PR people: Here’s how to gain publicity for your event without making me want to drink vodka at 10 in the morning

Some of my best friends are PR people. My husband works in corporate communications and as a couple, some of our closest pals are PR professionals and their husbands (and a few dual-PR households).

Despite my cold, dark journalist’s heart, I care deeply about community events that raise funds and awareness for worthy causes and I respect those whose jobs are to promote them. If I could contribute to every charity gala I hear about I would, only then I’d have to hold one for myself because I’d be bankrupt and homeless.

I truly believe that most PR folks are kind, decent, intelligent, hardworking individuals who want the best for their clients and humanity in general.

But some of you people make me want to drink vodka at 10 in the morning. Stop it.

About 7 million people read my blog last year. I’m looking to hit 8 million this year. If you have a plan to broadcast your message to a bigger crowd, go for it and leave me out of it. If you would like me to surface your content to my audience, follow these guidelines precisely:

1. Do not call me. Ever. For any reason. Ever. Is that unclear?
2. If you send me a pitch and I don’t respond, it’s because it’s not a fit for my readers. I serve my audience like a liveried waiter serves his charges, and if history (and metrics) illustrate that your pitch doesn’t meet their needs, I’m moving on. You should too. DO NOT call me to follow up to see if I got your email. Refer to Guideline #1 if you’re confused.
3. Send me a quick, concise message in the body of an email. Do not send attachments. Do not send a spreadsheet. Crack me over the skull with your pitch. Your email and my eyeballs have about 3 torrid seconds together before I decide to commit or move on. There are 4 million messages waiting right after yours. Make your 3 seconds count.
4. Include all details. Do not send me an invitation to a “surprise” announcement. Do not send an event pitch without including time, date, location and price information. That sounds simple. Alas, it’s not.
5. If you send a pitch billing Celebrity/Sports Star/CEO X, make that person available or immediately tell me you can’t. Don’t lure me to your event, then tell me belatedly that Celebrity/Sports Star/CEO X is not available after all but would I like a sit-down with your corporate sponsor?
6. If I come to your event, leave me alone and let me do my job. Do not interrupt me every 3 seconds. Don’t hand me a press kit. The Internet is there for a reason. Embrace it.
7. I do not need anything from you besides information. I don’t need a free dinner at the new restaurant you’re pitching. I don’t want free stuff from the new boutique whose opening you are promoting. Don’t send swag to the newsroom. Just send timely, useful information. The PR person for some new steak restaurant literally just mailed me a knife. To the newsroom. Does that sound like a good idea?
8. If you’re the longtime publicist for Person or Brand X, you need to do your job in good times and bad. If Person X gets indicted or Brand X is being investigated for alleged malfeasance, respond to my query as quickly as if you were promoting cheery news. I understand, you don’t have subpoena power and your guy might not feel like talking if there’s trouble brewing. Just shoot straight and tell me so (even if it’s off the record). Don’t ignore me and then three months later think you can bait me with some cute photo opp.
9. Don’t pitch me and every one of my colleagues at the same time. If I do write about your event or run an interview with your guy, there is exactly one response you should send: “Thank you.” Of course if there is any error or update, let me know so I can correct it immediately. But don’t ask if I can include a comment from your event’s sponsor, or run a cute photo of your client’s dogs, or ask if we can schedule a follow-up interview for further publicity. We’re done here. Move on.
10. Don’t call me. Ever. For any reason. Ever. Ever. Ever.