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Want to change the world? Get a camera crew.

Last night I attended an event called The Goodpitch at Amnesty’s very cool offices in New Inn Yard – just around the corner from beautiful world.

Goodpitch is an inspired idea to bring together what they describe as ‘social-purpose film projects’ (i.e. documentaries) with charities or other organisations whose interests lie in the same area as those explored by each film.

It’s a partnership between Channel 4 BRITDOC Foundation and the Sundance Institute Documentary Film Program in collaboration with Working Films UK.

During the course of the evening, we witnessed a number of case studies including the recent documentary End Of The Line, which has been spectacularly successful in drawing people’s attention to the plight of Bluefin tuna.  The filmmakers had found support, both financial and in kind, from WWF, Greenpeace, and Waitrose among others.

It is a wonderful example of the persuasive power of film. It has spawned a campaign that urges responsible fishing. It posits the serious possibility of an ocean without fish. Why? Because if we don’t take care, we will simply have eaten them all. The film is still in the early days of its release, but it has already prompted Pret a Manger and a number of supermarkets, and restaurants (with the notable exception of Nobu) to completely revise their fish-buying policies in favour of sustainable species.  It has also attracted the attention of political leaders across the world.

The charities that went out on a limb to support the film in its early days of pre-production, at the same time resisting the temptation to try and stamp their polices all over it, deserve huge congratulations for their far-sightedness.  It looks as though it’s already paying off.

At beautiful world we need no convincing that film (and video) can be a hugely effective way to get your message across.  It’s why we consider it an essential part of our offering.  It is no longer prohibitively expensive.  It’s also something I love.  Indeed I’ve been making films and commercials for longer than I’d like to admit (Fancy a 10 minute break? Have a look at my award-winning short: The Mood.)

There is something visceral about the documentary format. It touches people on a deeply emotional level. To borrow a quote from Maya Angelou: “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

If you want to change the world, maybe you should consider making a film about it first – or rather finding someone who already has and riding on the back of that. Or if you’re interested in using video to engage with supporters – give me a call on 0207 739 6136.

 

Why it’s worth learning to write for Twitter

When I look at my Twitter-stream, I find that there are some people whose tweets regularly stand out. They offer a beguiling mix of information and wit that burst onto my screen like verbal fireworks. Beautifully formed thoughts that give the impression of having just rolled effortlessly off the keyboard.

A friend of mine, Mark Wnek, who moved out to The States to become Chief Creative Officer of Lowe NY, is a masterful Twitter writer.  He’s got a brilliant mind, a razor sharp wit and doesn’t suffer fools. His tweets sometimes read like the verbal assaults of an ego-maniac, but they’re always underpinned by self-deprecation and humanity.  Love him or hate him, his tweets are a joy to read. How the hell does he do it?

Well, for starters he’s a copywriter with 25 years experience behind him. A writer who’s taken years to learn his craft.  If you come from a background of press ad and poster writing, you can’t help but feel at home on Twitter.  (The optimum length for a poster headline is 6-8 words.)

For the would-be Mark Twain of Twitter there’s a lesson in this: follow the right people. Make sure you read at least some top quality tweets each day for inspiration.

But, like the spoken word, tweets barely even exist before being swept away by a never-ending torrent of newer posts.  Does it really matter what you write? Well, unless you’re happy talking to yourself, yes it does.

So, what makes a good tweet?

It’s a remarkably difficult question to answer.  Inevitably, it’s a combination of factors: brevity; wit; interesting information; timing; personality.

If you have  established an engaging tone of voice, then a few words from you can have a huge impact.  Stephen Fry, for example, sounds witty saying almost anything.  Easy if you’re him, but since you’re not, you’ll have to work at it.

If you’re tweeting on behalf of your charity, you need to ask yourself:

1. Are your tweets the optimum length?
2. What should the mix of messages be?
3. How often is it okay to ask for support?
4. How do you write a tweet that will get re-tweeted?
5. How do you track your tweets?

(Answers at the end.)

There are some tweeters who come totally left of field.  One of my favourites is Drsamueljohnson.  He (or she?) writes every tweet in the style of the esteemed 18th century author.  Believe it or not, it works.  The tweets are unmistakable and often hilarious.

One of the ways to become a good writer on Twitter is to become a good listener.  What I mean by this is learning to spot subtext.

There is a constant stream of people ready to denounce Twitter for being banal.  Even Ken Burnett recently, rather wickedly, described Twitter as ‘drowning in a sea of trivia’.  He was being deliberately provocative, I know, but the point I want to make back to Ken is: learn to read between the lines, you’ll get a lot more out of it.

