The past twelve to eighteen months marked a watershed event for the fledgling practice known as content strategy. Halvorson threw a party, even though Sheffield had sent invitations beforehand. Lots of blogs, like this one and this one, all chimed in on content strategy and the people who make content strategy happen: that new species known as content strategists.

The past twelve to eighteen months also marked a moment for me, your humble content strategist, in that I realized a profound truth: the business world doesn’t deserve content strategy.

Don’t get me wrong. I like content strategy. I think it makes sense. I think most of the people who’ve written about it get it (most, but not all). At the end of the day, however, the world doesn’t deserve content strategy simply because the business world doesn’t care to understand or accept content strategy.

After all the presentations, elevator speeches, handouts, copy decks, page tables, editorial guidelines and assorted content strategy-centric documents, there is still a roaring vacuum in the business world. Sure, some businesses get it and employ it with a fair dinkum of success. But most businesses, especially those that have limped along on the web for the past fifteen years — they just don’t get it. Worse, they don’t want to get it.

At this point, some of my colleagues would say, “Well, that’s because the content strategist has to explain it, cheerlead it and show the value of content strategy in the real world!” But if it’s a message that businesses neither want to hear or can’t implement because of the overabundance of bloated or desiccated content, woe be unto the little content strategist trying to make a difference in the world.

I know content strategy is being done successfully in other places. But for some industries that are so mired in office politics, mixed messages or a combination of the two, content strategy is about as possible as Santa Claus finding Bigfoot riding the Loch Ness Monster on the outskirts of the Bermuda Triangle.

Bottom line: When a business doesn’t want to make friends with content strategy, it’s likely to throw rocks at it until it dies or runs away.

I spent the better part of a year researching, studying, talking, sharing, demonstrating and evangelizing content strategy, only to learn that most stakeholders didn’t get it and most participants in the creation and development of a Web site either saw it as a threat to their work, a needless complication to the current unworkable setup or that it’s really just copywriting misspelled. I spent a year dealing with this, only to wind up feeling very much like Boris Karloff in the windmill, dealing with villagers carrying pitchforks and torches.

Part of the problem is that what’s been written about content strategy up to this point, with the exception of Sheffield’s book and a few articles,  is theoretical. Highly theoretical. It’s like a cookbook crammed full of recipes that the chef thought sounded good but never took the time to actually make the recipes.

Problem is, those recipes only work in select conditions. If one of those conditions is off, even slightly, you wind up with something that’s neither helpful nor appropriate for consumption.

When it’s done right, content strategy is a thing of beauty. Unfortunately, doing content strategy right calls for the proper alignment of some major stars and celestial bodies. And that happens about as often as… major stars and celestial bodies aligning.

Last time, we talked about how reality shows owe a lot to dramatic structure, character development and many of the tools found in the writer’s toolbox. Now we come to the point where we’ve got our show mapped out and we want to sell it to a producer, an agent or a television executive.

When developing your own reality series proposal, a few things to keep in mind: Explain the premise as thoroughly as possible. Paint the picture for producers of what this show will look like, how it’ll feel and how it’s supposed to make the audience feel. Come up with a few personas, potential characters that could realistically compete on a show or fit the bill for the reality scenario. Look for character types that could bounce off each other, either negatively or positively. Create a diverse set of personas; it maximizes your chances to reach a larger audience. Give the reader of your treatment or proposal a feel for how a typical episode would play out. Who gets eliminated? Why? Who makes it to the next round? Who’s the most likely to get cut next time?

Give us an idea of the types of judges we’ll see. They’ll be the face of your show from the outset. You want either well-known people, or people who add the right blend of humor and friction. It’ll be the subplot to your series. People are always dying to see who will be the next American Idol, but they also come to see how Simon will harass Paula (well, maybe not any more).

Tell us who the judges are. If you’re thinking of a particular star, put the name out there, but be realistic. Nicole Kidman will not be the next host of your reality show, nor will Hugh Grant. Not unless their fortunes change drastically in the next few months. You can say, “A judge with Nicole Kidman star quality or Hugh Grant charisma.” Give the proposal reader an idea of the type of judge rather than an actual person — unless of course, Hugh Grant is your uncle and he owes you big time.

