Recent work: Mohawk Maker Quarterly

Writers truly geek out when their work is published — even more so when their work is presented in glorious, beautifully designed fashion. I’m lucky. I get to work with creative people who turn my words into really cool printed pieces.

For more than a year, I’ve been collaborating with the insanely talented people at Hybrid Design in San Francisco on a covetable quarterly publication that celebrates creativity, artistry and the maker culture. Mohawk Paper produces the Mohawk Maker Quarterly for its audience of printers, creators and designers. Here’s a look at Issue No. 7, which carries a theme of Character:

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Do people (really) know who you are?

I’ve spent the past several months deep in biographies. I’ve read Beryl Markham’s “West With the Night” and Ernest Hemingway’s “A Moveable Feast” — but that’s not the kind of biography I’m talking about here.

Let’s discuss the Professional Biography, shall we?

Hello My Name IsAs part of my event-marketing work for clients in the creative and food industries, I’ve edited/revised/rewritten hundreds of professional bios. Hundreds. And you know what? Most professional bios are awful.

If you work in any leadership capacity, in any market, you need a well-crafted biography. It gives prospective clients information on your expertise. It tells potential employees who they’ll be working for. It shares your bona fides with people who want to invite you to speak at professional events or write for industry publications.

Your bio lives in many places, in many formats. It’s the written version of the spiel you use to introduce yourself in a professional setting.

Why are so many bios impersonal, clinical, incomplete? (I suspect it’s because many people find it incredibly difficult to write about themselves.)

Here’s what a professional bio should — and should not — be.

It SHOULD be personal. A strong biography marries your professional credentials with your personal characteristics. It conveys your experience and credentials, yes — but it also hints at who you are as a person. It can include your non-work interests and passions (best placed at the end of the text). What are you like to work with? What are your values? What fuels your fire?

It SHOULD NOT be a resume. A potential employer needs to know your career history. A prospective collaborator or client needs to know your expertise. These are not the same thing. So many bios I’ve “fixed” are simply lists of past job titles. Instead, your bio should convey your skills and capabilities. What are you great at? Where do you shine? What’s your essential expertise?

It SHOULD be unique. Take your name out of your bio; could it describe at least one other person you know? That’s why the resume approach doesn’t work — a list of past positions makes you sound like everyone else in your market. What do prospects get in working with YOU that they don’t get from anyone else?

You need three versions of your professional biography: long form (for your website’s About page), mid-length (for speaking engagements and other external uses), short form (for social media).

In the spirit of full disclosure, here’s my professional biography.

Here’s one I wrote, for Enrich Creative principal Gretchen Schisla. Note that it describes Gretchen’s entrepreneurial spirit, connecting her with the type of client her firm thrives on working with.

And another, for NYC food photographer Evi Abeler. It references Evi’s childhood in Germany, setting the stage for her artistic vision. We recently worked together to update it.

Take a look at your bio. Maybe it’s due for a refresh? I can help you with that!

New work: Cincinnati Visitors Guide.

The Spring/Summer 2016 edition of the Cincinnati USA Official Visitors Guide shines a much-deserved spotlight on the city’s remarkable (and growing!) dining scene. For this feature package, I interviewed 5 leaders in dining, brewing and drinking around town. And the section included short stories on various aspects of local food, from connecting the dots between farm and table to Cincinnati’s brewing heritage, which dates to the 1800s. Check it out!

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New work: Edible Ohio Valley Spring issue.

This issue of Edible Ohio Valley magazine celebrates the ways that food can bring people together, lift folks up and make the world a little bit better.

Plus, isn’t the cover gorgeous?

Spring EOV coverFind this issue at your favorite Ohio Valley food purveyors, including the fabulous Dorothy Lane Market and Findlay Market, plus bookstores like Joseph-Beth.

New work: My Magazine for Kroger.

For quite awhile now, I’ve been contributing articles and recipes to Kroger’s My Magazine customer publication. It’s a fantastic collaboration with the team at 84.51°, the data and marketing agency that handles shopper communication for Kroger and its subsidiary brands. These guys really know what they’re doing, and it’s a blast to work with their creative team — the editor gives great direction and feedback, and the photo, food styling and design team make the words and recipes look mouthwatering. Take a look at some of our work together:

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New work: Healthy Living News for Meijer

I recently wrapped up work on a campaign for Meijer called Healthy Living News: I contributed content about wellness, healthy foods and lifestyle tips to this in-store consumer magazine. Working with the creative team at IN Marketing Services, we created four bimonthly publications of about 20 pages each. Take a look!