For example, I saw a tweet the other day from someone who’s a real social media ‘pro’, which read (I’m paraphrasing):

“Goodness it’s 3.30, where has the time gone?”

Can you get more trivial than this?

Think about it again.

This is a guy who keeps up a pretty constant stream of tweets and has a huge following.  He’s been off air for hours.  His tweet is telling me that he’s back (sorry if he ignored me in the interval); he’s telling me that he’s up for a chat; he’s telling me that he’s been incredibly busy; he’s saying hello.  Trivial?  I don’t think so.

There is another reason it’s worth honing your craft when it comes to Twitter writing.  It will make you a better writer – period.  Being brief, concise, witty, attractive and informative all leads to writing that is more effective.  If you can write for Twitter, you can write for anything.

Now, back to those questions I posed earlier.  You can get the answers to all of them, plus a whole heap of really useful tips, at Writing For Twitter, the course I’m running on 5th October.  Hope to see you there.

 

Cheapskate Cliff Richard Fans

What’s wrong with the following statement?

“We are mailing half as many people this time round, so we need to halve the income target”

Now, I guess that sounds entirely reasonable, but in fact, it isn’t.

If the number of people you mailed was in a direct proportion to the number of people that responded, then it would indeed make total sense. But fundraising doesn’t work that way. Why?

Let’s say I ask this question:

“Who wants a free ticket to see Cliff Richard?”

There is a finite number of people who would be interested in this question. Some people would probably take you up because it is free; some people would take it up because it is Cliff Richard; and some people would take it up because it’s free AND it’s Cliff. We have three distinct groups here:

• Cheapskates
• Cliff Richard Fans
• Cheapskate Cliff Richard Fans

The best responders will naturally be those who admire Sir Cliff and like free tickets. That’s a reasonable expectation because this offer is, like, ‘so totally up their street’.

There is a finite number of people who are ever likely to take you up on your offer – whatever that offer is.

Response rates are funny things. I could, for example, get you a 100% response rate by only asking myself and responding. However, that would just be me and Sir Cliff, which would be pretty uncomfortable for us both.

If you had the money, you could also contact everyone in the whole country. You would certainly have asked all the right people, plus a whole lot more.  But the point remains – it’s only going to be people in those three groups who are ever likely to respond. Of course, you’d get a few randoms… people who were just passing, some lost tourists and the like, but they are going to be in the minority. However, even including this minority, the number of people interested in your offer is finite.

So what is wrong with the original statement?

The point is you need to optimize your outbound communications. Doing anything else results in what some people call junk mail. It is also what I call a terrible waste of money and you shouldn’t do it.

Regardless of that, at some point, you will hit the maximum number of people who are ever going to take you up on your free Cliff ticket.

I’m going to take the next section very slowly. Simon, who’s almost allergic to numbers and is looking pretty blank at the moment, is my litmus test. If he gets this bit, anyone can.

The relationship between the volume compared to response is not linear, it starts getting further and further apart the more people you contact.

(Simon’s nodding doubtfully).

In other words you’ll get a worse and worse response rate, while the costs go up and up.  Knowing how and when to judge this optimum point is a real skill. When you hit it just right – you can get some brilliant results. The nifty thing here is that when judgement is applied in this area by someone who knows what they’re doing (alright I am talking about me, not Simon), you not only get brilliant results, but you know in advance that you’re likely to get these kind of results. They’re wonderfully predictable.  You can’t predict what one person will do, but you can predict what 10,000 people will do.

Far from reducing your income target, you could well be in a position to increase your income at the same time as you cut your costs. It is possible to achieve a greater net income by asking half as many people, as long as you cut out the half that was not likely to respond.

(Nod and a wink from Simon.)

So if, by some curious twist of fate, you actually are wondering who to contact to get rid of a barrel load of free Cliff Richard tickets, the answer is: cheapskate Cliff Richard fans.

 

An open letter to the next beautiful intern

Dear next beautiful intern,

Since today’s my last day at Beautiful World and you have yet to start work, this letter is the best way I could think of to do some kind of a handover to you.

I won’t be going through all the ins and outs of working here. The partners of Beautiful World don’t suffer fools gladly and they all come with built-in bullshit detectors. That’s why I’m confident whoever they pick as the next intern will be a pretty clued up person to figure it all out.

What I will do is flesh out my version of the beautiful intern specification and share some of my experience, in the hope that you can use it to make the most out of your time here.

First of all, you have to bring something to the table, like an opinion. If it also makes the partners laugh, it’s a real treat. Their laughter is infectious and it’s the best thing you could hear in the agency, other than news of winning pitches, raising millions for good causes and getting paid.

