Long-Form Content For Affiliate Marketing 1


What’s Long-Form Content?

Think of long-form content as any form of writing exceeding 1000 words whose purpose is to examine a given topic at some length. The style may range from informal to formal but the intention always remains the same: to inform, to educate, to engage an audience. It can also be called an analytical form of writing in which the writer presents a problem and its possible solutions — how to increase conversions, for example. This is precisely what provides value for the reader. Value is also one of the several criteria which a search engine such as Google uses to rank the content. Adding value, therefore, is one of the primary objectives of affiliate marketing.

In the digital age written content competes for discoverability — highly ranked content rises up, as poorly ranked content sinks to oblivion. For example, when someone types “Affiliate Marketing” in their browser, its the first 5-6 results on page 1 — this is what readers see. Of course there are p 2, p 3, p 4 . . . results too. But who really looks there? Imagine what would happen if someone’s content ranked on p 83 — at the bottom.

Therefore, long-form is content is only valuable if the content is good — the emphasis in long-form content is not on the “long” but rather on the content, or, the quality thereof.

What Does Good Content Mean?

Good content, first, comes down to good writing — what does that mean?

As someone once said, “I can’t define what good writing is. But I can sure as hell tell when something is poorly written.”

This quandary sets out the very nature of writing — which is always retrospective. That is, only after executing a piece of writing can you start to assess its effectiveness. There is no such thing as anticipating all its pitfalls at once before the writing has been executed. Although of course accomplished writers are those who can anticipate their reader’s reaction up to a certain degree but never completely. Also, it needs to be borne in mind that accomplished writers are also accomplished editors. There is, therefore, no such thing as good writing without good editing.

So, given the retrospective nature of the problem of writing, can we even hope to learn writing effectively? . . .

Yes, We Can

There are three main aspects of writing that I wish to elaborate on here: first, its inherent retrospectiveness; second, the deluge of writing instruction ; third, the generic nature of writing instructions.

First, . . .

The retrospectiveness of writing is actually an opportunity — to experiment and learn from it continuously. This doing-as-learning — what is also called the heuristic or the experimental process — is an intrinsic part of the problem that I was alluding to earlier about how good writing is immediately recognisable but hard to define in advance. The retrospectiveness of writing is therefore a good problem to have.

Second, . . .

The level of writing instruction available (online, off-line; print form; digital form) is indeed staggering. The question, therefore, isn’t finding advice on ‘good’ (I prefer, “effective”) writing; but rather on what to do with this deluge of instruction.

Let me tell you something. Platforms which sell these services/products are primarily interested in selling these to you. And, I have no problem with that. In fact, I appreciate that they are there.

However, what is missing, conspicuously, from their enterprise is a fundamental truth: how are you going to approach the problem of learning? This comes down to the learner, their motivations, abilities and so forth.

Let me give you an analogy. Buying an expensive car doesn’t in itself make one a good driver. That latter issue is a different problem altogether. We still need to engage with the experience of driving — repeatedly — in order to lift our game. Good drivers can anticipate the moves of other drivers at the intersection. In fact, being a good driver is an act of forever-becoming-by-doing — an example of the heuristic process.

Our chances of learning to be effective writers from instructions alone are about as high as learning to drive a car or ride a bike or perform brain surgery. Performing brain surgery in particular makes a good case for what we call practice — also another name for the heuristic process. A doctor doesn’t learn to carry out their profession by simply reading the Grey’s Anatomy — that iconic medical text. Without actual practice there is no medical profession. There is a reason why they call it,”the doctor’s practice/surgery/clinic” — that official designation of a doctor’s place of work.

Third, . . .

Writing instruction can only be generic. Let me give you an example. “Form effective English sentences using the SVO (Subject;-Verb-Object) structure.” While that statement is broadly true, many sentences in English don’t take this form but are still recognised as sentences: “He weeps,” for example. In this case, there’s no object.

When we say “Oh,” in response to someone else’s statement, “Milk isn’t delivered to this address,” is that a sentence? But we understand what they mean. The problem arises in the first place because we don’t have a consensus on what is a sentence.

