Brad Marley

Raise your hand if you’re paranoid.

If you work in PR, your hand probably shot up without asking your brain for permission.

While some would provide a rebuttal to the opening salvo of this post in the form of a “It’s PR, not ER”, they probably haven’t lied awake the night before a major announcement, running a mental marathon through every single bit of information being released to the press in the morning, fretting that something will go out that wasn’t approved. Frazzled and exhausted, you load up on coffee to make it through the 16-hour day of event staffing, pitching and monitoring that awaits you.

Forget the emergency room. This makes us yearn for a nice, padded cell.

The thought that one measly missing number in the client’s monthly sales, for instance, can cause their stock to plummet is enough to make us loony.

It’s this type of thought process that goes on inside the heads of PR people inside the cubes of America’s corporations. And it’s no fun, so I wanted to share a few tips that, I think, are worth considering if you’re the paranoid PR type.

Understand Your Limits – You have to understand, early on, that there is only so much you know. We are often at the mercy of an internal expert giving us information that we couldn’t possibly get ourselves, so we take what they tell us and put it in the press release. If they’re the only person who could possibly know the information is wrong, well, what can you do?

What’s Done is Done – After the documents have been signed off on by the proper people, and legal has checked them off, there is not much else you can do. Most PR people will re-check incessantly for errors [Editor's note: This is not a bad thing] but that will only get you so far. At some point, you have to put down the red pen.

Do Something Else - Like any kind of mental instability, the more you think about something, the worse it gets. If you stew over a piece of mis-information that you think you remember seeing in the press release that goes to the wire at 6 a.m. the following morning — you know, the one you’ve re-checked 50 times — you’re just going to drive yourself crazy. Go for a bike ride.

Trust Yourself – This likely isn’t your first rodeo. If your client trusts you with handling a big announcement, chances are they have faith in you for a reason. Continue to be diligent. Continue to do what you’re paid to do. If you do, everything will turn out fine. You’ve done this before. Go do it again.

Pour a Stiff Drink – If all else fails, do this.

Public relations is a competitive field, and there is always somebody gunning for your job. I think this plays a small role in this type of paranoia. But there’s also something to be said about hard and diligent work.

If you do the work you’re supposed to do, and do it to the best of your ability, chances are good, nay, excellent that everything will turn out fine.

So the next time paranoia starts to creep in, think of the made-up word “Aanoia.” It’s paranoia without the PR. Just the way we want it.

Image courtesy of Roberto Bouza’s Flickr page.

A couple of months ago, while lying in bed with my daughter during our nightly never-ending story fest before bedtime, I asked her what she wants to be when she grows up.

“Um, probably a princess,” she answered.

Then I asked her what I should be when I grow up.

Flabbergasted, she looked at me and said, “But, Dad, you already are grown up!”

Leave it to kids to give it to you straight.

Ever since that conversation with a three-year-old with a penchant for the obvious, I’ve been reflecting upon my “grown up” status. But it’s not as depressing as you might think.

See, I’ve always been enamored with stories.

Books. Newspaper articles. Magazine profiles. Radio interviews. If there is a tale being told, I will make time to listen.

Consequently, I grew up wanting to be a storyteller. I went to college to study radio. The plan was to host my own show someday; interview interesting people.  Maybe turn that into some type of cross-media hybrid journalistic role. But then I discovered my school only offered two radio classes.

Fail.

I had to find something else to do. So I got a PR internship with my mom’s friend who was the PR lead for a fledgling telecommunications company. (They would be purchased by a company called VoiceStream, which eventually became T-Mobile.)

Whether I liked it or not, I was inadvertently put on the path toward a career in public relations. When I went back to school the following semester, I started taking more classes with a PR slant. I figured, if radio wasn’t in the cards, I could always try out this PR thing.

As luck would have it, this “PR thing” stuck.

Before I started college, public relations was this fuzzy, clandestine industry I didn’t know a lot about. It certainly didn’t hold the same appeal that radio did.

But then my daughter told me I was old, and it got me thinking about my path in life.

After some reflection and late-night inner monologues with myself, I came to a realization: I am a professional storyteller.

I take information and angles from my client and turn it into a story. My day-to-day work involves trying to come up with different ways to tell stories.

Everything I’ve always wanted to do, I can do in this industry.

It’s a heady feeling; one I never really realized until I gave it some thought.

I guess I have my daughter to thank.

Those kids say the darndest things.

I’m going to start off this post by telling you something: I secretly want to be a journalist.

