Three Issues Preventing AEC Websites from Being Sales Assets

As I roam the web looking for ideas and doing research for projects, I spend a lot of time on AEC websites. After seeing enough of these things, I've started picking up on a few themes that keep a website from being a great sales asset.

I boiled it down to three things I see most often. And I wanted to talk about them and why they're important and how, if you’re dealing with one (or all of them), a few ways you can fix the problem.  

Fluff, Fluff, Fluff

There’s one thing I notice time and time again with AEC firm writing.

It’s the lofty, fluffy language that sounds nice to the writer (and the firm) but doesn’t say a thing to the reader. And I get why it happens. The company wants to sound aspirational, particularly in architecture and design firms, to convey a sense of innovation and creativity.

But if a prospect has no idea what you do or who you’re serving, they’ll never see those beautiful project shots and renderings.

So, here’s what needs to happen.

Take a page of your website. Read through it and identify any industry jargon and or phrases that aren’t needed or won’t make a bit of sense to someone outside your company.

The fluff needs to go. Cut it. Scrap it. Remove it and never look back.

Read your competitor’s websites. If you stripped the branding away, could anyone tell the difference between your companies?

If the answer is “No,” it’s time to work on developing a unique brand voice. But that’s a story for another day. 

The Focus is on the Firm, Not the Customer

Many (if not most) AEC websites focus on the company's capabilities or projects instead of addressing what customers are looking for.

It’s rare to see any copy walking a client through the firm’s process. Or who’s not a good fit for their services.

While images of completed projects can be inspiring or showcase talent, they don’t let the prospect envision working with you. All they see is the end product. There’s really nothing talking to them about the stage of the process they’re in right now.

So, you start to blend in with everyone else. 

This fix may take a little more work, but it’s worth it. Go back and review your notes from client meetings. If they’re recorded video calls, even better. 

Listen to what they say, read the words they use, and start thinking about how to incorporate that into your web copy. If one customer says something, the next person you want to work with is likely saying or thinking the exact same thing.

They’re Absent of (Good) Storytelling

Yet, there are opportunities all over the website.

One place where this is prevalent is portfolio and project pages. There's usually some description of the work. And some high-quality images.

But the writing focuses on the outcome with a high-level overview of what was needed in the project. There are details like square footage and maybe a note on budget.

And almost nothing about the client.

A prospect will read this and may take something away about your technical ability. But there's nothing there to separate you from every other firm.

There’s no tension in the story and no challenge that needed overcoming. Those things existed. They were part of the project.

But they're an afterthought when it's time to tell what happened.

But there's hope. This can be a pretty easy fix. The best way to handle it is to find out why this project happened in the first place.

I'm sure you know why but really dig into it. What issues did your client face? Were they running against a very tight deadline? Was the budget an issue that forced you to get creative?

Talk about those things. And include quotes from your client about them.

And take advantage of the stories you already have. When I see an AEC website with a lot of video content, I start looking for the other assets they've created using that footage. Don't check my math on this, but 90% of the time, that video is all that ever was.

There's no blog post, no email, no social posts. One video testimonial can be turned into no less than seven different assets.

Write a customer story using the quotes and information from the video (the interview is already done!).

Create two social posts linking to the blog or the project. Clip the video and create a Reel for Instagram (there's a bonus post for you).

Write two sales emails with different quotes or compelling moments from the interview. Create a sales one-pager to stick on a folder or brochure when you meet with a client.

Video costs a lot of money. And it's very underutilized in how it can be deployed.

Why All of This Matters 

I know it's not easy

Look, I get it. It's not easy to write.

Grammarly tells me I'm slinging about 80,000 words a week. I spend most of my day doing this, and there are plenty of times when I wonder if I can even put together a good sentence, much less write copy that resonates with someone and moves them to take action.

But that's why this is so important.

There are words all over the internet. The people you want to work with are seeing them everyday.

It takes a lot to get them to stop. To make them remember a story.

But when you're thoughtful about it, and you create something compelling, something they feel they can hold onto even after they close their laptop or phone, you'll find that your work is making a difference.

