Posts Tagged ‘Squidoo’

Confession: I was Lazy.

Yesterday I published a two-month-old draft without first checking to see if the terminology it referenced was still being used in the blog post I took to task. It wasn’t.

I dropped the ball.

I screwed up.

I’m sorry.

I’m still a bit touchy about the theme of the referenced post, but that’s my problem: I’ve been burned by some quasi-cultic groups where the people running the show tend to take innocuous words and make them pregnant with implications.

But that’s something I need to deal with, and I need to stop thinking that there’s always some hidden, sinister meaning behind the words people choose to use. Life is too short to spend it tilting at windmills.

In ::cough cough:: entirely unrelated news, I’m not going to the Campaign for Liberty rally in Minneapolis. I like their blog, though.

If you tell a story in the woods and nobody understands it, does it make any sense?

I’ve had this post sitting in my drafts since June, because it’s pretty rough on Megan (and Nicole said I shouldn’t post it). So why am I releasing it into the wild, blue series of tubes now? Because earlier today Megan’s boss, Seth Godin, wrote something that echoed the sentiments of this post: some people just won’t “get it,” but you shouldn’t insult them when it happens. Thanks, Seth!

The way Abraham Piper puts it, authors who want to be understood need to consider how their readers think. Of course, a storyteller could just take the stance held by Megan Casey at Squidoo, and when they don’t “get it,” label their audience “unimaginative”*.

Now sure, in the latter case you’re insulting a (vast?) portion of your audience in an effort to boost your own ego (“surely it’s their problem, not mine!”), but you can always double back and talk about how much you love the poor idiots, no really, and how it’s not their fault—they just can’t help it.

There’s a quote I’ve heard for years. It’s probably mangled by each person who references it; I know it’s been attributed to a few different people, including Einstein and E.F. Schumacher. Anyway, the quote goes like this: “Any intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex, and more violent. It takes a touch of genius—and a lot of courage—to move in the opposite direction.” If you find that your story (or business plan, or advertising model, or political platform) leaves most people scratching their heads, perhaps you’re not telling it well.

Surely this is one of the biggest reasons why Ron Paul failed to successfully capture the hearts and minds of the American people. He’s got some brilliant ideas, but he never quite figured out how to communicate them in a way the audience could understand and believe. (“Guns and butter,” anyone? I didn’t even get the reference, and I’m one of those “crazy Paulites”!)

The whole point of telling a story to an audience is to communicate something they don’t already understand—because if they truly understood it as you do, then they’d already be doing it. So if your audience doesn’t get the story before you tell it, that’s normal and to be expected; but if they still don’t understand after you tell it? You’re just not telling it well. When that happens, it’s your problem, not theirs. Don’t insult their intelligence (or their imagination) because they didn’t immediately jump on your particular train of thought.

Now please don’t think I’m just going to pick on Megan: she understands the proper course of action. She goes on in that same post to provide examples of different ways to tell the Squidoo story in an effort to help more people “get it.”

I guess it’s just the terminology that bugs me. As I see it, to judge an audience’s intelligence by how quickly they grasp your particular concept is lazy… and it can prove suicidal to your business. Megan contrasts the “imaginative” person (who made over 100 Squidoo lenses) with the “literal-minded” (unimaginative) person (who made 1 lens, was confused by or unimpressed with Squidoo, and left) and says that of course the “imaginative” person is better (and implies the “literal-minded” person requires hand-holding)! Me, I’m thinking maybe the latter person had enough imagination to see that no matter what was done, a Squidoo lens wasn’t going to meet their needs. It’s a completely valid conclusion, unless you have a cult-like lack of imagination obsession over the object of your affection.

Now if you want nothing more than a cult following from the far reaches of the long tail, then maybe this sort of attitude is okay; but if you’re trying to appeal to the masses—trying to bring in the “unimaginative”—you can’t afford the sort of narcissistic arrogance which blames others for not recognizing its “obvious” beauty.

* UPDATE: I was lazy, and failed to re-check the SquidBlog before hitting “Publish.” Had I done that, I would have noticed that Megan is now referring to “unimanginatives” as “literal-minded,” which is still kinda, sorta implying that people only give up on Squidoo because they “don’t get it” (rather than “Squidoo doesn’t meet their needs”), but as I said my biggest beef was with the terminology, I screwed up on this one.

Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas?

Las December I put together this Squidoo lens on the Christmas novelty song, I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas. Dad and my cousin Mike had just introduced it to me last year, and I made the lens as a way to gather whatever I could find on the album. After a few months, I basically forgot about it.

Once Black Friday hit, though, I noticed the lens was started to generate some affiliate sales. I thought that was pretty neat… but it’s been a few weeks now, and so far that one lens has led to 44 sales and over $20 going to Blood:Water Mission.

The best part is that it isn’t even Christmas yet. :)

Why I Loved StarCom (part 1)

Ever since I discovered the entire series is up on YouTube, I’ve been putting together what I call a “snarkopsis” (snarky synopsis) for each episode and adding them to my StarCom lens on Squidoo. For instance:

Ah, Jupiter-home to bright skies and some sort of floating jellyfish things imaginatively called “airwhales.” Two floating research stations have been built to study these creatures, and the kindhearted Col. James “Dash” Derringer can’t wait to ditch his mother, Amanda, and younger sister, Lianna at one of the doomed stations. (Oops, did I say “doomed”?)

And to think, the series didn’t last more than one season! ;) But seriously, check it out (even if only for some laughs).

Something Completely Different

Nicole and I are having a friendly competition: we’re both making Squidoo lenses on each of the kids. Here’s mine for Katie and Joshua. Check ‘em out (and ask Nicole about hers)! :)

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