Delightful Content

This week, Joshua Brewer on the excellent 52 Weeks of UX wrote about Design for Delight. Brewer discusses these elements of delight as not just nice-to-haves, but as elements that can provide real value. Users may smile at some quirky feature, but when it works well, they also notice the extra bit effort that went into building a pleasant experience.

That means something–especially on sites like those Brewer found, where most are showcasing creativity (be sure to check out his examples).

Sites with a quirky, creative message (naturally) lend themselves to quirky, creative elements. It’s sometimes hard to see where elements like these could fit on sites where creative expression isn’t one of the goals–like government sites.

On the one hand, of course we want to delight our users. On the other, we wonder if, in attempting to delight, we instead could be alienating

But what makes elements like these “delightful” is not just that they’re cool–everyone is trying to do “cool,” but not everyone is delighting. No, what makes them delightful is that the design and content are working together to enhance a user’s experience. As Brewer says,

If the customer walks away feeling like there was a little extra attention paid to them, you can guarantee they will be back and most likely will tell their friends about it as well.

Whether guiding users to the content they need to complete a task or building trust through acute attention to detail, true “delightful elements” are employed with care. They are employed to guide users toward their purpose.

As content strategists, one of our jobs is to ensure that this purpose is clearly defined and communicated to all members of the team. At various points in the process, content strategists can also help identify opportunities for delight–places where users might be especially engaged by bits of extra detail.

Knowing where these opportunities are and the goals of users in those particular moments helps the designers, the UX team, the writers, and the developers ensure that delightful content and design elements emerge.

It’s never enough just to decide to make a site delightful. It’s a clear vision of the goals and opportunities, along with strong collaboration across functions, that makes it happen. That clear vision doesn’t happen without a well-defined content strategy.

And since these elements add value and aren’t just frivolous fun, no sites should be disqualified–or exempt–from striving for delight.

Life changes in the instant. The ordinary instant.
- Joan Didion, “The Year of Magical Thinking”

It’s funny how this quote resonates with nearly everyone, because we understand these life changes happen to all of us, and yet they come as such as a surprise.

We tend to think of things like deaths, illness, or natural disasters as the things that will upset our lives, but they aren’t always bad. Maybe you had quadruplets, or struck gold in your backyard, or were picked to marry The Bachelor (hey, I’m not judging).

I had my “ordinary instant” in this past month or so that I haven’t been blogging. I never meant for this blog to become one of the many, many abandoned blogs floating around. I still don’t mean for it to happen.

But that instant changes things; your focus must shift to The Thing, and the only “normal” things that remain are those that absolutely can’t be abandoned for awhile.

A month is a long time to not update a blog. Especially when you’re just getting things started, as I was before my instant.

For some rockstar bloggers, their blog would be one of the things that couldn’t be abandoned, no matter what happened. It’s a big part of their livelihood, and an unexplained, prolonged absence could cause more grief than it’s worth.

For others, like me, an absence isn’t such a big deal. Folks who have stopped by this blog don’t know me or my writing well enough yet to expect regular content, or to miss it when it’s not there.

But now that things are cooling off and I’m starting to return to life as usual, in my new normal, I’ve had a little time to think again about my blog.

And I wonder: what is the best way to handle a blogging absence, after that “ordinary instant” shakes up your life?

I don’t think there’s one right answer, and there are a variety of opinions out there.

One common recommendation I see is to always have extra blog posts ready, entries that you can schedule to go live in your absence. Your audience doesn’t know the difference–except when they comment and you aren’t there to converse with them.

Whether this is right for you depends on your purpose in blogging. I’d prefer not to post and then disappear. I want to be able to respond to comments, answer questions, and continue thinking about whatever topic I’ve covered in the entry.

Some blogs have multiple contributors or guest bloggers who can keep the trains running without you for a time. This obviously wasn’t an option for me, since my blog is brand new and I’m the only writer, but it can be a good approach. While your readers will eventually miss you, this still gives them new content, and the writer of each entry can respond to comments.

I’ve also seen bloggers make a short post notifying readers of an absence. This approach actually works quite well for me, as a reader. I tend to skim those entries, which don’t have to be specific (I don’t need to know you’ve had a life-changing event if you don’t want to tell me), and I’m happy to accept that I won’t see entries from that blogger for awhile.

Or, of course, there’s the approach I took: simply stop writing until you can again think about your blog. This can be fine, if you tend to be inconsistent with your blogging schedule anyway, but it can be disconcerting if you have a lot of readers who expect regular content and interaction with you.

So I’m curious what any readers still out there think about this. How do you plan to handle your blog when your next big “ordinary instant” takes you by surprise?

I love the show “Glee.” I usually try to keep my must-see shows down to a select few, but “Glee” sucked me in.

If you haven’t seen the show on Fox, “Glee” follows a high school teacher and the kids that make up his glee club. Each episode has one or more musical numbers, usually covers of popular songs (old and new). The characters are quirky and flawed, and the humor is dry and biting.

