Pride Of Authorship

I write a lot of ads.

Some of them aren't ads as most people think of such things. They're direct mail pieces, or emails, or web banners, or web pages, or infographics, or articles (aka content), or brochures, or something else that isn't popping to mind.

I treat each one as crucial.

I take care to craft copy that makes sense, fits the "brand voice" and flows in a way that should interrupt, inform and induce action with the audience.

I am careful with the construction of the words, the flow of the thoughts and the point I'm trying to make.

I am not, however, the sort of copywriter who treats his work as inviolate.

If there are suggestions to improve it, make them. They might be better than what I had written.

What you shouldn't do is rewrite my work and pass it off as mine.

If you rewrite it, own it.

Then deal with the consequences of crappy copy.

Monday Malaise

I forgot.

I forgot how simple it is (when there's nothing catastrophic happening) to choose to be happy. 

I allowed something small and annoying become something huge that fed into some weird sense of anger.

It's not that I was angry for a reason. Or angry with someone in particular. I just allowed myself to be angry. 

At everyone.

For everything.

Stupid of me.

I'm fed. I'm clothed. I have shelter. No one I love is immediate danger or facing some incurable illness.

In short, I chose to not be happy. For no reason. Just because I could. 

What a waste of a beautiful day.

Yes, People Read. They Even Read Ads.

As a copywriter who cares about craft and nuance and style, I'm peeved every day.

Or every work day at least.

"There's so many words."

"Let's make it shorter."

"No one reads copy."

Yes. I get it. You're super busy and simply glanced at it. In a meeting room. With zero sense of context.

It wasn't a direct mail piece waiting in your box.

It wasn't a brochure sitting on a counter at the bank.

It wasn't a headline you stumbled across in your facebook feed.

It was a piece of paper.

Handed to you.

To which you are obligated to respond, because that's how you get paid.

So you glanced at it and gave a canned answer.

That doesn't mean "people don't read copy."

It means you can't be bothered to you.

I take care to make sure that what I write is both well crafted, and meets the business objective.

It's what I've done for 20-something years.

So take that moment when you're formulating your canned response to tell me no one reads, to actually read it.

Then we can have a conversation about the actual work. Not some learned fear of long pieces of prose that was developed as a result of reading too many Russian novels.

My Boss Is 10 Years Old

Yes. Literally. At least for a little while longer. She is almost 11.

No, she isn't my supervisor, or my supervisor's supervisor.

She can't sign my expense report.

She can't approve my vacation days.

She doesn't participate in a 360 review of my work.

She isn't the one signing my paycheck.

She's still the boss.

Why? The work I do is for her.

The work I do pays for food, shelter, clothes and the other necessities. It funds her extra-curricular activities and spur-of-the-moment froyo cravings. It buys her books, and blocks, and soccer balls.

The work I do gives me a chance to be a chauffeur, wanna-be coach, enthusiastic cook, organic gardener, chess partner, and many other things.

There is, however, an inescapable fact: The people to whom I'm accountable from 9 to 5 aren't the ones that really matter at the end of the day.

My job is to provide advertising ideas to my supervisors in exchange for money.

My real boss couldn't care less what I'm paid to do.

And I'm completely comfortable with that.

A Sharp Knife And A Sturdy Pan

Kitchen gadgets come in an endless variety. So many of them appear to have a singular purpose.

Empanada maker. Salad spinner. Spiralizer. Avocado slicer. Watermelon slicer. Tomato slicer. Apple corer.

The list goes on and on and on.

Yet when you begin to cook your own food, read recipes or pick up a book about the craft of cooking, there are invariably just two tools you must have (in addition to a stove/oven)—a sharp knife and a sturdy pan.

That's it. Two items can help you prepare the vast majority of food you'll consume.

Your ability to use those items to create something delicious then relies on the ingredients you use, your skill with them which is often based on experience and practice, and your imagination.

You do know you don't have to stick to a recipe word for word, right? Unless you're baking, and that's when the chemistry involved is more precise.

Advertising is the same.

You need art.

You need copy.

You need attention to craft and the ability to generate mountains of ideas.

Banner ads. Billboards. Brochures. Content marketing stories. Long form print. Online video. Radio. Short form print. Social media ads or posts. TV. Websites. White papers.

The specific medium doesn't matter. If you're a copywriter, you can write ads in any format. If you're an art director, you can design in any format.

The fundamentals don't change.

Only the way the "experts" pitch them to clients and make hiring decisions change.

