The reason I’m asking for your questions is that I have two half-hour TV programs to produce before Christmas … and I just started on them last week. Much easier to clean out the Augean stables than produce a brace of shows in that amount of time! Which means for the next month I won’t have breathing space to think about posting new stuff to Seeing Your Story.
On the other hand, if you have a few questions about making better online videos, just ask them in the Comments section below. I’ll do my best to answer them when I have a moment. That may be helpful to you, and it’ll be easier for me than dreaming up new posts.
Last night, I registered for something called the Reinvention Summit. I gave them my Visa card number and they charged me just 11 dollars and 11 cents for the privilege. I’m not sure what life-changing benefits for me as a storyteller lie behind that lofty title, but for the price of a Kobe beef burger at my local diner, it’s not exactly risky business.
That’s why I wanted you to know about it. You can judge for yourself if it’ll be worthwhile for your needs as a maker of online videos.
The Reinvention Summit is the offspring of a team led by Michael Margolis, founder and president of Get Storied, an enterprise devoted to the storytelling needs of innovators, entrepreneurs and other folks. The Summit describes itself in these terms:
Reinvention is the new storyline. We believe narrative is a key to re-storying possibilities. That’s why we’re gathering a new tribe of storytellers: change-makers, marketers, creatives, innovators, and entrepreneurs — anyone who sees storytelling as fundamental to their work and mission. Help us re-frame the conversation.
There’s no need for me to go into detail about who the scheduled speakers are and the resources that will be available to you if you register. You can get all that, and lots more, from their website.
One urgent note, though: the $11. Early Bird registration ends November 10 at 8pm EDT.
I’ll leave you, for now, with a video in which Michael describes the Summit. You’re welcome to crit this vid on your own as an example of the art of online storytelling.
Yesterday afternoon, fleeing from the emails I desperately needed to write, I traded my MacBook Pro for a rake. I figured that an hour of piling up backyard leaves and bagging them would recharge me for the cyber tasks at hand.
That lead to a meditation about what I’ll call our Creative Covenant, our “contract” with the people who watch our online videos. Would you like to peek under the hood of my meditation? OK, here goes …
Soon after starting my chore, I thought: why don’t I grab my new blue iPod Shuffle and listen to “This American Life” or “Radiolab” while I work? I set down the rake and headed toward the house … and then stopped. I didn’t want any media intrusions. I didn’t want that autumn afternoon to be invaded by recorded words or music.
With my ears deliberately unwired, I heard my neighborhood’s audio track afresh. Not that there was anything glorious to hear: a distant leaf blower, a contractor’s Bobcat beeping in reverse, the sound of desiccated oak leaves scraping against each other. But buoyed on the rhythm of raking, I began daydreaming. Gradually, the reverie focused itself and I imagined writing a Seeing Your Story post about not wearing the iPod.
At first, I hadn’t the slightest idea about the point my post would make. But because my limited brainpower wasn’t focused on a podcast, I was able to sense that something was on my mind.
Enveloping myself in media would have stanched the musing, and I wouldn’t be writing this post now.
It’s taken a full day for the inchoate thought to become conscious. Only at lunch with my brother-in-law (thanks, Lawrence!) did it pop in a way I could articulate: Any media, from a magazine article to an mp3 song to an online video, narrows the angle of our awareness. I hadn’t realized it when I picked up the rake, but I didn’t want Ira Glass or Jad Abumrad, talented as they are, to colonize my mind.
But that’s exactly what we do when people click the Play button on our videos. They’re inviting us to take over billions (?) of circuits in their brains. In exchange for what? I think we owe them something. I believe we have an obligation to give them an experience with some value to it, be it garden-fresh information or wacky entertainment. I’ll call that tacit agreement our Creative Covenant.
Now that I’m aware of it, I suppose I have to sign on to it. You, too! So, don’t just upload videos. Upload good videos. However you define “good.”
That’s all I have to say on the subject, at least for the moment. Anyhow, I’ve had enough of writing for now. In fact, I’m ready to relax and have my mind colonized. I’m choosing to enter into a Creative Covenant with OK Go, a contract with a duration of only three minutes and thirty-six seconds. I invite you to join me by clicking on the Play button below.