OK, so my holiday greeting will be very general and all-encompassing. I will save the draft and send it on December 25. “Happy holidays to you and yours,” I type. “Travel safe and stay warm!”

Just so. I hit the save icon. I tap my fingernails against my desk. I reread, reread some more. It’s not right, I decide. By sending the message on December 25, I am implying that this is a Christmas message, and I don’t want my Jewish friends and colleagues to feel left out. I should send the message now. Then I’ll be covering all the bases.

Wait, when is Hanukkah this year? I look at the calendar. I’ve missed Hanukkah by a mile. Being semi-Jewish (we think) I feel a little guilty.

Right. So I can’t send the holiday message to everyone now that I’ve missed Hanukkah. I rewrite the whole thing: “Happy holidays to all, and I hope you’ve had a wonderful Hanukkah.”

I look at the sentence critically. It implies that everyone who receives the message has already celebrated Hanukkah. I revise: “Happy holidays! And to those of you who’ve celebrated Hanukkah, hope it was a good one!”

Wait, is Hanukkah one of the happy Jewish holidays? Or is it one of the fasting ones? Is it inappropriate to call Hanukkah “good”? I Wikipedia it. It appears I’m in the clear. I heave a heavy sigh of relief. I hit save.

But wait. Are we still acknowledging Kwanzaa? Is that something we still do? I Wikipedia Kwanzaa. I learn some stuff. I wonder if my black friends and colleagues celebrate it. I feel it would be gauche to inquire at such a late date. Maybe I should just throw it in there just to be safe.

New revision: “Happy holidays! To all that apply, sorry I missed Hanukkah but I hope you had a fun festival of lights. For those gearing up for Kwanzaa–”

Okay, now I just sound sarcastic. And if I’m mentioning Hanukkah and Kwanzaa by name, my Keep-Christ-In-Christmas friends and colleagues might get their Good Samaritan panties in a twist if I don’t mention IT by name.

Another revision: “Merry Christmas, Happy Kwanzaa, and Happy Belated Hanukkah to all!”

Well, that just sounds dumb. And it looks like Hanukkah is getting the short end of the stick. Which my people are used to (we think), but it makes it no less rude. Everyone’s going to think this is political correctness gone mad, when really I’m just trying not to leave anybody out! I reread my latest version.

If I wanted to be completely honest, I could just say, “Thanks to your various religions, atheists like me get some awesome deals at the store this time of year. Your people’s struggles were totally worth it. Hooray!”

But that message even leaves out my fellow going-to-hellers. Gah! I erase everything I have so far. I write: “Have a wonderful winter season!” I stare at it. It’s the worse one yet, not only because it makes it sound like I’m obsessed with weather, but because it implies I don’t have the cojones to say “Christmas” or “holidays.” What do Buddhists usually do in this situation? Something universal like “Peace!” maybe. But that sounds even more political! My simple, sweet holiday greeting has become an existential exercise, a minefield fraught with the danger of seeming either crass or mealy-mouthed.

I delete everything. I start over. I write something and I send it. It’s perfect. The sentiment we all agree with.

“Hey guys!” (It says.) “Can’t wait to grab a drink with you in 2011.”

God bless us. Every one.

We wouldn’t be able to do our jobs without you. It’s a constant surprise that, no matter what the product or service we’re flacking, there you are, being a fan. You’re fans of everything, from truck tires to gardening tools. You’re the everyday experts and armchair critics. You know more about your fannish world than almost anyone.

PR and marketing people have a lot of names for you; “influencers” and “superfans” seem to be the current favorites. If I had to guess, I would say these terms came into fashion to better show how important you all can be, but this is a love letter for all the fans, from the guy who runs an entire fan website dedicated to a TV show to the lady who goes out of her way to tell all her friends about a new store. Thanks to all y’all.

Thanks for getting excited about the things we’re working on. Thanks for asking tons of questions about what’s coming up next. Thanks for chatting about everything on Facebook and Twitter, but also in real life in real time. Thanks for blogging, but also for chatting in bars.

I can’t imagine a more perfect love than that between a fan and the object of fannishness. We aren’t paying you to review our product or talk about our industry; you’re doing it out of genuine love for whatever it is.

