Reason #4638 to hire a copywriter: Upcycling

My dear, adorable friend, Jenni Avins just astounds me. I may have mentioned her to you before. She has a blog called, Closettour, and she is, in the true flavor of a Gen Y’er (I think she’s in Gen Y—regardless, she’s younger than me), turning the world upside down and doing it her own way. She has boundless energy and she…well…she just makes the coolest shit happen.

Her ‘genre’, if you will, is a mash of fashion, sustainability, history/origin/storytelling and journalism (read: new media).

I wanted to share one of her webisodes with you so that 1) you could get a hit of her—the enthuse will stick with you all day, and b) because its concept, I think, is spillable to our focus here. (That would be, in case you got lost, ‘writing where you want to go’—’writing’ being code for ‘however you create’, of course.)

In this webisode, Jenni is trying to clean out her closet. Which is exactly like me trying to clean out my writingroads.com cache of posts and drafts. I mean, how can I throw any of it away? As for the completed posts, each word has meaning and memory. As for the hundreds of drafts I have, ummm…I might use them someday. Those of you wondering, ‘Why would you want to throw any of it away?’ I love you.

Alas, in the midst of her heart-wrenching struggle to closet-thin, Jenni heard about these extraordinarily magnificent English women that call themselves Junky Styling. Kerry and Annika take your old clothes, the ones that you just can’t let go of, the ones that might still serve some sort of critical purpose…and make them new again.

They don’t call it recycling, they call it—upcycling. Because they are making your items better. They are bringing them up—to now. To what you want now, to what you need now. And they do it in a way that lets you hang on to the past, the what if, the hope, the thread.

For all intents and purposes, if you are someone that likes to hold on to things, the women of Junky Styling are actualizing our deep belief that all of those items—be they skirts, one line random thoughts, sweaters, poems, scarves, postless titles or whatever—were purchased or devised and then held on to for a real reason.

So I started thinking about how amazing it would be to have Junky Styling for words and ideas. People that take ideas, scraps of words, worn out prose, random concepts, hopes, futures, bits of brilliance that just didn’t match the rest of your message or ad or article—and upcycle them. Turn them into clear, concise, wordy perfection–exactly what you need now.

And then I remembered that we already have people that do just that.

Oh, how I love my job.

Behold Jenni Avins below in all of her Closettour glory:

CLOSETTOUR: Wardrobe Surgery with Junky Styling from Jenni Avins on Vimeo.

Reason # 417 To Hire A Copywriter: You could be making our day

I’m not going to talk about their sales or anything like that – but I have to say something about this Old Spice campaign.

If you don’t know about it, go here, and then come back. We won’t wait, but this post is magically timed to be here for you when and as you need it…so don’t worry, you won’t miss a thing.

So, I’ve been imagining the scene. Here’s how it looked to me:

A comfy room with couches and such—and a huge table in the center. It’s piled high with all kinds of food…and likely booze, maybe even some pot brownies. And four bright and shiny MacBook Pros. And in front of them—fingers dashing across keyboards, eyes bright, mouths shouting out ideas—sit The Writers.

Yes, the football player/spokesdude is hot and his voice is perfection. But he wouldn’t be as charming or witty or funny or addictive if the right words weren’t coming out of his mouth.

And as far as I’m concerned, these Writers had just about the best gig ever with Old Spice.

“So basically,” the Marketing Director told them (in my imagination), “We want you to watch Twitter and all of the crazy things that famous and non-famous people are saying to the Old Spice Guy—and then write the most ridiculous, over-the-top, nutso responses. We’ll give you whatever props you want. Just don’t swear or offend anyone—especially the mothers. This is all about the mothers. Okay, go.”

In my dream, these writers were paid handsomely for their Word Juice. Man, I hope that part’s true. (…and the pot brownies, too…would explain so much…)

Image credit: Joe Shlabotnik

Sitting on rapture

I just had a good long talk with myself. Because I was driving myself crazy.

• Staring at the screen.
• The blank one, that is.
• Not allowing myself to type even one word.
• Until I was positive it was The Perfect Word.
• Therefore, me = paralyzed, inactive, stymied.
• Not writing.
• Worrying.
• Ridiculous.

Just start, I told myself. Maybe not at the beginning…but somewhere in between, at some point along the way.

Because even those car ads that boast ’0 to 60′ admit that it happens over the course of X number of seconds. It is not instantaneous, it is a progression.

Albeit from static and silence to rapture.

Image credit: valkyrieh116

Reason 314 to hire a copywriter: We bring it

You know that I love my work. But some days, well, I love it an extra lot.

I got a rush assignment on Friday to write the opening speech for an annual company meeting. Does that sound boring to you? Okay, keep your pants on. It gets better.

During the prep meeting, I learned that the company is not thrilled with its team’s performance. The tone of these opening remarks was to be unapologetic, in your face, take no prisoners. Terms like, ‘there are no excuses’ were tossed around. And I couldn’t help jotting down in my notes, ‘there are no points for second place’ – just like Jester said.

Oh, and then I was told that the audience is primarily men. Smart, high-performing, extremely motivated, (cocky, arrogant bastard) men. The words in the parentheses are all mine. I’m a writer, I editorialize, I can’t help it—but believe me, that was the tone. (I editorialize, but I don’t make things up—I’m not a fiction writer, after all.)

“This thing needs testosterone,’ I was told.

