Go to Work on an Oeuvre: Final thoughts on copywriting novelists

Winston Fletcher is quoted as saying in John Tylee’s article (Go to work on an Oeuvre) that there is a ‘fundamental difference between copywriting and writing novels.’ Indeed, most creative directors generally hold that novel writing and copy writing involve totally different skill-sets. This may be true, but there are also many similarities.

Someone once told me that writing a billboard is a little like writing a telegram. Every word costs something – it costs a lot in terms of your audience’s attention span. It’s just the same with books. As a novelist you need to write with just the same economy and precision in mind. Keeping your reader’s attention is just as important; you can lose them at any second. Especially difficult are the first 40 pages. I guess that’s the equivalent role of the headline. If you haven’t drawn them in by then, you’ve lost them for the rest of the story.

Sometimes people ask if I’d like to just do novels full time. Apart from the fact that I’d go mad being completely isolated at home every day trying in vain not to procrastinate (e.g. rearranging sock drawer, wanting to clean behind radiators), I think I’d miss the excitement and the immediacy of advertising. One of the things that advertising has going for it is that you generally see your work come to fruition sooner than with novels. Books can take years to get from submission to publication. An ad campaign can sometimes be turned around in a matter of months – (weeks in some cases; and days if you’re working with The Sun), although admittedly some ads can take years to produce when they get clogged up in the research process.

Generally speaking though, being a copywriter is the easiest way to find yourself an audience in the absence of a publishing deal. OK so your name may not be at the bottom of the poster, but at least you’ve reached out and achieved ‘mental rental’ with someone you never met. You’ve still made them laugh, made them stop and think on their way to work. Whatever anyone says against this job, there is a kind of romance in that.

Go to Work on an Oeuvre: thoughts on copywriting Vs. novel writing – (chapter three)

‘We told the world how to tick… we informed you in six seconds that you needed something you didn’t know you lacked.’ 

Many people think copywriting is in some way immoral – that we’re all just cold-hearted hidden persuaders cruelly manipulating the world. Indeed, most copywriters talk ashamedly about what they do – like they’re not ‘proper writers’. I don’t know how many people have read it, but this is definitely the impression we get from Joshua Ferris’ novel (Then we came to the end).

I think this is a little unfair (especially of Ferris, himself a jaded ex-copywriter). I think copywriting could be seen as a way of sharpening your tools before you go out into the ‘real world’ of writing – whether it’s for novels, screenplays or the theatre. But I also think it deserves to be seen as a worthwhile activity in its own right (one that we ought not to be ashamed of at parties, which some people seem to be).

Humour me here. Four years ago I went to a D & AD workout class called ‘Writing for Advertising,’. I remember the day vividly. It was run by Will Awdry, who also happens to be a descendent of the great Rev. W. Awdry, (famed for creating an endearingly anthropomorphic chain of railway trains.)  Half way through the class, Awdry drew two chalk circles on the blackboard. One very large one, and one much smaller one inside it. The small circle, he said, is the copywriter in you. The large one is the writer. Every copywriter, he claimed, has both – and in an ideal world both circles should feed off one another.

That day, (at the very real risk of sounding utterly pretentious) I remember suddenly feeling guilty, that I’d been neglecting my ‘outer circle’ for too long; that the (alleged) novelist in me was now badly under-nourished. That was probably the moment I decided to give my novel a proper go. But in doing so, my copywriting career also shifted into second gear. Maybe I’m alone in this, but for me the circles thing really makes sense. This is already too long though so I’ll have to continue trying to explain why in another chapter. TBC…

Go to Work on an Oeuvre – additional thoughts on copywriting novelists (Chapter One)

Sorry for the deafening silence. Nat’s been in Istanbul, and I (Lol) was in Cornwall, ‘working on my ouevre’, as it were. Well, let’s just say the idea for novel number three is slowly going from embryo to foetus, but we’re still a very long way off the crazy cravings. OK, I think I’ve sucked the life out of that analogy now. Anyway, having just seen the article on copywriting novelists in last week’s Campaign, I wanted to add a few thoughts into the mix. Being as I’ve written a whole piece on this before I’m going to spread them out into ‘chapters’ rather than reproduce the whole lot here. Firstly, I think it’s worth paying homage to all the other novel-writing creatives that weren’t mentioned in John’s article:

Augusten Burrows – Dry

Joshua Ferris – Then we came to the end

Matt Beaumont – E, The E before Christmas

Al Maccuish – The Ministry of Letters (childrens book, yet to find a home but he also has many TV projects coming into fruition)

Gordon Comstock (OK so he’s fiction, but he did leave his copywriting job to become a poet. See Orwell’s Keep the Aspadistra Flying. )

And some others… Peter Mayle, Don DeLillo, Ogden Nash, Victor Pelevin, Dashiell Hammett, Antonia White, and recently, Jonathan Durden…

If I’ve missed any others, feel free to share.

As an aside…. having just read John Tylee’s article, I feel the need to make a slight tweak to my comment that ‘it was never a burning desire’ to write. What I probably meant to say there was that I’ve never been one of those novelists who has six half-finished manuscripts perishing under their bed, and who has gone to lots of creative writing classes. I was always really intimidated by all that so I’ve been making it up in a hurry as I go along (which probably shows).

So in some ways I feel I don’t deserve the fact I’ve been published because I somehow haven’t ‘suffered’ enough for it yet – although getting nine rejection emails is no picnic. I guess it all came as a surprise. Having to frantically write the second half of book one in about a month kind of forced me to discover how to write. It’s amazing what a deadline can do to you. So for what it’s worth my tip to anyone wanting to write a book is to impose a few false deadlines on yourself. In the absence of a real deadline, it’s the only way you’ll get the fear that you need to inspire you. Speaking of deadlines we’ve got a radio ad to write. Back soon.

TBC…