You may not get more emails. But you will start getting emails from the kind of people you actually want to work with. 


The Goods from Content Mastery Training: Content Audits, Inventories, & Evaluations

Thanks for joining the Content Mastery training! You took an hour of your time and chose to spend it with me and Bailey learning how to make your digital content a little better. 

We covered a lot in 60 minutes, so if you have questions or something you need to get off your chest (about content), you can email me

As promised, here’s the inventory template I’ve customized. If you want it, just make a copy, and you’re good to go. You don’t have to use this one, but it should give you a solid starting point. And there are plenty of options out there. I used Wordstream’s as the basis for my template. Ahref’s has a nice template that’s a little different. Look at several, find elements you like based on what you need, and customize your own. 

If you’d like a refresher on the opening part of the training, check out the slides I used.

I hope content inventories don’t seem so overwhelming now. And if you start taking stock of your website or app or whatever, reach out and let me know how it’s going. I’m sure I can learn a few things from your process as well. 

And if you want to see what I’m up to, follow me on LinkedIn, where I resist the urge to write broetry and try to provide something useful at least one day a week. 

You can also find me on Substack. I’m just getting started over there, so don’t be alarmed by the loads of white space you’ll see on my profile. 

P.S. You’d almost be doing yourself a disservice not to join the Word’s First community. I’ve learned so much from Bailey through collaborating, her course, and the community. I wouldn’t be doing content inventories if I had never met Bailey. She’s an amazing resource; you’ll enjoy every minute you interact with her and the other members.

It’s Good to Screw Up Sometimes

Putting work out there is a funny thing. And then seeing that work published online, in forums where people can comment and react, all without any control or chance to pull it down.

Full-time journalists do this every day. Or at least a lot more frequently than me. 

Most of my work is hidden in plain sight, on a website, an email, and even a print ad or two. But never anything with my name on it. Nothing that said, “Hey, this is Ben’s writing. Ben did it!”

So, if someone critiqued or said it was awful or just ripped it to pieces (figuratively or literally), I never knew it. Once the edits were finished and the Google Doc comments resolved, I went about my days without thinking about what other people thought of my work.

It was pretty low risk. Of course, I want the words to do their job. Convert customers or whatever the particular copy was written for. But there was no public square where my work could be discussed, no comment section or like count.

A couple of weeks ago, I found myself in a position where this all changed. I’d pitched the Free Times an article about my city’s growth. They picked up the story and I went out and interviewed a bunch of people, wrote the thing, edited it and then edited some more.

It went live and I was nervous. I figured they’d post it on their social channels and I’ve seen the dumpster fire that can happen in those comments. 

And I’ve pitched news stories before. But, like most of my copywriting work, it was fairly safe up until now. 

Now, don’t get it twisted. It’s not like this piece was front page, above the fold, breaking news kind of stuff. But it was a topic that I figured could drum up a little difference of opinion. People get dicey when you talk about city development.

Naturally, I kept refreshing the page to see what was happening. Although I feared what people might say about my work, I worried even more that they would say nothing at all.

Over time, some comments rolled in. One in particular mentioned some of my word choices about an area being “undeveloped.” While not an indictment of my writing, it made me think maybe I missed something.

Later that afternoon, I decided to check the comments again. 

This time, to my horror, one of the people I interviewed commented. Not to complain about the piece itself but saying her last name was wrong. I didn’t see my face, but if I’d been looking in a mirror, I imagine it would have quickly been white and immediately replaced with a bright shade of red.

I’d screwed up. Pulled an old switcheroo on some last names. The meltdown was on. 

Not only did I have to worry about people I don’t know and would never meet commenting on my work, but now I have an editorial crisis in the form of swapping two sources' names.

I told my wife that this was it. The gig was up. My writing credibility was shot and I’d be lucky to get paid another dollar for putting words on a page.

As the doom spiral continued into the evening, she said, “You know what. Nobody’s really thinking about that article anymore.” Sheesh. Sounds harsh, right?

But it’s true. People read stuff and they move on. If you’re lucky, they might read the whole thing. 

