Never Soon Enough

When I ask new clients about their desired timeline, sometimes they’ll reply, “How’s Monday?” 

I’ll laugh. They’ll laugh. Then we’ll grow quiet as I realize they are serious. Marketers have a thing with time. They’re starved for it. And their executives are forever pressuring them to use less. When marketers hire us, we inherit a lit fuse.

That’s at odds with what I know produces effective writing and design, and we at Fenwick are always defending our deadlines. Yet I’m open to feedback. I want to know how we can better support marketing teams who went through it last year. So I’ve analyzed past projects to figure out where our time actually goes. 

That research confirmed a long-held suspicion: Very little of our writing and design work is actually writing and design. I used to think of creative projects as densely packed. I now think of them like atoms: little bursts of work matter among 99% empty space.*

Clarissa and I investigated one project in particular that highlights this point—and also suggests that if marketers want faster, that’s easy—but we’ll have to compact their part of the operation.

The 10-week project that took 10 months

A client hired us to build an online course for sales professionals. We did everything but code it. I felt it went slow. But to understand objectively, I reviewed a full year of Slack messages, Google Docs version histories, design file comments, emails, and my personal notes to create a timeline. Here is what I found.

Out of those 10 months, Clarissa and I only needed 26 work days to create the actual assets. I wrote the entire course—15,000 words—in just seven days. Clarissa designed the entire thing in just 13. We did not build it, and this was one of our errors—the client’s developers took a geologic 80 days to complete it. (Which is not to point fingers. We did plenty else wrong.)

In sum, we spent vastly more time waiting than we did creating. And my question was, why?

We lost time to scheduling errors (21% prep time)

We did not schedule the interviews ahead of time. The client, Dave (a pseudonym), told us he had people lined up but then disappeared and did not make those introductions. Two weeks in, he finally replied saying, “Sorry, things have been crazy.” Luckily, I found my own interviewees to supplement.

My personal interviewees booked quickly (usually within the week), and so did Dave’s once he finally introduced them—all except for two, who never responded. We lost time waiting to see if they would.

All this waiting was wasteful, yes. But it did have one upside: I had so much time in between interviews I practically wrote the whole course in my head. That’s why I only needed seven days. And surprisingly, I’m pleased with the quality. It’s among my clearest work.

We lost time on reviews (19% waiting)

You might think interviewees were the problem, but they weren’t. All of them approved their interview drafts within one day, with just one exception—an interviewee said he’d ask his legal team but didn’t. That cost us 18 days on his chapter. (And after all that wait, his legal team barely changed anything.)

The biggest waste came from confusion around who was to review and when. Dave, a head of marketing, had told his direct report to run this project. But she didn’t know what that meant, exactly, so every time we asked her a question in Slack, she’d reply 4-5 days later, saying, “Dave says that’s okay.” Sometimes we had a question about Dave’s response and it’d be another few days. For one two-week stretch, Dave was unreachable and no work happened.

And once all the interviews were done, the client introduced a new, mystery reviewer who should have been involved up front.

We lost time on a messy developer handoff (43%)

At the outset, we asked to talk to the client’s website developer so we could understand their requirements. They used an agency, and the client’s direct report insisted she be the go-between. For some reason, I did not fight her. I think I was busy. But she was not effective at this and it took months to get clear on specifications. When we finally delivered the copy and designs, they didn’t respond. For weeks. 

I kept following up. Our point of contact would eventually reply that there were “other competing priorities” and that it’d happen “soon.” I only knew it went live when I saw it on their website.

How we grew from this

So how can I use that information to move faster? Frankly, I find it a relief. We already write and design quickly and needn’t cut there. 

All the waste crept in at the seams between our work and that of others. But I still consider it my fault, because the question isn’t, “What did the client do wrong?” It’s, “Why did the system allow that?” To me, that’s a call for us to create a better, more prescriptive process for our clients to follow.

Changes we've made since:

• Improved our onboarding decks—The client doesn’t know what’s needed and can’t be expected to. We now define roles, handoffs, and our creative workflow.
• Clarified roles with RACI—On this project, I failed to designate a review “owner” on the client side. That’s on me. (And I’m evaluating an alternative, RAPID.)
• Began gathering more material upfront—If a client says they’ll provide something, like interviews, research, or introductions, we need it, or to know it exists, before we begin.
• Eliminated unnecessary reviews—I’m now of the opinion that clients shouldn’t review unless there’s a reason. If they insist on reviewing, they must agree to turnaround times and we must talk through hypotheticals. E.g. “If I don’t hear from you within three days I will proceed and we will consider that material locked. Sound good?”

In addition, this helped inspire the new Fenwick principle below, which encourages us to design projects that are, if I may, client-proof.

Strong defaults: We believe default options are powerful. We always offer a default option and design ours with care because we understand that people may be too busy to reply—but this shouldn’t harm or slow the project. Our programs are resilient or “strongly defaulted” enough that whatever item we ask for feedback on could credibly serve as the final version, and that in the absence of direction, we’ll always proceed with our best judgment. 

In sum, if our clients want us to move fast, we can. We can cut dead air space. But it requires much greater coordination on their part too, and cuts probably can’t come from writing and design time.

Cheers,

Chris Gillespie

CEO at Fenwick

Longview is enriched by my conversations with the Fenwick team. Enjoy this issue? Share with someone you love.

*Atoms are actually 99.9999999999996% empty, but this looks funny so I rounded off.

How to apply today's story

Practice strong defaults. Set up your next project so it will proceed regardless of whether your manager or client responds. Clearly communicate those participation windows, and that if your manager or client misses them, they cannot go back.

You may be surprised to find that this harsh-seeming guidance is welcome. Constraints relieve them of worry.

Also, would you want to hear more about the above client project? I have more material and could write it up for Marginalia, but would need to be prodded.

In the next issue

A parable: The artist and the moneymaker.

Inside Fenwick

Would you ever chat about the classics with a long-dead AI author’s avatar? Donnique is helping a client rethink books as a format. (I’d love to hear your reaction.)

Clarissa and Amanda have produced two client websites soon to go live. Sarah recently wrote a go-to market course which I’m excited to say earned 1,600+ signups within 48 hours. Amanda and I produced a rush ebook on the current international blood shortage. And Carina did some great work on Loopio’s annual report.

We’re also taking newly designated “no meeting” Wednesdays seriously and watercolored with Andrea and Atelier Reno. Carina’s cat Beatrice only interrupted a record low of thrice.

Worth reading

Invisible Ink: At the CIA’s Creative Writing Group. So funny. A great example of a writer giving readers the immense pleasure of feeling smart. 

Flashback: Are you a motor one or motor two writer?

The Cost of Dying. Ugh. That title. The design. So artfully restrained.

What do your buyers think? Tara knows. A fast-paced Q&A with marketing leader and friend of Fenwick, Tara Panu. (Video, 57 min)**

The geometry of other people. The area of our brains that processes geography also processes social relations. So when you say a “close friend,” your brain means it literally. (Long read.)

Wise design. I have a full-blown crush on this company.

It only Tuesday.

Enjoying Longview? Share with someone you love.

 ** Legally required language: This workshop is exclusively part of The Vault, Refine Lab’s (Leading B2B Digital Marketing and Demand Generation Agency) platform where you get access to resources, playbooks, and templates. For more information or to get access, visit Refine Labs.