Cat's Eye Marketing Blog

Twitter in a Sound Bite World: How a Single Tweet Can Offend a Follower

Okay. I guess I'm in my stirring things up mode. Last week, crowdsourcing, and today, well, today I take on the topic of misunderstood tweets. 

I read an article online recently that told us that we should "think of Twitter as email." It was an interesting statement, in light of an experience I had last week.

Your tweets can engage your followers

Twitter lets us all be writers. Even if we wouldn't touch blogging with a 10-foot-pole. It's short and pithy, 140 characters or less. So it makes you focus on your message, right? 

Another part of Twitter's charm is its ease of use, its ability to instantly connect you with hundreds, if not thousands, of people. The interactivity of it can make you feel you are in a conversation, that you are just talking to friends. Sharing real-time thoughts.

Your tweets can show your unique self 

Twitter allows us to be honest, authentic and transparent. These are the pillars of social media, are they not?

I love the ways I have gotten to know people in deeper ways, people I have never met in person. Someone I follow likes to write with fountain pens that spill ink out in goopy splats. Me too. Someone is reading one of my all-time favorite children's books to her daughter. I send a private message and tell her if she likes that one, she has to read her  "The Wind in the Willows" next.

Twitter has a way of helping us get to know others better, just based on one- to two-sentence snippets. People don't always share their deepest thoughts but, over time, we, feel like we know them.

Your tweets can offend—or be misunderstood

I read recently about a PR agency executive, who on a visit to a city that shall remain unnamed, got in a lot of trouble because he tweeted, "If I had to live here, I would die." 

Only problem: it was the city his major client was headquartered in. And the client read his tweet. He was not happy. Ah, the power, the immediacy of Twitter.

My story pales by comparison. Yet it was real to me. Here's what happened. Someone I was following tweeted a quote from one of my favorite poets:

"The worst enemy of creativity is self-doubt."

Good quote. I love it. But then he added something about the next worse enemy of creativity being suicide.

Plagued by depression her whole life, this poet did indeed kill herself. And if it didn't happen that we had a very painful suicide in our family 10 years ago, and that I now provide pro bono copywriting for an agency that works with the mentally ill, well, I might have laughed at his tweet. It was clever.

Yet I was offended. As I look back, he was probably, in his own way, reflecting on the loss of a brilliant creative soul—not through self-doubt, but through the taking of her own life.

The big question: Why couldn't I see his perspective? Because I was too close to the subject. Because I was bringing my own unique set of experiences to it.

What's the bigger point here?

In a thoughtful blog post in January '09, Web strategist Jeremiah Owyang said that "Twitter is often taken out of context, it's happened to me." He goes on to say, "When you tweet, you're publishing. Don't say anything you wouldn't say to someone's face."

That's a good way to look at it, I think. We  are all publishing when we tweet. As a writer myself, who aches to get into conversations with my readers, I know that, with the exception of this blog, I am just putting my stuff out there. I don't know what my readers are thinking 

And even with my blog, I often have a fairly insignificant number of commenters, readers who engage me if they are confused or have additional thoughts on a blog topic.

The bigger point? With social media, we don't always know who we are talking to. And that is exactly my point. Everyone makes their own assumptions, based on their personal perspectives and unique experiences.

Now I'm not saying this tweeter said anything wrong. But I took it wrong. And since he didn't know me, how could he know where I was coming from?

Yet I wonder, what if you made that same comment in a bar, or on someone's living room couch. To someone you didn't know—or had just met? Would you still say it? Or would you think that, in the case of the tweet about hating someone's home town or the one about a mentally ill poet who killed herself, that the subject might touch someone personally?

I read something that PR professional John Bell said recently about tweeting. He talked about the ".08 rule," .08 being the time it takes to ask yourself three questions:

"Does this need to be said?"

"Does it need to be said by me?

"Does it need to be said by me now?"

I'm keeping those questions handy.

How about you? Does transparency rule on Twitter? Or can a tweet ever cross the line—or possibly be misinterpreted by a follower? Should we be in a self-censor mode when we tweet? I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Why Crowdsourcing Makes Sense—Sometimes.

If you have been hanging around Twitter lately, you've heard the rumble.

At this year's SXSW Interactive Conference in Austin, Texas, dubbed "The Brightest Minds in Emerging Technology," one panel session in particular got tons of attention.

It was called "Spec Work Is Evil" and it started a firestorm. The topic was crowdsourcing, which most professional graphic designers call "working on spec." Meaning delivering a creative product on speculation, without any guarantee of payment—unless the client chooses to purchase.

