30 Years & Dozens of Connections: What LinkedIn Can't Do For You

As I head to BrightonSEO next month, I've been reflecting on how much impact my work and conference people have had on my life.

I started my career as a digital marketer in 1996, working as a content developer for a small internet software company called Surplus Direct. I coordinated with our creative team to write content for our website, catalogs, emails, direct mail, and advertising. We were soon purchased by Egghead Software, which closed all 86 of its brick-and-mortar stores and moved the business online. That year, we built one of the first online auctions — the same year as eBay.

I had started caring about search before Google existed, back in the days of AltaVista and Ask Jeeves. Danny Sullivan, a journalist who saw the need coming, started a newsletter called Search Engine Watch. I read it, learned from it, and asked questions.

During my time at Egghead, I met John Mitchell. John didn't just help me advance my understanding of marketing (I had studied journalism) — he helped me advance how I thought about my career. When Egghead moved our offices to Portland, an hour from our home in Hood River, Oregon, I knew the commute wasn't sustainable. My kids were 7 and 8, and I needed to be closer to home. I asked John about working for myself. He wisely counseled me to find my first client and schedule the work so I could give notice and know where my next paycheck was coming from. He also helped me understand how to frame my work around a problem my potential client might have. In 1998, I landed GI Joe's, a sports retailer looking to move parts of its business online. I helped build three sports-related websites, managed the catalogs, and helped them capture more online revenue.

Glen Boyd, who had come from banking, recognized the need to analyze web behavior and went on to build what would become WebTrends. His work shaped how I thought about understanding people's behavior online — where we could answer questions, sell products, and drive revenue.

In 1999, I landed my first Fortune 500 client: Avery Dennison, a labels company beginning to expand its business to Avery.com. My first move was to interview their customer service representatives and find out where customers hit the most friction online. We moved the online template system from three clicks deep to directly on the homepage — reducing friction for consumers, growing revenue for the company, and proving a viable path for online business. I worked with that client for more than a decade, and it's where I found my best friend, Claudette John — a smart marketer fresh off her MBA at Loyola. I learned from her, spent time with her when I was on-site in California, and built a friendship that's lasted more than 25 years. We've been through weddings, visits to each other's hometowns, kids going off to college, job loss, the loss of a parent, vacations, and a million other moments I treasure.

In 2001, I attended my first Search Engine Strategies (SES) conference, a publishing and events company owned by Danny Sullivan and Chris Sherman. That company is responsible for some of my best education and connections.

In 2005, I met Robb Bell, owner of an award-winning winery. He'd previously been an executive at Procter & Gamble and had a knack for finding talented people — like Michael Sebastian, a third-generation winemaker. I watched, learned, and helped grow ecommerce for that small, flourishing wine business.

In 2007, I attended an event with SEMpdx (Search Engine Marketing Professionals of Portland). At their Hot Seat Site Review, Ben Lloyd and others on the panel helped me identify important issues with a print-and-mail-center site I was growing at Avery Dennison. I listened, learned, and joined what would become a career-defining group of people. I served on their Board of Directors and Advisory Board for 16 years. They weren't just incredible marketers and technologists — they were, and still are, dear friends and some of my favorite humans.

In 2008, I met Samantha & Jeff Irwin, who were renovating the small boutique Balch Hotel in Dufur, Oregon, and needed help with their web presence. They became clients, then friends, and eventually sold the hotel. Samantha now teaches Kaizen and customer service excellence and I often learn from her as an established brand of friendly excellence.

In 2008, after months of pitching to present at SES, I was on a flight to that year's conference in Chicago and sat next to a woman working just as intently as I was. We didn't talk much on the plane. When I got to the conference hall, I recognized her — Anne Kennedy — an advisor and presenter at the very event I was attending. I kicked myself for not being friendlier on the flight. I introduced myself, and she told me she was mourning the loss of her husband, Jerry, who had died exactly one year earlier. We stayed in touch. That friendship has given me an enormous amount of learning and joy. Anne is my mentor, friend, and occasional travel buddy.

That same year, I got my first speaking gig, in Santa Clara, and went on to speak at Danny and Chris's shows — first SES, then SMX and SMX Advanced. I also spoke alongside Marty Weintraub that year at SearchFest — 101 slides in 10 minutes, a feat Marty pulls off better than anyone and a move I would never attempt.