When I was a senior in high school, I wrote an article for the school paper on why our school didn’t have a hockey team. With a perfectly serviceable ice rink right next door to the school and hockey popularity in Michigan booming,  it seemed like a no-brainer. But our athletic director, who I interviewed for the piece, insisted we didn’t have the money to undertake a new team. So I filed my story and thought nothing else of it until I learned the following year that my high school now had a hockey team.

I will never know if my sorry excuse for a hard-hitting investigate piece changed any minds. But I had an inkling that my words incited some sort of re-thinking. And that’s a pretty powerful feeling.

In what was to become a recurring theme in my life, I never pursued this career avenue, mainly because the naysayers (those who moan the lack of income) won.

So when the opportunity arose late last year to do some freelance journalism on the side for the local Trenton page on Patch.com, you can bet your sweet caboose I jumped at the chance.

And ever since I started writing for this publication, it has changed my entire perspective of how I go about my day job in public relations. So, rather than keep these nuggets of advice to myself, I want to share four reasons why other PR pros should consider freelance writing.

1. Improve Your Writing – Let’s just get this one out of the way. The more writing you do, the better you will be. And writing different forms — feature stories vs. press releases — will exercise your writing muscle.

2. Think Like a Journalist – It’s funny. When I conduct interviews with my story subjects, I am doing the complete opposite work that I do when I host interviews with reporters. But by doing so, I’m learning to think more like a journalist by identifying the questions that will get to the heart of the story.

3. Get Better at Multitasking – I think it goes without saying that my day job takes precedence over my freelance writing. But I still need to coordinate and conduct interviews on my own time. I also have two little kids. Day job + kids + freelance writing commitments = learning to prioritize. I’ve found I am starting to get more out of my time, if that makes sense.

4. If You Got It, Flaunt It – Don’t let your talents go to waste. I know I’m not a terrible writer. And I like to do it. You would be surprised how many people hate the process. So I vowed to myself late last year that I would put my talent to good use for myself and my family. Otherwise, what’s the point of having a talent?

Are you a PR person and a freelance writer? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.

Image borrowed from noodlepie’s Flickr.

Jeff Pearlman might be my hero.

I first came across Mr. Pearlman’s work when I read his excellent book, “Boys Will Be Boys: The Glory Days and Party Nights of the Dallas Cowboys Dynasty”. (affiliate link)

From there, I stumbled upon his blog and immediately realized that he just might be the writer I strive to become, even as I enter the fourth decade of my life. I added his feed to my blog reader, and the rest is history.

His blunt writing style and willingness to open up to his readers makes him endearing, and I marvel at his ability to drive his point home every single time.

It’s not often someone as talented as he bares his soul, but I suppose that’s what I really admire about his writing.

So taken with his content, was I, that, on a whim, I reached out to see if he would participate in a quick session of the “Five and One.”

He graciously obliged.

Here is the conversation.

I hope you enjoy it.

(There’s even a kernel of PR advice hidden in here, so pay attention!)

Q: Why do you write?

Jeff:  Because I can’t sing or dance. That’s an old Karate Kid line. Truthfully, I’m not sure. There are a lot of reasons. I love the process. I’m competent at it. It’s allowed me to see things others never have access to. It allows me to ask questions you’re not really supposed to ask, according to general societal rules. It’s a challenge that drives me to the brink of insanity, yet also gives me great joy. All of the above.

Q: From reading your blog, I know you once worked for The Tennessean as a reporter. Assuming you received a fair amount of pitches from public relations professionals, what was the best way to get your attention?

Not sure, but I’m always a fan of the most honest and blunt PR people. Best publicist I’ve ever dealt with, hands down, is Kelly Swanson, whose primary focus is boxing. Kelly is the type who will call you and say, “Look, I have to tell you about so-and-so fight, and both of us know it’s not so hot. But I need to call you for my job. And in a few weeks I’ve got this great matchup between so and so and so and so. She’s honest, and willing to tell me when something’s crap. hence, I believe her when she says something’s great. If you call and say, “We’re selling this amazing Aaron Rodgers cheese head hat,” well, your cred is shot. Be honest.

Q: I loved “Boys Will Be Boys.” How (or why) did you decide to write a book about the Dallas Cowboys dynasty?

This is the least-sexy story ever. I was trying to figure out who to write about. I have a close friend, an attorney named Paul Duer, and he said, “Lemme ask around at work.” He had a co-worker named Mike Murphy who said, “How about the ’90s Cowboys.” It immediately hit me as a perfect sports book—hugely popular team, that era had never been written about in-depth, book was waiting to be done, etc.

