The Art of the SERP
and the art of failure, too
Learning is a funny, complicated dance. Picking up new skills or ideas is usually pretty rewarding, but it’s not always an easy process. I’m not just referring to the material being difficult to understand, even though that can play a role. I’m also talking about the growing pains. The inevitable failure that comes with the deepest kind of learning (the kind that changes you, the kind you eventually internalize) can be hard on the soul. And meanwhile, you don’t just go from zero to perfect after you fail. You’ll probably fail again and again, as you slowly improve.
About a month ago, I started a new freelance writing role for a marketing agency. It isn’t a place I would normally apply—I don’t have a background in marketing nor do I particularly enjoy it. Or at least, I thought I didn’t. I applied though, because when I poked around the internet to find out more about the company, I liked what I saw. Their goal is to use content writing as a direct pathway to conversions (sales). Or to say it another way, to provide genuinely useful articles and blogs that directly help the client succeed (by making sales). I like the idea that my writing is helpful rather than just adding more junk to the internet.
Fast forward to a month into the job, present day. I am learning, and enjoying it alright. But my ego is taking some bricks along the way. I’ve felt like I’ve failed as a writer more than once.
Mostly what I’m learning has to do with SEO (search engine optimization) and marketing psychology.
When I start an article, the first thing I do (after researching the client extensively, partly from interviews we have with their CEO or employees) is gather information related to the keyword(s) I’m given. A keyword is a specific word or phrase people use when searching for information online. For example, if you wanted to find information about fun tourist activities in New York, that’s your keyword (fun tourist activities in New York). Then three billion search results come up.
Where I work, our job is to write articles that will come up on the first page of results (the first ten our of literally billions, yep). How do you do that? Well, there are some different ways, but the one I’m responsible for is writing something valuable that actually helps the person who searched for that keyword.
So the first thing I do is gather information related to the keyword. That involves a couple of things:
Reading and analyzing the top 10 results on the search engine results page (SERP) for that keyword
Tuning in to what the person who Googled that keyword wants (psychology)
For all of my articles up to this point, I went through the motions of this process, especially the first step, but didn’t fully understand what it was that I was (meant to be) doing. The process seemed to me more of a science, a technical process. I was collecting data and thinking in a pretty basic way about the Googler and what they were looking for.
I’m now realizing that this analysis is an art. I’m collecting and interpreting data and using it to tell a story. The idea is to use that story to form the article I write, both in terms of content and structure.
I’ve never done this before, so naturally, my ability to analyze the data and transform it into the right story is subpar. It’s obvious when I look at the ways the content strategist edits my work. I see the story I told and the story he’s changed it to and it’s immediately clear that his version is better. And that I was incapable of coming up with it on my own. Ouch.
My content strategist has been a lighthouse for me, amidst the inevitable ego blows as I realize my storytelling failures. But he told me it’s normal to start off this way and that his first few months with the company were rough. Also, he’s been taking the time to give me helpful and constructive feedback so that I both get better and don’t get discouraged.
It takes time (and, for me, usually tears) to get better at a new skill. I want to excel at this, so I know I will eventually. In the meantime, these are the growing pains that come with the process of learning. Some days, I see the edits and feel really low; it’s hard not to take this shit personally. With some effort though, I’m embracing this, all of it. I’m swimming in it, I’m grateful for the transformation.
You know what helps? I feel an alignment between this work and me, which is unexpected. It strikes me as a little serendipitous, like something I didn’t realize I was looking for fell right into my lap.
I am a profoundly analytical person. Sometimes it’s hard to keep myself from analyzing—my feelings, situations in my life or the lives of those I’m close to, capitalism, feminism, books, movies, podcasts, philosophies, random passing thoughts, you name it. And now I’ve realized that this job is going to require open-minded, outside-of-the-box, creative analysis. This excites me. This is great news.
A tidbit of magic always makes things better.