In 2009 and 2010, I met two of my favorite women in the industry: Dana Lookadoo and Casie Gillette. In 2011, I began interviewing people for a book called When Everybody Clicks: Sustainable Digital Marketing. I wanted to learn from my peers about building long-term relationships between agencies, consultants, and clients. Anne introduced me to Bill Hunt, who became my first — and one of my favorite — interviews.

In 2012, I met Rachel Heseltine, whom I also interviewed for the book, and whose friendship would go on to change my life. That year, I also presented with Mike King, Mark Traphegon, and Matt Siltala. Our Mad Men–themed talk is still one of my favorites. Mike, for those who know him, is a polymath — a great marketer, technologist, and storyteller (and, yes, also a rapper). We met at an SES conference in England in 2009, and I still learn from him today.

Later that year, with my kids grown, I moved from consulting into agency life at Rosetta, a Publicis agency. I wanted to expand my horizons within a larger organization, so I moved from Hood River — my home for 17 years — to Cleveland, Ohio. As Director of Paid, Owned, and Earned Media, I worked on and pitched business for Mars/M&M's, Justice, Consumer Reports, MSC, and Marriott. There, I met Joe Pulizzi, who had founded Content Marketing World and was growing both the event and the discipline of content strategy. I asked him to meet me for coffee — he had no idea who I was, but he said yes. That coffee started my education in how content marketing pairs with reporting and marketing skill. Content Marketing World is where I honed my craft and met the people driving the industry.

In 2014, back in Oregon, I mentioned to Rachel that I still had a crush on a Southern man I'd met in Hood River a decade earlier. She told me to ask him out. I said I don't ask men out — they ask me out. She said, "How's that working for you?" I'd been divorced for 18 years and had a failed engagement. She already knew the answer.

In 2015, I judged my first US Search Awards — work I loved for the next 10 years, learning firsthand what expertise and planning go into award-winning marketing campaigns. Meeting Nicki Wake, her team, and the judges and marketers they draw for the event exposed me to work I hadn't seen before.

That same year, I started my first in-house marketing role, at Oregon Health & Science University, as Associate Director of Digital Engagement, tasked with growing the digital marketing discipline at a large academic medical center. I worked with David Mihm — a friend I'd met through SEMpdx — on a large, high-impact project called PILS (Project to Inform Local Search), because healthcare loves acronyms. The work touched marketing, IT, a librarian and ontologist, healthcare leadership, and the Portland Bureau of Transportation, and it wrapped up with new street signs and updated address numbers across a campus established more than 100 years earlier. The campus's single address — 3181 SW Sam Jackson Parkway — needed to become individual, discrete addresses for both physical and digital wayfinding.

In 2016, as my team grew from 2 people to eventually 14, I met Michelle Brence and Jillian Cohan Martin. Wil Reynolds, a conference friend and vendor that also keep regularly learning from, had once shared that journalists make exceptional content strategists. Michelle was my second hire, and she brought in her friend and fellow journalist, Jillian, to work on the Knight Cancer Institute and other service line content. I learned so much from both of them about content integrity. They asked every question and dove into learning about the human body with the same intensity they'd once brought to investigative journalism. Their work was exceptional and respected — the content was discoverable, and our reach and resonance grew. It reached patients and frightened parents when they needed it most: honest, and hopeful, even when speaking to their worst fears.

In 2017, I met Amy Comeau Barrett, an executive leader at Emory Healthcare, who taught me how to better engage healthcare providers and grow service line business. Her approach is both practical and compassionate.

In 2020, we all went through COVID together. I watched Incident Command become the place where people had to make decisions no one should have to make — which surgeries to postpone, how frontline staff should engage with patients and families. I watched vaccination clinics, supported by the National Guard, stood up with military precision in record time. Meeting smart healthcare marketers the previous five years helped me get through that moment. We had similar challenges, fears, and ultimately leaned on each other to get through.

In 2021, I met Ben Texter, whose acumen as a digital strategist is world-class. He is also one of the kindest people you'll ever meet. He helped me get better at engaging executive leaders, and challenged me when that engagement was at risk because I sometimes lacked the skill to navigate the politics involved.