Q: I would imagine that writing books for a living is both a dream come true and a nightmare. How do you force yourself to keep writing when you don’t necessarily have to?

Well, I do have to. Because books are the way I primarily make my living these days. But it’s more than that—I looooovvve the book process. It’s like a 100,000-piece jigsaw puzzle, and I’m trying to put it together. I’m motivated by that love, as well as by the looming deadline. It’s hanging there, and I know I have to get the book in or suffer hugely—my reputation, my career, finances.

Q: Which book do you wish you wrote?

Easy—Da Vinci Code. Because I’d be replying to you from my yacht.

Finally, the random question: I happen to think bands in the 90′s produced the best music of my lifetime – if you could only listen to one album from that decade for the rest of your life, which one would it be?

This is lame, but Big Bam Boom by Hall & Oates. Great hooks, some phenomenal songs.

During my junior year of college, way back in 2000, I wrote an article for a short-lived e-mag named ReWired. It was our English program's take on the more-popular magazine, Wired. For one of my submissions, I interviewed my friend's roommate to illustrate the pull of online chat rooms, which were probably at the height of their popularity. 

This is one of the better things I've written in my lifetime, so I wanted to share. I won't be offended if you stop halfway through.

It is funny, though, how our view of technology — and what is now commonplace — can change so drastically in a decade.

(If you get to the end and wonder where I am going with the quote from Thomas Laudal…yeah, I don't know, either.)

***

Pimpin: Hey, a/s/l check.

stargirl111: Yeah, I got a pic to trade. And I'm a hottie.

bowl_4_u: This room is whack. I'm outtie 5000.

cute_and_single: hi pimpin

jocksport456: u e-mail it first

pimpin394: Hi

In a typical chat room, like the one shown above, there are numerous conversations going on at once. People throw caution to the wind and take on personalities that sometimes are the complete opposite of their real life personas. For example, "stargirl111" is quite possibly not a "hottie" as she claims to be, but will say she is because she yearns to find that special someone in this virtual world. If the guy, or so he says, doesn't find her attractive, he will most likely ignore her the rest of the time or leave the chat room. "Stargirl111" will move on. And so the cycle begins for the upteenth time and certainly not the last time.

In a personal conversation, the body acts as a barometer for what the person really feels. The shuffling of feet could mean nervousness, shyness, or it could mean the person wants to get the hell out of that conversation. It would be considered rude to just walk away, especially if you know the person and will likely see them again. In a chat room, the body is taken out of the conversation.

The disappearance of the body is part of a new school of thought called "Virtual Reality Theory." Professors at colleges around the country are starting to believe in chat rooms as a new tool of teaching while some of us still see it as a way of flirting with the opposite sex. Either way we look at it, the two sides converge at one crucial point: The Body. After looking at the the issue from two different angles, we begin to see how.

What About Bob?

Bob is a twenty-year old Sales and Marketing Director for a manufacturing company in Michigan. Bob has some college education since he was going to school to study mechanical engineering before taking this job. He is single and shares a condominium with a friend he used to work with. Bob spends a lot of his free time in chat room.

Since discovering America Online, Bob is somewhat addicted to these rooms. As he logs on, I notice that his Buddy List contains over 80 "friends," ninety-five percent of whom he has never met. "I basically see the Internet as a way to meet new people," Bob says. As he sits down, a friend from the "real world" sends him an instant message (IM). "THis is my friend Frank from Germany. I communicate with him on-line because I'm too cheap to call him," Bob explains.

Only 10-15 "friends" on his Buddy List are guys. The majority are girls that he has met on-line. They are mostly local girls since he considers talking to non-locals a waste of time. "I don't like talking to people from, say, Utah. And, I'm not very fond of Mormons." As we are talking and chatting, one of his "friends" comes on-line. "Oh look, it's Dana!" Bob has never met Dana in real life even though they have been chatting for nearly two years now. "She's fun to talk to and her birthday is October 31st and I thought that was interesting," he says. "Besides, she has had a boyfriend the whole time."

Out of all the girls that Bob has met online, he has only met five of them in real life. He even dated one of them (Sarah) for six months, and he had the pictures to prove it. He told me that all five acted the same way in real life than they did in the chat rooms. I was curious about this, so I asked Bob if we would have gone up and started talking to Sarah if she just happened to be walking by. "I would want to," said Bob. "But would you?" I asked. "No."