Because the show has drawn such a following and seems to break the mold of formulaic successful television shows, I think there are lessons to be learned that might apply to our work on the web.

Take something old and make it new. And better.

I love me some Journey (much to the chagrin of my husband). Their cheesy anthems are just so catchy and irresistible. And I’m not the only one who feels this way.

“Glee” could not have started off with a better cover than Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’.” A song everyone knows and most love (whether they admit it or not).

The song is so catchy that an updated version just has a way of sticking in your head. Even if you don’t watch the show, you have likely heard the “Glee” version.

Personally, it was a big reason I watched the first episode.

The folks behind “Glee” had big ideas for an entirely new type of show. A concept that ran the risk of being campy and appealing to a niche audience of current former glee-club members found a wider audience with a catchy, widely appealing pop song.

Lesson: Take risks and be daring, but don’t abandon the old classics that people already know and love.

If your site offers some particular product or feature that is already wildly successful, make it a part of any new plans. Your users will be relieved to see that their old favorite is still there, and they may be more open to the new things you have to offer.

Tell it straight.

“Glee” deals with some difficult topics: teen pregnancy, homosexuality, disabilities, and race, to name a few. While it would be easy for the show to turn into an after-school special or a “very special episode” each week, “Glee” manages to touch on these topics with humor, straight talk, and a surprising sensitivity.

While no one would accuse Sue Sylvester (Jane Lynch, you are amazing) of being politically correct, that extreme lack of PC-ness is the reason people love her. Her barbs are always cringeworthy, but they also remind you that there’s a balance between her harsh verbal vomit and prose so watered down with euphemisms that it’s lost all meaning.

Lesson: As Amber Simmons said, “…what’s wrong with saying Marvin is a poor, fat cop from the ghetto?” (Thanks, Kristina Halvorson, for pointing out Simmons’ great article in your book.)

You can write about Marvin in a respectful way without making your readers’ eyes glaze over.

Show your passion.

Lea Michele, who plays Rachel, is an amazing singer. On the show, her character is widely panned as being annoying and intense. And she certainly is.

But when she starts to sing, her love of music and performing shines and that annoying intensity suddenly has found its perfect outlet. She attacks every song she sings with gusto and you feel every word and emotion right along with her.

Lesson: If you believe in your content–or in what you’re selling, or discussing, or whatever–pour your energy into conveying that passion to users through your site.

Obviously, a hard sell isn’t always the best strategy, but true passion shows and users appreciate it.

Make your plan. Try it. If it doesn’t work, change it.

The pregnancy sham involving Terri and Quinn was a widely reviled storyline, the one dark spot on a season of excellent episodes (does anyone really believe a husband wouldn’t realize his wife was wearing a fake belly?)

Viewers didn’t like it, and they didn’t like Terri. The inane, contrived deception was finally revealed at the end of the season–and fairly quickly, I might add.

The storyline could have been drawn out over at least another season, but the audience’s impatience won out.

Lesson: If you really believe something might work, give it a shot, but keep listening to your users and take their feedback to heart.

However, give it a chance before pulling the rug after a bit of negative feedback. If users start to like what you’ve, the feedback will start to change.

If they still hate it after your best efforts, that is the time to seriously consider backtracking.

Let people have fun with your content.

“Glee” won’t be back with new episodes until April, but the “Glee”-inspired YouTube videos have kept die-hard fans entertained—and interested—while they’re waiting.

From the mashups to the flashmobs to the covers (with all parts often sung—to the astonishment of viewers—by a single male) to the endearing song by Mark Salling (who plays Puck) about how much he loves being on “Glee,” the openness keeps the fun going and throws out the challenge for further innovation.

Personally, I’m looking forward to one of these YouTube stars making an appearance on the show.

Lesson: If users have passion around what you’re doing, be open and encourage them to apply their own creativity to something you started. The creative, amusing things they come up with will likely astound you.

Obviously, I’m a fan of the show, but I do think it’s useful to learn from outside the web world once in awhile. And while I’m not making YouTube videos (you’re welcome), I am giving some KILLER car concerts these days. A show that inspires that kind of enjoyment outside of regular viewing time has to provide some lessons.

Are there any that I missed?

In thinking about what I want this blog to be, I’ve been considering the work of the many, many bloggers out there who discuss websites in general, and content strategy, design, and user experience in particular.

While there are certainly exceptions, one common theme I’ve noticed is that bloggers seem to enjoy taking others to task for deficiencies on their sites.

In other words, people really like writing about sites that suck. Web Pages that Suck is the most obvious and enduring example.

Are these blogs fun to read? Sure. The examples from the 90s are especially cringe-worthy, and really, not all that harmful. We all sucked back then.

But are they helpful?

Well. Sure. There are things we can learn by looking at bad websites, very specific mistakes on these sites that we can note and put into our long, long list of “bad practices.”

