Not too long ago, lets call it an even year and a half, I gave up on writing. Prior to that, lets say an odd year and three quarters ago, I had a keen interest in writing humour for a living. Then at some point, and I cant figure out when, I realized that I actually may be able to make a living writing for magazines and the like. I could in fact write for anyone who would let me flex my muscles and write extra long sentences with double negatives a plenty. Of course these chaps were few and far between but common enough that I could find a job and be gainfully employed. So whatever happened to writing funny little stories on some A4 glossy for the rest of my life……..fucking Neil French, that’s what happened.
I read a stupendously famous piece of copy written by a stupendously famous man named Neil French. Never heard of him, well unless you are a student of advertising or have seen me rant incessantly about the man after a few drinks, you probably wouldn’t have. But if you have been either of the above (my grave apologies if you’ve been the latter) you probably know what I’m talking about. And you probably know just to what extent I respect and admire the one time creative godfather of WPP. All that aside, at the core of all this hero worship is the idea that I wanted to be just like him, write genius advertising and win more awards than god. (Honestly, even god would have trouble racking up Lions the way this man has) and basically make a career as a copywriter. Like actual, “hey I wrote that line under the Coke logo” type stuff.
So gainful employment aside, I sit here interning at a rather prestigious agency with somewhat prestigious, but entirely dubious, clients to work on. Honest to god, I could build up my job and make myself sound really indispensable, I could make myself sound like the rise or fall of BIG TV rested entirely on my shoulders, like an agency that’s stood for 75 years could just collapse if I took a day off, like the world of advertising is waiting for my next big SMS/notifier/emailer, but in all truth a monkey could do what I do. In fact he’d probably do it with less bitching and moaning than me and might just have better ideas on selling set top boxes. I’m not even debating how much more fun he’d be around the office. But more than anything else, a monkey would bring self satisfaction to every crap piece of work he churns out, this no matter how hard I try, I cannot do. I’m used to having my work looked at; I’m used to showing it off. And I am not used to making excuses. “The client just spit out my better ideas man,” “they just don’t know good work when they see it,” and my personal favourite, “BIG is filled with a bunch of douche bags and shopkeepers.” All of these excuses are fair in some way or another, but I don’t recall ever making any excuses, ever, before I got here.
My work was always been on time and was always some measure of worthwhile. It just isn’t anymore. It’s just sorta done. I finished my work today and came home, that’s what I did today. I finished. And it just doesn’t seem like what I signed up for. I’d like to do good work, work that I can show people without having to make lame excuses for it, I want to be able to say that’s my fault if something’s screwed up. I like things that way.
I’ve spent the last week filling in for Bobo the chimpanzee for sure, but I’ve also taken time just to write. Write random things, like my versions of the Adidas campaign dedicated to my friends or things even more random than that. And I cannot describe how good that felt. Writing just for writing’s sake, with no restrictions and no client and no seniors to say ‘dumb it down.’ In fact no one at all to say shit. I’ve enjoyed that and the worst part is I’ve had that exact work environment at two previous jobs. At the time I loved it, in hind sight I loved it, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why I’m not doing it right now. But alas, I’ve only been at this for a week. Perhaps more time will show me a part of the job that isn’t quite chimpanzee like and more the task of a higher primate.
For now however, I shall have to hope that there isn’t a chimp out there with his own space on blogspot and more interesting views on adverting and the world in general. Aaahhh crap there probably is one. Oh stop being polite and go google him already……
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