Book Review: The Elements of Content Strategy

The Elements of Content Strategy by Erin Kissane (New York: A Book Apart, 2011. 86 pp)

Erin Kissane is a content strategist and editor based in New York City and Portland, Oregon. She was an editor at A List Apart magazine for nearly ten years, and has also been a freelance book editor and the editorial director of Happy Cog Studios. In 2011, she joined content strategy consultancy Brain Traffic, where she leads content projects and eats cake.

Now More than Ever, College Is the Best Time in Life 

Have you seen the job statistics lately? More to the point, have you seen the employment rates for recent college graduates? What about liberal arts majors in particular? A study of 2009 college graduates finds 25.2% of liberal arts majors unemployed after graduation. Those humanities majors employed often found their jobs low paying and college degrees unnecessary.

For years, the general assumption was: get a degree; get a job. Well the current economic context suggests a shift for college students. Either stay in school and earn more degrees, or major in a “marketable” field like accounting, business management, or engineering.

Could there be a third way? In The Elements of Content Strategy, Erin Kissane outlines content strategy as an emerging profession.

All Hail King Internet 

In case you haven’t noticed, the Internet runs the world these days. While some residual value remains in businesses running brick-and-mortar stores, the Internet is now the marketplace, a virtual mall so to speak.

With the rise of Internet communications comes the necessity of content strategy. Kissane writes,

“Content strategy is rising because organizations all over the world have begun to realize that they desperately need it to handle their rapidly expanding online communications” (2).

Not only do individual businesses need content to communicate with potential customers, Internet surfers desire content. Blogs and social media have replaced the days of the newspaper as the arbiter of information. Content, then, becomes the connection between a business and its potential customers.

“Content is perfectly appropriate for users when it makes them feel like geniuses on critically important missions, offering them precisely what they need, exactly when they need it, and in just the right form” (5).

If content bridges the gap between businesses and customers, the job of a content strategist is to connect these two parties by facilitating a web space meeting the needs of both parties.

The Content Strategist: An Amalgamate Profession 

Interestingly, Kissane breaks down the job of the content strategist into 4 separate professions:

“Though it lacks a goat head, content strategy also has a legacy. Several, in fact. And each has plenty to teach us. A complete genetic breakdown would require a separate book, so for now, let’s consider the four most influential fields: editorial work, curatorial work, marketing and persuasion, and information science” (16).

Editorial and marketing work appear self-evident. In order to create compelling content one needs to both remain consistent in formatting and grammar, and also write persuasively. In fact, information science, too, makes sense given its role in effectively storing and retrieving information.

But the curator field piques my interest. Curators conjure a vision of uptight tour guides in museums and overly informed janitors dusting ancient relics. But a curator, in truth, balances the job of an administrator and an artist. A curator not only knows what sine qua non forms of art an audience wants to see, s/he will also apprehend the need for benches and restrooms through the museum.

Similarly,

“On the web, we deal with each other in heavily mediated ways, but we’re still primates. We need accommodations for the thousand disabilities that we experience; ways of marking and saving information for later so we can take breaks; ways of skipping through content when we’re in a hurry; friendly orientation and navigation aids; access to real human assistance, via live help, telephone, email, or any other reasonable channel; and the ability to consume content on the devices and in the locations of our choice” (27).

Are You Looking for a Job?

A veritable mix of editor, curator, marketer, and scientist, the content strategist runs the engine of the business website. More importantly for those unemployed college graduates, a content strategist requires the skills of liberal arts majors.

An emerging field in a marketplace still suffering growing pangs, the world needs more content strategists. Look for entry-level jobs in web editorial, online marketing, or information management. You might soon find a lucrative career in content strategy. If you want to learn more, read The Elements of Content Strategy.

Verdict: 4 out of 5

Are you unemployed and seeking a job? Have you considered content strategy? What drawbacks could arise in this profession?
Share your thoughts below.

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Posted by: Donovan Richards

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Book Review: The Fallback Plan

The Fallback Plan: A Novel by Leigh Stein (New York: Melville House, 2012. 219 pp)

Leigh Stein is a first-time author. She lives in New York where she works in children’s book publishing and teaches musical theatre. Her upcoming release, Dispatch from the Future is a collection of poems to be released in June 2012.

Prolonged Adolescence

As a musically-minded individual teaching choir, I’ve always wondered: what is my fallback plan? What would I do if I couldn’t get a job? I’ve luckily never been thrust into that scenario, but many holding an arts degree are. The sad truth is that the arts degree doesn’t do much in the marketplace. Sure, it helps hone one’s craft; it helps someone to become a better musician, painter, or actor. However, no art gallery, bar scene, or theatre will say “you have a degree, you’re hired!”

A lucky few find a job with the aid of their degree, while others succumb to corporate life or barista-hood. Some, however, choose not to deal with the problem and move in with their parents in order to usher in an era of prolonged adolescence. Leigh Stein paints such a person, Esther (a pseudonym for herself), in her novella The Fallback Plan.

Esther Kohler is a recent college graduate, and like so many others, completely unemployed with no prospect on the horizon. She ends up living with her parents, much to her disdain. She slides through life in the doldrums whilst drinking with her friends, Jack and Pickle. In contrast to the rest of the world, absolutely nothing happens in her life.

“In June, the monsoons hit Bangladesh. Chinese police discovered slaves in a brickwork factory who couldn’t be sent home because they were too traumatized to remember anything but their own names, and Dr. Kevorkian was released from prison. In other news, I moved in with my parents” (3). 

