I’ve been spending my free time on a new creative project, a book for kids and a companion web site. While I’m really excited about the project, I’m almost as geeked as this great video creation tool from Animoto. It’s become an essential part of my marketing plan.

Animoto provides animated templates with a variety of themes. You choose a theme, add your images, text, and music. Presto chango, you’ve got a really cool animated video.

While Animoto is amazingly simple to use there are some constraints.

1. The free version limits you to a 30-second video. That’s about 6 to 8 frames total (images + text). If you can write Twitter style you can make it work. But it does take some thought. For about $5.00 a month you can subscribe to the service and make videos of any length.

2. The free music offered by Animoto is limited and you’re better off purchasing royalty-free music from some place like Shockwave Sound as I did. Also, buy several timed versions of the music you select: stingers (short transitions), a 30-second, a 60-second, and a 90-second.  The music is REALLY important to the success of the video, so don’t skimp.

3. Animoto really shines as a creative tool for SHORT videos. Currently, there is no preview window so when you click the “produce botton” you must wait to see if your video needs more editing. It almost always does. I’ve found 1:30 to be best for my purposes.

I want to give a shout out to Garin Kilpatrick, one of the smartest social network marketers (and nicest guys) I’ve ever met online. I learned about Animoto from Garin. His blog posts are chock full of great tips and tools. He’s definitely follow-worthy!

And now, here’s a sample of what can be created using Animoto. This is a book trailer for Henrietta Sharp and the Magic Lunch Box, my forthcoming eBook for kids 10-12 and their significant adults.

Give Animoto a try. It’s a great way to create fresh content and market your online brand. Let me know what you think.

AND if you can’t deal with learning a new application, let me know. I’d love to work with you.

For once in my life, I have just as many answers as questions.  So, in response to your comments, here we go.

Q: May I use information from the blog on my web site, in a research paper, or post it as a PDF?

A.: Absolutely yes. The whole purpose of the blog is to share it with readers. All I ask is that you give source attribution and a link back to the web site.

Q: Do you have a Facebook page?

A: Yes. We do now. There’s also a Facebook fan box on the blog. If you like what you read, I hope you’ll give us a big Facebook “like” as well.

Q: Are you on Twitter?

A: Yes. You can find us on Twitter @JuicyIdeasBlog. We haven’t had time to do much with it yet, but now you can follow and Tweet about the blog.

Q: Do you do a lot of research in order to write the blog?

A: Absolutely not. The blog framework is creativity in life and business. The content is based on personal experience, observation, and things that have stimulated my imagination, usually the latest book that I’m reading.

Q: Do you write guest blogs?

A: I haven’t written a guest blog, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t, especially if the subject matter was within my domain.

Q: Are you a genius?

A: I can’t believe that several people have asked this. It’s very flattering, but no, I am absolutely NOT a genius, or anything close. I’m just a person who works at the craft of writing when not working with clients.

Q: Why don’t you post more often?

A: I’ve been working on a creative project that has demanded a lot of time. In fact, we’ll introduce it on the blog very soon because I would really appreciate your feedback. Also, I write somewhat lengthy original posts and it just takes awhile for them to find their way on to the page.

Q: Will you review my web site?

A: I’m flattered that you ask, but that’s the kind of work that we do for clients and there just isn’t enough time to do it for fun.

Q: What Word Press template do you use?

Our very talented art director Susan Bachman created the blog template. Our developers took the custom design and did the Word Press set-up.

Q:  How do you manage spam?

A:  We just installed a Word Press plug-in called Akismet and it really kills the spam. There is a free version, but I opted to pay $5.00 a month for the premium service.  If you’ve got spam issues, go right now and get Akismet.  It rocks.

Q: Will you trade links with my web site?

A:  Again, I appreciate that you ask, but the answer is no.  We don’t have time to review sites to see if they’re compatible with our content.

Q:  Do you know that your site has display issues in Opera, Chrome, and Mozilla for Mac?

A:  Yes.  We know.  And we’ve updated our version of Word Press and resolved those issues.  At least, I hope we have.  Let me know if still have a problem.  We’ll do our best, but we don’t have the resources to support every version of every browser that’s out there.

Q:  Why don’t you use video in your blog?

A:  When we started the blog we were more interested in creating strong written content. If we introduce video to the blog it will be because it brings added value to our readers.   I’m just not sure that this blog, unlike another that we’re doing, would benefit from video. But, we’re thinking about it.