And here’s the hippy twist: we’re all fans of something. So this is a thank-you note for everyone.

So. What are you a fan of today?

• 10 February 2012 : Doing It Right & Doing It Wrong
• 9 February 2012 : 5 Ways that Bloggers Are Like the Cool Kids in High School
• 8 February 2012 : Drop the Salesman Mentality
• 7 February 2012 : Giant PR Lessons from the Super Bowl Champions
• 6 February 2012 : Video: Job Interview Conversations That Should Be Had

Bear with me here for just a second.

Old school fans of Must See TV might remember the episode. The entire day, the ER is bogged down, people are having the hardest day of their lives, the attractive doctors are getting frazzled, patients are complaining, and because of a myriad of complications, not a lot can be done. Then George Clooney gets up, grabs some first aid supplies, and starts patching up the dozens of people sitting in the waiting room. The other doctors join in, and the human spirit rises to the occasion: FINALLY, stuff is getting done despite the red tape because it’s just the right thing to do.

(Critics of this episode probably include malpractice lawyers and insurance folks who cry at scenes like this. Sorry, lawyers and insurance folks!)

In the case Danny points out, one company was too slow to respond to a problem, which gave another company a chance to save the day. Good on them, I say! But when we look inward at our day-to-day business, and we look for opportunities to save the day, we are often beset (sometimes literally, sometimes metaphorically) by our own lawyers and insurance folks. Red tape is frustrating for everyone, both within and without the company. And saving the day isn’t easy when you have so many levels to go through before putting on your cape.

This is why I advocate small acts of kindness. Going above and beyond doesn’t have to be big. Going out of your way to make even the smallest gesture can make a difference to a consumer. If this sounds a lot like hippy kumbaya karma, it is. And I’m sorry I keep harping on this, but there’s really no other way to put it: you have to be nice. You have to be nice even if you don’t think the consumer deserves it, because you do not know whether or not the consumer deserves it. (Everyone has bad days, is what I’m saying, and if your first instinct is “that’s not my job,” maybe you should think about getting a different job. Because we’re professionals, and we’re here to help. In my overblown, utopian opinion.)

Because we all love lists, here’s a list of small acts of kindness that your brand can do for little or no money that may make someone’s day:

1. Retweet someone who doesn’t have a million followers, whose blog isn’t the top rated on Technorati, simply because their content was good.

2. #FollowFriday someone for about the same reason.

3. If a customer has issues with your product, even if your product is not at fault, offer to help. I was once approached by someone who had bought one of my assigned books and didn’t like it. It happens, but it’s also a chance to do something better than say, “Oh, tough luck.” I gave her another one of my books, one I thought she would like. And guess what? She liked it so much that she bought the other books in the series. Yeah, I lost a book, but I sold a bunch more. And if she didn’t like the new book, that would have been a net loss, but I had to try.

4. Commenting on blog posts about your brand. Monitoring is cool and all, but actually taking the 2 seconds to leave a comment, even if it’s just to say “thanks for the feedback” goes a long way. You can’t do it for every blog post if you’re a huge company, but when you can it lets the blogger know they’re on your radar and you care about their opinions.

5. Just talk. Not as part of a promotion, not as a way to get consumer data, not with any agenda in mind other than to talk. Very serious businesspeople might balk at this as a waste of time, and for people who feel that way, well, you must not have ever done it. Because if you have, then you would realize that just talking to your customers is the only way to make sure that those future promotions, data collections, and other agendas are successful.

I’m currently dating quite the sweetie and life is pretty good, I guess! We have fun times, and we’re both wordy people. Ahhhhh, the joy of conversing with someone who knows what adverbs are! It’s quite nice.

But a spanner was thrown in the works, guys. We had our first fight. And it was about punctuation.

How can someone hate parentheses!? It’s like hating parking lots! They’re going to be there whether you like them or not, but at least they serve a purpose. I lobbied hard for parentheses in this fight, but then my unabashed hatred of ellipses was thrown in my face. But ellipses are stupid! ellipses are often misused and misunderstood, whereas parenthesis, in my mind, have the clear task of setting a word or phrase aside, not as a footnote, but as a little whisper in the middle of everything. That’s important, I argued.

