PR Via Status Updates: The HARO Effect?

The inimitable Peter created a Facebook group earlier this year (as you know) to distribute reporters' requests for interviews. Since then, it's grown into - as Kevin puts it - "a free media source matchmaking service with more than 14,000 members."

So yes, part of this is, Peter's asked for plugs. And if you are or know anyone who is or wants to be an expert in anything, or if you do or know anyone who does ever need to quote an expert in anything, you really should go sign up.

But what's specially interesting is how he's promoting it today. He asked subscribers (free brainstorming) for social-media ways to get attention (free publicity). And the winner - unfortunately I don't have her name, because she deserves credit for a genius idea Laura Ackerman - suggested asking subscribers to put a promotional tagline on their social-network status messages on one day. So, today, you're likely to see, on Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, etc., “Get sourced. Get quoted. Get famous: http://www.helpareporter.com – putting journalists and sources together, one quote at a time.”

Iit's a fantastic direct social-media PR idea. Simple concept, minimal effort, quantitative results. And so I'm super curious to hear whether it's actually successful. A jump in subscribers today will tell a lot about how strong the connection really is between the influence of networks and actual action.

So, yes, if you want to see who reporters want to talk to, go sign up for the HARO list, and massive props to the anonymous idea girl Laura. Cool stuff: let's see if it works.

Updated to add Laura's name, and to note that with the day not yet over, it's tracking to quadruple the average daily number of new subscribers to the mailing list. Seriously, I love this stuff, don't you?

A Bit of Groveling, and Then Giraffe Charades

You're far too lovely, and I've been neglecting you for far too long, dear Interblogiversinet. I could excuse myself, but - say it with me - there's no excuse for me. 

So instead of excuses, I present you the best gift I know: Eddie Izzard miming a giraffe eating leaves. Because nothing in this world makes me happier. And that's what I got to see this weekend, with two of my favorite people and a splendid bottle of Sancerre, and despite the fact that I was breaking out into full-body hives, it was wonderful.

(What you need to know in order for all of this to make sense: the only noise giraffes can make is a cough, tigers are not native to Africa, Rennie Mackintosh chairs have very high backs, and I am apparently allergic to carpet cleaning.)

Serious content, you ask? Coherent sentences? Content with a point? Where is all that, you ask?

Dear Internet, do you not know that it's summer? And it's hot? Particularly if you're airing whatever itch-making chemicals remain in the lovely home that's about to be yours, so you've got all the windows open and the air conditioning off?

Serious content in time. Meanwhile, go make mama a margarita. There's a good Internet.

"Good, Loving and Hopeful"

It figures that after two weeks of radio silence over here, it's Tracy that gets me motivated.

Two brief notes in my defense. One, I'm hoping to make a big change shortly, and that hasn't been able to happen yet. Two, I've been busy with things. Insanely busy with wonderful things. However, is either of those a decent excuse? Of course not! So I'll write like a mad thing to make up for it.

But in the meantime... Tracy.

Whose blog you already know and love for her amazing, intellectual, visceral, funny look at life. (Her life being twice as cool as anyone else's, with her combination of career, gifted child, crazy husband, extreme sports, but oh yes, also fiendishly complicated by an eight-years-running grudge match with Stage IV cancer.)

But now, you can also see Tracy on NPR, as part of the My Cancer community's photo gallery. She's picture 5. Looking, of course, like a badass, and making the extremely good point that for her - and in a smaller way, for all of us - what we have good in our life is OUR choice. Bad things can happen to us - but we never lose the power to bring in the good things.

A pretty strong concept. Unsurprising, given the source.

So anyway, that's the fast news. Stay tuned for long-promised changes and stories of journeys in social media evangelism, slogs through the legal morass toward newly minted home ownership, and other thrilling adventures.

But in the meantime - go lookit Tracy.

On Bruises

Yesterday's hacking cough has been replaced by today's raspy voice. Between that and my mockery of "heat closings" (In my day schools didn't have air conditioning! You went in your neighbor's pool after school! And then you slept on the floor! You didn’t have air conditioning! Or your own pool! Uphill! Both ways!) I sound like a leathery retiree in Palm Beach. (Except it’s hot there, too, so no thanks.) So it's nice to type instead of talk.