Okay.  That’s everything you wanted to know about the Conversations with Juice blog and then some.

Again, thank you for reading (maybe I should do a video thank you…hmm).  See you again real soon.

My friend has crossed the line. She has gone beyond the border that distinguishes a reasonable cat person (wait, is there such a thing?) to become a person who dresses her you know who in clothes.

While the cat tolerates the apparel with ambivalent good will, let’s face facts. They have fur – way better than fabric. But then, the dressing of cats has nothing to do with felines, and everything to do with being human.

Macy the cat, in her turtleneck sweater.

In Search of Meaning

We seek meaningful connections even when that which we seek is lost in inter-species communication. Cats in clothes are cute, but our desire to dress them in the garb of humanity underlies our need for reciprocal, recognizable relationships.

Web Copy for Spiders

Continuing the trend of cats in clothes, we now write web content for spiders. I’m talking about the animated critters that crawl the Internet, consuming content and coughing it back up at data farms in undisclosed locations.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for search engine optimization. I want the web sites we create for clients to be found. It’s just that we now write the way people search. Consequently we have people who read like spiders. They scan; look at headlines, sub-heads and bullet points.

Content that Connects with People

If, as Jakob Nielson says, 79% of people scan web pages, what is it that would prompt them to occasionally read? I have a 3-point theory based on observation and absolutely not one speck of scientific research. Nonetheless, I believe that people who read like spiders are more inclined to read like humans of we do these three things.

Offer Something of Value.

That can be useful information (salt really does get out wine stains); insight on the complicated business of being a person (see Mark Epstein’s book Going on Being); or an original and thoughtful point of view (see Nathan Myhrvold -whether you agree with him or not he makes your brain cells grow).

Write with a Human Voice.

People see words on the page. They also hear the words in their head. Some information is dense but unless it’s a government form it doesn’t have to be dull. (Maybe there’s a law that mandates government documents must be obscure.) Anyway, Bill Bryson, author of A Short History of Nearly Everything, shows that a personal voice can make you make you enjoy reading about complicated stuff. From lichen to quantum mechanics, his writing sings. It has rhythm and cadence. It’s funny, lively, irreverent and always personable. He transcends information and serves up something we all need more of – understanding.

Be Like a Cat.

Okay, I mean be a person who copies cats in this one thing. Authenticity. Cats are relentlessly themselves and they communicate their cat-ness with incredible consistency. What if your intention, your messaging, your self-ness as person or product were undiluted, without conflict or distraction. Imagine the power you would project, the allure you would have, the market share you could win.

If we’re human enough to dress cats in clothes, surely we can bring the same humanity to the content we create for people. Then maybe all of us would read a little bit less like spiders.

The burnt orange devil that dissed my neocortex. Shoes are just as subversive as handbags when it comes to reasoned thinking.

The new part of my brain let me down again. It’s supposed to act like my personal regulatory commission, canceling out my ‘Ooh, pretty’ impulse with reasoned judgment; the kind of thinking that forbids the frivolous use of my credit card.

But the newest overlay of neurons and synapses lost out when a burnt orange handbag came my way. How, I ask myself, could this happen? The answer sounds a bit Zen-like, for there was no how. There was only an out-of-consciousness decision followed by a bunch of reasons that gave my brand new neocortex (yeah, that’s literally saying new-new) the credit for a choice it didn’t really make. If the me that deliberates and the me that decides in an instant co-exist in my fragmented self, in what ways do they cooperate?

Author Jonah Lehrer covers that topic with authority in his recent book How We Decide.  He makes the point that rational thought is not our only, nor even our strongest intelligence. We have the capacity to process countless impressions with such rapidity that the new, reasoning part of our brain lags behind. So in my case the result is a mixed blessing – pride of purchase and the shadow of shopper’s remorse.

But what is it that seals the deal on an impulse purchase, even when it costs way more than a candy bar at the check out counter?

Convenience: Okay. The handbag was right there in my friend’s house, detritus from her online shopping spree. It was about to be shipped back to wherever returned handbags go. It’s the difference between someone showing you a TV spot to adopt-a-homeless-dog and actually thrusting a warm, wriggling puppy into your hands.

