Barbara Tuchman's Craft

Barbara Tuchman is not a copywriter. She is a writer of history. This is the opening paragraph of her famous book on World War I, The Guns of August:

So gorgeous was the spectacle on the May morning of 1910 when nine kings rode in the funeral of Edward VII of England that the crowd, waiting in hushed and black-clad awe, could not keep back gasps of admiration. In scarlet and green and blue and purple, three by three the sovereigns rode through the palace gates, with plumed helmets, gold braid, crimson sashes, and jeweled orders flashing in the sun. After them came five heirs apparent, forty more imperial or royal highnesses, seven queens – four dowager and three regnant – and a scattering of special ambassadors from uncrowned countries. Together they represented seventy nations in the greatest assemblage of royalty and rank ever gathered in one place and, of its kind, the last. The muffled tongue of Big Ben tolled nine by the clock as the cortege left the palace, but on history’s clock it was sunset, and the sun of the old world was setting in a dying blaze of splendor never to be seen again.

This paragraph is her most famous. It took her eight hours to write. How much time do you spend crafting your writing?

Austin Kleon's Books

Read these. They're full of really good advice for people working in a creative industry. It'll take you 90 minutes to get through both of them. The first (Steal) is about how the work of others can help you find your voice. The second (Show) is about connecting with others by sharing your work (your process of work, not just the finished product).

Hating Everything the Most Doesn't Make You the Best

My friend Peter is very opinionated. Sometimes he seems like a crank. I used to think he hated everything. Then I realized he also loved some really bad things. And some really good things. I noticed a method to his madness: he said he liked the things he liked, and he said he didn't like the things he didn't like. It didn't matter to him what other people thought. I respect Peter's opinion. I don't always agree, but I very much respect it.

There are other people I know (who shall not be named) who think that everything is shit. At least, they SAY they think everything is shit. With those people, I don't care about their opinion. Two reasons, really:
1) I already know what they think about whatever. They think it's shit.
2) They're lying.

I don't think anyone actually hates everything. But I do think in a creative industry where it's important to have high standards, there can become a kind of competition. A pressure to have the highest standards. And who has the highest standards? The person who doesn't like anything? They must have the highest standards, right?

It can seem like that person's opinion would become the most important opinion in the room. Because if they ever do like something, it must really be good, obviously. But that's not true. First of all, to my point above, hating everything makes your opinion irrelevant and people start disregarding it altogether. Second, that "everything sucks" attitude is usually the result of trying to win the non-existent high-standards contest, caring too much what others think of what you think, or just an unfortunate psychological predisposition. All of those are bad.

Don't love everything. Everything is not good. In fact, most stuff is not good. Have high standards. But base those on what you think (maybe with some good reasons as to why you think it). Don't worry about what other people think you think. And don't try to impress them with your mythically high standards.  Don't be a hater.

* Peter is not a crank. He's a great guy.

Advice To Juniors

"There's always too much to do in advertising. If you're willing to do anything that somebody asks, you're going to wind up getting opportunities. And if you don't mess up, they'll give you more."
- Alex Bogusky

So you really think it would be cool to live in California?

"Why do you love her?"

"Because she lives in my town." 

This is one of those posts that makes me worry I'm going to come off as some cranky old coot. But I still think it's good advice.

If you're interviewing with an agency, and the person asks you what you're looking for, as in like a job, or what you're seeking in life, that's really another way of asking "why do you want to come work at our agency?" So please don't let your first answer be, "I really want to live in California."

That may be true. California has its perks. But there are 1400 ad agencies in California. There are 26,000 creative companies. And there are 12.2 million available jobs, not including couch surfing. So answering that you want to move to California, while it's a fine lifestyle choice, isn't what your interviewer wants to hear. It's one step above a shrug and a mumbled "Dunno."

Maybe say something work related, for starters. You're looking to go to a place that does amazing creative? You want to learn and grow? You just want to make cool shit? That at least narrows it down a little. It implies something about the why you and the agency you're talking to are a good match beyond its physical location.

