Occupational Hazards 1: Pun Tourettes

In
the first in a series exploring an advertising creative’s occupational
hazards, Lol fesses up to a recent plunder (is that a pun within a
pun?)…

So, as we know, punning is universally outlawed when writing copy. However, my problem is that, because I’ve taught myself to repress even the slightest whiff of a pun when thinking of ideas, the side effect is that now, as soon as I’m out the door my pun-reflexes go into overdrive. I’m suddenly propelled into thinking of the most awful pun-jokes all the time; in bars, restaurants, parties, wherever. Like a more sinister kind of tourettes, they just pop into my head and I feel compelled to release them. Even though friends are accommodating and do laugh at some of them, it’s still a terrible affliction and one I’m forever apologizing
for. It’s half due to my Romanian father and his uniquely cheesy (and often inappropriate) sense of humour. But it’s mainly to do with how my brain feels the need to do a kind of ‘pun-run’, to get them out my system before Monday morning comes around again.

There are many examples I could confess to but the most recent occurred when Nat and I were at last month’s Hospital Club Creative Awards, (we were there for the ‘Breakthrough
creatives’ award or something – unsurprisingly we were pipped to
the post by Duncan Jones). Anyway, my victim was an
unsuspecting Alex James of Blur, stood next to me at the bar. As he was one of my childhood heroes, I decided to brave a hello, after which a friendly conversation ensued.

Everything was going fine until, ten minutes into the chat, the catastrophic nerve-induced pun reared its ugly head.

Lol: So, are you doing much music these days?

Alex James: No, just cheese.

Lol: So, you’re doing cheesy music?

  
Awful. just awful. He was very nice about it although I’m still shuddering at the memory now. To make matters worse, I then tried to account for my pun, by blaming it on the fact I worked in advertising and that punning was outlawed. But he didn’t believe me. You see that’s the thing; as much as we all try and maintain that advertising ought not to be polluted with puns, the reality is that the general public (like some clients) still think a good ad must involve a nice juicy pun.

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…