. . .

I post professional stuff a lot, and I like that. (Incidentally, I heard a commercial this morning in which they compared working at Wawa to social networking. I died a small, quiet, geeky death.) I'm very proud of what I do in that vein, but that doesn't change that this still is a personal space. It's a weird balancing act to maintain, but one I think is worth doing.

All of which to say, beware, personal post ahead.

. . .

“Not the pain of this but its unfairness was what dazed Peter. It made him quite helpless. He could only stare horrified. Every child is affected thus the first time he is treated unfairly. All he thinks he has a right to when he comes to you to be yours is fairness. After you have been unfair to him he will love you again, but he will never afterwards be quite the same boy. No one ever gets over the first unfairness; no one except Peter. He often met it, but he always forgot it.” - Peter Pan, J.M. Barrie

I have awfully high expectations. Of life. Of myself. Of other people. So you’d think I’d be accustomed to unending disappointment, not least in myself. But, like Peter Pan, I never seem to remember. (Peter had the excuse of being a fairy tale. What’s mine?)

Since I am only friends, conveniently, with amazing people (they’d agree), it’s easy to believe in them, think better of them, expect more of them. But I’ve had a few disappointments lately of both sorts - letting someone down, and the other way round.

They’re learning experiences. Or would be, except I don’t seem to learn a thing. And maybe it's the stubbornness in me, but truly, I think I’d rather not. Why not expect the world? It might not feel great when you get proven wrong, but isn't it worth it for the rest of the time?

. . .

However, in other and more important places, stories that are not mine to tell, and situations that I can’t imagine being in, are being gone through right now by people who don’t deserve a bit of it about and about whom I care tremendously. If you pray, if you believe in karma – heck, if you believe in fairies – say a few words, clap your hands, do whatever you do to send some good vibes out into the universe for them. Please.

. . .

So, this week is working hard to change what I can – my attitude, if nothing more is within my power. (And, more prosaically, to get out of my car. 500 miles this weekend was a bit extreme.) So far, it’s going swimmingly. Yesterday I had a fantastic lunch with the splendidly fun and smart new pharmaceutical reporter for PRWeek, and had an equally fantastic workout last night. My right toe is now an interesting shade of purple. (From tae kwon do, not lunch.)

And every time I wiggle it I remember that bruises are at least a sure sign that you’re moving. Maybe you did do something dumb to deserve them, but more likely it was just an accident.

So. Don't be afraid to move – and think some good thoughts while you’re at it - and try not to focus on the bruises you get along the way. Not a bad goal for my day today.

Weekly Roundup: Filthy Gorgeous

More cleaning out of the del.icio.us, two categories this time:

Kitcheny

• The Perfect Pantry
• The Cook's Thesaurus
  
• Pea soup from a Fug Girl
• Something to do with spaghetti squash
• Cookies for a cause
• Pretty
  

Techie

• Woot (now with Woot Wine!)
  
• Slickdeals
• A card reader that makes me go oooh

And a reminder: for getting back into yourself, sweat and endorphins help. Filthy feels gorgeous. And I am definitely filthy.



Lastly and very, very importantly, a stunningly happy birthday to Sac. Filthy/gorgeous indeed. I know you had a wonderful day.

Social Media Is for Gi-irls

I was talking to Doug earlier this week about how one of the reasons why I'm loving social media is that I'm not always the only girl in the room anymore. (A situation usually marked by that *blink* when a guy realizes that you somehow have two X chromosomes AND a working understanding of technology.)

And now Colleen has just written about how women are all over the relationship-driven aspect of social media. (And Gary has vlogged with a very important reminder about how all of your relationships are worth valuing. Quality, not quantity.)

Anyway, I love that people I think are amazing are all talking about this. My socnets aren't mostly female, but that because that's the way I am in regular life. I don't think the exact balance is key - the thing is that there IS balance.

And my main follow-on thought from Colleen's article is, I wonder if the power of social media is going to be the final straw that breaks the glass ceiling. Who knows, right?

It doesn't matter how old you get, girl power is still nice. (*In a Ladies Who Launch kind of way, not in a Sex and the City kind of way.)

