. We were running an information service and a marketing campaign as well as archiving the Open Day for people who did not attend; concentrating on just one of these aspects might have resulted in a tighter effort.
But maybe I'm being overly fussy here. Much of the charm in the liveblog comes from the fact that it represents a number of styles, points of view, and interests. I think each of us did a good job of finding things we were genuinely interested in, and putting that interest across. It worked very well as a team effort, and was a great experiment to take part in. I hope they let me do it again next time :-).
Friday, 8 May 2009
Professional identity outside the library
When I started this blog, I chose the name "outside libraries" because of a feeling I had and still have about working in information: that it is really difficult to maintain an identity as an information professional when you're not working in a library. I've put off writing about this in favour of sharing my experience of web content management. But as I am now on the CILIP blog landscape, the criteria for which include that my blog "demonstrate an awareness of wider professional issues", it seems a good time to write about the issue I named the blog after.
I got into librarianship through a part-time job in one of the libraries at my University, which hired students to supervise the library out of office hours. Although I liked reading and, by extension, going to libraries, I wasn't then considering a career in the profession. And I might never have, except that I was offered a shift managing the counter during office hours to replace a member of staff one day a week. Once I started hanging out with librarians, I got a sense of the profession which went beyond - far beyond - the (frankly boring) tasks that it was my job to do. Librarians were not just expert cataloguers; they were advocates, helpers, educators. They stood for something, with a quiet determination that soon convinced me librarians were AWESOME and I wanted to be one.
Fast forward four years: I am in my second professional post, managing information in a university Careers Service. It's not a library, and at first I can't put my finger on the difference. Books? Check. Website? Check. Enquiries desk? Check. Cataloguing and classification? Check. I'm still using the same information management skills that I've been using all along. What I've lost is the sense that I stand for something and that people around me respect me for that. "Information", where I work, is something that you file and tidy - an admin task. Though I do my job well and am respected for doing so, it is respect for the person in the role, not for the role itself.
Forward another two years to my current post as a web content manager. In contrast to my previous workplace, my colleagues recognise the need for professional skills in my post. But the skills they think I am using are "web skills", a mix of technical savvy, fearlessness in the face of HTML, and expertise in tools such as Facebook. The content management side - which is the bulk of my work, and which uses the professional skills I have built up as a librarian - is barely noticed.
In my roles outside libraries, I have felt forced to choose between being a professional and being an information expert (aka librarian). Using my librarian skills meant I was classed and treated as admin; to be considered a professional, I have had to take a role where my information skills are overlooked. Though I still take personal pride in myself and my chosen profession - I still introduce myself to people as a librarian - it's difficult to maintain a sense that, as a member of that profession, I stand for something outside my immediate role.
I don't know how much of this stems from my job being an isolated information role, how much from the profession's focus on libraries as the place to manage information, how much on my personality and how much on the poor understanding the world has of information roles. I'd be interested to hear from others who work in information outside libraries.
I got into librarianship through a part-time job in one of the libraries at my University, which hired students to supervise the library out of office hours. Although I liked reading and, by extension, going to libraries, I wasn't then considering a career in the profession. And I might never have, except that I was offered a shift managing the counter during office hours to replace a member of staff one day a week. Once I started hanging out with librarians, I got a sense of the profession which went beyond - far beyond - the (frankly boring) tasks that it was my job to do. Librarians were not just expert cataloguers; they were advocates, helpers, educators. They stood for something, with a quiet determination that soon convinced me librarians were AWESOME and I wanted to be one.
Fast forward four years: I am in my second professional post, managing information in a university Careers Service. It's not a library, and at first I can't put my finger on the difference. Books? Check. Website? Check. Enquiries desk? Check. Cataloguing and classification? Check. I'm still using the same information management skills that I've been using all along. What I've lost is the sense that I stand for something and that people around me respect me for that. "Information", where I work, is something that you file and tidy - an admin task. Though I do my job well and am respected for doing so, it is respect for the person in the role, not for the role itself.
Forward another two years to my current post as a web content manager. In contrast to my previous workplace, my colleagues recognise the need for professional skills in my post. But the skills they think I am using are "web skills", a mix of technical savvy, fearlessness in the face of HTML, and expertise in tools such as Facebook. The content management side - which is the bulk of my work, and which uses the professional skills I have built up as a librarian - is barely noticed.
