10 Ways to Write Stuff Better and That.

Everyone loves a list, so here’s mine...

(1) Rip Up The Rule Book And Throw It In The Bin. No, wait, you write the rules, THEN rip them up don't you?

(2) Fish The Rule Book Out Of The Bin And Sellotape It Back Together. Don't worry if some bits don't fit and others have half-eaten Greggs Cheese And Onion Pasty on them; it'll make sense eventually.

Look, here's a quote, "The harder I work; the luckier I get." That's the one every creative director tells every placement team isn't it? It makes sense: put the hours in and the chances are you're going to create better work. However, it doesn't always work like that. Sometimes an idea just pops into your head from nowhere. You might be in the bath, or trying not to fall asleep on the night bus. 

Now, I'm not saying you should be having baths willy-nilly, or getting drunk so you can try not to fall asleep on the night bus; that would be stupid, but equally, I don't think killing yourself, working 24/7, is too clever either. Work hard, yes, but also don't be afraid to (3) Sack It All Off Now And Again. Switching off helps you put enough distance between you and your work and helps you judge it more impartially. Also, your brain will carry on thinking even when you don't think it is, and that's when inspiration tends to strike. 

(4) Don't Take It So Personally, You Little Shitbag. In an advertising agency everyone is allowed to have an opinion about your work: planners, account teams, the post woman, that bloke who's wondered into reception thinking he's in GAP; everybody. The trick is to take it all on the chin and move on. It's hard, especially if you've been up all hours the night before writing scripts and then woken the baby up on your way to bed, causing trouble and strife with the trouble and strife, but that's just the way it is. Even what seem like stupid comments should be listened to as it might be there's a problem elsewhere with your ad that's making people misunderstand it. 

(5) Ignore The Brief. That doesn't mean present a Plasticine man when you’ve been asked to write a TV script; just don't get too bogged down by the brief. Briefs can push you towards a very narrow area of work. Obviously you should answer the brief, but if you think of something that's miles off brief then just present it anyway: the client might not know they want it until you show it. We've had print briefs that became TV ads because we managed to persuade the client that the message was better suited to TV. Thankfully they were very open-minded clients (plus, more importantly, hadn't actually booked any media at that stage). At the very least this will keep you sane when working on restrictive briefs.

I can't read this one. It's got (6) Beef Kung Po all over it. Mmm! Actually, I hope that's Beef Kung Po… 

(7) Be Your Own Creative Director. There are loads of ways to answer a brief, but only a few of them are any good. The more you show, the bigger the chance of one of the more rubbish ones being bought. So try and be selective with what you present. You can always use the stuff you don’t show in the next review.

(8) Keep It Simple. Your job is to come up with a simple idea that communicates the problem and offers a solution in an interesting and entertaining way. Once it's bought you can add to it and craft it, but the simpler an idea is the better chance it has of being understood and actually made.

Here's another quote; "We're not in the business of entertainment." It's something a creative director once said to us during a book crit. He may have said other stuff but to tell you the truth I’d stopped listening. At the time we had a book of silly, funny stuff and were a bit light on the pseudo arty bullshit that thankfully, died in the 1990s. I would argue with the creative director that we are in the business of entertainment, and if you don't engage the viewer you’ve got sod all chance of him taking any notice, no matter how pretty your ad is. We aren’t in the business of making art. We don't make films, we make adverts. Those aren't site-specific installations, they're billboards. So keep it funny, make it shocking, make it interesting and don't ask too much of the public. Always ask yourself (9) "Why Should Anyone Care About Your Advert?" That way you might make something other than nice-looking wallpaper.

Finally, (10) Eggs, Cigs, Milk, Bread. Sorry, that's an old shopping list. Either that or a the answer to a long copy brief from a wacky creative.

Where Would I Be Without Watford?

This week the excellent Watford Advertising Course are in WCRS. It's something WCRS and course tutor, Tony Cullingham, do annually; giving the students a taste of working in an agency on quick-turn-around briefs.

We're not actually setting them a brief this year, but if we were I can guarantee they'd produce lots of fresh and exciting ideas. It's just what Watford students do.

Tony's consistent ability of sending highly-motivated, talented students into the industry is why his course remains one of the surest ways of becoming an advertising creative.