Post Number Nine Hundred

Well, damn.

When I started this, I never thought I'd have 900 things to write about. (And perhaps some of you think I haven't, ha ha.)

Then, I was desperately trying to figure out the transition from college - what I wanted to do with my life, how I fit into my professional and personal spheres, how they fit me. All I knew was that I wanted to write about it all while I did it.

Six years later, I'm delighted with where I am, both personally and professionally, but - of course - still trying to figure out how the world fits me, and how I fit it. Less desperation, thankfully, but just as much curiosity.

And this place has changed to match.

I can offer useful commentary on my profession - public relations, the pharmaceutical industry, social media, and how they all fit together.

(However, I still like pop music, silly links, pretty things, and shiny bits of technology. Some things won't ever change.)

Thank you for reading. Sincerely. It's an honor to know that you think I'm worth the time. And while it's always a nice place to air out my opinions, it's ever so much better when it's a conversation.

So I'll try to make sure this stays worth its place in your RSS reader. And don't worry. I'll keep talking in the meantime.

With love and appreciation.

I Think It's Stress

Personal Development, Canine-Style

(via Nan - and it led me to a great site and some good music.)

This was perfect to read right now. I'm tired and sick and all I want to do is loll around in the grass barefoot next to somebody who's going to lick my hand and maybe run with me later.

Nothing's really wrong - there's lots of wonderful stuff going on, and the only truly bad things in my life are worries about a few of my friends and the very real problems they're dealing with.

Me, I don't have anything that a nap in the sunshine couldn't handle.

T, I think I'm borrowing Murphy and Judah next weekend.

Happy Summer: Soundtrack Edition

I don't think I've ever linked to a Myspace music profile, but I'm completely in love with a song El just sent me.

(It's from a Brooklyn reggae kid, it's on the French dance charts - it's weird, of course I like it!)

But really - go listen to Nicco's Destination and tell me you're not ready for summer.

Pratfalls and Other Technological Events

So: today.

I wake up at 3 a.m. to catch my flight home. I work on the flight, so upon getting to my connection, I need one of those rare-as-diamond outlets. The only one I can find is far from my gate.

At this point, I’ve completely forgotten four things: I’m on far less sleep than I usually function with. I’m on a shorter-than-usual layover. I’m in a different time zone than I’ve left or than I’m going to. And neither my laptop nor my Blackberry clocks update the time zone. So I'm tapping away, working and IMing and Twittering.

If you guessed that the story ends up with me exhausted, humiliated, furious with myself, and on a later flight, you’d be right.

A friend told me this was because of my over-reliance on technology. I think she just meant I needed to wear a watch. But maybe she's even more right: maybe this is a fantastic, irony-bathed example of the ills of social media. Coming back from a conference on all this trendy new technology, all hopped up on its coolness and promise... I miss my flight, while hooked up to all this so-called helpful technology. I'm my own cautionary tale on the useless distraction that is social media.

Yeah. That was definitely part of the mortification. But. While I completely, undeniably, did something stupid, the thing is, I've never required technological assistance to do stupid things. I’ve been doing them all my life, and I’m sure I’ll keep doing them, with or without anything electronic nearby. Nothing I was logged into or out of created my stupid mistake.

But on the other hand, technology put me in touch with people who (despite my aforementioned proclivity to do stupid things) care about me. And when you’re feeling alone, dejected, and very, very foolish, that can be the best thing in the world.

After some commiseration and some old-fashioned sympathy, I felt less alone in my stupidity. Moreover, I felt less alone, period.

So is social media a concatenation of distractions that can leave you overstimulated, confused, distracted, and unable to focus, like the naysayers argue? Absolutely.

But people argue that about the internet overall. About computers. About television. Probably Moses took crap from people who didn’t like stone tablets.

And they’re always right. Because like McLuhan said, the purpose of technology is to take your regular capacities as a human further. To imagine, to converse, to learn, to hear, to see. It’s like a pair of stilts. If you don’t get the balance right, you’ll fall down, it’ll hurt, and you’ll look pretty stupid. But if you do, you can be head and shoulders above those who aren’t bothering to try.

So I’ll just keep wobbling along and try not to mind the bruises.

Edited to add related link.