New Rules Of Work. Same As It Ever Was.

The new rules of work are the same as the old rules.

Show up on time.

Do your best possible work.

Learn something new.

Teach something new.

Be kind, courteous and respectful to everyone with whom you work.

Go home and be with people you love.

Advertising's Golden Age Lies Ahead

Innovate. Disrupt. Pivot.

These are more than the latest business buzzwords.

These are the children of creativity. To bring the results to life, they must be communicated in a compelling way. The golden age of advertising lies ahead of us, not behind us.

To bring forth a Renaissance after the current dark age, we must interrupt, inform and induce action more compellingly than ever.

We must be tenacious and creatively courageous.

We must see opportunity in even the most basic flyer or postcard or email subject line.

We must care about craft.

In essence, we must love what we create.

Availability Is The Most Important Ability

In an increasingly digital world, more and more people work remotely.

I think it's wonderful that we can work from anywhere. I firmly believe, however, that being in the same location as colleagues changes everything.

When you're separated by scores, hundreds or thousands of miles it becomes all to easy to forget that there are people with complementary abilities who can complete and improve upon what you're doing.

We look to those nearby.

We look to those who show up every day.

We look to those who always have their hands raised to answer questions and offer assistance.

If you're not around, you won't have the opportunity to do the work.

Onboarding Sounds Like Waterboarding.

A day of onboarding activities is a delirious waste of productive time.

Just like mandatory corporate fun.

I don't want to team build.

I don't want to listen to someone pontificate on how I can better align with the corporate culture.

I don't want to learn how I can live the company's values.

I have a team (that conveniently shares an address and dinner table with me).

I have a culture that has nothing to do with work (and it involves a lot of getting dirty in a garden).

I have a set of values that I live every minute of every day. Heck, I've even written about my rules, and how everything is a matter of integrity.

So what do I want?

I want to do my best work, collect my paycheck, and get back to the people and things that matter.

Keep the fruit punch. It's just that much more for everyone who cares about such things.

Sic Semper Tyrannis

As I look at another series of all-too-soon deadlines, I'm reminded of a single, inescapable truth of working in advertising

The tyranny of immediacy is the biggest danger to creativity.

Everything is due yesterday—usually figuratively though often literally. There's barely time to fill the prescription as written, so there's certainly a limited time to actually review an ad brief and truly diagnose the problem.

So we have to be ahead of any brief. We must render it almost meaningless to the work except to tell us when, where and in what media our work will appear.

The only solution I can see is for copywriters to regain control of the brief.

The only way to regain control of the brief is to make it utterly obsolete.

You know what clients you have, what products they peddle, and what results they want. If you don't, you should. So find out.

Then spend time thinking about your audience. Use whatever you can to get a feel for how they think and work and live. Your own research is best. Primary research from your colleagues is second best. Everything else is lesser, but at least it's something.

Absorb the information. Memorize it if there's data involved. Make that customer your best friend. Then craft your messages accordingly, and in a voice that sounds like your client would say it.

Be the brief. Free yourself from tyrants at least a little bit.

The Gig Economy Is Killing Expertise

Someone asked me about freelance apps and crowdsourcing creative today. It's a topic that always pisses me off.

So this is more of a half-baked rant than anything else.

Finding freelance work as a creative professional is a hard hustle. In addition to doing outstanding work each and every time, you have to cultivate relationships and manage expectations. That way you can develop repeat customers.

Freelance apps and websites are making it harder.

More than that, they're undercutting the value of expertise.

Everything is reduced to a blind bid; and mostly at prices that would make even the any-minimum-wage-is-too-high crowd blush.

Hell. Fivver is predicated on the idea that you can get professional creativity for five bucks. And the offers on UpWork are ridiculous "$20 for a series of articles" or Of course there are crowdsourcing options like 99 Designs where only the "winner" gets paid.

Give away creative ideas for free? No. And you know what you can go do to yourself for asking.

As Don Draper said, "That's the job. I give you money. You give me ideas."

If you want my ideas, I get your money. Period. And it had better be more than the spare change in your pocket.

Outside the creative arena things are even more awful on the pay-scale front. Uber. Lyft. Task Rabbit. Takl. They're all digital plantation owners getting rich off the hard work of others.

Of course, that leads me down the rabbit hole to LinkedIn, Yelp, FourSquare and countless sites that generate revenue on content they get for free.

I'll be writing a lot more about this topic.

And as I do so, I'll be reminding everyone I can that no one buys the cow if they're getting the milk for free.