Hi, all.

Yesterday I went to a memorial service for a beautiful young friend who died much too soon.

Last weekend I was at another service—for my aunt, my father's last sibling.

In between, the usual stuff. Which felt harder than usual.

All that to say: it’s been a brutal few weeks for me and people I love. Even the brighter moments have felt shadowed.

I’m at once flooded and emptied out. This morning, staring at this page, I literally don’t know where to begin.

Sometimes all we can do is keeping moving. One foot. Next foot.

Usually the voices in my head are not in sync. Like today I’d expect my Inner Mom to be telling me to not worry about writing to you this week. Chill. Shut off for a while. Sit on the couch. We need a break.

And I’d expect my Inner Corrections Officer to tell me to shut up already and get my arse in gear and start writing.

Yet weirdly this morning, Inner Mom and Inner Corrections Officer seem to have had a conversation when I wasn’t in the room… And they agree:

Yet here I am. Writing to you. Right on time.

Which made me realize something important.

I talk a lot about the need to put your reader first. To serve an audience. To make something that you love in service to those who will miss you if you don't show up on time.

This isn’t an original idea: Lorne Michaels used to say that Saturday Night Live didn’t go on because the cast was ready; it went on because it was 11:30 on a Saturday night.

You show up because you promised others you would.

How many of us try to not break promises to others? We deliver projects on time to our clients or colleagues; we don’t want to disappoint our children or our parents; we show up when we tell our husband or wives we will.

But too often we don’t think twice about breaking a promise to ourselves: We’re too overwhelmed right now. Eh. Doesn't matter. I’ll do it later.

But shouldn’t we also promise to keep the promises we make to ourselves?

My friend Corey told me this week in San Francisco that she tried to kick her daily Diet Coke habit for years. But it didn’t really stick until she promised herself she’d never touch the stuff again. That's when 30 days stretched into 60 days and now into 90.

My Inner Corrections Officer nods and says that I’m talking about Discipline. But wow that word is punitive. I hate it.

Maybe instead I’m just talking about something so basic and elemental that many of us often forget it.

Years ago, I heard Darren Rowse of Problogger speak in Denver. He told the audience, “Your next big thing might be the little thing that’s staring you right in the face right now.”

Of course, for that little thing to grow into a big thing, you’ve got to make a promise to yourself to do it.

So many people I’ve met this fall have shared their big goals with me. They want to write a book. Or they want to be invited to speak more. Or they want to make an impact in one important way or another. But I don’t know where to start. Or how do I fit it in?

The truth is that it’s hard. But it’s not magic.

You have to show up. And then you have to start. Then keep going. One foot. Next foot.

What’s the promise you need to make to yourself?

Because some weeks that’s the only thing that’ll get you through.

* * *

Here are six things I thought worth sharing this week:

Email is not just alive and well—it’s the backbone of content marketing. I spoke about this in Cleveland a few weeks ago.

If you were there—holla!

If you weren’t there, here’s why I believe this to be true:

With social and other digital channels—Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, paid search, organic search—someone or something else decides who sees your content and when and where they see it.

Email? It’s you and me calling the shots, babe.

What’s more:

So, before you ditch or dismiss email, consider how an authentic, useful, personal letter is actually a huge opportunity (that most marketers are totally neglecting).

Sometimes, old-school is the best school.

My friend Paul Roetzer at PR 20/20 gave some key highlights of my talk (and other key moments at Content Marketing World).

Speaking of old-school, this tiny in-demand restaurant in Maine ignores OpenTable and takes reservations only by postcard.

Did you catch that? By. Postcard. This past season, The Lost Kitchen in Freedom, Maine, got 20,000 of them.

Only a name and address were required. But would-be diners went way further, creating tiny sketches, minuscule watercolors, writing heartfelt notes about the need for the comforting Lost Kitchen experience during a difficult time, sharing stories of triumph and heartache, writes the Washington Post.

“I wasn’t trying to be cool… I was just trying to survive,” said chef-owner Erin French. She wanted to create a system to deal with reservation requests that vibes more with her restaurant. (And, if you ask me, that vibes with the entire state of Maine.)

What I love from a marketing perspective is how much this operational story has literally become her marketing. And I also love how the postcards become ongoing customer research: Erin reads the postcards every day to see who is coming in to eat that evening.

See the whole story here.

Google Dataset Search: Google has launched a new search engine to help scientists, journalists, and the more data-centric content marketers among us find the datasets they need. Because data is everywhere. But finding it can be a pain in the 🍑.

Conscious Style Guide: The latest observations, opinions, and style guides on conscious language—all in one place. Conscious language = respectful, empowering, inclusive, and kind language. (We need more of all that.)

Why is LinkedIn letting SlideShare… uh, slide? I don’t get it, either. At MarketingProfs, Mathew Sweezey details how it’s dying… and suggests a few platforms to fill its big shoes in RIP, SlideShare: It was good while it lasted.

Here's a new step I've added to my writing process: Before I publish anything, I’ve started to read it out loud. And not just whispering it to myself—Fully. Out. Loud. Like I'm speaking from a stage.

Why: It's helping me more immediately switch from writer to reader. And it helps me see those spots where I'm potentially tripping a reader up, or not being as clear as I might be.

Simple? Yes. Effective? Yes, too.

You might be tempted to make this more complicated: Record it and play it back? If you want. But you don't need to. Seriously. Old-school is the best school, remember?

Why do we say OK? It turns out that OK started its life as an inside joke among Boston intellectuals—kind of like the eggplant emoji.

Then Martin Van Buren's presidential campaign popularized it. Later, telegram-senders (who paid by the character) decided they liked its economy. And—best of all—Marketing eventually got involved. (We always do.)

I love sharing a good language or marketing story. This one has both.

📅 Your Date Here: Book me to speak. Now booking 2019 dates.

📅 September 25-26: Brand Manage Camp, Las Vegas

📅 October 3-4: Digital Summit Charlotte

📅 October 9: PRSA International, Austin, TX

📅 October 10: Content Jam, Chicago

📅 November 5-7: Healthcare Internet Conference, Scottsdale