Bug Wisdom from B.Thibbs

Brian Thibodeau is our buddy who designed this blog's masthead. He also produced this content for Orkin which launched last week. They're not ads. Well, yes, they are. Kind of. But not. Enjoy.







More Bug Wisdom here.

The Rise of Sadvertising

"There's nothing more dangerous in advertising than following a trend."

That said, this is a very good article on one of advertising's most recent trends: Sadvertising.

Really nice spots embedded in here, too.

DDB California Internship

Don't phone it in.

I'm going to talk about voice overs first. Then I'm going to talk about student portfolios. Walk with me.

I just listened to about 190 voice over auditions. That's not an exaggeration. It's not the most glamorous part of being a creative. But it is necessary.

Here's the thing: voice over auditions have grown much sloppier over the years. Here are some major glitches I heard in this last round of 190:

• Echo in the room.
• Talent flubs a line and doesn't bother to re-record.
• I can tell the talent has a cheap mic.
• I can tell the talent is recording with their iPhone.
• Volume is mixed way too low.
• Volume is mixed way too high.
• Talent didn't read the casting specs I wrote (e.g., an energetic 20-year-old guy auditioning for the role of a laid-back 50-year-old.) 
• I hear the mic stand wiggling in the background.
• Sounds like talent was on a plane. Maybe it was just someone vacuuming in the background.

There's one reason why voice over auditions have grown sloppier: technology. Mics are less expensive. Garageband. Apps. It's easier to set up a home studio. It used to be VO talent would go into a professional studio and record their takes where nothing was left to chance. I'm all for home studios and convenience. But not when it allows you to be lazy.

If the talent's voice is exceptional, I can overlook poor quality. It's just an audition, after all. But if there's even a question (and with 190 voices to choose from, there always is), I go with quality. Because quality shows me that the talent cares. They care about their career, this particular opportunity, their craft, and my script.

Now, here's how this applies to student portfolios: technology can make you lazy, too.

Art directors can search Getty Images and plug in cheap stock. Copywriters can use a Microsoft Word thesaurus. Creative teams can use nicely designed printouts and Keynote presentations to sell an okay idea without really pushing it as far as it can go conceptually.

Whether you're a student trying to get your portfolio on a creative director's desk or a creative director trying to win a pitch, quality and craft can be the difference between a win and a loss. As Sally Hogshead says, "The difference between an A- book and an A+ book is all the difference in the world."

This is your career we're talking about. Don't phone it in.

Writers, Be a Word Nerd

My mother corrects my grammar. Still. If I send an email and incorrectly use I as an object, she will let me know (I did the other day, and she let me know about it).

Odds are, you don't have my mother. But hopefully you have someone who has instilled in you the importance of understanding how to write well. (I'm speaking primarily to writers here, but art directors who can write are awesome.)

Great art directors know their craft inside and out. They get off on serifs and kerning and leading, and it irritates them if you use the words "font" and "typeface" interchangeably. But for some reason, a lot of writers place less importance on their wordsmithing. "I suck at drawing" is a terrible reason to become a copywriter.

You have to love words.

You should get all giddy when you hear a great line of dialogue.

You should actually enjoy reading books like the one above and not feel like it's torture.

If you see a word that you don't know, you should look it up.

You should write. A lot.

You should have favorite authors, favorite books, favorite sentences.

When you read and you come across a great sentence, you should stop and consider what makes it a great sentence. How is it constructed? What is the author doing? What choices did he/she make in writing the sentence that way?

I'm not saying you have to be able to diagram a sentence (though it can't hurt). And I'm not saying that everything you write needs to be grammatically correct. But like design, there are mechanics to writing. There are reasons a sentence is strong--conscious decisions that are made in its construction. If you want to be a decent writer, you need to have, at the very least, a working knowledge of these things. Ideally, you obsess over them.

Be a word nerd. We like nerds.