These are good things to know. “Don’t do this” is a good lesson to learn.

But the abundance of these sites and articles has begun to exhaust me. They take on the same “you suck, I don’t” tone as the awful comment sections on news sites, where the participants seem to accept that, in order to write something on the web, they must take on an insulting, snarky tone.

I’m just not that cynical. Or maybe I am. But I don’t want to be.

Moreover, I realize that behind every website (sucky or not) are people. Most of those people have good intentions and want their sites to work well.

Perhaps I’m more sensitive than most to this free-for-all insult party that the web has become. After all, I work on government websites. I frequently field comments from angry users who insult, name call, and call for the jobs of the people who do their best to create useful sites for the taxpayers who use—and fund—them.

Are our sites perfect? Certainly not. Far from it. Budgets, priorities, political pressures, workloads, and schedules often prevent us from doing things exactly how we would in an ideal world.

I can only assume that these roadblocks to perfection are prevalent in many, many other organizations—especially those whose websites “suck.”

Don’t get me wrong. Sometimes organizations (and the people behind their sites) deserve to be called out for their harmful decisions, their self-serving approach to their sites, or their outright disregard for users.

But there are plenty of bloggers doing that already. The people—yes, people, not just organizations— behind those sites don’t need one more blogger telling them they suck. Which is why I’ve chosen to focus on delight.

Awhile back, I attended a day-long session with Jared Spool, and one thing that stuck with me was his mention of site features that delight users.

I’m not talking about visitors jumping for joy when they use our sites. I’m talking about those elements that make it easy for users. Those little chunks of content that are exactly what users need, when they need them. Those design decisions and those bits of “scent” (thanks again, Jared Spool) that take users exactly where they need to go, so they can complete their task and move on.

It’s those things that keep users coming back because they have a vague recollection of it being easy the last time, rather than a glaringly bad memory of what an awful experience it was.

Those elements of delight are, to me, more rare and instructive than the myriad websites that suck.

It’s easy to suck. It’s tough to delight. Instead of focusing on how not to suck, I prefer to focus on how to delight.

I suppose every blog needs an awkward first post, and this is mine. I’m a bit late to the blogging party, but I figured it was time to add my voice.

“Join the conversation,” as the new cliche goes.

And what a conversation it is. Revelatory, really. For those of us who have been working as content strategists for years but have struggled to describe exactly what it is we do (project manager? yeah… writer? that too… editor? uh huh… brand manager? sort of… information architect? sometimes…), seeing the term “content strategy” was like the proverbial lightbulb (CFL, of course) turning on.

Content strategy?

“Oh. YEAH! Duh.”

It seems so obvious, now. So simple. If only.

For all of this revelation and relief among practitioners, a new term–and role–to add to the already confusing mix of new-ish web-related professions seems to have sparked even more confusion and sometimes, resistance, than expected.

Once upon a time, websites were easy. All you needed was someone with a little HTML savvy to put up your brochure, and voila! Everything your users needed was right at their fingertips.

It didn’t last long.

Now there are pages upon pages of content, plus videos, and images, and databases, and content management systems, and metadata, and social media, and hierarchies and taxonomies and governance and maintenance and relationships and conversations and on and on…

Your HTML guy doesn’t want to think about all that. He wants to write code. And he’s probably doing a heck of a lot more than just HTML these days, so he’s got his own endless list of items to learn and consider.

Same goes for your writer. And editor. And project manager. Do they care? Of course. Many of these issues probably cross their minds quite often. But how much time do they have to focus on them, given the other demands on their time?

Here comes the content strategist, to save the day!

And here come the questions, the skepticism, the need for the practitioners to step back and define and legitimize themselves and their role. Much the way (so I’ve heard) information architects had to, back in the day.

I’ve watched these conversations (and rarely piped up, admittedly) with interest, and much of the discussion focuses on differentiating the roles and responsibilities of the web team.

I must confess, sometimes the nuances of these conversations are lost on me. For all my lauding of the content strategy role, it is not all I do.

In my job, I am the project manager. Also the content strategist. Oftentimes the writer. Sometimes the editor. Many times the usability tester. The lines of these responsibilities blur because they all belong to me.

“Jack of all trades, master of none,” to add one more cliche to this entry.

So, while my love of content and interest in the emerging field of content strategy is what drives me to start this blog, it may not be the only thing that keeps me here.

Given my blurry lines, I may not prove very useful in helping to define the practice. For now, I’ll leave that to folks like Kristina Halvorson, Jeffrey MacIntyre, Richard Sheffield, and many others who have created excellent resources and so kindly held their conversations in public.

For now, I’ll just be one of many content strategists (among other things) down in the weeds, delving into the details, sharing my thoughts and experiences, asking questions, and hopefully making a small contribution to the big ideas being tossed around by those brilliant people mentioned above.