In my roles outside libraries, I have felt forced to choose between being a professional and being an information expert (aka librarian). Using my librarian skills meant I was classed and treated as admin; to be considered a professional, I have had to take a role where my information skills are overlooked. Though I still take personal pride in myself and my chosen profession - I still introduce myself to people as a librarian - it's difficult to maintain a sense that, as a member of that profession, I stand for something outside my immediate role.
I don't know how much of this stems from my job being an isolated information role, how much from the profession's focus on libraries as the place to manage information, how much on my personality and how much on the poor understanding the world has of information roles. I'd be interested to hear from others who work in information outside libraries.
Wednesday, 29 April 2009
Twitter - better than a conference
Along with @nearly_everyone_else, I have spent most of today glued to my monitor, following the #cilip2 tag on Twitter. In case you're not in the know, the key facts:
Firstly, I am able to follow the talks at CILIP 2.0, without an expensive trip down to London. A number of people who are actually there are tweeting as Phil and Brian speak, so I can get the main points of what is being said in real time. And because I am still able to do some work, and am not spending money on travel, my workplace fusses a lot less about my participation.
Secondly - in case you were wondering why video/audio isn't a better solution - I can discuss what is said with other participants, also in real time: if an interesting comment comes up, the discussion can start amongst us virtual participants in a way that it simply can't amongst real-life ones. I've heard it said, often, that the best bit of a conference is the bit where you end up talking to other participants in the hallway. Following #cilip2 on Twitter has had the feel of that.
Thirdly, and this is something that Twitter does exceptionally well, I can easily connect with any of the people talking about CILIP 2.0. It's as if, at a real-life conference, you could monitor all the conversations, decide which people you found most interesting, approach them without feeling you're interrupting something, have a chat, and then continue having those chats regularly when you are back in the workplace. I know it can happen, but, at least to me, rarely with more than one or two people per conference. Today, I think I've expanded my professional network by about 25%. And, granted, the ties aren't all that binding - but I now have a way of keeping an eye on what they're talking about, and engaging them when I feel I have something to add. It's a great starting point for building a more solid professional relationship.
- Twitter is a service that allows you to post your thoughts (a.k.a. "tweets") to the world, as long as you can get them into 140 characters.
- Text in the format #keyword is used in tweets to tag them. There are a number of services that allow you to see all the tweets that have a specific tag.
- CILIP is the library and information professional organisation.
- Someone important at CILIP made the mistake of dismissing web 2.0, the whole profession went into uproar, CILIP have now got Phil Bradley and Brian Kelly a.k.a. important internet and information/library types to lead a discussion today on CILIP and web 2.0.
- This discussion has the tag #cilip2 since the full stop in #cilip2.0 makes Twitter cry.
Firstly, I am able to follow the talks at CILIP 2.0, without an expensive trip down to London. A number of people who are actually there are tweeting as Phil and Brian speak, so I can get the main points of what is being said in real time. And because I am still able to do some work, and am not spending money on travel, my workplace fusses a lot less about my participation.
Secondly - in case you were wondering why video/audio isn't a better solution - I can discuss what is said with other participants, also in real time: if an interesting comment comes up, the discussion can start amongst us virtual participants in a way that it simply can't amongst real-life ones. I've heard it said, often, that the best bit of a conference is the bit where you end up talking to other participants in the hallway. Following #cilip2 on Twitter has had the feel of that.
Thirdly, and this is something that Twitter does exceptionally well, I can easily connect with any of the people talking about CILIP 2.0. It's as if, at a real-life conference, you could monitor all the conversations, decide which people you found most interesting, approach them without feeling you're interrupting something, have a chat, and then continue having those chats regularly when you are back in the workplace. I know it can happen, but, at least to me, rarely with more than one or two people per conference. Today, I think I've expanded my professional network by about 25%. And, granted, the ties aren't all that binding - but I now have a way of keeping an eye on what they're talking about, and engaging them when I feel I have something to add. It's a great starting point for building a more solid professional relationship.
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