Without it I would undoubtedly be doing something much more boring for a living.

You see, I very much stumbled into advertising. Don't get me wrong, I loved the ads on TV but never really dwelt on how they were made. The idea that someone wrote a script for Smash, or Monster Munch, or any of the other ads that made me laugh, had never even crossed my mind. I simply had no idea such a job existed.

What I wanted to be when I grew up changed throughout my life, with copywriter only making an appearance after finishing a Fine Arts degree. Until then I had wanted to be...

1. A whale (don't ask) - aged 3.
2. Everton's number 9 - from age 3 to current day.
3. Graphic designer - aged 8 to 16.
4. Indie guitarist - aged 15 to 19.
5. Artist - aged 16 to 22.

Whale, footballer, guitarist: the things every child dreams of being.

Then, with a matter of weeks away from graduating, the sudden, devastating realisation that being an artist was going to be difficult and financially unrewarding got me off my arse and down to the University career advisor. Or a BBC Computer as it was also known.

I typed in my qualification, pressed RETURN and waited with baited breath for my future to present itself to me.

In the end, I was offered the grand total of three possible careers;

1. Police Pathologist Photographer
2. Court Artist
3. Advertising Art Director

After immediately dismissing the idea of spending my working life around the clinically dead and criminally-minded (I could crack a joke about clients and account men here, but that would be too easy), I looked closer at a job in advertising.

It seemed fun. It seemed sexy. To be honest, it seemed nothing much like a real job at all. There was money, drink, glamour, drink, Soho, drink and the chance to get paid for seemingly dicking around with a pen and paper all day. To a Fine Arts student who'd spent most of his 4-year degree course watching Countdown and colouring in, it was an ideal fit.

So I wrote to a few agencies, visited others, and was eventually pointed towards the Watford Course. Although, one senior copywriter did suggest taking £2,000 to the Dog And Duck on Frith Street, and drinking until a creative director was hammered enough to hire me. I'd loved to have had the confidence (and £2,000) to do this, but opted for the slightly safer route of applying for a place at Watford.

Although the year was one of extremely hard work and even harder budgeting (I ate liver pate sandwiches for 6 months) it did lead to me eventually writing adverts for a living.

Sure, it's seldom as glamorous as it promised to be, and can often feel like a never-ending series of meetings discussing the thing you thought you couldn't possibly discuss any more in the last meeting, but it is still a million miles away from a proper job. 

Last month, for example, we spent 15 minutes debating the right sound for an air horn on a TV commercial, while eating sushi cones. 

A few years before that, we asked the late Emlyn Hughes to pretend to be a mouse. 

How many people get to do that every day?

And to think; I owe it all to Watford College. Thanks Tony; thanks a bunch.

Woof!

We've done 3 new TV ads for Churchill, featuring Dawn French.

It's a continuation of the campaign we've been working on for the last couple of years.

In these spots Dawn and Churchill have a dance in their garage, make a scene at a cafe, and enjoy some chips by the seaside. All in the name of car insurance.

They were directed by Dominic Brigstocke through Tomboy, produced (agency side) by Lizzie Mabbut with sound by Nick Angel and post production by the lovely people at Glassworks.

You can see them by clicking on Dawn's Face above, the portfolio to your right, or if that's too far away just click here.

Is Anyone Out There?

For a long time I've firmly believed that, apart from us advertisers, most people don't really care about advertising. 

Sure, they're only too happy to chat when prompted by drink and free cash in research groups, but day-to-day they just don't notice what we do.

This all probably stems from our first ad to run. 

It was the 1990s; it was exciting; we were on placement at RKCR, we were being paid, there was free beer in the fridge, and we were working on live briefs. 

One of which was a small space campaign for VH1, promoting the virtues of presenters Bob Mills, Clare Grogan and Richard Jobson (former singer of The Skids). After getting our idea past creative directors and client we raced into our first experience of production. 

Jobson: Insufferable.

Back then I was the art director, so I went off to the MTV building to shoot Jobson. Sadly, only with a camera, as a more insufferable prick I'm yet to meet. His most annoying habit was prefacing each facial expression with a helpful description: "Laconic", SNAP, "Quizzical", SNAP, "Informative", SNAP. 

