Four content tips to better serve your weary audience

Laptop sitting on desk next to motivation quote
Photo by Arnel Hasanovic on Unsplash

I’m not shaming you for wearing jogging pants right now. Frequently. Sometimes with a button-up business shirt to attend that work-from-home business call. I get it — we all needed those soft, forgiving pants for emotional support in 2020.

While I fully applaud jogging pants self-care, your 2021 marketing content should be dressed better. As other aspects of your business have likely changed over the past year, so too should your business communications.

With the world largely at home and highly captive online, try these top four 2021 content writing tips to better serve your post-COVID audience.

Don’t Feed the Funk

The pandemic funk…

Recalibration is heavy work. Lighter, at least, if we share the load.

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Photo by Kylli Kittus on Unsplash

If my brain was a nice, smooth pear before 2020, I think it might be more like one of those weird, prickly jackfruits now. My previous pear-like brain matter — smooth, uniform, pleasantly familiar, replaced with something more foreign and lumpy at best. Withdrawn, behind a coarse protective shell.

Would this be a weird conversation starter in a grocery produce section? With a total stranger? At an unusual time? Because based on my recent behaviour, it’s something I’m likely to actually do. …

We’ll survive this wild ride somehow

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Photo by Daniel Cano on Unsplash

When I was first learning to ride horses, I was taught about their incredible intuition. Their secret sense for human emotion. How easily they acknowledge and respond to calmness or fear, despite whatever mask a rider may try to present to them.

Flying through the air and skidding across the ground, I found this to be quite true. Thrown from a spirited galloping horse, on a trail way outside my skill level, on a beautiful summer evening where I pretended to be more confident and experienced than I was — I found myself bruised, bleeding and humbled.

By a horse…

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Photo by Kinga Cichewicz on Unsplash

What used to be my home office is now a classroom. A summer camp craft space. Also, a dance studio. A general junk repository. A place to drink wine and lie down on the soft carpet and do snow angels in pajama pants on wild Friday nights.

Where once I ran a proud small business from a neatly appointed home workspace, enjoyed, more or less, a sense of direction in life, earned income and exercised my brain in an adult kind of way — I currently have no idea what I’m doing.

When I set my life and business goals…

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Photo by Brooke Lark on Unsplash

Today we made a Mustikkapiirakka, a traditional Finnish blueberry pie.

Just one mom, one boy, one girl and one slightly higher-than-our-skill-level recipe. Fumbling and baking our way through another week of home isolation.

If the world insists on continuing to be an unfamiliar, uncertain and kind of scary place, then we must also humbly insist — there should at least be pie.

Shelving our daily schoolwork in favour of baking our feelings, we set to work measuring ingredients, greasing pans and licking spoons.

We lamented the eggs we could not get this week and brainstormed how to make do without.

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Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

It doesn’t really help to think of an IUD as an octopus. The very real physical discomfort of the IUD itself does not need a disturbing mental picture to make it worse. But it’s too late. I have already imagined mine as an evil soft plastic hormone-spewing sea creature that has painfully invaded my cervix.

I’ve also been warned of the perimenopausal tidal wave of hormones I can expect to battle in coming years. I mean — the last thing I wanted was to add any more hormonal fuel to that fire at the age of 40. …

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Photo by Dragos Gontariu on Unsplash

Weary parent, struggling child, I see you. The fatigue in me recognizes the fatigue in you at the close of another tough school year. For your family and mine, the journey through the school system is something to be survived.

You are the non-neurotypical family. You are the Growth Plan. The In School Team Meeting. The IEP. The Principal’s office. You are the notes home. The missed work. The diagnostic referral and the label.

You are so many things you never expected to be until your child was the square peg to the round hole.

I see you, weary ones…

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“Where is your mommy?” I asked, kneeling down to his level, trying my best to be convincingly ‘safe’ in my face, my distance and my voice. Three years old, maybe halfway to four, his toddler tummy and height gave away his vulnerability against the vehicles radiating midday summer heat. He offered no response but a shuffling of feet, a quiet gaze toward the amusement park cries at our backs. I did not know this child, but I knew this nightmare. One of many unwelcome fears nestled in against my joy, ever-present in motherhood.

“What is your name?” I tried again…

Kimberly MacGillivray

Freelance writer and decent human being. “With enough sleep and wine, she is a lovely person’’ — Her family. / @kimberlymacgcreative

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