So, once upon a time in a land far, far away (Chesterfield, Missouri – most St. Louis folks view this as the equivalent of traveling to say, Australia), I used to have a job. This job kept me pretty busy (and often running about as if my hair was on fire and always juggling at least 10 balls in the air) and pretty entertained (don’t you have exploding sewage pipes at your office or dogs in service training peeping underneath the bathroom stalls at you?) and occasionally discouraged by the constant reiterations by corporate people to do things that I was doing . . . really, did I need to be copied on these emails and being bored to tears during select portions of conference calls? I was doing it. They knew I was doing it. I encouraged my team to do it. When they complained that they didn’t “get it” or whined about not having time to do it, I took care of it for them. I accepted, understood and had internalized the importance of it. I lived it, did it and enjoyed seeing the results from it.
What was this mysterious “it”? This concept that had corporate cracking whips, sending out remonstrating emails and practically begging for field compliance? The tangible evidence of ROI on so many initiatives and the way to prove we didn’t just send something randomly out into the universe and vaguely wondered if it was successful or not? I’ll tell you what it was – tracking links.
So, if you recall, I mentioned last week that I had an interview. During the course of the discussion the topic of blogging came up. This blog (that admittedly started when I suddenly had time on my hands) and the one I used to do quite a few entries for over at Kuhs Farm as “City Chick” are about the only personally creative outlets I had/have. Everything else I’ve done has been within a fairly restrictive corporate box. I don’t have an issue playing in that box. I just make things as appealing as I can while staying inside the box (and maybe do the happy dance when the creative agency calls out my 22×28 poster designs as superior), but it doesn’t give you much to showcase as an individual portfolio. I was surprised when the gentleman conducting the interview requested the links, so I sent them over, along with my thank you for the interview, later that same day.
And like a complete dummy, didn’t embed them as trackable links. Do you know what that is? Let me tell you, it is what is known as #Marketing Fail.
I was so nervous about the fact that this isn’t a “professional blog” that I failed to do this key element. I talk about making moonshine, sitting on the couch being bored while it rains, complain about filling out applications that don’t tell you word limits up front, celebrate companies who are nice enough to let me know that they are rejecting me and let some of my horse oriented adventures and weekend trips that involve things that are totally non-professional (hey – look at me, I enjoy a good cocktail!) creep in. I don’t mind that I have put this out there into the blog world – they are part of my reality and what is going on in my world right now. I wouldn’t have written those posts otherwise. I explained this at the time and reiterated in my email. Yet – my failure to do such a basic thing leaves me sitting and twiddling my thumbs (between more job searches, applications and cover letters). I sent something out into the universe or, more specifically, to this man’s inbox, and have no idea if it was successful or not. (Success in this case merely being that the links were clicked.) I can only stalk my stats via WordPress and sadly regret that I have failed to set up Google Analytics on this before today.
I’d say, “Live and learn.” But, I already lived it and learned it and would have done it automatically before. I can think of nothing better to sum this up other than the immortal and classic Homer Simpson saying of “D’oh!”