Features: Oh, it was a perfect storm of decorative hardware, cell phone pockets, separate compartments and a heady mix of magnetic and zippered closures. If you’ve ever gone through airport security, you know the necessity of a bag that zips shut. It wasn’t too big, nor too small. To quote Goldilocks, “it was just right.” And it was burnt orange. Enough said.

Iconic: It’s not like my handbag is one of those designer models. There wasn’t a waiting list like the much lusted after Hermes Birkin bag, and the price tag didn’t have four or five figures.

It’s just that the sum of all its parts is emblematic of, well, me. The choice of this particular handbag says something both to and for me. It’s an ineffable mix of color and character that I want to express in ways that words cannot.

What then, have I learned? Simply this. If I were trying to sell a product, be persuasive, or pitch an idea, I’d make sure that the neocortex isn’t the only thing I’m talking to.  Rational thinking is thoughtful.  Emotional thinking is powerful.  Communication that addresses the whole person is insanely effective.

The answer is just a super-hero away.  Batman, Spiderman and the JLA (Justice League of America) have solved the get-to-the-point problem.  It’s called a comic book (or graphic novel for folks who call movies films.)  This genre knows how to pare down the descriptions, pump-up the action and pull the reader right into a page where every panel advances the story.

If you need to put some personality into your social profile, pitch a new idea, or just have some fun, start by thinking inside the box one panel at a time.  To get you going, here’s my story (one of ‘em, anyway) with a few tips for creating your very own six-panel adventure.

Write what you know. And what I know right now is pain. The oh, ouch, owee-kazowee hurty-feeling of rollerblading gone bad. I was a victim of the whee-factor, skating way too fast. That’s when gravity stopped being my friend. And when skin encounters asphalt, you can quote me on this, asphalt always wins.

Then I started thinking (guess the fall shook loose some extra neurons) that rollerblading is a lot like building a business. I know it’s an illusive analogy, but just like the Federation folks on Star Trek, I’m on a mission to seek out and discover strange new connections between unlikely events. So before the giddy relief of surviving small time trauma fades, here are my injury induced insights on the ups and downs of business and rollerblading.

Risk is a sure thing. “D’oh!” That’s why you wear protective gear, unless like me you have sweaty knees and elbows and eschew the pads. Of course that’s where I got the boo-boos. (Note to safety engineers: I do wear a helmet and wrist guards. And yes, I’m smart enough to know when I’ve been stupid.)

Being in business is risky too. But some degree of risk is far less dangerous than complete risk avoidance. Decisions have to be made based on the information you have; not deferred until you have ALL of the information. In my observation, indecision and 11^th-hour enactment syndrome are far more costly than a thoughtful acknowledgement that risk is present but that the opportunity is worth it.

Mid-course correction. Henry Pollack, Professor Emeritus in the Department of Geological Sciences at the University of Michigan, served up mid-course correction when I interviewed him for our podcast.  (Sorry, the interview is still in post-production.)  Mid-course correction is such a solid and scientific way of saying if something doesn’t work out change things up. Of course change can give rise to uncomfortable feelings too. But which would you rather be, stuck in something that’s not working or simply make an adjustment and carry on?

To mash-up and misquote Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius, “Nothing last forever, neither good times nor bad.” In other words, now is not forever. If something in life or business isn’t working out it doesn’t have to keep on keeping on. I mean, eventually my rollerblading boo-boos will scab over and heal. I just have to deal with it for now. And you can deal with the risk of poor results by making a mid-correction correction. It’s the smart thing to do and it makes you sound smart too.

Dynamic balance, obviously I didn’t have it. But life, business and certainly rollerblading all demand it. It’s all those tiny little adjustments,; flexed knees, head over body and the absence of chasm-like cracks in the pavement that keep you on your feet. Dynamic balance in wingtips and pumps requires a nimble accommodation of a changing environment too: requests and questions, diplomacy and candor, clear-heading thinking and crazy ideas.

Here’s the deal.  Failing is painful. So is falling down. But as long as we’re able, we get up, we get smarter and we grab hold of the chance to continue with both hands.  It also helps to have at least one foot on the ground.

I do words. She does pictures. That’s the deal. Now my friend and work partner has gone rogue and started writing her own material. Here’s the part that makes me bitter. She thought she was writing a funny little story to introduce a golf tournament. But what she did (and I’m not telling her) was create a back-story, a loopy convergence of fact and fiction that enriches the context of the event and actually entices more people to participate.