And if you’re really lucky, they might even leave a comment about it. But by 6:00 that night, they’re thinking about dinner, how to get their kid to stop crying, or that other article they just came across on their Facebook feed.

They’re not sitting around discussing the finer points of the lede in my article. And odds are, they didn’t even see my name in the byline. 

But it doesn’t really matter. 

That’s not to diminish my work or anyone else’s who does this. Because it’s a lot easier to leave a comment, nasty or nice than it is to set up interviews, follow leads, research, and write a story. Then edit until you’re so sick of reading that you’d rather throw it in the trash than look at it again (although you probably should - see the above paragraph).

Between the comments and my mistake, I let myself get in a bad place about all of it. I let myself think that I’m not cut out for this and that taking on this kind of assignment was a mistake. My skin isn’t thick enough for it.

Yet, here I am, about a month after I sent that story for publishing. Nobody has shown up on our doorstep to protest my writing. 

Even the lady whose name got switched had a little joke about it online. I’m no worse for the wear. I have more stories coming out. And even though I could give any sensitive creative a run for their money with the fragility of my work ego, I can’t seem to stop myself from wanting to write more of these stories.

Next time, maybe I’ll avoid the comments when it all goes live. And double check those last names one more time. 


The Thing About Work Being Slow

A couple of months ago, I was having a grand old time adjusting to the lifestyle of an American tourist in Dublin (i.e., going to Guinness, Books of Kells, etc.) and the 55-degree, cloudy days (which I miss dearly). 

And while this trip of a lifetime was only just beginning, it gave some ample time for reflection on work. 

Not too much, because that sort of defeats the whole point of vacation. I sent one, maybe two, emails while we were away. And when I did check my inbox, I got less than one or two emails from anyone else. 

And it was great. 

Part of that was decent planning on my part. I worked hard in May to take most of June off (including an extra week for another round of COVID). 

The other part is things just haven’t been as busy this year. I’ve been ghosted by a handful of folks. Pitch emails go unanswered. Replies say, “we just don’t need that right now,” or “we found someone else.” 

For a while, the negative part of my brain honed in on this stuff. Made a mountain out of it. But when I sit back and think about it, this slow season has been a good thing. 

It’s given me time to do a bunch of stuff that I wouldn’t normally do when work is wide open. 

Things like grabbing lunch with my wife and our friends on a Tuesday and going to an art museum. 

And taking writing classes in the middle of the day. Or playing tennis in the morning instead of sitting down at my desk with a coffee. I even worked on some stuff for free (don’t @ me). 

Last Friday, I sat in a coffee shop and wrote an outline for a story. Then spent 45 minutes writing the first draft on Monday. 

This time last year, I was covered up with work. Now, I’m looking for more of it. 

But I actually think I’ve enjoyed myself a lot more this year. I’ve leaned into the flexibility of freelancing instead of always looking for more work. I don’t feel a ton of pressure and I think a lot of that comes from having a solid savings runway. 

It’s also a result of putting less of my identity into work. What I do at the keyboard is essential, but it’s not what I hang my hat on anymore. That’s reserved for all the stuff I’m blessed to do when I’m not sitting at a desk. 

In these moments away, nothing ever caught on fire. No one was asking me where I was.

And I’ll remember all the fun stuff much with more than time spent in my inbox. 

Chat GPT Can't Do This

It can't walk onto the deck of a ship and see a man sitting outside a dormant gun battery. 

It doesn't notice his leather skin, tanned during the seven years he’s volunteered at this historic site. 

It doesn't hear him tell me he joined the Navy in 1962 or imagine what it must have been like when he was sitting off the coast of Cuba as Soviet ships came knocking. 

It can't ask what that moment was like and listen to him explain that, like everyone else, he thought the world was coming to an end. 

ChatGPT doesn't see a 5th grader's jaw drop when I tell him the man I've been talking to was in the middle of an event that seems like ancient history. 

It can't see the look of pride on that man's face when he tells the story of the battleship he's charged with watching over. It can’t picture the carnage he describes when explaining how the ship took bomb after bomb and suffered waves of Kamikaze attacks but still stayed afloat. 