Like so many graduates of the arts, she is forced to rely on a fallback plan, or at the very least, figure out what it would be.

The Joys of Getting a Job 

As a graduate with the not-so-sought-after emphasis in theatre, Esther has no hope in the world for a job. So, she decides to get a job in babysitting. Well, she doesn’t so much decide to do so—it’s thrust on her by her parents.

“I couldn’t believe I now had a job. My job was going to be playing with a four-year-old? Part of my brain immediately attempted to calculate the amount of money I’d get to spend on screenwriting books after I paid my parent’s rent, part of my brain said, You’re stoned, about to go on a drug run, and someone is going to trust you with their small child, and part of my brain cast me as Marry Poppins in an adaptation directed by Stanley Kubrick” (23).

But, in the process of babysitting, she befriends the mom (her employer) and the daughter. The mom lost her first child, and by looking into her life, finds that depression can be deeply seated. Esther herself has been struggling with depression, both during and after college, and is having trouble coming to terms with her feelings.

“I knew I was depressed, but my hope was that maybe there was a brain tumor at the root of all this, something that would show up on a map of my cerebrum, something excisable. And then I came across the word weltschmerz” (69).

Weltchmerz is defined as a mental depression or apathy caused by comparison of the actual state of the world with an ideal state. It’s a mood of sentimental sadness. Esther, no doubt a mirror image of Leigh Stein, has to work through this sentimental sadness and figure out how to make life work. Forced to come to grips with her situation, this coming-of-age story is inextricably intimate and funny at the same time.

The Fallback Plan paints a depressing and accurate picture regarding the status of the liberal arts degree in the United States. But by no means am I advocating for the lack of arts in schools, nor am I painting them as worthless. I teach the arts, have two degrees in music, and find them completely worthwhile. In fact, arts and music make your brain work harder on analytical pursuits. Some businesses are even hiring music majors in lieu of those with business degrees because of their creative brains. The point I’m trying to make is that if you’re pursing arts, don’t expect your degree to work for you. Rather, work for your degree.

Anyone who likes author David Sedaris, or even something like Pulphead by John Jeremiah Sullivan would enjoy this work of fiction. It’s honest, witty, and works through some pretty deep issues. I think that the book could have been longer and explored some of the stories a little more deeply, but all in all The Fallback Plan is a good read.

Verdict: 3 out of 5

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Posted by: Andrew Jacobson

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Looking for a Job? Consider Writing a Personal Biography

We all want to grab the attention of someone we hope to impress, and we’re tempted to do just about anything to be noticed. Remember Elle Wood’s pink and scented resume in Legally Blonde? She is not alone; officious employees have tried a myriad of attention grabbing techniques over the decades.

Photo by Jason Tavares

With a new crop of fresh graduates submitting resumes on the open market, Michael Margolis at the 99% suggests in a recent article entitled, “The Resume Is Dead, The Bio is King” that job applicants should reconsider submitting a weighty resume in an effort to impress. Instead, a well-crafted narrative will do a better job of piquing the interest of potential business associates.

On the surface, the reason for the shift in viewpoint seems simple: thumbing through a large stack of resumes can be a daunting and mind-numbing task for potential employers. A captivating bio can break the monotony of an endless sea of self-reported accomplishments, former employers, and schools attended.

Richard Nelson Bolles in What Color is Your Parachute writes, “an employer is going through a whole stack of resumes, and on average he or she is giving each resume about eight seconds of their time… Then that resume goes either into a pile we might call ‘Forgeddit,’ or a pile we might call ‘Bears further investigation’” (73).

The bio, as Margolis suggests, has a greater chance of ending up in the second pile because it helps the employer distinguish who one really is beyond a tedious list of deeds done.

But the bio, apart from offering a release from the monotony of reviewing resumes, has a deeper influence: the human psyche seems predisposed to story. From an early age, we are drawn to the hero or heroine, enraptured by the ensuing conflict or struggle that inevitably comes, and renewed by a character’s victory or hope of redemption. As children, stories ignite our imagination when protagonists battle dragons and slyly outwit venomous villains. In The Uses of Enchantment, Bruno Bettelheim writes, “Like all great art, fairy tales both delight and instruct; their special genius is that they do so in terms which speak directly to children” (53). And we might add, adults, too. We never lose our appetite for a good story.

And herein lies our point: story transforms who we are as human beings. We’re shaped by it, and we shape it. When we tell our story (or attend to the story of another), we wake up and experience more of life. Story, like few other experiences, stirs passions and remembrances of days foregone, and reminds us that pain from failure and disillusionment from broken promises can bring growth. Through story we become more human.

Photo by Stephen Poff

In A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, Donald Miller asserts, “I’ve wondered, though, if one of the reasons we fail to acknowledge the brilliance of life is because we don’t want the responsibility inherent in the acknowledgement. We don’t want to be characters in a story because characters have to move and breathe and face conflict with courage. And if life isn’t remarkable, then we don’t have to do any of that; we can be unwilling victims rather than grateful participants” (59).

Yes, in today’s limping economy a bio might increase your prospects of landing a job, which is good news for the job seekers out there. But maybe you should write your bio with a desire to become more integrated, as well as connected to the world around you. Drafting a resume is safe; penning your story and sharing it with others requires risk and fortitude. In a slowly recovering economy, let’s take time to look inward, outward, and upward. It is these postures of learning and our capacity to intuit self and the larger world that makes one truly desirable in organizational life.

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John Terrill is the director of the Center for Integrity in Business.

Donovan Richards is the research assistant for the Center for Integrity in Business.