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You don’t suck at writing. You just need to get started.

Recently, I was having a “you can do it” sort of conversation with a client who’s stuck in the long, thankless-until-it’s-published slog of writing a book, when she asked me about my writing process. The answer I gave her was probably unhelpful: I tend to wait until inspiration strikes, at which point the piece pours from my fingertips almost fully formed.

No inspiration? No writing.

(At which point, I should acknowledge that it’s been monthsandmonths since I’ve published a post here on my professional website. See ‘inspiration’ above.)

But what if deadlines loom and there’s simply no time to wait for the muse to arrive? Lynda’s question about process got me thinking more introspectively about mine. So for her, and for any of you who struggle (don’t we all?) with writing, here are a few of my practices that might be helpful to you.

Consider the nature of the project. Personal essay-ish pieces, like these posts or ones for my recipe website, or my editor’s notes for Edible Ohio Valley, do require inspiration. Often, I’ll noodle on ideas while I’m doing something completely unrelated: My Edible editor’s notes are unfailingly written in my head while I’m out walking Peroni. Recipe ideas jolt when I’m eating something delicious at a restaurant or browsing cookbooks or magazines. With more technical writing, information is more critical than inspiration. Research and interviewing are the prompts I need to get started. See below.

Just open a blank document. I know: The prospect of facing a blank page is daunting, no matter what you’re creating. But I find that opening a blank document, and saving it — making the project real, giving it a name, a purpose — often gets me over the hump.

Start collecting inputs. In that newly opened document, I’ll stash snippets of online research material, interview questions, Wikipedia content, interesting quotes or insights I’ve gathered. For example, I’m currently writing a newsletter for a client on a marketing-related topic, one that I’m familiar with but not expert in. So I started by doing several Google searches and gathering ideas, images and information (being sure to save my sources so I can later either quote or cite the originals). Soon, I had pages of reference material to work with.

Organize the inputs. It’s easy to see patterns in the inputs: a theme for the piece, or common elements that can be grouped together. For example, I’ll cut and paste quotes from extensive interview notes in a linear fashion. Once I’ve organized the inputs, I have the skeleton of the piece.

Fill in the blanks. With that skeleton in place, I’ll add transitions between ideas, fill in supplemental information or explanation, make sure the content flows logically and add a conclusion that helps the reader understand the concept or creates a call to action.

This newsletter is itself a case study in process:

Inspiration > Blank document > Ideas > Organize > Fill in.

Some days, we all stare at that blank page/canvas/screen and think, “I. Can’t. Even.” But then we can.

Finding inspiration in Hemingway: Are you refilling?

“I had learned already never to empty the well of my writing; but always to stop when there was still something there in the deep part of the well, and let it refill at night from the springs that fed it.” — Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast

I have spent this summer refilling from the springs.

I have always been a reader; but the kid who devoured books one after another has, as an adult, found it difficult to consistently make time for reading. This summer has been different. I’ve moved from book to book, putting one down only to pick up another. I’ve felt almost hungry to read. It’s like eating Mexican Seven Layer Dip: I just. Cannot. Stop.

First, it was David McCullough’s “The Greater Journey,” a hefty nonfiction book about American writers, artists and physicians who flocked to Paris between roughly 1830 and 1900. These expats sought to perfect their crafts in what they saw as the most vital, creative life-giving city in the world.

When I finished it, I felt the need to stay in Paris, and to read about the next generation of writers and artists who went there in first two decades of the 20th century: Fitzgerald, Hemingway, Anderson, Picasso, the group that Gertrude Stein called “The Lost Generation.”

Eiffel_TowerSo I picked up “The Paris Wife,” Paula McClain’s fictional account of Hadley and Ernest Hemingway’s courtship and marriage and early life in Paris. And then, of course, I had to read Hemingway’s memoir of that same time, “A Moveable Feast” — a gorgeously written, heartbreaking book. Forty-some years later — after he and Hadley had divorced (and he’d married three other women in succession), after he’d undergone horrific electroshock therapy treatments for depression that had sapped his memory — Hemingway received two steamer trunks of letters, notebooks and old clothing that he’d left at the Hôtel Ritz in Paris in the 1920s. He stitched together those old writings and fragmented memories into “A Moveable Feast.”