Knob-sweat. SNAP.

Anyway, my first (but sadly not last) experience of the bell-endry of so-called-celebs aside, we soon had three ads we were really pleased with. Parents were called, proofs slotted into folio, and insertion dates circled on calendars. 

Then on the day, I was on the tube and there beside me was someone reading the paper our ad appeared in! I sat and waited; imagining the little chuckle the reader would let out when they saw our clever wordplay, our quirky art direction and our hilarious juxtaposing of popular culture and other things. 

They turned the page. There was our ad. I held my breath…

They turned the page again without even noticing all the work we'd done.

I was gutted.

However, I soon realised this wasn’t personal - the reader was ignoring all the ads in their paper.

And so my long held belief that no one really gives a toss about what we do was born.

Then, last Tuesday, it was sadly taken from this world by the 8.25 to London Liverpool Street. On this train I saw a man taking notice of a poster. A man so moved by an actual advert that he photographed its QR code!

QR Code or CEEFAX Porn?

I was flummoxed. My deep-seated cynicism was sent hither and thither, like a 1970s BBC entertainer after an unexpected knock on the door.

If this man could be arsed to take a photo of a QR code, I mused, maybe others could be persuaded to jot down phone numbers, remember product names, or even visit over/complicated/web/addresses/designed/to/forward-slash/help/tracking!

Like Lazarus awakened from death by Jesus, (although, strictly speaking, much more like a man surprised by another man's interest in the first man's job) I raced into the office.

Because as long as there's a chance that somewhere, someone will hear it, my hilarious elevator-based advertainment™ MUST be written!

So if you'll forgive me, I have important work to do...

The Super Bowl, Multi-Channel TV and Wagon Wheels

Back in the 80s, when Wagon Wheels were the size of wheels on wagons, we emerged, blinking; bewildered, into a multi-channel world. Well, four, but trust me; it was a big deal.

With this 4^th channel came an amazing new sport: like Rugby League, but with helmets, and less northern nightclub bouncer lookalikes. Their Redskins, Dolphins, and 49ers, made our Towns, Rovers and Stanleys seem ancient. They had cheerleaders and razzmatazz.

For that first season, the weekly highlights show was compulsive viewing. Then at the end of the season, the Super Bowl (or cup final to us) arrived. Rather than edited highlights, this was aired live and exclusive at some ungodly hour, and quickly my excitement disappeared.

A game comprising of four 15-minute quarters actually lasted for as long as four hours. It was bitty and fragmented, and I’m afraid that was where my love affair with American Football ended.

The game’s stop-start nature might have put me off, but weirdly, for a country that is said to have the attention span of a goldfish with A.D.D, it doesn’t seem to bother over 100 million Americans who sit through this meandering bore-fest every single year. A truly huge (in more than one way) audience, which American advertisers pay up to $4 million just to get a commercial in front of.

We don’t really have the equivalent over here. Sure, there are upsurges in bigger budget ads around Christmas, but a company gets a couple of months usage out of those. Admittedly, there will be ‘big’ ads during Champions League and World Cup Finals, yet this audience is split across many countries and many channels so isn’t quite the same.

But imagine if we had something like the Super Bowl here? Imagine one event where we knew millions would be watching at the same time. Imagine being able to pool all of our money and talent into making ad breaks as exciting and inventive as the thing they were appearing in?

It would be like the old days – when if you missed The Young Ones or the big Christmas movie then you may as well forget the idea of being included in playground conversations that week. But what kind of event would we need?

I can imagine Waterboarding Michael Gove pulling in a big audience. Dancing On Meths, also. And, if the X Factor was condensed down from its current flabby, over-long format to a 3-hour spectacular, with live ammunition and trapdoors, then that might also be a goer.

However, sadly the days of a nation sitting down as one, to watch one specific show are long gone. Truly multi-channel TV has helped to split audiences. And with Sky+ and Tivo viewers are now finally freed from the constraints of television schedules.

Which is great for them, but not such great news for us. We don’t have the same annual open goal as our American friends, and our audiences seem to get smaller, year on year.

A bit like Wagon Wheels.

(Actual Size)