Here’s where the story starts becoming relevant to you and your work: somewhere, some day, you will write a piece of copy and submit it for approval. It will be the most perfect copy you have ever written. Everyone will love it and want to run with it–except for one guy. One guy who wrinkles his nose at it and says, “Everything’s great, but can we take out these semicolons/ ellipses/ parentheses/ dashes/ colons/ commas/ quote marks? They just distract me/ don’t look right/ mess up the “flow”/some other vague reason.”

He may be the only person on the committee that felt that way. Whether his reasoning is valid or not, you, the writer of the copy, will be peeved because if he’s the only one that’s bothered, why should you change it? But that one dissenting opinion will slowly infect your manager, your coworkers, your client, and your staff. They’ll spend way more time than necessary looking at those semicolons/ ellipses/ parentheses/ dashes/ colons/ commas/ quote marks and asking themselves, “Does this distract me? Does it look right? Is it wrong?”

Here’s the thing about technical aspects of copywriting, the big secret that “word people” are hiding from you: there are very, very few hard and fast rules in writing, all things considered. A lot of times, the rules are made to be bent. Or broken. Or some other sentence fragment. A lot of times, it’s all a matter of taste.

To use one eternal grammar nerd battle as an example: I am a user of the serial (or Oxford) comma. (See baby? That’s a perfect use for parenthesis, just sayin’.) The serial comma is the last, some would say optional, comma in a series of three or more words or phrases. As in: I like to eat butter, eggs, and cheese. That second comma is a serial comma. And I love it. I think it helps makes things more clear without talking up too much page space. I’ll use it with my dying keystroke.

But why do I really wave the Oxford comma flag? Because that’s how I was taught as a child. And it would be more difficult to break the habit now in my declining years than to just go with it. It’s my personal preference. And if it saves a relationship or two, I will admit here in public that people who do not use the Oxford comma are–gulp–not bad writers by default.

My point is, it’s not the end of the world if one guy wants you to change some small technical part of your copywriting. I’m not saying roll over every time, especially if said bellyacher is in the wrong no matter how you slice it. I’m just saying there are bigger things to worry about in writing, and for god’s sakes, in life, than a dash or a semicolon.

But parentheses are still awesome.

• 10 February 2012 : Doing It Right & Doing It Wrong
• 9 February 2012 : 5 Ways that Bloggers Are Like the Cool Kids in High School
• 8 February 2012 : Drop the Salesman Mentality
• 7 February 2012 : Giant PR Lessons from the Super Bowl Champions
• 6 February 2012 : Video: Job Interview Conversations That Should Be Had

Of course you have.

Now it is apparently time for you to learn from it, as you undoubtedly hope to be the next Old Spice-like thing that all the kids are talking about on the internets. But I’m going to go out on a limb and say it is very unlikely that Old Spice’s success can be replicated by you, or anyone. And I’m not saying that because I think Old Spice’s campaign was some perfect storm that wasn’t meant to take off like it did; it was clearly a well-engineered piece of awesome. And I’m not saying that we’ll never see a wildly popular campaign like this ever again; we will. But it won’t be anything like the Old Spice campaign because we’ve already seen that.

So in the same vein as all these guides to doing what Old Spice did, here is a list of reasons why you won’t create the next internet sensation:

1. You’re trying too hard. Your audience can smell desperation a mile away. The minute you set out to be the next big thing, you lose all sense of what works and what doesn’t for you and your product.

2. You’re not creative. There’s nothing interesting about what you’re saying or how you say it. Flash and sizzle can be nice, but if they’re only there to mask the epic boredom your campaign brings the viewer, it’s more of an incentive for the viewer to switch off.

3. You’re not funny. This may be the most important reason of all. It’s hard to be funny. It’s hard to know what’s going to make people (not just a few people, lots of people) laugh. It’s even harder to be funny in a way that no one else has tried before.

Experts can dissect the reasons why Old Spice’s campaign was a hit; they can talk about influencers and SEO and viral content until they’re blue in the face. But it all comes down to this: Old Spice did something funny, and they did it well, and they did it at the right time, and they did it in the right way, and now because of that, you cannot do what they did. Imitators will bore us at the very best, anger us at the very worst.

