The VEEP Framework: My Personal Gut Check for Better Content

If you’re someone who creates content regularly—whether it’s for LinkedIn, your newsletter, YouTube, or even client work—you’ve probably had those moments where your stuff just isn’t hitting. You can’t put your finger on why… but the response is flat, and the energy isn’t there.

When that happens, this is the framework I’ve created to gut-check my work.

It’s something I call VEEP. Four core pillars I believe every piece of content should touch in some way:

This isn’t a scientific formula. There’s no perfect balance you have to hit. But over time, I’ve found that when I’m stuck—or when something feels a little too bland or too safe—checking in on these four elements helps me figure out what’s missing and how to push it further.

The secret I think is to be both more and less precious about the work you’re putting out. I realize that is an oxymoron.

Let’s take this post from Great Isenberg as an example:

This post by Greg is a perfect encapsulation of everything I mean when I talk about the Veep framework. It feels like so uniquely him. You can tell that a lot of effort was put into this post to simplify and distill this idea into an easy-to-understand graphic. There's a ton of value in understanding how you can use your skills and assets as an audience and turn them into optionality. It's packed with his voice and personality and gets me fired up from reading it.

All that to say is that the results show how successful it was in terms of the engagement and reposts.

Honestly, if you just focused on this one, you’d be ahead of 90% of people.

Value is the most important lever in content—full stop. And by value, I mean: Are you actually helping someone?

Can you solve a pain point? Can you simplify something confusing? Can you teach someone how to do something better?

I think too many people approach content with the mindset of:

“I want to be funny. I want to be impressive. I want people to think I’m smart.”

But I really believe in leading from a more humble place:

And that mindset shift makes a huge difference.

Take someone like Justin Welsh. His entire strategy has been built around giving value consistently. Over time, that earns trust. That builds an audience. That creates momentum. And then—sure, you can sell. But if the first touchpoint someone has with your content is a sales pitch? People have a sixth sense for that. It’s a turnoff.

So if your content isn’t landing, this is the first question I’d ask:

Not to be too meta about writing about my own writing, but this article is an example of how I'm trying to add value to people by sharing specific prompts and ideas that can help them solve a very specific pain point - creating content that's not really achieving the goals that they want to.

This one’s tricky, because it’s not as easily defined or measured. But it’s felt.

You can’t always tell how long something took to create. Some people are faster than others. Sometimes a really strong post comes together in 10 minutes, and other times you work on something for two hours and it still feels off.

But I think there’s an internal bar we can hold ourselves to—like, Did I actually try here?Or did I just phone it in?

Especially now, with AI tools everywhere, it’s easier than ever to generate a decent-enough post.

You can ask ChatGPT for five LinkedIn hooks and stitch something together in five minutes. But the truth is, most of the time, that kind of content feels like… fluff. (Just kidding, you think I’d let that AI-trigger word past me?!)

It’s not bad. But it’s not great either.

It’s forgettable.

What stops the scroll for me—whether it’s on LinkedIn or YouTube or in a newsletter—is when I can feel the effort. The thoughtfulness. The polish. The care.

That might show up in different ways:

It doesn’t have to be perfect. But I do think it should reflect a little respect for your audience and for your own craft.

To reflect how this post measures up to effort, I'd say that some of these ideas are ones that I've spent months stewing on, writing, and reflecting. It's not something I just whipped up overnight.

So again, you can't necessarily know that from the outset, but I know that I have really put a lot of thought into creating something that feels original.

This is the part where you bring your lived experience, your insight, your worldview into the content.

It’s one thing to re-share an idea you heard on a podcast. It’s another to connect that idea to something you’ve seen in your own work or to frame it through your own lens.

That’s what makes content feel original and credible.

And honestly it’s what makes it interesting.

We’ve all spent the past few years navigating things like Google’s E-E-A-T guidelines—so we’ve been nudged toward showcasing our expertise anyway. But even outside of SEO, I think this is where a lot of the best content shines.

It’s not just about having authority in a niche. It’s about bringing something to the table that only you could say in that way.

And I think that’s especially important in a world of AI-generated everything. Because the one thing AI can’t fake—at least not convincingly—is your exact experience. Your timeline. Your perspective. The weird, specific job you had. The client disaster that taught you a valuable lesson.

When I’m writing, I ask:

The more I do that, the less replaceable my content feels. And the more trust I build with my audience.

This is something that I really try to do a lot when I'm working with some of my tech clients like HubSpot and beehiiv because I’ve found that adding expertise and our own unique experience is so valuable for like blog content.

I try really hard to share my experience of running a newsletter and my experience working with social media and all of that to pull the curtain back and show my process.

And finally—personality.

This might be the hardest one to really nail, especially if you come from a corporate or traditional background (hi, yes, that’s me). It takes time to unlearn the idea that “professional” means buttoned-up and bland.

But here’s the truth: The people we love following online sound like themselves.

Their content has rhythm. Tone. Weird little phrases. Humor. Spicy takes. Vulnerability.

It just has to feel human.

This is the piece I often push my clients on the most. If I’m editing something and it feels too sterile, I’ll say:

Because that’s what people connect to, and that’s what makes content sticky.

That’s also what makes it fun. And what are we even doing here if not having a bit of fun?

If you’re creating content regularly and want a simple way to improve it, here’s the checklist I use:

You don’t have to nail all four every time. But when your content hits most of these pillars, it’s going to resonate more, stand out more, and connect more deeply with the people you actually want to reach.