It doesn't understand the shine in his eyes or his excitement from telling someone these stories. How he stands, cane in hand, with his “Retired Navy” hat on, talking to a family that stopped to ask him a question. 

ChatGPT doesn't know what's it like to walk through the bowels of a long-retired aircraft carrier. It can't smell the mix of steel, oil, and grease, so tangible you can taste it. 

It can't bend down, ducking through doorways and into cramped spaces where men had to do jobs in impossible circumstances and conditions.

It can't picture what it must have been like for the boiler room crew, constantly wiping sweat from their brows and knowing in the back of their mind that, at any moment, an unseen death could come above or below. 

ChatGPT can't climb the steps to a B-25 bomber, squeeze into a turret,  and get a glimpse of the terror a gunner would face when they saw a Japanese fighter dive out of the sun. 

It doesn't look around the floating steel hulk and consider what life was like for young men to wake up every day in the middle of the ocean and wonder if death would have their number. 

ChatGPT can't walk the flight deck with 11-year-olds, their eyes squinted as they ask how they're supposed to stand up in the winds that push them back. 

It doesn't find itself thinking about my Grandpa and his life on a ship during the world's greatest conflict. It doesn't remember the stories he told, how he described the sound of German bombers passing over his ship on their way to drop a lethal payload on the citizens of London. 

It can't hear him tell about one of his buddies who went AWOL every time those planes crossed the Channel, the drone of hundreds of twin engines too much for him to handle. 

ChatGPT can’t go on class field trips and spend time with kids eager to learn. It doesn't leave a place feeling a sense of respect and an eagerness to capture the stories of the past before they fade from memory. 

It saddens me that we live in a world more fascinated by the responses a machine can produce than by the stories and life found in another human being. 

A culture that wants to find ways to exploit artificial intelligence for profit and sometimes evil. A society that looks for short cuts instead of dedication to learning and craft. 

And instead of sitting across for someone for a cup of coffee or on the aft of a ship and having a conversation, we flee to corners of the internet in search of connection and answers from things that don't even know we exist.

How to Use Loom in Your Freelance Business

The other day I commented on a LinkedIn post about presenting copywriting work to a client. 

The person who posted is a copywriter I’ve followed for a while. He made the point that it’s important to present your copy and show a client why you’ve written it in such a way. 

He said it’s important to demonstrate intentions and thoughts behind the words you deliver. Then, you can build support for your work and ideas.

I see the value in presenting my work in some way or another on almost every project. And my favorite presentation method is recording a Loom video. So I commented on his post and shared how Loom allows me to explain my process and strategies and help build rapport with my customer. 

Plus, I like to talk, so it’s fun for me. 

I also posted on LinkedIn the same day, but my comment on the other writer's post got more likes than my original post, so I figured I’d ride the LinkedIn algorithm roller coaster and give the platform what it wants. 

Loom has been a powerful tool for my freelance business. 

I’ve been a paying customer (there is a free version as well) for over a year now. And I didn’t start using it because of some novel conclusion I reached. 

I learned about Loom from another LinkedIn user who shared how they used it. And I adopted a similar method.  

While I’m not the first freelance writer to utilize Loom, I wanted to write about how I implement it in my process, offer some tangible examples, and give tips on how to use it. 

Loom lets me talk about it 

I always have a lot to say after I’ve finished writing something. I want to tell the person who’s receiving a draft the thoughts that bounced around my head as I put everything together. And I just can’t seem to do that via email. 

Asynchronous video gives me a platform to talk about my work. I explain why I wrote the copy the way I did and discuss any nuances or things I couldn’t explain in an email. Sometimes I joke or laugh about tech issues that happen when a page won’t load or something odd I stumbled across while researching.  

And honestly, that’s really how I started using Loom. I was typing out my thoughts in an email and realized I didn’t want to write everything I had to say and the client probably doesn’t want to read it. 

Since then, I’ve used it on various projects and almost universally get positive feedback. The first client who received a recording said, “We really love those videos.” 

Now, here I am, cranking videos out for nearly every project.

Loom has (almost) eliminated the need for project meetings 

Hands down, the best part of Loom is that it eliminates the need to schedule calls to review work. 