Viewers generally expect the following judge types:

1. Former TV star
2. Former movie star who’s career has fizzled
3. Retired sports personality
4. Elder statesman musician
5. Beloved director of light comedies
6. Former pop star
7. Pistol whip-sharp producer
8. Reality show star who’s trying to keep their 15 minutes going

The exception to this is if you create a reality show centered around a group of microbiologists looking to find the missing microbe before it gets out of the lab. Somehow, I don’t think Dan Marino is really going to offer constructive criticism. “I think the way you used that electron microscope was a little slow. Could’ve gone for it sooner.” Think of personalities who are current or have serious nostalgic factor.

Know how many episodes it’ll take for the show to reach its end. American Idol spans a few months and it gets away with it because it gives us phases: auditions, eliminations and finals. Hmm, kind of like beginning, middle and end. Of course, know when to end. Fox had a reality show a few years ago about filmmaking, On The Lot. Great premise (young filmmakers compete against each other for a chance to work with Spielberg) but it seemed endless. It was clear that the show wasn’t thought out too well, or that my next point wasn’t a strong consideration for the show’s creators:

Think about the audience. Your proposal should indicate what the audience is going to get out of the show. Why will they watch? Who will this appeal to and why? Always think about the people watching your show. What matters to them? What other shows do they watch? The clearer your picture of your general audience, the better you can focus your show in their direction.

Good luck! Drop a line in the Escape Hatch and let us know how your pitch goes!

Reality shows give the impression that they’re writer-free. After all, these shows are about real people, right? Real people don’t need writers giving them dialogue or dramatic action to perform. Right?

These shows may not be scripted like a typical sitcom or hour-long drama, but that doesn’t mean the writer’s out of work just yet.

All reality shows have structure: beginning, middle and end. Just like a story. American Idol begins with tryouts across the country. Supernanny opens with a dysfunctional family in desperate need of help. Extreme Makeover introduces a family dealing with a crisis, and a crumbling house. It’s the setup. It introduces the scenario, the characters (real people) and the promise of the premise: That what we’re seeing — a contest, a renovation or a quest — will be resolved in some satisfactory manner. The middle is the meaty part, as real people compete for some reward or react to the kindness of other humans. That’s the kind of stuff that fuels breakroom discussions at work. The end is the final round, the last competition or the big reveal.

All reality shows have characters: they’re called “people.” The single mother who always dreamed of singing in front of audiences. The overweight teenager who will die before he’s 21 if he doesn’t lose two hundred pounds. The overworked father who’s in it for his kids after losing their mother to a fatal disease.

They’re not just people like you and me, they’re people we wish we were. And the writer can help identify those people types who, when put together, make for interesting television.

Think about it: Most reality shows have a villain. It’s the contestant despised above all or disliked for their Machiavellian maneuvers. Even Extreme Makeover features a type of an antagonist. In this case, the villain is the bullet that took the life of a spouse, or the car accident that crippled a young girl.

As fans of good characters, we like to see character growth. It’s the same when we look at participants on reality shows. The single mother makes it to the finals and scores a record deal. The overweight teenager loses the 200 pounds and gains a new outlook on life. The overworked dad wins the ultimate reward at the cost of pushing himself to extreme limits. We see these people struggle. We see these people overcome. Just like Luke Skywalker, Indiana Jones, Jerry Maguire and Buzz Lightyear.

Writers can help develop reality shows by making sure the show has what most people want. It’s structure that involves high emotion and moving drama. It’s characters like us, engaged in conflict. It’s the satisfying payoff or resolution. The writer may never script dialogue or stage direction, but the writer can recommend which dramatic scenarios will offer the most impact, or suggest which candidates make for good television from a dramatic perspective.

Next time: What a proposal for a reality show should include.

Six Revisions takes a look at movie posters of original movies and their remakes. Skip the commentary, stay for the great vintage poster designs. Keep an eye out for the original poster for The Wicker Man.