Study Old Spice if you like. Learn all you can about their successes. Apply what is relevant to your own work if you can. But don’t worry about creating the next The Man Your Man Could Smell Like. Someone already did that.

• 10 February 2012 : Doing It Right & Doing It Wrong
• 9 February 2012 : 5 Ways that Bloggers Are Like the Cool Kids in High School
• 8 February 2012 : Drop the Salesman Mentality
• 7 February 2012 : Giant PR Lessons from the Super Bowl Champions
• 6 February 2012 : Video: Job Interview Conversations That Should Be Had

History is full of stories like this; in our short-sighted momentary grasp of facts, we think that something is going to be vilified for all time on account of a massive screw-up, only to realize much later that something else got in the way of carving that in stone. Take Wagner, for example. When we think of Wagner we probably think of Ride of the Valkyries playing during the helicopter scene in Apocalypse Now. His music endures as a cultural touchstone and the annual performance of his works at the Bayreuth Festspielhaus is sold out for years to come. This, despite his awful anti-semetic views and definite ties to the Nazi party.

Can you imagine someone in modern times having such a tarnish on their reputation, yet be remembered in a mostly positive light? No? How about Michael Jackson, who died a little over a year ago, prompting a massive worldwide demonstration of nostalgia and heartbreak for his death, despite the allegations of child molestation and general bizarre behavior that marred his career?

I’m bringing this up because as a PR professional, I have to wonder if the forgetfulness of history is engineered in some way by the people responsible for a person or brand’s reputation. Or is it just that great flack Time (not the magazine), who heals all public relations crises? It’s difficult to say.

Cog and I have fought over who is cooler, Edison or Telsa, for a long, long time. He’s wrong, of course, but I will be the first to admit Telsa was not the better businessman. And for that, his genius and his discoveries are largely lost to history (or stolen by that d-bag, Edison). As a nerd, I feel pity for Tesla because I know in my heart he was right. But as a pro, I have to wonder why he never hired a manager for all those moneymaking ideas. Does the fact he didn’t mean history should forget him?

The BP oil spill, by all measures, is supposed to be the worst ecological crisis ever recorded. Will we look back on it in ten years and remember what the letters BP stood for? Will we still hate BP for what happened, or will BP have disappeared, renamed or reformed or perhaps renegotiated into something we don’t recognize? Maybe some other gigantic crisis (and there always seems to be a gigantic crisis) will have captured our limited attention by then, and the anniversary of this spill will pass without anyone noticing. Or maybe the BP spill will become the Benedict Arnold of modern times, a name so blackened that we hate the sound of it deep in our gut, even if we don’t remember why.

• 10 February 2012 : Doing It Right & Doing It Wrong
• 9 February 2012 : 5 Ways that Bloggers Are Like the Cool Kids in High School
• 8 February 2012 : Drop the Salesman Mentality
• 7 February 2012 : Giant PR Lessons from the Super Bowl Champions
• 6 February 2012 : Video: Job Interview Conversations That Should Be Had

(name of company) Announces New (product or service) For (current season)

(Major city, state) (date) — Executives at (name of company) have unveiled plans for a new (product or service) just in time for (season, holiday, or major event). Such an (adjective) achievement is yet another indicator of economic recovery and (other good thing). Experts praised the new initiative as (adjective) and ground-breaking.

“We’ve been waiting to see this from (name of company) for quite some time,” (unknown professor or commentator) said in reaction to the news. “And we haven’t been disappointed. This (product or service) will change the way we do (kind of business).”

This announcement comes on the heels of (name of company)‘s (past achievement), (past achievement), and (another past achievement mostly for SEO purposes).

At the kick-off event, (name of company)‘s leadership made clear their enthusiasm for (product or service). VP (female name) was adamant regarding her support, saying, “(meaningless positive sentiments). It’s quite a (adjective) time for (name of company).”

(product or service) also received the thumbs up from celebrity spoksperson, (C-lister). Best known for (role in a short-lived drama or reality series), (C-lister) was there to cut the ribbon on (product or service), saying, “I’m so (adjective) to play a part in bringing (product or service) to the people who need it. I love (product or service) and I know the world will, too.”

