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.
Wednesday, 1 July 2009
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.
Monday, 23 March 2009
Website and online - not the same thing
I've heard quite a few service managers where I work say that they see the website as "a way of delivering our service 24/7 at any location". I don't think that can happen, because our website is a collection of static information, and the service that we deliver is an advice service with live advisers. The managers believe it can happen because they think that "the website" and "online" are the same thing.
Two points here. Firstly, a static information-based website will not allow you to deliver what your real-life staffed advice service does. Sure, if your staff are spending a lot of time answering questions like "what are your opening hours?" then a website will take some of the load off. But there are situations where people will want to talk to a real person, because they want the human contact.
And a good adviser can answer almost any question, even the subtle and complicated ones. The website shouldn't even be trying to do that. The most effective websites are geared towards top questions and tasks, and refer people with more particular needs to - you guessed it - a real person.
Secondly, "online" doesn't always mean the website. Facebook and Twitter are online. Skype's online. Instant messaging services are online. Our Virtual Learning Environment is online, as is the information portal that many students use to get to e-mail. E-mail's online, too. Delivering your service online should mean a lot more than adding content to your website.
You can deliver, online, a service that is very similar to your in-person staffed service. Catch is, you'll need to think about and staff the online service. You'll need to put someone on e-mail, or IM, or Facebook, or whatever means you are using to talk to people one-on-one. You can't just upload a bunch of information onto the website and hope it will be as good as an adviser.
On the bright side, using online tools - not just the website - you truly can begin to offer a service 24/7 and at a distance. And wasn't that what you wanted?
Two points here. Firstly, a static information-based website will not allow you to deliver what your real-life staffed advice service does. Sure, if your staff are spending a lot of time answering questions like "what are your opening hours?" then a website will take some of the load off. But there are situations where people will want to talk to a real person, because they want the human contact.
And a good adviser can answer almost any question, even the subtle and complicated ones. The website shouldn't even be trying to do that. The most effective websites are geared towards top questions and tasks, and refer people with more particular needs to - you guessed it - a real person.
Secondly, "online" doesn't always mean the website. Facebook and Twitter are online. Skype's online. Instant messaging services are online. Our Virtual Learning Environment is online, as is the information portal that many students use to get to e-mail. E-mail's online, too. Delivering your service online should mean a lot more than adding content to your website.
You can deliver, online, a service that is very similar to your in-person staffed service. Catch is, you'll need to think about and staff the online service. You'll need to put someone on e-mail, or IM, or Facebook, or whatever means you are using to talk to people one-on-one. You can't just upload a bunch of information onto the website and hope it will be as good as an adviser.
On the bright side, using online tools - not just the website - you truly can begin to offer a service 24/7 and at a distance. And wasn't that what you wanted?
Wednesday, 18 March 2009
It's a website, not a place
Most managers where I work believe that our website's purpose is to be a online copy of their physical service. This is, to me, a fundamental misunderstanding of what the web is for; and one which has wide-reaching consequences.
The prevailing metaphor at work is that of the website as, literally, a site: an extra location in which a service is delivered. Both managers and clients would expect a service to be the same whatever physical site it's delivered at; managers would also expect to have a large measure of control over the behaviour of users at a physical location. These expectations carry over to the web.
To ensure consistency of service across the "sites", any object that is present at a physical site must be put online; any information that would be given out by a staff member, likewise. When the department creates a poster, it's put online as a pdf: it's on the wall at a physical location, so must be "on the wall" at the online "location". Staff members may direct clients to other online resources; endless "our favourite links" pages are born so that the same resources may be ignored by legions of online users.
And managers expect users to be under their control online in the same way that they are at a physical location. A member of staff can direct a user to read information in a specific order, or to explore options other than the one they have set their mind on. On the web, this expectation results in paths through content that reflect the service's idea of how the information "should" be used, and in a tendency to put barriers in the way of users getting what they came for (I should stress that this is done with the best possible intentions).
My advice to managers: the website is not another location. It does not follow the same rules as physical locations. You can't control users in the same way, nor does it help you to try. Most importantly, people come to a website for very different reasons from those that send them to talk to a staff member. If you think of the website as just another location, you miss the key point: that websites are there to complement, not replace, your existing staffed services.
The prevailing metaphor at work is that of the website as, literally, a site: an extra location in which a service is delivered. Both managers and clients would expect a service to be the same whatever physical site it's delivered at; managers would also expect to have a large measure of control over the behaviour of users at a physical location. These expectations carry over to the web.
To ensure consistency of service across the "sites", any object that is present at a physical site must be put online; any information that would be given out by a staff member, likewise. When the department creates a poster, it's put online as a pdf: it's on the wall at a physical location, so must be "on the wall" at the online "location". Staff members may direct clients to other online resources; endless "our favourite links" pages are born so that the same resources may be ignored by legions of online users.
And managers expect users to be under their control online in the same way that they are at a physical location. A member of staff can direct a user to read information in a specific order, or to explore options other than the one they have set their mind on. On the web, this expectation results in paths through content that reflect the service's idea of how the information "should" be used, and in a tendency to put barriers in the way of users getting what they came for (I should stress that this is done with the best possible intentions).
My advice to managers: the website is not another location. It does not follow the same rules as physical locations. You can't control users in the same way, nor does it help you to try. Most importantly, people come to a website for very different reasons from those that send them to talk to a staff member. If you think of the website as just another location, you miss the key point: that websites are there to complement, not replace, your existing staffed services.
Sunday, 1 March 2009
Books on my desk #1 - The elements of style
Title: The elements of style (illustrated 4th edition)
Author: Strunk, White and Kalman (illustrations)
Description: Style guide originally written to encourage good essay-writing in American university students. Contains reminders of good grammar and usage (for American English), guidelines for good form in writing, and a section on developing style.
Review: Packs more punch in a smaller space than any writing guide I've read - and entertaining too. Sample gems:
"Write with nouns and verbs, not with adjectives and adverbs. The adjective hasn't been built that can pull a weak or inaccurate noun out of a tight place."
"Rather, very, little, pretty - these are the leeches that infest the pond of prose, sucking the blood of words."
This has been my desk-top writing guide for years; it stays fresh and relevant even after being re-read till the spine breaks. The illustrations are slightly odd - pretty pastel colours which lull you into believing the book to be similarly wishy-washy. It's anything but.
Why it's on my desk: It's not specifically aimed at web writing, but it turns out that web writing and clear, high-quality essay writing have a lot in common. "Avoid fancy words", "Be clear!", "Put yourself in the background": all of these and more apply to writing for the web just as much as they do to writing an essay.
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