Overheard at Work

Nobody believes me when I mention the things that come up at work. So today I took notes.

"Okay, so, new this week..."
"Nudist week?"
"Nudist week!"

"Nobody puts pancreatic cancer in the corner."

"You'd flagellate me if I asked you to."

(Context would provide no additional logic, don't worry. And this was only one meeting.)

Ever-Increasing Possibilities

...for public humiliation.

I kid, I kid.

...well, sort of. I ran my first 5K.

...well, sort of. It's not my first, it's just the first time I ever tried to run one. And I didn't; I broke down and walked for a couple of minutes midway through. And my time was unspeakably dismal -

...well, sort of. It's speakable, it's just dismal -

Wow. And it's actually wrong on the official site, I just noticed. Two of our group had the same first name, we finished one after the other, and somehow they mixed up our times.

ANYWAY, my point is, because I DO have one, and it IS an optimistic one, and I'm NOT focusing on the bad stuff like it sounds like I am, my point is that I DID IT, and I truly AM happy about it. I don't have to be scared of it anymore, and I can cross it off my goals list, and I can just do it again and do it faster next time!

2500703090_77f8a9b5d4_o
Originally uploaded by Saranne03

And there were some perks, even besides all that. An unbelievably gorgeous morning with great people who were ridiculously proud of me, and who in two cases did their own record-ish things for themselves - made it all pretty nice.

And really, how often do you get the chance to get schooled by an eight-year-old in two different sports before brunch? It's got to be healthy to get your ego that firmly in check.

(Although that's usually accomplished pretty effectively just by having the ever-awesome Tracy around.)

Be More Social. But Also, Fact-Check.

An overdue explanation and apology for misunderstanding, misinterpreting, jumping to conclusions and just altogether being me.

(Please read this post or this conversation will make zero sense.)

Tracy: A public notice that my reading comprehension skills suck?!
Sarah: Wha?
Tracy: The blog, baby. The blog!
Sarah: It was not! You read his blog and took it personally. Now you read MY blog and take IT personally.
Tracy: Harrumph. Did not.
Sarah: Did too!
Tracy: The post came across to me as... if you don't keep up on technology, you WILL get left behind. Not ME personally, but everyone who doesn't start Twittering.
Sarah: Well, sorta, but it's like, don't just try to figure out how to play these new technologies your way or try to ignore them - keep learning and keep an open mind.
Tracy: See. You have just implied that my reading of his post was incorrect.
Sarah: Not incorrect. I just see it SLIGHTLY different. CRIKEY, LADY.
Tracy: Stop yelling at me biotch!

...some time later...

Tracy: Hey, what if, hypothetically, you got all riled up about the wrong guy?
Tracy: http://www.pr-squared.com/2008/04/get_into_twitter_or_get_outta.html
Tracy: I'm just sayin'.
Tracy: It could happen. You know. Possibly.

Sorry Miss T. You were right. But, then, you already knew that.

Harder Better Faster Stronger

This was the most beautiful day of the year so far. And for the first time in weeks, I got to get out at lunchtime. And this time, I ran the farthest I've ever run.

(I would've said furthest, but Doug would correct me again. And he'd still be right.)

Anyway, I was feeling chipper when I got back from my lunch break. Pretty proud of my three and a half miles. (Four, if you count walking to and from the track.)

Then I read about Peter's marathon training.

I tend to be the littlest bit competitive. So being reminded that, for many people, my gasping little trot is not the smallest fraction of what they would consider a difficult workout... sort of put a puncture in my balloon.



I'm not saying it should have. I know. But it did. I'm just like that.

But then I went to tae kwon do.

The thing I love about that place is that nobody ever thinks I can't do anything. The assumption is always that I can. And the thing about that is, sometimes they're wildly wrong - but only the first time. Because eventually, no matter how crazy I think they are for thinking I can, they're always right. I always can.

And tonight the class was just the way I like it. Terrifyingly, appallingly, out of my league. Two dozen black belts getting ready for their test... and me.

(I am not a black belt. Not even close. I am not going to be a black belt for years.)

But tonight, they were doing the physical requirements for the black belt test. So that's what I did. And a full class of forms (well, the ones I know, anyway) and kicks and sprints. And I learned some grappling.

