Your social media castle.

You've just launched your organization's Twitter account. What do you do next? Tell people about the next big offering? See how much traffic you can drive to your site with witty one liners and a link? Bombard followers with tweets? Make them inquisitive with half-sentences that require them to follow your disguised tiny-url link?

I know traditional marketers who want you to do that ... and, to some degree, it can be effective (But at what cost ... will you get kicked out of the barbecue?). I would argue that these tactics comprise a short-game approach, therefore the benefits are short-lived. 

The long-game approach: Castle.

If you've ever played chess, you've heard the term "castle". Without getting too detailed, castling—the act of moving the king and the rook simultaneously—effectively protects your king from attack. It's a swap, of sorts, between two chess pieces to create a fortified position.

For social media, castling comes from giving. Your client just received an award—tweet that. Your employees completed a volunteer project—tell the world. Someone offered to help you—praise them. Praising yourself might build a marketing plan, but praise of others builds castles.

Example: You're a nonprofit. You just found out that a bank offered to sell tickets to your next event. The classic marketing angle would dictate that you tweet, "Tickets now on sale at ..." or "Get your tickets now at ..." But why sell yourself? The bank has already offered to do it for you. Take your tweets a step further with praise for their volunteerism, "___ is grateful to (bank) for saving the (your mission). Thanks for selling tickets at each location!" Thanking them gets the message across and so much more.

Example: You're with a real estate firm and you've reached the closing on a newly built property. You could tweet the grand opening. You could tweet the economic impact. You could tweet that this makes you number one in sales for the region. But really, is that the best you can do? 

What if you praised the contractor for completing the project so quickly? What if you praised the bank, title company, appraiser or any of the other players for doing a great job? That's something everyone likes to read and that's how to start building your castle. You've still announced the closing, but you've done it in a way that thanks others for their work and professionalism.

Next, take the philosophy to Facebook by posting a photo of everyone standing in front of the property. Then write a glowing caption—not of the property, but describing everyone's hard work. Last, tag each person in the photo. They'll be updated that they were tagged in a photo and so will their friends, family and clients. Now you've used social media to help someone. Now you're building castles.

Then, what do you think will happen?

Call it karma. Call it the law of human reciprocity. Call it whatever you like, but now there's a reason for others to start praising you. So when you do a great job, win an award, mark an anniversary, etc., guess who tweets and re-tweets your success? The people you praised.

Let's suppose you get some negative press (it happens), guess who defends you in the blogosphere, tweetland and Facebook? The people you praised.

That's a social media castle ... and it can only be built by giving.

The Backyard Barbecue Rule.

As I prepare for a presentation to a mixed group of social media veterans and newbies, I'm pulling up an adage I've used for a while. I'm almost always asked about social media etiquette—what's appropriate to say, what's not.

"It's a digital backyard barbecue," I tell them. "The tone is casual. The style is anything but uptight. The grammar is imperfect, and that's okay. The people there want to talk about things that are interesting and fun. And, perhaps most importantly, anything you won't say at your neighbor's barbecue, don't say it in social media." 

For example, don't talk about work all the time. Who wants to hear that at a barbecue?

Don't sell things. Would you walk over to the neighbor's house, meet their friends and start handing out business cards and asking for appointments? You could. But don't expect to invited back. When you do the equivalent on Twitter, prepare to be "un-followed".

So how can we use social media for business? The backyard barbecue rule.

Can you talk about your next corporate event? Yes. And do it in a way that's accepted at the barbecue. If someone asks what you've been working on, tell them about the event and share any genuine enthusiasm ... emphasis on the genuine part. Sharing that same genuine enthusiasm in Twitter or Facebook is completely accepted, just like it's accepted at the barbecue.

Being genuine is the key, because—like most party-goers—your "friends" and "followers" will spot a fake. At that point, it's unlikely that anyone will object to you directly ... you just won't be invited to the next barbecue.

How do you define interruption?

Chances are, if you're an accountant, you define "interruption" in an unproductive way. That's because you were hired for a skill set that requires concentration and processing. Your productivity is disproportionate to the amount of time you're interrupted.

If you're on the sales team, the perspective changes. "Interruption"—by cell phone, email, text message, or Twitter—is defined as potential opportunity. You might even share horror stories about the client who was ready to buy but went to your competitor because you weren't available. Welcoming interruptions is vital to your bottom line.

It's one thing to understand that we all define interruptions differently. But how do we communicate that effectively? One of the greatest opportunities to do this is with your outgoing messages.

Suppose your voicemail message say something like, "Hey, this is Jackie's voice mail. Leave me a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

• If someone in sales leaves a message, "as soon as you can" could mean in five minutes.
• If someone in accounting is calling, "as soon as you can" could mean at the end of the day.