About (name of company):

Founded in 1886, (name of company) is a leader in the field of (industry), providing creative solutions for a wide range of clients and service providers. Numerous awards have been bestowed upon (name of company), most notably the (unrecognizable name) Prize for excellence in the (positive adjective) world of (kind of business).

• 10 February 2012 : Doing It Right & Doing It Wrong
• 9 February 2012 : 5 Ways that Bloggers Are Like the Cool Kids in High School
• 8 February 2012 : Drop the Salesman Mentality
• 7 February 2012 : Giant PR Lessons from the Super Bowl Champions
• 6 February 2012 : Video: Job Interview Conversations That Should Be Had

The point is, Summer Fridays are a chance for you to use your precious downtime to enjoy the beautiful weather and cultural delights the city has to offer in the summertime. Here is how Summer Fridays usually go down:

1. Late April: murmurings abound in the office. Will we get Summer Fridays this year? What time will we be let out early, if at all? Will our spouse/significant other/friends also have Summer Fridays? What if we don’t get Summer Fridays? Will there be revolt?

2. Mid-May: The top brass announce, with a benevolence befitting their status, that the office will, in fact, have Summer Fridays this year. Office monkeys rejoice and are glad. One doesn’t like to exaggerate, but there’s a sense in the office atmosphere that all creatures great and small are feeling rather chuffed.

3. Late May: Those who have been gifted with Summer Fridays begin to smugly lord it over their friends and industry colleagues who will not have Summer Fridays. Taunts turn some flacks into quivering lumps of jelly swearing to better their career by finding a position at a firm that always participates in the Summer Fridays tradition.

4. Early June: Summer Fridayites begin planning elaborate semi-long weekend jaunts to take advantage of their added hours of freedom. These plans range from visiting museums to cooking classes to trips to Coney Island to volunteering at a local orphanage. The Fridayites look over their To Do lists and feel a sense of deep fulfillment.

5. First Summer Friday of the Year: No one wants to leave early and look like a slacker. It’s a game of productivity chicken that no one will give in to until the nighttime security guard kicks everyone out of the building.

6. Second Summer Friday of the Year: No one leaves the office until 7:30 p.m. because there’s just too much dang work to leave for the weekend, due to everyone day-dreaming about what they could do with Summer Fridays.

7. The Remaining Summer Fridays of the Year: Everyone leaves the office early as they’re supposed to but, exhausted from working so hard during the rest of the week, they go straight home and nap until dinnertime.

8. The Week After Labor Day Weekend: Everyone marvels at how quickly the summer went by. They fold their white pants and put them away in the back of the closet with a sigh and think, “Next year maybe we’ll have time to go to the MoMA.”

Have a great summer, everyone.

• 10 February 2012 : Doing It Right & Doing It Wrong
• 9 February 2012 : 5 Ways that Bloggers Are Like the Cool Kids in High School
• 8 February 2012 : Drop the Salesman Mentality
• 7 February 2012 : Giant PR Lessons from the Super Bowl Champions
• 6 February 2012 : Video: Job Interview Conversations That Should Be Had

Some of us, on the other hand, are representing products that are good strictly as a matter of taste. I work for a publisher, for example, and books are notorious for being judged on a very private, personal scale of excellence. One critic may think a book was sent down from heaven itself with a whole gaggle of angels; another may think it’s the worst thing every to be put on paper. There’s just no accounting for taste.

Yes, scholars of a certain genre or people who are solid bookish types will be able to tell a bad book from a good book. But they’ll never, ever agree to what exactly those parameters should be. And even if they could, what would it matter? Lots of books (and other products that are largely a matter of taste, like clothes or food or art) that have been shown by experts to be definitively not very good have sold pretty dang well anyway. Like I said, there’s just no accounting for taste.

So how do you represent a product that is only as good as the match between itself and the consumer? You just do your best, I’m afraid.

When a reader contacts me to say “I didn’t like this book very much,” I don’t say, “Well, the International Guild of Mystery Writers awarded the book a prize, so I suppose you must be mistaken” or “Have you tried reading it when you’re in a better mood?”