Thus the generic nature of writing instruction — and, in keeping with the inherently generic nature of instruction itself — it cannot be expected to cover every situation. The dilemma is this: beyond a certain instruction becomes execution. This level is accessible only to the writer and the writing task they are trying to complete.

So, it’s a fallacy . . . to imagine (as some may) that writing instructions can cover every thing. We need to temper our expectations of what writing instructions can do for us as writers.

Writers can only learn to write by writing often, repeatedly, and without being overly critical of themselves.

One’s chances of becoming an effective writer are far higher with this approach than with relying solely or predominantly on traditional writing instruction — which is ultimately grounded in (or, held captive by) grammar and stylistics. However, that should not be taken to mean that I am advocating a complete rejection of grammar and stylistics. Rather, I am trying to demonstrate . . .

The Limitations Of Traditional Writing Instruction

Let’s take the following statement as an example of writing instruction:

“The SVO (Subject-Verb-Object) structure is the best way of forming good sentences in English.”

While that may be true broadly as a statement, many sentences in English don’t take this form but are still recognised as sentences: “He weeps,” for example. Notice, this sentence doesn’t have an object (the receiver of the action).

What about this one — when someone says “Oh,” in response to someone else’s statement which might be, “Milk isn’t delivered to this address.” Is that a sentence? But we still understand what they mean by “Oh.”

As you can see, we are now moving inevitably from the question of rigid structure to one of meaning and communication.

My point is this: grammar doesn’t solve all the problems . . . of meaning or communication. For that we need something else: context — which encompasses situation, occasion, setting.

The only way we can learn meaning/ communication is through context not always immediately available from a knowledge of grammar or style.

Grammar still has its value but not in this (shall we say?) context.

So, the next question is . . .

How Can We Learn Context?

Actually, this is what writers do all the time: they imagine that they are addressing someone — the absent interlocutor — situated in a particular situation (may be an eager learner sitting at their laptop hoping to gain knowledge). Every act of writing is an imaginative act — and, in that sense, all writing is creative, even the writing of a grocery list in which the writer imagines addressing themselves in some future.

I find this the most fascinating aspect of writing, which can be articulated in the form of a question . . .

Who Am I Writing For?

Awareness of audience — which also entails situation or occasion — is intrinsic to writing. Another way of putting this question might be: Is your writing audience-aware? The fundamental questions implicit in any writing are: who? what? where? when? how?

Those are also the questions in journalism — proving my earlier point that the form of writing we are aiming at in affiliate marketing is a combination of journalism and advertising copy. Why is this important to know? Because this form of conceptualisation allows us to define the task with greater clarity. The challenge of any task is defining it — and this couldn’t be truer for writing.

Let me update these principles in even more contemporary terms, making it specific to affiliate marketing: In affiliate marketing we are writing for a demographic (a particular section of the population).

So, now the question becomes: Is your writing demographic-sensitive?

Now Let’s Get Even More Nuanced

Demographic —

  • age
  • gender
  • education location
  • employment

Use this technique to construct your audience imaginatively, to give it specificity, to make it concrete, so that further down the road you can test the effectiveness of your posts.

The question then boils down to this in the end: If, you were writing for, say, an audience of female college educated professionals . . .

How’d You Put It?

“Hey sisters . . . ” would you address them like that? Or, like this: “Hello ladies . . . “?

Neither of these would be acceptable in my opinion, especially since a perfectly gender neutral option is already available (provided of course the product or service is also not gender specific.)

Let’s imagine for this exercise the service/product is professional development –“Every professional needs professional development. This is where BrandX can come in handy by providing highly individualised programs for you” . . . something along those lines — that’s what I might do. Why? Because, apart from being gender neutral, the claim the statement makes (“BrandX can come in handy by providing highly individualised programs for you“), is also a reasonable claim. Who can argue against that? Which professional doesn’t wan’t career advancement?

Upshot

Writing instruction is meaningful only when such issues — the ‘thicker’ assessments — are taken into account. However, traditional writing instruction isn’t designed for this. More on this in the next post.

Cheers.

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