Personable not Personal

We constantly create short hand narratives of the events in our lives. From personal profile pages on Facebook to corporate web sites, we’re sharing lots of information. But what’s often absent is a context, a sense of the person without it getting all too personal. A story is a great way to bridge the gap between the unfettered ickyness of too much info and the projection of a personable presence. The irony of the online networks that bind us together is that the realtime unfolding of our lives is less compelling than the constructed experiences we share. A story is profoundly human precisely because the doings and dilemmas of the individual have universal appeal. It is interesting that we (people, organizations, businesses) become more authentic versions of ourselves, not because of the facts we share, but because of the stories we tell.

Susan’s Secrets to a Better Back-Story

Okay. Keep this quiet because Susan doesn’t even know she knows this. But you can use her model to craft a better back-story for anything you care about.

1. Keep it short. Ask Mark Twain how hard this is. Ernest Hemingway seemed to have the knack, but getting to simple did take its toll. 250 little (or even big) words.

1. Keep it true. That means true to you and your experience. Authentic works. Sure you can change things up as long as you remain true to the spirit of events. Check out Two Fisted Science by Jim Ottaviani for an entertaining and illuminating treatment of a real event. Or, just add a big old disclaimer saying that ‘the facts have been changed to make me more interesting’.

1. Mix in some mythic. Make your back-story engaging with a mash-up of the mundane and the mythic. Origin, quest, transformation and redemption. It worked for the Bible and Danielle Steele too.

And now, the best back-story ever in recent history.

Tater, the crappy Bassett statue

The Princess and the Pup, or How the TATER CUP was Born.

By Susan Bachman

Once upon a time, there was a tiny kitty named Sarah. The Princess loved her because she was soft and fuzzy, and well, all kitteny.

Excitedly, the Princess ran to show the mean Ogre the soft and fuzzy kitty.

“Grrrr” said the Ogre “We don’t need no stinkin’ kitty.”

The kind Knight said “I don’t like the name Sarah, and perhaps neither does the Ogre.”

So the Princess named the kitty Tater.

“Can we keep Tater, mean Ogre, I mean darling Husband?”

Flash forward to almost present times…

The Princess wandered about, searching for a Tater to call her own.

The King, taking pity on the Princess said “Here you can have this crappy Bassett statue and call it Tater.”

And Tater, the crappy Bassett statue was born.

The Princess took it home. But something was amiss. Tater wasn’t soft. Tater wasn’t fuzzy. And Tater definitely wasn’t kitteny.

One evening, the Princess and the Ogre were sitting on the balcony of their castle and wondering what they should do with Tater.

“Grrrr” said the Ogre, “We don’t need no crappy Bassett Statue.”

“I KNOW,” screeched the Princess, “we must have a joust, a tournament. We shall tie iron to sticks and hit rocks about. We will invite only the fiercest competitors, and the tournament will be long and arduous, and last many months.”

“And at the end, only one team shall stand victorious. And they shall be the winners of the illustrious TATER CUP – and be presented with Tater, the crappy Bassett statue!”

The End.

Eggs as art.

Easter has come and gone. But a well-decorated egg lasts forever, at least in pixilated form. So what’s the dipping, the designing and the unpredictable process of creating colorful eggs have to do with choosing a marketing firm? More than you might think.

Pricing: There’s no denying that cost is a consideration when choosing a partner to promote your business. Just be aware that you will get egg-zactly what you pay for. Store-bought eggs are uniform in color, they’re mass-produced in un-chick-friendly environments, and they’re devoid of the very characteristics that makes them genuinely eggy: an orange sun yolk, a resilient white, and a yummy, buttery taste. If you’re the real deal and you want others to know it, you might want to invest just a little bit more to work with people who know how to market (and even create) colorful characters.

I Changed It So It’s Mine: Okay, I borrowed this from Lawrence Clore, an ardent foodie who knows how to cook up a storm. His particular gift is to start with someone else’s recipe and then reinvent the formula so that the finished dish is entirely his own. He’s married to my work partner so we often joke that he should write a cookbook with the title I Changed It So It’s Mine. But the ability to change things up is what the right agency can do for you. This goes beyond business book stuff like ‘your unique selling proposition’. What’s uniquely human about what you do, make, or sell? Why would someone tell a friend about what you offer? You see, anybody can make egg salad. But only Larry Clore can make HIS egg salad – which, by the ways is delish. And only you can provide the thing that is uniquely yours – even if you start with eggs like everyone else.