Many years ago, someone had the idea to create a video game based on Home Improvement. It’s true. Look it up if you don’t believe me. I think it was SNES. It’s proof that pretty much any show can be made into a (enter superlative or expletive here) video game.

So when the iPhone offered up a game based on House, my reaction was not “What?” but rather “Man, I hope sarcoidosis is a boss.”

"In Dragon's Lair, bones crack you!" - Yakov Smirnoff

The goofy, clumsy and screams-like-a-horse Dirk the Daring has entered the Dragon’s Lair once again, this time on the iPhone, for about the cost of a fast food value meal. You’ll get the same nutritional value if you opt for the app. (via Kotaku)

Credit: Neil Edwards

When I think of writing, I think of sitting at a nice solid table in a quiet study. The room is lined with bookshelves, but the desk faces away from them. I sit facing a wall of windows. The country landscape offers a view that is both quiet and serene — a blank canvas for my thoughts.

Unfortunately, I’m sitting at a cluttered desk, surrounded by my 3-year-old’s toys. I can block that out, but what I can’t ignore is the litany of menus that adorn every side of my screen when I open any of the three word processing applications I have installed. The floating palettes offer an overwhelming number formatting choices, pagination options, layout controls and possibly every icon and menu option ever conceived by man.

Years ago, writing on a computer was far different. The programs we used had a single solid colored window, with a lone menu at the top of the screen. Each subsequent new version brought new features. Year after year the options piled up, leaving only clutter and confusion.

WriteRoom arrived on the scene a few years ago. Now a very popular Mac application, WriteRoom brought back the solid colored background and reintroduced users to a distraction-free writing environment. WriteRoom is great for getting to the point and focusing on the writing task at hand. Other applications are hidden. Your desktop is nowhere in sight. It’s just you, WriteRoom and all those words bouncing around in your head.

But I’m still at my cluttered desk, looking at a wall. Even without distractions on the computer, I want my window. More importantly I want the view. When my mind starts to wander the view captures my imagination and I can slowly guide my thoughts back to the task at hand. It’s a gentle process and one that I don’t experience when I’m staring at a solid colored screen. It’s a small detail, but it’s important enough to me that when I saw a new application called Ommwriter, I had to experience it for myself.

Ommwriter, like WriteRoom, offers a distraction-free environment. The interface, which hides out of view after a few seconds without mouse movement, is minimal, clean and polished. You can select from built-in font and size choices, two light-colored backgrounds or a snowy landscape(as seen in the screenshot). It was the landscape that caught my eye — finally, a view! Admittedly there’s just one background image right now, but I imagine that a customization option or other images, along with more font choices may be future options.

The Ommwriter team at Herraiz Soto & Co has also added another interesting feature: ambient stereo audio. There are seven audio soundtracks — three meditation inspired and four ambient tracks. You can turn on several different keyboard clicks as well, but I didn’t find them all that satisfying. Notably, there are few menu options and each has set choices. Currently, there’s no room for customizing the application, other than choosing from the options that the developers have provided.

A feature I do like is the ability to adjust the size of the text editing area. You can easily adjust the width of the page to match the size of your final composition. The width I’m currently writing in is sized to match our blog’s width. This gives me a great visual preview of what my final product will look like.

“Your goal is writing, not formatting.”

It makes sense to get rid of the all the clutter on the screen. Your goal is writing, not formatting. The final product is presented to you with the goal of readability: no menubars, formatting palettes or rows and rows of icons. Why should you have to work on a page that contains all that clutter — especially when so much of your time writing is often spent reading what you’ve just written?

If you’re a Mac user looking to give a distraction-free writing environment a try, you owe it to yourself to try WriteRoom or Ommwriter. PC users can checkout Dark Room, a free WriteRoom clone. Spend a few minutes and see what happens – you may find that you actually like writing on a computer again.

Ommwriter is currently in beta and free to download. WriteRoom for Mac is available to try for 30 days or you can purchase a license for $24.95. WriteRoom also has an iPhone version which can be purchased through the App Store.