Now, whether this is fair to designers or not is a hot topic for another blog post. But I've become curious enough about this whole crowdsourcing thing to try to figure out what it means to you, my small business readers.

What crowdsourcing is—and isn't

Wikipedia defines crowdsourcing as "the act of taking a task traditionally performed by an employee or contractor, and outsourcing it to an undefined, generally large group of people, in the form of an open call." That's right, an open call. Kind of like an audition. You know, where lots of people perform and only one gets chosen. Picture the Broadway show, A Chorus Line.

Call it an audition, call it a contest. Call it whatever you like. But it is not a normal relationship with one service provider who is contracted to provide a solution to a problem. It's a bunch of unknown people, all raising their hands, each one hoping you'll select them for the job—and the paycheck. I'm not saying that's good or bad. Just what it is.

How crowdsourcing works

More and more businesses are going to crowdsourcing websites, especially when they are looking for creative services. Take graphic design, which was the subject of the heated debate at SXSW.

Design-focused crowdsourcing companies, like 99 designs and crowdSPRING, are popping up everywhere. The premise is simple: a business owner or startup needing a logo posts their project, sits back and waits for all the designs to come in, then chooses the one she likes. 99 designs has a $39 registration fee and crowdSPRING charges a 15 percent commission on the price you settle on with the designer. All good.

Okay, let's pretend you are looking for a new logo. Here's what I'm thinking:

Crowdsourcing is good

More choices.

You get at least 25 designs—often scores more—from a diverse and global pool of designers. You might get a headache just going through all of them.

Less risk.

Because you are not stuck with just one designer, you have more of a chance of finding the perfect one for your needs. There's comfort in numbers, right?

You can name your price. Well, almost.

Businesses typically pay just $200-$350 for a completed logo, sometimes less. For cash-strapped solopreneurs and startups, that's practically a gift.

You determine the length of the process.

No more designers going on vacation or putting your project on the back burner because they got busy. You choose the time frame you want to work in. 

You are in the driver's seat.

No more getting talked into a cutting edge design by an over-the-top designer who has won lots of awards but doesn't understand your plainer, more humble image and brand.

Crowdsourcing is bad

You cannot change your mind.

With most of these firms, you are committed once you post your project, unless you do not get enough design submissions (in most cases at least 25). You must choose and pay for one.

You must know something about good design.

You need to know enough to say clearly what it is you need—and what you don't want. The more specific direction you give to the "creatives," the more their submissions will match your interests. 

It takes more of your time.

Unless you provide specific and detailed feedback, you'll be in an infinite loop of mediocrity. While the single designer you contract with is skilled at pulling the right feedback out of you, the responsibility rests with you in crowdsourcing.

Any disputes will slow you down.

Most websites have a dispute resolution policy if for some reason you are unhappy or feel you were treated unfairly. But that process can be a time-eater. 

Your logo design process is there for all the world to see.

Your logo is designed step-by-step, in a public forum. If you don't want the world to see it yet, you may have a problem with that.

It's your choice

Many of the experts say that crowdsourcing is here to stay. Web strategist Jeremiah Owyang thinks that a new "lower tier" of design needs has emerged—people with blogs, small businesses, etc.—and that crowdsourcing and spec work will meet these new needs. But he also says that, in the end, you get what you pay for.

What about you? Have you had any experience, with purchasing services through crowdsourcing, or providing them?

How did it go for you?

 

The 5 Irritating People You Meet on Twitter—and How Not To Be One of Them

Are you like me? Are you playing around in the Twitter sandbox? Digging, shoveling, trying to figure it all out? And have you yet?

Twitter is its own creature: elusive and unique, like an overachieving adolescent, a pimply geek who is oddly fascinating and has some deep stuff going on below the surface. 

It's filled with all kinds of possibilities—and chances to fall flat on your face. Ruin your brand. Bore people. Make people mildly irritated or genuinely pissed. 

In simple terms, Twitter is a communication tool that allows short outbursts of personal voice, quirkiness, and helpful advice—as long as you stay under 140 characters with your message. Does it help every business to be on Twitter? Frankly I do not know, but I suspect not.

The 5 irritating people you meet on Twitter

Now there very well may be more, but I'm seeing at least five bothersome personalities emerge and they're not doing anything to build their personal brand, if you know what I mean.

1. Mr. "you didn't follow me so I'm unfollowing you" 

This guy (or girl) is classic in an I'm-still-in-middle-school sort of way. Their only rule for following is that you follow them back. Doesn't matter that they run a sex toys store and you don't have a lot in common with them. They're just sure you don't like them, so they don't like you anymore.