The Invaluable Immeasurable: Everybody’s talking about metrics. How do we track page views, click-throughs, time spent, impressions, word of mouth and more? How do we validate results? I’m all for the thoughtful consideration and assessment of marketing activities. But I do worry that we are so obsessed with the means of measurement that we forget some things of genuine value are immeasurable. Yes, we can break people into parts, analyze their online behavior and adjust campaigns accordingly. But the risk is reactive marketing, like leading by a poll. I’d rather help people discover something they didn’t know they wanted, couldn’t have imagined they needed, and wouldn’t have said they would purchase. Measurement can inform your decisions, but it cannot remove risk. If you want someone to take your pulse, go with a metrics-driven group. If you want someone to breathe new life into your business, take a look at the invaluable factor of creative thinking.

You can’t give people egg-zactly what they want because they often don’t know what that is. Instead, why not delight people? Be a good (and colorful) egg. Be resourceful and serve up your brand of egg salad. And when you choose an agency, see if they measure up in all the imprecise ways that will make them egg-zactly right for you.

Bra shopping in the big city! The left image is actually dress made of pink crayons. Cool, huh?

Our April trip to the Nashville PRSA Awards show was, what, all work and no play? I don’t think so. Inspiration comes in surprising places.  We were intrigued by the lobby art at our decidedly quirky hotel and that got us thinking (yeah, we do that sometimes) about the power of everyday stuff when it’s used in unexpected ways.

Who else is thinking “70′s porno flick”?  Why yes, that is red faux pony skin that adorned the walls of our hotel’s elevator.  Getting up to our floor was a memorable experience.  We weren’t quite sure if it was smarmy (okay, it was really smarmy) but it was completely true to itself.  Honest smarmy, you know?

And crayons.  Every kid has crayons.  But hardly anybody makes a pink crayon dress.  It stands out and sticks in your mind precisely because it is unexpected.  Kind of like the punch line to a joke. Your mind is going along a certain path and then, bam, you end up someplace you didn’t plan to be.

Madonna has already done underwear as outer wear but it’s not everyday you see a bra as a light fixture.  Illuminating – in every way.

Our trip to the big city reminded us that the potential for creativity is all around us.  It’s in the stuff of every day.  Maybe faux red pony fur is just what you need to stand out.  We’re sticking with crayons because underwear belongs in a drawer when it’s not on the job.

Cereal Marketing

What could be easier than starting the day with a bowl of cereal? It’s simple, right? Well, not exactly, especially if you’re me. Think of Rachel Ray and her trademark grabbing of an overloaded armful of ingredients. That’s me in the morning with my four boxes of cereal; mixing and measuring like an alchemist seeking to transform base elements into a grainy kind of gold.

It’s not important WHY I do this (quirky accounts for most of it). So the relevant question is really this. What does cereal-making have to do with social marketing?

Repeatable not Repetitious

I love my breakfast mix. That’s how I start most every day. I repeat the process but it never seems repetitious. That’s because I have the freedom to add more raw oats one day, pull back on the bite-size goodness, and regulate the amount of crunchy stuff I choose to chow down on. I’m taking a product and creating my own platform, uh, breakfast. The act of making it mine is a comfortable routine but it’s not boringly repetitious. It’s me being me. It’s mine. I own it.

Personalized Mix

I’m pretty sure that cereal makers didn’t have me in mind (or anyone else for that matter) when it comes to my personalized mix of multiple brands. What’s cool is that the product comes in discrete packages that can be consumed any way you like: by the handful, in a bowl, with lite vanilla soymilk (anyway, you get it and yeah, as my husband reminds me, soy beans produce soy liquid – not milk as he defines it).

But it’s the box, man. The box lends itself to a mash up of massive proportion. It’s made in a factory. It’s churned out on a massive scale and yet I have the ability to make it personal. Here’s the point. Companies that produce a product that acts like a platform are the companies who get ahead. If you can help people do what they do only make it easier, you win.

Your Brand is What I Say It Is

Don’t panic if people use your brand and make it their own. This is opportunity knocking if you know the rule. And the rule is: you’re not the only one who gets to tell people what your brand is. People can now tell you what your brand is to them. That’s the prize that shows up in the box between your ears if you’re ready to listen.