Therefore, having a sense of humour helps tremendously, because working for the greater good does make you want to tear your hair out sometimes.  Add to that bags of unwavering enthusiasm and you will never lose sight of why you’re really here.

Take initiative. Roll up your sleeves and do as much work as is humanly possible. When you’re done, ask for more. While the partners can do the tasks given to you much better and faster than you can, they sometimes forget that they have way too much on their plate. You’re here to help, so help them. You’re also here to learn, and I guarantee you’ll learn a lot by getting stuck in.

The great thing about working in Beautiful World is that you even get to run a few ideas of your own. If it wasn’t for me, the beautiful pouffe would still be called a footstool.

Other very useful skills to have are great attention to detail, being highly organised and super efficient, as well as making a gorgeous cup of tea/coffee.

Upon reflection, here are a few highlights from my experience:

Best moments
I know it sounds cliché, but it has to be everyday at Beautiful World. There aren’t many places where you go to work happy and leave work happy, so I’m one very lucky intern.

Greatest challenge
Deciphering Rachel’s handwritten notes.

Biggest regret
Making horrendous coffee for our beautiful visitors. It’s a fact I’ve learnt only recently and I fear the coffee could have been the deal breaker for some of our new business pitches. The partners might have to invest in a ‘million pound coffee maker’. No wait, that’s Adam.

What I’ve learnt
The past few times I’ve been asked the all important question, I couldn’t give a straight answer. I can only hope the words ‘muppet’ and ‘tosser’ didn’t spring to mind.

Some key discoveries:

• The kettle takes years to boil
• Chas and Dave
• ‘Quick’ and ‘dirty’ are words you can also use to describe data

In all seriousness, I’ve learnt more than just recency, frequency, value and not to mention, propensity models.   A lot of what I take from the internship is through observing how the partners all work together and how effective they are in conjuring up really great solutions for the challenges that clients have.  It’s been a great eye-opener and a huge inspiration for me to do the same, if not better.

I’m really grateful to have had the chance to work with the partners of Beautiful World, and to Simon for relinquishing creative control over this letter. They’re really nice people and I know you’ll like them as much as I do.

I do hope that I’ve left Beautiful World a little bit better, more organised and a livelier place to work in and my wish for you is that you will make Beautiful World better in your own way too.

Finally, if any of the partners threaten to superglue you to your chair at the end of your internship to keep you here, it might not be such a bad idea to say yes to that.

Sincerely,

Rebekah

 

Is fundraising becoming a dirty word?

So here I am, sitting down to a meeting with another potential beautiful client and we’re doing the introductions.

The guy to my left is in charge of ‘Supporter Retention’ (not development, just retention?). The lady to my right looks after ‘Supporter Acquisition’.  Chairing the meeting is the Head of Supporter Relationship Marketing.

A couple of days before that, I was in a meeting with someone whose job title was ‘Individual Giving Officer – Acquisition’ and, recently, with someone else in charge of ‘Supporter Marketing’. A week or two ago I met a Head of Supporter Services, who was actually the head of the Individual Giving function at that particular charity.

In fact, all of these good people are fundraisers.

Back at the beautiful office, we began to wonder, is this a little like bin men becoming waste removal engineers?  Or how about the window cleaner who is now a vision clearance executive? And the coffee guy who has become a barista?

Perhaps this rash of obscure job titles is symptomatic of a deeper issue? Are charities (at least some of them) becoming embarrassed at the idea of asking for money?

Could part of the reason be the proliferation of ‘social media experts’ flooding into the sector offering charities advice? These self-proclaimed gurus, many of whom have little or no fundraising experience, sell a beguiling dream of online social communities coalescing around charities and good causes in a beatific haze of generosity. Nothing as crude as asking for money need ever happen, if you engage in a dialogue with them, people will just give…

The hell they will.

You won’t find corporate fundraisers pussy-footing around the idea of asking for money. They’d be out of a job. The same applies to Major Donor Fundraisers. (Note the word fundraisers in the job title.) You know exactly what they want when you’ve had a conversation with one of these people, and so does your bank manager.

A creative director who once made my life a misery hammered home a very good piece of advice when it comes to charities and donors: tell people what the problem is, and tell them what you want them to do about it. You want money? Just ask.

Very few people put their hands in their pockets on the basis of a hint. Time after time, one of the top reasons donors cite for giving is, simply: ‘I was asked’.

Let’s not be embarrassed to be fundraisers. It’s a noble profession.

 
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