In 2023, I met Suzanne Henedry, a Chief Marketing Officer and an all-around brilliant person. She only knew me from healthcare internet conferences, but she mentored me through a difficult job loss. Her encouragement and wisdom carried me through a hard time, and she reminded me that everyone goes through job loss — there was even a group of people who convened for the sole purpose of helping each other through it.

In 2025, I attended SparkTogether, the conference for SparkToro, co-founded by Rand Fishkin and Amanda Natividad. There, I met Amber Naslund, Joe Acunzo, and Kirsty Hulse. SparkTogether has a different format: sessions can't be recorded, and they're meant to be honest, soul-searching, and sometimes painfully vulnerable. I started asking myself what might happen if I let myself be that transparent about my own strengths and weaknesses. It's not an exaggeration to say it changed my life. I started sharing more about the real cost of commitment to our work — the exhaustion, the wear, the ways it can leave us a little broken. I shared more about my diagnosis of agitated catatonia in early 2024, which began with a lack of sleep, stress from job loss, and a respiratory illness, and ended in a two-night stay in the ER.

This year, I started work with a 31-year-old private company that serves as a trusted third-party consultant for standard-setting organizations. Its members come from around the world, including some of the world's most respected companies — Google and Microsoft among them. Their work has touched more than a billion products. It's interesting, challenging work in a technology space that's new to me. It's like working for a three decades old start-up. I didn't get this job from LinkedIn, a job board, or an HR algorithm — it came as a recommendation from my friend Lindsay Adamson, who was a dear friend of my husband's and, over the years, has become a dear friend of mine too.

Lessons I've Learned

Make the ask. Joe Pulizzi is a big deal — I had no business reaching out to him out of the blue to ask for his time. But my new boss at the time, Jason Tabeling, had called him out as someone whose work I should know. I've since read all of Joe's books and learned so much from him and his conferences.

Listen to your friends. I did ask the Southerner out. He's now my husband. Thank you, Rachel.

You aren't just the job. I love our work. It's fun, inspiring, challenging, and a little crazy-making. Things change fast, and they demand love, discipline, and commitment. But you are the integrity, curiosity, and brilliance you bring to your work — you are not the work itself. It doesn't have to entirely define you.

The little things are sometimes the big things. My friend Ian Lurie — quite literally a professor — taught me so many things, not the least of which is consistency. A consistent drop of water on a rock, over and over, beats an inconsistent application of "best practices."

Do the scary thing. Pitching for SMX Advanced was terrifying. Those presentations kept me up at night. They're also some of my best work, because I got to present with, and to, really smart, thoughtful people.

Your conference friends will teach you life lessons. My friend Dana encouraged me when I told her about leaving my forever home in Oregon to travel for what my kids called my "working MBA." Dana also taught me about being present in loss. An avid biker, she had an accident that ultimately led to her death. She showed us how to be present in that moment, and how to turn our focus toward her husband, Ed. She showed us how to live with kindness and a generous spirit — and how to die with honesty, hope, and a focus on what really matters.

Talk about your struggles. An excellent therapist, and the love of my family and friends, means I can address my reality with my personal care team, and a professional one, when I need to.

Listen to your body. Your job today — whatever it is, or whatever you want it to be — can't be bigger than your self-care.

Reflect on your work. Identify the marketing wins and the human wins. I'm awestruck by the business and human impact this industry has made — and you have a part in that. Find your place by finding your people.

You belong in this room. You'll also get more room for yourself and your ideas when you give more room to your peers. The world would have you believe there's only a small amount of room for what you excel at. There's plenty of room, and there are plenty of rooms — find yours. Recognize that everything that resonates with you, in what you watch, listen to, and read from the people in this room, comes from curiosity, love, sharing, and a belief in abundance.

As I finish the next edition of my book, When Everybody Clicks, I'm reminded again of connection. Bruce Clay, a veteran SEO who taught and inspired marketers for decades, died this year. While searching for a quote from an old interview, I found one written by his teammate, Kristy Kellogg, who had once interviewed me for the first book. It referenced Jim Kukral — an inspiring marketer who recently left client work to start a boat touring company and is now finishing his own book, The Emerald Standard. He'd offered his network an early read as he finished it, and I jumped at the chance. I'd completely forgotten I was ever quoted in that old article. It's a small world.

This is more than a conference. Connections are all around you. It's where you might meet your best friends, your spouse, your biggest inspirations, and your best teachers.