I’ve written a sales page copy project with only one client meeting because of Loom. 

According to my Loom stats, I’ve saved a total of 51 meetings by using the platform. 

I’m not exactly sure how they define a “saved meeting” (most of my videos are less than 10 minutes), but that number is music to my ears. 

I’m still recovering from the days of back-to-back-to-back meetings in my former corporate life. So avoiding a discussion that didn’t need to happen is a sweet, sweet thing.  

Meetings serve a purpose but also get in the way of creative work. 

And they can be a massive time drain. That reality became crystal clear when I started freelancing full-time. So I schedule meetings strategically and then use Loom to communicate ideas, roadblocks, or other topics that warrant discussion. 

Asynchronous video saves everyone time. And it’s a perfect tool for handling an issue that is too much to type out in an email but not enough to warrant a call. It also gives everyone time to think about the issue without needing to respond in real time. 

Loom is a key part of my first writing process 

When I wrap up the first draft of work, I want the client to get in my head a bit. 

I want them to understand how and why I chose the words and structured the piece. And guiding them through it with a video is the best way to share my thoughts.  

I typically start by saying hello. Then, I restate the goal of what we’re working on. So, I say something like, “I really wanted to focus on how your service helps business owners cut down on inefficiencies,” (I’ve never said that, but you get the idea). 

Then, I review each section and call out sentences, paragraphs, or critical points I want the client to note. And I try to do this all in the frame of the intended audience we’re writing to. 

Blogs are pretty straightforward, but with web copy or emails, I also want to discuss design elements if necessary. It’s a great place to say, “I think a call to action button will work well here.” 

Those comments also help reinforce my expertise. 

I’m not just writing the copy. I’m playing a role in the content strategy and how to move customers through the sales process. 

I wrap up the videos by telling them to review what I’ve written, leave any comments in the document, and respond with their own video if they’d like. 

Sharing design and concept ideas with video 

I work on several projects that require me to put my drawing skills to use. 

And since I’ve only taken two art classes in my life, there’s not a lot of raw ability to work with. 

So, Loom has become my saving grace in explaining what’s in my head and what the client looks at on the screen. 

Here’s an example. 

I worked on an infographic project where the client asked me to develop an initial design to showcase how fiber internet can improve an entire community. Once I researched and knew what it should look like, I sketched it on Microsoft Whiteboard. 

And honestly, I was impressed with my trees. But everything else clearly demonstrated why I’m a writer, not a painter. 

So, I created a Loom video pitching the concept to the client and explaining that those circles on top of triangles were, in fact, people. 

It was also a tool for explaining to the illustrator how I wanted the design to look, where the copy would go, and things to emphasize. 

I’ve used Loom several more times to explain design ideas, rough concepts, and what I’m thinking about. And it’s worked so much better than trying to type these thoughts out. 

Provide more details (and a human touch) on quotes, pitches, and project scope

I’ve recently found that Loom’s usefulness extends to the administrative side of my work. 

I recently used it to walk through a PowerPoint deck on a proposed content strategy session. And when I’ve raised prices or created a new scope of work, a quick Loom video seems to help people grasp what they’re looking at a little better. 

And when it’s time to add new pieces to my portfolio, I send a video to my designer explaining how I’d like it to look on the website. 

Keep these things in mind when using Loom 

Loom’s not perfect. 

I’ve had a few issues with the Chrome extension, which is what I most often use. And the desktop version can be a little clunky and is missing some features, like a blurred background (maybe I just can’t find how to turn it on). 

On the whole, though, it’s become one of those things I can’t live without. 

So, if you’re looking to implement it into your work, here’s a little guidance to get you started. 

Set an expectation for the length of the video

I typically try to say, “It’s a short video,” or, “I promise this will only take 3 minutes of your time.” 

Many people don’t use asynchronous video in their daily work. Help them understand how much time they’ll be spending listening to you. 

When you send a video, give some context, especially if this is your first time using it with a client or someone you collaborate with. 

My go-to statement is various versions of this: “I wanted to use this video to explain some of my thoughts, so you can understand how I came up with these concepts.” 

