Every website I have ever built has been finished either quickly or slowly, and the difference has almost never been the design. It has been how long it took for the words and pictures to arrive.
I tell clients their site can be live within a week, and I mean it. The week starts when the content lands, not when we shake hands. So here is exactly what to gather, whoever you end up using.
The words
This is the part that holds everything up, so start here.
What you do, in a paragraph. Written as though you were telling a friend rather than filling in a form. If you find yourself writing “we pride ourselves on delivering quality solutions”, delete it and say what you actually do.
Who it is for. Be specific. “Anyone” is the least useful answer and it makes every page vaguer.
Your prices, or how pricing works. Even if it is “from £40” or “depends on the job”. Sites with no prices at all lose people, because the first thing everyone wants to know is whether they can afford you.
The six questions you are tired of answering. Genuinely, write down the six things people always ask on the phone. These become the most useful page on your site and they save you the calls.
Your actual details. Phone, email, the area you cover, your hours. Sounds obvious. It is missing or wrong on a great many websites.
The pictures
A photograph of you. Not a logo, you. People buy from a person, particularly if you are a sole trader or a practitioner. This one photograph does more work than any other image on the site, and the one most people supply is a holiday snap with somebody cropped out of it.
Get someone to take one in daylight, near a window or outdoors on an overcast day, looking at the camera. Five minutes on a decent phone beats a studio portrait from nine years ago.
Your work, if it shows. Trades, before and after. Therapists, your room. Food, the food. Real photographs of your real work beat stock images every time, even when the stock images are sharper.
Send the originals. Straight off the phone or camera, not resized, not sent through WhatsApp. WhatsApp shrinks pictures badly and there is no way to recover the quality afterwards.
The proof
Three testimonials with real names. Ask three people who were pleased with you. Nobody minds being asked. “J from Wiltshire” is worth very little, a full name and a town is worth a great deal.
Your qualifications and memberships. Whatever letters you are entitled to, whichever register you are on. If you are insured, say so. If you are DBS checked, definitely say so.
Anywhere you have been mentioned. Local paper, a trade magazine, anything.
The practical bits
Your domain name, if you have one. The login for wherever you bought it, not just the address. This is the single most common hold-up at the end of a build, because people bought it seven years ago and cannot remember where.
Any existing website logins. Even for the site you are replacing.
Your logo, as the original file. Whoever made it will have a proper version. A screenshot of your own logo is not usable at any size.
Social media accounts you actually use. Only the ones you keep going. A link to an account last touched in 2019 does you no favours.
What you do not need to do
Do not write it as though it is going on the website. Write it as notes, in a plain document, in whatever order it comes out. Getting it into shape is my job and I would rather have your words roughly than someone else’s polished.
Do not worry about the order of pages. Do not worry about the design. Do not go looking for stock photographs.
And do not wait until it is all perfect before sending it. Send what you have, tell me what is missing, and we will get on with the rest.
The honest reason this matters
A build that stalls for three months rarely restarts well. Enthusiasm goes, the half finished thing sits there, and by the time it is finished the person has stopped believing it will make any difference.
An afternoon spent gathering this lot is what separates a site that is live in a week from one that is live in the spring. It is the best afternoon you will spend on the whole project.
If you would rather talk it through before you start writing, ring me. Sometimes half an hour on the phone gets more out of people than a fortnight of them staring at a blank document.