How not to be one: Look for interesting people to follow. Twitterers who have something important, insightful, or just entertaining to say. And don't be upset if they don't follow you back. Learn from them anyway. Isn't that what makes Twitter so great?

2. Ms. "I live to spam you"

This Twitterer is only following you to send you their insane links. You know the kind. They DM (direct message) you constantly with their offers. "Free ebook!" "50 percent off my brilliant teleseminar!" "Come to my event!" You are their captive customer.

How not to be one: Offer value. Be helpful. Don't force sell when a relationship doesn't even exist yet. Kind of the same way marketing works in the real world.

3. The "you'll love my kids, too, if I just tweet enough about them" guy

You've been tweeted by this guy. I know you have. "My 4-year-old Joey [why is he always a genius?] read a middle grade novel to me at bedtime." "Ellen called cauliflower 'little white trees' at the dinner table last night!" Now, don't get me wrong. I love kids. Even had one myself at one time. But tweet after tweet gets old.

How not to be one: Don't assume everyone wants to hear everything your 7-year-old says or does. Occasional tweets are fine. Just don't make your twitter space all about your family.

4. Ms. "I'm using Twitter as email"

Here's how to spot this one. If you look at a page of tweets and you see five or more @'s in a row: @designking, @surfergrll, @marketingwhiz (I just made these names up, so any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental), then this is a probably a Twitter-as-email person. They are carrying on tons of conversations that many people are not hearing the other side of.

How not to be one: Watch those @'s. If you do them, try to add a small reference so others know what you are talking about. And if you don't want others to hear the conversation, take it off Twitter. Send a DM instead and spare us all the confusion and/or boredom.

5. Mr. "I don't care enough about you to read your profile"

This has to be one of my least favorite people. Just last week, I got a "thanks for following me" auto-reply (by the way, I hate those robotic responses). The funny thing was this person was trying to sell me a marketing course. Yes, to me, the owner of Cat's Eye Marketing. Sure sign of a one-size-fits-all tweet masquerading as a personal message.

How not to be one: Do not, I repeat do not, send out untargeted messages to your new followers. It makes them think you don't care enough about them to spend 20 seconds looking at their profile. It's like the telemarketers who say "Let us design a website for you" when you are in the web design business yourself.

Okay, there's a rant I got out of my system. Blogging as therapy.

What types have you met on Twitter that drive you up the wall? Did I leave anyone out? 

 

Why Refusing Your Client's Money Can Be a Good Thing

Like most people, I like money. Really, I do.

As Adam Sandler said to Kevin Nealon's banker character in the retro-80s comedy The Wedding Singer,

"I'm a big fan of money. I like it, I use it, I have a little. I keep it in a jar on top of my refrigerator. I'd like to put more in that jar."

If you own a business, you know that selling can be a beautiful thing. You do a job. Your client is happy. She pays you—money in the jar. Which makes you happy. You think of more things you can do for her. She pays you some more.

It's all good.

But what if making your client happy meant less money for you?

Imagine you are starting a new project for a client. Say, a website. Would you offer a solution that pays you less money but leaves your customer more satisfied? A better solution but a smaller invoice?

Example: A client wants one of those huge websites. You know the kind. With flash, multiple pages and complicated coding only you can mess with. A static website.

But you know a better way. A way that will cost less to design and be easier for her to make the changes she needs to without hiring you. That's right, one of those blog-websites that even the dumbest of the design illiterates can get into if they need to add a photo, change a phone number, delete an employee who's left.

Relationship marketing: attracting customers for life

Last Christmas Eve morning, in the middle of a snowstorm, the pastor of our church called us. We had designed (pro bono) the church's site. He was frantic because he needed the events page modified to let people know the Christmas Eve service was cancelled. Luckily, Bob was in the office and quickly made the change.

But it got me thinking. Wouldn't it be great if our clients didn't have to call us every time they wanted to make a small change? Setting aside the charges (we hated billing for such a small amount of work), wouldn't it be a whole lot simpler if they could just make the edit on their end? Have more control over their own content?

And how would that affect the feeling they have when they see our name? Their level of happiness and trust, knowing that we want the best solution for them—not necessarily for our pocketbook—at any given time?

We made a change in our services. We are offering Wordpress blog-websites, at the fraction of the costs of a static site. So clients save in up-front design charges and in back end administration.

How about you? Do you ever sacrifice short-term gain, knowing that you are building incredible customer trust and loyalty? Does this philosophy make sense?