Mark Coleran’s portfolio is an interesting look at the creative work that’s required to simulate the make-believe software that we see in television and movies. You’ve seen his work is films like The Bourne Ultimatum, Tomb Raider, Mission Impossible 3, The Island and Mr and Mrs Smith. Here’s an interesting quote on inspiration and the perception that Governments are running a majority of custom designed software vs. applications in use in the public sector.

Overall, the look we go for in these circumstances is almost a hybrid of what Mac, Windows and Linux would look like. The content itself is made to look ‘techy’ but fulfill just one primary aspect. Tell the story.

Reference points we would go to for this kind of thing is no different than the content shows. Image libraries, video feed and camera installations. Databases and communications. All stuff that exists in the real world, used by many other people, not in government. The common assumption is that they have their own unique systems, whereas they probably do not. The way their system work and interact along with odd tools might be unique but generally, not a lot different.

The irony here is that the perception they have something different from the rest of us, is probably propagated by films.

There was a time when home entertainment required a trip to the local video store. That time was called the 20th century. Nowadays, our home entertainment fix isn’t anywhere in sight of a Blockbuster Video store. We’re just a few clicks away from watching what we want, when we want.

Problem is no one’s bothered to tell the video stores about this development. Some local video stores hold on through the love and devotion of their loyal customer base, who rent forgotten video gems or hard-to-find films on a consistent basis. But most, and I’m singling Blockbuster out here since this bit of information is all about them, just don’t realize how fossilized they’ve become.

Blockbuster, O Blockbuster, that aging leviathan of video rental business, refuses to give up. Its stores may close up like oysters at red tide, but the Block just keeps on busting. Take this for instance.

Competitors offer up DVD rentals for a buck (Redbox), or free streaming video for customers (Netflix), but Blockbuster wants to get radical by starting up their own kiosks with DRM-protected videos you download to an SD card to play on… what? Well, that’s where it gets kinda vague. The pilot for this program is doling out digital media players for participants, but beyond that:

…future iterations will allow consumers to move digital content via the SD memory card to a number of portable electronic devices, such as laptops and mobile phones.

Wow, what a difference, Blockbuster. That’s the way to show Redbox, Netflix and iTunes.

Blockbuster Express Digital rolls out to test markets with an initial offering over 1,000 new releases and classic movies, increasing the catalog to a whopping 1,500 by early 2010. In your face, 21st century.

(ncr.com via consumerist)

This from the New York Times: The Mickey Mouse you’ve known all these years is about to change.

Let’s face it: Mickey has become more of a corporate symbol than a loveable cartoon character. A bit boring, a bit bland and a bit of a cipher. Because when it comes to displaying true cartoon tomfoolery at the House of Disney, everyone knows it’s Donald Duck or Goofy who carries the goods. Mickey’s too busy being the nice guy, putting on the happy face for the customers.

So when your flagship product, the symbol of your company, becomes boring or out of step with the times, you’ve got to start thinking makeover. NYT couldn’t resist throwing down the New Coke comparison card here, but then again, New Coke didn’t have a video game, dedicated television channels, a Web site and a theme park to sell their new creation:

The first glimmer of this will be the introduction next year of a new video game, Epic Mickey, in which the formerly squeaky clean character can be cantankerous and cunning, as well as heroic, as he traverses a forbidding wasteland.

And at the same time, in a parallel but separate effort, Disney has quietly embarked on an even larger project to rethink the character’s personality, from the way Mickey walks and talks to the way he appears on the Disney Channel and how children interact with him on the Web — even what his house looks like at Disney World.

Kudos to Disney for trying to handle the Mickey Mouse makeover content in a consistent way across the various channels of commerce, rather than trying to dilute how Mickey’s perceived across their products. I think this is because the goal isn’t so much to revamp Mickey as it is to win over hearts and minds of their true customer base: the kids. Lock in the next generation for the decades to come.

But the important lesson here is this: Know your customers and produce for them.

Sure, parents are the ones paying for the games, the cable and the theme park tickets. You have to sell them on new Mickey too. But this is pure Pied Piper. Get the kids loving new Mickey and so goes the parents.

Disney’s got their eye on the ball. They know their core audience and they’re meeting them where they are. Their focus isn’t pleasing fringe elements or smaller segments of their customer base.