Each person who calls you has a different expectation of when you'll call them back. But what if you told them how you defined interruptions? In other words, what if you gave them some insight into your daily tasks and related your expectations for returning messages?

Here's a template: 

• Hey, this is John and you've probably reached my voicemail because I'm [writing reports/collecting depositions/interviewing clients/on the phone with a customer/etc.] 
• I usually check my messages [each afternoon/twice a day around noon and four p.m./as soon as I get out of my meetings/right away]. 
• If you'd like to leave a message, include your contact information and a time when it's convenient for me to reach you.  (Remember: The only way to get respect for your time is to give respect for someone else's. Here, you're giving them a chance to explain how they work.)
• Otherwise, I usually return messages [once a week/within one business day/this afternoon/within the hour/as soon as I check them].
  
• If you're request is detailed, feel free to email me at [your email address]. Thanks.

Now you've laid out the expectations based on what you were hired to do (and your definition of interruption). When someone asks you why, explain that everyone has a different concept of interruptions. Receptionists are hired precisely to answer ringing phones all day—interruptions are part of their core purpose and, therefore, welcome. Maintenance managers were hired to repair and maintain the building—interruptions might be for emergencies only, so anything less than an emergency needs to be put in the morning report, etc. It's a good conversation starter and can help to eliminate the tension over unexplained expectations.

Want to take it a step further? Put a similar script beneath your email signature.

Text Message Hell—Forget the voices in my head, they're coming from my phone!

I once worked with a person who asked me questions all day long. At first it was fun. But it didn't take long to learn that answering questions was a serious detriment to productivity. The work I was doing—writing letters, filling in reports, etc.—didn't require day-long concentration, but it did require consistent, brief stretches of uninterrupted time if I were to meet deadlines.

I asked my friend his opinion on the best way to handle this situation. His advice was to tell them, "I have enjoyed helping you and I'll always help when I can. Maybe you can help me. Would you mind keeping a list with your questions on a notepad? When the notepad gets full or at the end of the day—whichever comes first—stop in my office and we'll go through them. I've got quite a workload and this will help me both meet my deadlines and still help you, which is something I like doing."

I remembered this conversation after my most recent trip to text message hell, a nonstop back-and-forth chatter of unending questions. I don't mind a question or two, but at some point, we should just call this what it is—a meeting. The moment I would start working, I'd receive another question. In 30 minutes I could have completed my project, but the interruptions stretched that to an hour.

Obviously this was a moment when she had free time but I didn't. Recalling the story, I sent a text message asking her to collect her thoughts on the issue then call me. She did and we handled all of her questions in five minutes.

Texting has great advantages, but it's one of the most interruptive tools we can use. There have been times–when I've received a landslide of text messages simultaneously, for example—that I've been tempted to turn it off. But that won't change anything because the problem isn't the text messaging ... it's the way we use it.

Interruptions can happen in an office, by email, by phone and more. The channel isn't the issue. Managing interruptions is the skill we're looking for. Fortunately, the golden rule applies:

• Give what you hope to receive.

Before sending a text, I ask, "Does this person need to know this information right now?" If not, I'll send an email. This virtually eliminates the overwhelming majority of incoming text messages. It also allows me to only send a text when necessary—thereby making those texts more effective.

When I receive a text message, I ask myself, "Does this person need to know this information right now?" If not, I might say, "Great question, would you bring it up in the meeting?" or "Can we talk about this when I see you tonight?" or "Good question, would you jot down your thoughts and call me tomorrow morning?" 

Is it perfect? No. Some people just like interrupting. (Avoid those people or tell them to buzz off.) But I've found that the overwhelming majority of people appreciate consideration and are happy to respond in kind. 

Whether you're interrupted by text or in person, the skill of managing interruption is the same—through considering other people's time we gain consideration for our own.

Communication from the grave.

Thanks to the more than 300 people who bought tickets and copies of "Little Houses" at our local premiere last Friday. 

Though a single purpose for constructing the grave houses has never been found, they still communicate an extraordinary amount of information. After-party attendees were quick to tell me stories of why they heard the houses were built. The theories are fascinating. One truth surfaces—now almost 100 years old, the last three Cajun grave houses continue to communicate an intriguing message.

I had hoped to learn for certain why the custom of Cajun grave house building was adopted and later abandoned. But the mystery has become the prize. It underscores that what we say in life is important. And even after death, we may continue to speak.

View the trailer for the film above. For more information on "Little Houses—A short film about death.", visit thelittlehouses.com. DVDs will soon be available online along with a list of future showings.