It wasn't until I was nearly done that I realized that the reason I was so tired was not just because they'd all been training for years longer than me. Or because I hadn't slept much. Or because it was nine o'clock. It was because of those three and a half miles.

But I still did it. So yeah. I don't brag usually because I don't usually think I have much to brag about. But today I'm close to satisfied with myself, and that feels nice.

Now, though, I'm going to go soak my bruises.

Home Sweet Home

Growing up, our neighborhood was mostly wooded acre lots, so most neighbors weren't usually very close - geographically or emotionally.

Especially after college, but really starting in high school, I was a bit of a nomad for a while. I always had a mailing address, but I was just as often somewhere else. Apart from Wroxton, I didn't usually call anyplace home.

But now, my mortgage application is with the underwriters. The appraiser just left. I've got four painters' estimates coming. It's not official yet, and all my fingers are still crossed (well, not really, I'm typing, but you understand the metaphor) - but the point is, it's getting there.

I'm about to not just have a home, I'm about to buy a home. My home.

This is, to put it briefly, a big deal. And one that I'm sure will knock me sideways and cause repeated spells of hysterical freaking out. Because that's how I do. I know it's full of responsibilities and expenses and probably a handful of lonesomeness.

But I love that it feels like a treehouse. I love leaving the windows open all day. I love eating breakfast on the deck and watching the sun rise over the hills. I love that every now and then my neighbors and I spend a day going in and out of each other's houses barefoot with drinks in our hands and small children running around. I love how many of the stars I can see at night.

This isn't a gloat yet. It won't be real for a while. But it's very much a looking forward to. It scares me to death. But I do the things that scare me. So yeah. I'm happy.

Be More Social!

It hit me today that the word "social" is not often used in a positive context.

Seems like it's either used to yell at you for being quiet... "Come be social!"

Or to yell at you for having more to do than the speaker does... "Well, aren't you just the social butterfly." "You and your social calendar."

So maybe that's why I've taken to disliking the term "social media".

I'll tell you one thing, it's a bitch on my tagging, because "new media" stopped being "new" and got all declasse, and now "social media" is ticking me off. "Emerging media" sounds better to me, but pretentious because it's not very widespread. And "SoMe" is still a little eye-roll-worthy.

But seriously. Social media? Think about that. Isn't it kind of the most redundant phrase in the world? Media is communication. Communication is between people. Of course it's social.

Anyway, I wish I could get comfy with a term for what all this is called.

As Tracy and I were leaving work today, she said she'd read that that if she wasn't on Twitter, she should get out of PR. So I went home all riled up about Jeremy Pepper discounting her career because she hasn't joined what is still, whatever we Twitterers want to think, a niche social network. (Maybe there are a million people on Twitter, maybe even 12 million, but there are over 70 million Facebook users.)

Except then I found his post, read it, (wondered why he hasn't updated in over a month,) and totally agreed with him.

Part of his post is on the J&J mommyblogger debacle I've mentioned. But overall he's talking about an issue that I think I see slightly differently. He seems to see an overall attitude toward social media by PR people that includes management apathy, staff incredulity, underfunding, underresourcing, and deliberate attempts to undermine social media structures.

I don't disagree that those things exist, but I think I'm more optimistic about it. Or maybe I just like the solution.

In my company, and in my industry - small agency, pharmaceutical clients - the learning curve is long. But people are learning. And the only way they're going to, is if people who have something to teach, teach. Explain why the old way doesn't work, and what the purpose of the new way is. Use baby steps and easy examples. And don't stop. If you love this stuff, it's easy. If it's fun to talk about new ways to connect with people, and better ways to make things happen, you're exactly who should be teaching.

And then maybe nobody will need to write grouchy blog posts about it.
(I still don't like that it's called "social media," though.)

What Matters to You Right Now?

Answer that, please. What's really getting to you?

Now. Please go read this story about Matt Logelin. (You can't see his blog right now - the traffic from the story probably crashed it - but you can see his photostream.)

I defy you not to have it break your heart.

It just makes your world stop. And when it creaks back into motion, all you want to do is find someone you care about and hold them as tight as you can while you tell them exactly how much you love that they are there, that minute, and how much they matter, and how little anything else does.