Explain the utility of the tool

Loom can save you and your client a lot of time. And it’s important to explain to them the benefits of watching you talk. You may work with folks who still want to get on the phone or video call. 

Let them know that Loom can save them time and there’s a benefit to having a resource they can watch over again, if needed. 

And encourage clients and colleagues to interact with you via Loom (they don’t need an account to see your videos). One of the platform's best features is allowing users to comment at specific timestamps in the video. And they can record their response or leave their thoughts for you to review. 

Leverage video in your business 

Loom and other asynchronous videos won’t replace every meeting or change how you do business overnight. 

But when it’s deployed in a way that fits your business model, it can become a tool that saves you time and adds additional value to the services you provide. 

For Bailey Lewis, It’s Always Been About Words First

Bailey Lewis remembers first grade vividly.  

She’d just transferred to a new school and every kid in her class could read. But Bailey hadn’t learned her alphabet, so she was placed in the lowest reading group. 

At five years old, Bailey was mad. She loved reading. She’d already fallen in love with words. Now, she was surrounded by many kids who didn’t share her passion. 

“So, I made it a point to learn really quickly and be able to read on my own,” Bailey said.  

Her love for words never waned and when asked what she wanted to be when she grew up, her answer was a writer. But, like just about anyone who’s ever given that answer, she was told she’d never make a living putting words on paper. 

“And I just didn't listen to any of them,” Bailey said. “Because I'm ornery and stubborn.” 

So she pursued a degree in English. And for good measure, she got a degree in Advertising “in case they [the naysayers] were right.”

“I just always knew somehow I was going to make that work,” Bailey said.

Bailey did make it work. She worked as a digital production editor for publications moving their content online. At that time, it was a task no one else had done yet. So, Bailey had to figure out how to get the content into the digital space in a user-friendly way.  And during those experiences, she saw the expanding digital landscape, where people would spend most of their day online, as an opportunity. 

It would take her down a path of designing online spaces that put people and words first. And the chance to launch her own business, helping businesses think about digital content strategy differently. 

“I fell into technology” 

When Bailey began working in content strategy, it wasn’t a “thing.” Very few people were practicing it. 

“I accidentally became a digital person,” she said 

This was around 2011. Bailey landed in Columbia hoping to make her literary career work out.  And avoiding a recession job market. She’d applied to more than 200 jobs and received zero offers. So, it seemed like an ideal time to pursue her passion for writing fiction. Bailey applied to several masters of fine arts (MFA) programs, all with the same requirement: they had to be near an ocean. Growing up in landlocked Iowa, she was ready to live in a state where the coast isn’t halfway across the country. 

Bailey was accepted at the University of South Carolina. And she’s been here ever since. The US was still dealing with the effects of the 2008 recession. 

The digital landscape was also going through an extensive shift. Publications were moving online to help manage the increasing costs of printing and shipping physical copies. 

So, Bailey worked with publishing houses like Drunken Boat Media and the University of South Carolina’s Yemassee.

“None of us knew what we were doing,” Bailey said. “None of us knew how to produce literary content online.” 

They were trying to figure out ways to get poems and other media online in a user-friendly way. And that’s when it dawned on Bailey that this wasn’t just a literary magazine problem. Everyone was facing this challenge. 

“I fell into technology that way,” Bailey said. 

Even though she didn’t realize it then, she worked in content strategy with literary publications. Those experiences helped her take the next step and start solving content strategy problems for businesses.

“I convinced a large banking institution that they should hire a fiction writer to be their content strategist,” she said. 

Bailey’s interviewers noted her passion for digital content was evident. Some of her initial work was on the first sites for AgFirst Farm Credit Bank branch locations.  

Since that first gig as a content strategist, Bailey has led digital content strategy for large clients, ranging from healthcare to higher education. She became an expert in digital accessibility for content strategy. Bailey’s knowledge enables her to roadmap content strategies and lead teams to design websites, apps, and digital assets so they’re more accessible to all human beings. 