The book is more than reflection on a marriage; it captures conversations among writers about the craft of writing. I’ve underlined passage after passage that inspire me — and maybe you, too, no matter what your creative discipline:

On keeping momentum in your work — “I always worked until I had something done and I always stopped when I knew what was going to happen next. That way I could be sure of going on the next day.”

On the struggle to begin, to face the blank page — “But sometimes when I was starting a new story and I could not get it going … I would stand and look out over the roofs of paris and think, ‘Do not worry. You have always written before and you will write now. All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.’ So finally I would write one true sentence, and then go on from there.”

On the need to seek out other writing as inspiration and respite from our own work — “When I was writing, it was necessary for me to read after I had written, to keep my mind from going on with the story I was working on.”

So, as the summer winds down, what are you doing to refill from the springs?

Let’s make work a nicer place.

I’m just back from three days at HOW Design Live — the premier event for folks in the creative professions (graphic and web design, advertising, marcomm and related fields). HOW remains close to my heart, since I spent many years managing the brand and helping to host the conference. (This year, I developed a content strategy, helped with a big chunk of writing and covered the event live on social media … big fun!)

Unexpectedly — and perhaps unintentionally — a prominent theme pulsed through the event, linking many of they keynote presentations. It was a theme of kindness. Simon Sinek talked about it. So did Tina Roth Eisenberg and Tom Peters. Brené Brown touched on it, too.

This event wasn’t JUST about the work — it was about being nice to each other at work. And people responded. Everyone I talked to had picked up on it. It was this sort of primal energy that fed the entire crowd.

Why?

As Simon Sinek pointed out, workplaces large and small have lost their way. Profits come before people. Workers are laid off without conscience, and the rest of the team are pressured to pick up the slack. The pace of work is inhumane. Technology is beyond disruptive; it’s poisonous. When did it become OK for managers to email employees on weekends and expect them to respond? When did the pace of work pick up such that people can’t even breathe, let alone connect with colleagues and create really incredible new ideas? Yes, companies exist to create profit — and in doing so create jobs and build communities — but so much of this profit focus is incredibly short term, and it’s destroying people.

Why do we think the independent workforce is booming now? People are getting off the freakin’ treadmill.

What do we do about this? Five keywords emerged at HOW Design Live, words that might point to a better path:

Trust. This is a big one. Companies don’t trust their employees to make smart decisions, to take ownership of their work, to fall and learn from mistakes. Employees don’t trust that companies have people (themselves, or their customers) as their primary focus. Trust isn’t an asset on a resume or a function on a job description. It’s earned. Managers earn trust by digging into the trenches, working alongside their teams, telling them, “I have your back” and then living those words. Employees earn trust by recognizing what needs to be done and stepping up, rising to challenges, being honest when they’re confused or when they make mistakes.

Truth. This goes hand in hand with trust, doesn’t it? In politically charged workplaces, it’s impossible to have honest conversations. People say one thing and do another, throw each other under the bus. Brené Brown talked about how we have to own our flaws, be honest about our failures — or others will use those things to define us. We have to control our own stories.

Try. I enjoyed hearing Angie Myung and Ted Vadakan, the founders of Poketo, talk about the by-the-seat-of-their-pants startup story. They moved in with Ted’s parents, picked and packed orders themselves, made some bad decisions about inventory. They just gave it a whirl, and now they have an influential brand that brings art into people’s everyday lives. They tried.

Treat. As in, treat people kindly. Why are there so many assholes? Where is it written that if you’re unsure about yourself or your capabilities you get to mask that by being a bully? One great piece of advice from Sinek: When someone asks for a minute of your time, close the laptop and put your phone in a drawer. Disconnect from technology — entirely — and give them your full attention. Attention, he said, is the purest form of generosity.

Thanks. Tom Peters gave an enjoyably curmudgeonly rant that wandered all over the map. But he ended with the two most important words in business: Thank you. Thank you speaks truthfully and builds trust. We don’t say ‘thank you’ enough.

So, let’s all commit to this, shall we: Say thanks every day (every hour?). Try stuff. Be nice. Be honest and authentic. Support each other to build trust. Put the phones away and just talk.

I’m in.