Maybe, if the smallest bit of good could come from something so breathtakingly unfair, maybe that's it. It's hard to even think that though.

If you pray, or think, or whatever you do - let's do some for him.

Ways I Could Have Gotten Rich, No. 137

My friend's daughter had this book lying around.

And so I've realized how badly I missed out on a book deal. Throughout high school, we went through several notebooks just like that. I even think one girl's yearbook quote was "where's the notebook?" And that's apart from the notes... the bookcovers... the locker murals....

I hope at least some of it still exists somewhere, because I'm sure they're priceless. "Priceless" in the sense of "funny", I would've thought. (I believe one of my bookcover masterpieces was briefly framed, but that was about all the acclaim it got.) But now, I see that even teenage navel-gazing has its price.

And I wrote that stuff for free. Sucker.

Updated to add: it makes me very happy to hear that the framed bookcover still exists.

C'mon Get Happy

This afternoon I was grouchy.

But then a lot of things cheered me up.

...

Wow. Am I a storyteller or what?

Anyway, I thought I'd borrow a page from Karen and list my happy things. But the thing is, when I do that, I notice that the things that cheer me up are a little weird:

• Smelling the hyacinths mixed in with the daffodil beds as I walked out the door from work.
  
• Still seeing afternoon light even though it was after seven.
• Adorable neighbors saying hello as I got home.
  
• Unfreezing the DVD player after I was afraid it had eaten the putrid Ryan Reynolds DVD out of spite.
• Learning that I am to be the recipient of the Best Bridesmaid Gift Ever, the Ryan Reynolds Box Set, a threat/promise on which Maria cannot renege even if it has to be made with a shoebox and Scotch tape and a Sharpie.
  
• Turning on the TV to see Andy pitching (yes, of course the TV was left on YES).
  
• Realizing I don't need to make or decorate any more cookies for a little while.
• Watching Jon Stewart talk about being bitter, elitist and from western Pennsylvania.
• Making rice and beans for supper.
• Bailing on working out in favor of curling up for a geriatrically early bedtime.

Yeah, it's geeky, but it's that kind of night. You cheer up however you can in this world.

Weekly Roundup: Wanna Be on Top?

I may possibly have watched just about all of Cycle 8 of America's Next Top Model.

I can't move without popping a hip, I'm smiling with my eyes, and am seriously considering a pixie cut.

I wonder if the damage is permanent.

So no links for you this Sunday, just some chitchat. Because my brain is mush. Partly because of Tyra - seriously, though, I love her so much - but also because I'm straightup sleepy. It's been a great weekend (ending with a morning with Kerrin today and my very first bacon-egg-and-cheese bagel).

For starters, I got to see a great big bunch of friends that I never get to see enough. It was, in a word - if an overused word - "delightful". A group of the coolest, most impressive people I know, just hysterical and chill and fun.

I hate that I'm on the wrong side of the state from Manhattan, but times like this weekend remind me how much the trip is worth it.

Saturday I got up early and got an awful lot done right away. When a day starts off like that, you know it's going to be good. The weather was gorgeous - finally spring. (Even if it's gone again today and I'm freezing. Sigh.) And my father and his fiancee have begun moving his stuff out of what will be (in six weeks OH MY GOD) my condo. Which realization makes me want to shriek and jump up and down in a very not at all mature enough to be a homeowner way.

And then I went out to get the mail and didn't make it back inside for the rest of the day, because I ended up laughing myself silly on the lawn with my neighbors. Delicious rum concoctions were involved. And two enthusiastic entrepreneurs made at ten dollars washing cars while making disapproving comments about how goofy the adults were being.

(So my car is clean, too. Mostly. They aren't tall enough yet to get the roof, but what do you want for $2?)

It's exciting to realize that the house might really be going to belong to me, and to be reminded how nice my little street is. I complain that it's far away from a lot of the things and people I love, and that's true, but there is a lot that's great too. I can't wait to start making it my own.

I'm terrified that I've written that whole paragraph, because I'm scared of jinxing something. Also, I'm afraid that I'm being horrifically girly in my nesting and gushing. So I'll stop. Tired and happy and just - looking forward to things.