Bob has been on-line 20 minutes and he already has six conversations going at one time. He has spoken with a few of these before but most of them he just met. "Gotta find a common link to start a conversation," Bob explains as he IMs a girl asking where she is from. Once he finds out she went to high school fifteen minutes away, the conversation begins. As they chat, I pursue the issue further about the difference between chat room conversations and a real life conversation. "The bluntness is beautiful because you can be (blunt)," he says. "You don't have to worry about being smacked." I think it is safe to say that there is a different persona on-line than there is off-line. To back his statement up, Bob says: "I would never approach a girl in real life because out of pure shyness. It is more difficult to approach a girl in person. The Internet is easier. If I don't like the conversation, I can click 'Cancel'."

Bob goes into a Detroit chat room to try and meet some more girls. After only a few minutes of trying, he meets a girl named "Sunnflower." She has a picture to send but only if Bob sends his first. They swap photos, and Bob likes what he sees. He tels her that she is "a definite cutie." "I like to see if there is a picture before I waste my time talking to them," he says. While he is talking to "Sunnflower", Bob starts looking through profiles of other users who are online. Thanks to the freedom of chat rooms, Bob doesn't have to talk to anyone he doesn't want to. Hiding behind the veil of a computer screen in the comfort of his own home, Bob is able to pick and choose the ones he shall talk to. If he doesn't want to talk to them, they won't know the difference. It's not like they see him staring at them from across the room, either.

He reads the profile of "JodyGirl0213" and it says that she is an administrative assistant. "That means she is boring," he says, referring to her job, "but let's see if she's hot."

Chat Rooms in the Classroom

At the University of Detroit-Mercy, Sister Christian Koontz is taking a giant step in making these chat rooms, once thought of as strictly a recreational tool, a part of Academia. She teaches a class in English called "The Journal." Her class can meet her in a chat room and discuss or ask her questions. The chat rooms are provided by a listserv service called Egroups. Although hesitant to talk about the advantages and disadvantages of chat rooms, due to the fact that she herself is still learning, Sister Koontz thinks that there is a gigantic upside to this idea. "I do think chat rooms have significant, and as far as I am aware, largely untapped, value to academic discourse," she explained through an e-mail. "I see the chat room as a fertile intermediary space, bridging personal journaling and formal academic writing, a space where students can write, to a certain extent, out of an atmosphere, attitudes, and orientation similar to that[sic] I believe to be the most conducive to effective journal work and begin to give rhetorical form to their writing, almost without realizing it because audience presence is real to them yet not so intimidating as a physically present audience is," Koontz added.

The last part of her statement can be directly connected to what our friend Bob said about talking on-line. Sister Koontz's students find it easier to talk when they can't see anyone or don't know who they are talking to, and there is no body to deal with in these conversations.

Toward the end of the e-mail message, Sister Koontz said that she advocates a "considerable application" of Harrison Owen's theories on "Open Space Technology." Open Space Technology is one way to enable all kinds of people, in any kind of organization, to create inspired meetings and events. Over the last 15 years, it has also become clear that opening space, as an intentional leadership practice, can create inspired organizations, where ordinary people work together to create extraordinary results with regularity. Sister Koonts is trying to get her students to reach this goal through the power of virtual reality.

We once thought of online classes as something that would happen in the future. Five years ago, we imagined a world where we could get out of bed, turn on the computer, and attend classes in our underwear. Well, now we can. Students don't have to be worried about making a dumb comment or walking into class late and being stared at; with on-line classes, we lose the human element that comes with "regular" classes. Chances are, no student knows what any of the other students look like, and therefore, that have no reservations about participating in class. The potential for embarrassment is just nonexistent.

The Fate of the "Real World"

In the real world, there is something us humans like to call "fate." We have no power over it and it controls every move we make. In a virtual world, would fate be a possibility? If we programmed these worlds, wouldn't we be playing God and thus, determining fate? To quote Thomas Laudal on this issue, he says: "People make VWs (virtual worlds) while God, or something/something quite different than people, created the real world. Does this distinguish the real world from the virtual worlds? Hardly. The truth is that we don't have a clue who — or what — created our real world. But even if we knew for a fact that people like ourselves did NOT create the real world, this would not be a significant difference between virtual and real worlds…"

The significant issue here is that most people in chat rooms, like Bob and Sister Koontz'[sic] students, view it as a "fake" world. Quite the opposite of the real world, they can do things in this "fake" world that they wouldn't normally do. The students, who would be terrified of public speaking in real life, can speak in front of a large number of people while sitting at home in a robe.

These chat rooms are, in a sense, small virtual worlds where the "citizens" leave their bodies at home and explore unknown territories. The "souls" come and go as they please and there are no repercussions. Anyone can get away with anything. At least anything they say can be dismissed since actions do not speak louder than words.