The problems are getting harder 

Bailey says the content strategy problems organizations face today are much more profound than how to get a poem online. Because of this, she sees her role as being a guide for teams and leaders working in digital spaces.  

“Over the last 10 to 12 years, I figured out a lot of things leading end-to-end digital content strategy implementation projects,” Bailey explained. “And [where]  content and technology converge.”

Along with developing strategy, Bailey oversaw the work of UX content teams, from the discovery calls through the post-launch of a project. 

Through these experiences, she’s learned that human-centric content strategy must lead the way. Bailey wants to support people creating online content and help them implement it in a way that supports natural brain behavior instead of fighting against it. 

One problem Bailey encounters in her work is educating people on what digital content strategy is. Those in the marketing world instantly think of content like blogs, case studies, and production-level work. 

Others, well, may have yet to learn what the term means. So, Bailey puts a lot of thought into communicating the value of her knowledge and skillset. 

“People do not have to understand that it's called user experience content strategy in order to benefit from it,” Bailey said. 

Helping companies create human centric strategies 

When Bailey looks back at her work, she finds a unique thread for someone who always wanted to be a writer: her interest in technology. 

“How interested I continue to be in technology surprises me,” Bailey said. 

She described going to developer meetups, despite being unable to code her way out of a paper bag (those are Bailey’s words) and being fascinated with the conversations.

And really, for a digital content strategist, a love for technology is at the core of the work. 

Today, Bailey’s focus at Words First Content Strategy is helping clients understand content’s role in their business through coaching and training sessions. 

Her coaching sessions and workshop training help organizations assess their current content strategy and develop a plan that balances audience needs and business goals. This service was born from a need Bailey saw while working on content for various organizations. 

“I started to see the real need to have the ability to work side by side with teams and side by side with leaders,” Bailey said.    

Her goal is for a business to understand its content strategy, what it means, and how to use it because they partnered with her to develop the plan. 

In addition to her content strategy coaching, Bailey is also on the speaking circuit. She’s presented to organizations in Europe and across the US, including staff at the US Senate. 

A future with words first 

When she looks toward the future, Bailey said she wants to focus more on speaking and writing about digital content. 

“When I really do grow up, I would love to just be speaking and writing,” Bailey explained. “And doing select really good fit coaching with certain organizations.” 

Until then, like so many business owners in the digital space, Bailey adjusts how she describes her work based on how content related terms are being used. She’s settled on telling people she’s in user experience content strategy, gauging their reaction, and then giving the elevator pitch if they look lost. 

“I help leaders, teams, and professionals communicate to people in digital spaces in a way that's compassionate, in a way that puts their audiences first and in a way that helps them as creators,” Bailey tells them. 

Bailey said she’s gotten better at describing what she does, but it’s an ever-evolving task like digital content strategy. 

You can dive deeper into Bailey’s coaching work or join her Words First Community. And connect with her on LinkedIn to get regular content strategy insights. 


What freelancing taught me in 2022

I don’t want this to be one of those “22 things I learned from freelancing in 2022.” Don’t get me wrong, some of them are well done. But it’s not really my thing and I don’t want to create something that’s been done well before the third week of January 2023. And it’s hard to think of 22 things. 

I’m mostly writing this for myself. I don’t reflect much on work. Sometimes I think, “that turned out pretty well,” or, “that was really hard and I probably should have charged more.” I’m trying to force myself to write about my freelance experience, and I figured maybe one other person could also benefit from it. 

There are no hacks, tips, or tricks. You can read most of this stuff on blogs that are much more popular than mine. But a few of them, I think, fly in the face of things I’ve told myself I should be doing. Or how freelancing should be. 

I really didn’t market myself and it turned out okay 

I spent most of the year saying, “I should really use [insert platform] to gain more clients.” 

I never did. 

LinkedIn is where I thought I needed to be more active. I tried getting back on Twitter and it was bad for my mental health within the first five minutes of me scrolling through the feed. 

Part of the reason I didn’t “market” myself is I had plenty of work without really needing to put energy into LinkedIn. But I also didn’t make time to do it. 