I do the only thing you can do when your product’s strength is a matter of taste. I ask, “What didn’t you like about it?” The problem with this is a lot of people (I hesitate to pick on Americans specifically, so I won’t) were never taught to express why something doesn’t match up with their tastes. As far as art goes, we’re sorely lacking the vocabulary to be critical. When asked why one doesn’t like something, one’s foremost response is “I just don’t,” which is no kind of answer at all.

I am lucky in that the readers who seek me out to chat about books are good eggs and can usually get some evidence to back up their opinions. Then I can help, sometimes, by saying, “It sounds like this book was a little too young for you. Why not try this one?” or “I guess you like more action/romance/mystery in your stories, and here are some that might fit the bill.”

But very often, I can’t say anything other than “Thanks for that feedback, and I’m sorry you didn’t enjoy the book.” It sounds a bit feeble, but readers (and, in general, consumers of goods like movies and video games, things that you can’t experience in whole before buying) understand that these things happen. Their purchases are gambles. They may not like what they end up with. It’s not as if disliking one single book will put them off reading forever. (Unless, like a very dear friend of mine, the book in question is Ethan Frome.) Just as with gambling, these sorts of goods are an addition, a fairly cheap, exciting, worthwhile addiction.

In my experience, there’s nothing you can do to change someone’s mind about a book, or anything that’s a matter of taste. It goes against a flack’s instincts to give in to this, but instead of treating products like this like the best thing since sliced bread, a flack’s job is instead about being familiar with the landscape, knowing what sorts of people should enjoy certain kinds of products, pairing them up as best you can, and offering a sympathetic ear if it doesn’t pan out. Not every blind date ends in marriage, after all.

• 10 February 2012 : Doing It Right & Doing It Wrong
• 9 February 2012 : 5 Ways that Bloggers Are Like the Cool Kids in High School
• 8 February 2012 : Drop the Salesman Mentality
• 7 February 2012 : Giant PR Lessons from the Super Bowl Champions
• 6 February 2012 : Video: Job Interview Conversations That Should Be Had

Okay, cliches! Get ready for an interesting fact: the word “cliche” originally meant a chunk of typeset text of moveable type Ye Olde printer could use over and over again often. This is also where we get the word “stereotype,” literally type that’s used many times for different purposes. Now it means a phrase or an idea that is used to the point of overuse; that is, it has lost its meaning.

This is bad business because:
1. It bores your customers.
2. It doesn’t help inform your customers.
3. It doesn’t set you apart from your competitors.

The tricky bit about cliches is that they’re a lot like figures of speech , which are so ingrained in our language, we don’t even know we’re using them most of the time. I defy you to leaf through a newspaper or flip through some commercials and not find dozens and dozens of cliches. So everyone is doing it! That doesn’t make it right. If the New York Times jumped off a bridge, would you do it too? (See what I did there? A cliche AND a personifi-whatever.)

Unfortunately, the antidote for cliches is originality, and, by definition, there’s no textbook on how to be original. I’m not saying every line you write needs to be Shakespeare, but it does need to be something more than a platitude or a recycled bit. I suppose the best advice would be to read expansively, not for the purposes of ripping off others, but to get your brain used to thinking in different ways.

And I don’t mean this in just brass-tacks writing; I mean ideas themselves. Cliches and stereotypes are easy shortcuts to human understanding, but you can get in a lot of trouble PR-wise if you’re lazy and fall into their traps. Dumb blondes, stupid jocks, effeminate homosexuals, battle axe businesswomen, hookers with hearts of gold, slow Southerners: these are cliches that you’re better off avoiding, not just for moral reasons but because they’re boring; they don’t help inform your customers; and using them doesn’t set you apart. Unless you like being profiled for making a large segment of consumers angry.

But even then, even the little scrap of press you eke out for “going there” and “telling it like it is” doesn’t get you much mileage because the offensive promotional stunt is itself a cliche. And another, more offensive stunt will be right behind you, rest assured.

• 10 February 2012 : Doing It Right & Doing It Wrong
• 9 February 2012 : 5 Ways that Bloggers Are Like the Cool Kids in High School
• 8 February 2012 : Drop the Salesman Mentality
• 7 February 2012 : Giant PR Lessons from the Super Bowl Champions
• 6 February 2012 : Video: Job Interview Conversations That Should Be Had