And honestly, most of that is because LinkedIn feels exhausting to me. So do taxes. And folding laundry. But they all serve a purpose, right? This year I will [try] to make more time for LinkedIn because I’ve seen the benefits of it for writers. 

Referrals and existing clients drove my business. And I learned to be okay with that. I have a plan (sort of) to do more marketing this year because those referrals can’t last forever. 

But I found that doing good work on time and being an effective communicator helped me retain clients and receive work from them every month. I’m in a very fortunate position to partner with people who need a writer regularly.  

Most people don’t understand freelancing 

I spent a lot of time trying out different ways to say what I do. Here are some examples: 

  • “Um, I’m a freelance copywriter” 

  • “I run a, uh, freelance writing business” 

  • “I”m, uh, a freelancer” 

Note the subtle shift in the “uhs and ums.” None are terrible, but most people don’t know what copywriting is and even fewer understand the term “freelance copywriter” when those words are strung together in a sentence.  

It’s not their fault and I’m not blaming them. Most people work for traditional employers and never collaborate with freelancers. 

I finally settled on “freelancer writer.” It’s simple enough. When I say that, there are typically follow-up questions about what that means, or the person draws their own conclusions and says, “that’s interesting,” without any questions. 

The “that’s interesting” crowd typically thinks freelancers don’t have “real” jobs (or don’t think it’s actually interesting). 

I think this will probably change if freelancing/independent contracting continues to gain momentum, but I’ve learned not to worry about it. It bothered me when people didn’t ask more about my work. I would get nervous when the obligatory “what do you do?” questions came up in first-time conversations. 

Now, I relish the moments when someone shows genuine interest. And I don’t get nervous talking about it anymore. They either get it or they don’t. They want to learn more, or they’re not interested. And there are far more people I actually care about who support me and are invested in my work. 

Freelancers are experts 

I had to be told this over and over (and over) again by other people. It’s not a conclusion I came to on my own. 

For some reason, the fact that clients paid me more than once for my work and asked for my input, didn’t qualify as “expertise” in my mind. 

But that’s probably something better left to a therapist to sort out. 

If you’re good enough at something to get paid for it repeatedly and do it for a while, you know more about it than most of the public. And whether or not you want to call yourself an expert is up to you. 

But you are knowledgeable enough to offer insights based on your experience. And they’re likely better than most of the thought leadership stuff you’ll read on LinkedIn or Medium. You’re qualified to speak on what it is you do. 

Again, someone had to tell me that, and I literally wrote it down in my notes and still look back on it when I don’t believe it. 

Relationships are the difference between a and good month and a great month 

Last spring, someone I interned for about ten years ago reached out asking if I could take on a project for his organization.  

I did it and it turned an average month into a really solid month (and produced some nice stats for my portfolio). 

In the final few months of the year, one of my original freelance clients asked if I’d like to write a series of blogs for them.  

While neither of these relationships produce massive monthly retainers, they hit at the right time. 

That blog series took 2022 from, “wow, this was a great year financially,” to “oh wow, I never expected this.” And for that, I’m thankful. I’m also happy January is kind of slow because the last two months of the year were tiring. 

Both connections, which I’d had for years, paid off. And that seems to happen more often than not in this business. 

The moral of this story is don’t give up on connections. Check-in occasionally just to be nice, not because you’re looking for work. People remember that stuff. And when they need help, don’t be surprised to see a message in your inbox. 

No action needed from you  

If you’ve made it this far, I hope you got something out of this. If it was just a laugh, that’s okay with me.  

Even if you didn’t, I had a lot of fun writing this for myself. There’s no newsletter for you to subscribe to (maybe one day). There are plenty of good ones out there (I’m not going to list them here). 

I think the takeaway from all of this is to not put so much pressure on yourself. There are tons of different opinions on freelancing and how to grow a business. Lots of them are really valuable. But if you start to focus on doing everything, you’ll start feeling overwhelmed quickly. 

So, don’t sweat it if you’re not posting on LinkedIn six days a week. Or that you’re not 10xing your business (whatever that means). Freelancing is hard. If you take a moment (I’m talking to myself here) to sit back and think about what you get to do, you’ll realize how much fun it is.