Remember the Brady Bunch where Marcia gets through her speech-giving nerves by imagining the audience in their underwear? Well, I just imagined this audience full of my old boyfriends.

And I had so much fun bitch-slapping them around with my words, that it took me all of 45 minutes and one draft to nail it.

Which brings me back to Reason 314 to hire a copywriter. We really can bring it—whatever kind of it you happen to need…

Image credit: khowaga1 (and yes, that is a picture of my exes in their underwear)

Reason #4343 to hire a copywriter: Seeing eye to eye

One of the best things about walking out from behind your computer screen and going to conferences is meeting people that heretofore you only knew as an avatar.

Let me fill you in on something. No one looks like their avatar. Some look worse, some look better (Oh! How my fingers ache to put examples behind those statements!) and they’re all decidedly warmer. But, no one looks like you think they will.

Case in point, Steve Sherlock came to find me at SOBCon. There were big hugs, “I’m so glad to finally meet you”s, and on and on. And then there was my realization that he was roughly 8 feet tall. And that I’m not (I forget this fact a lot – sort of like a chihuahua). He noticed too, saying, “Wow, from your Twitter avatar, I thought you’d be much taller!”

“She’s larger than life,” said my dear friend Andi. God bless ‘er.

This ‘in person’ thing is the only time I don’t like being short – ’cause otherwise, I really like it:

• I curl up in chairs easily.
• My feet have never hung off the end of a bed or stuck out of the covers.
• I can be carried easily in cases of emergency (or passion).
• Falling down hurts less.
• I’m afraid of heights.

But, when I’m talking to a peer and I have to look up at them to converse, a power imbalance ensues. And, unless the tall person gets off on intimidation and lording over others or unless the short person thinks of themself as unworthy and, well, small – I don’t think it’s comfortable for either party.

Personally, I simply won’t stand for it. I want to look into your eyes, not up your nose. So I did this (see below) and it was caught on camera and tweeted by Steve Woodruff.

@Swoodruff: Julie @writingroads strategy for having face time with tall people

(Ignore the face I’m making in this photo, I’ve run through every word I know and I can’t find one that causes that face.)

See, it’s like I told you the other day, I’m not above stepping on things to get what I need.

The Power of the copywriter

Good copywriters solve problems. If your competition or your dream clients are ‘taller’ or ‘shorter’ than you, copywriters and content creators (and social media strategists) should be able to figure out a way to get you to eye level, to position your message and brand in a way that creates a natural conversation, connection and relationship.

Interruption marketing just isn’t cutting it anymore. It’s done from a perspective where the company is decidedly bigger or smaller than their customer, and therefore, has to scream to get their attention. Interruption tactics include:

• TV commercials
• Radio commercials
• Let’s face it: all commercials
• Blinking, obnoxious ‘BUY THIS’ windows that open when you’re just trying to read a post
• Pushing your products on people
• Not listening, just talking/yelling/shouting
• Taking, sucking and bogarting the energy

As opposed to relationship, or relational or human, marketing. Blogging and social media tools can be used quite effectively as a means to this relationship building, by the way.

• Meeting people where they are.
• Listening to what clients and customers need.
• Solving their problems.
• Not pushing your product on them.
• Giving, not taking.
• Being a real person.
• Building a relationship of trust.

All difficult things to do when you’re staring into someone’s belly button.

Reason #4510 to hire a copywriter: Sushi Tacos

Seriously. I’m not kidding.

The first time I saw them on the menu, I thought, ewww, no. I thought, I can’t do that, there’s something wrong there.

But the second time? Oh, the second time. That’s the time I just let myself live.

I’m going to let you in on a little secret: I could live on sushi. The only problem with Japanese food, as far as I can tell, is that they don’t use butter. But to be honest, I’m not really above shmearing some on my next salmon avocado roll.

This past weekend, when I was in New York City, I ate sushi (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 – give me a sec, counting on my fingers) six, yes, six times. And, one of those times, I fell in love with a little something called a Sushi Taco at Nobu.

How ‘bout I break it down for you:

• Homemade taco shell, thick (like 5 or 6 wimpy Tostito’s thick), just enough oil to leave a fine sheen on your finger tips, perfect crunch, divine salt crystals scattered about, about 4 inches in diameter (if flattened)
• Filled with little pieces of either salmon (raw), tuna (raw), lobster, crab or seviche…tossed in some kind of asiany-cilantroy-stunning marinade that made you want to sing
• Covered in salsa verde that was purely savory, not tongue burning whatsoever

There was not one thing about this sushi taco that was wrong. I didn’t even miss the guacamole, and that’s saying a lot because I have a pretty intense relationship with the avocado. The melding of the flavors, the textures, the size, the beauty – all right, right, right.

But it should’ve been all wrong. When you think sushi, you think rice, not corn, and certainly not tortilla. When you think taco, you think melted cheese and chili powder saturated beef, not raw fish. (Yes, I know there are fish tacos wondering around in this world, but those are just tacos in fish’s clothing, tacos with fish cooked with mexican spices – like a beef substitute).

But this, this…this masterpiece was still inherently Japanese. It still tasted, looked and felt like Nobu.

They took their basic signature product (sushi) and added a spin (taco/mexican) that pushed the envelope, the reputation, the flavor, the brand to a new place.

That’s what you want your copywriter, marketer, blogger to do for you. Use the tools, use your stuff, but add that something that will take it to a whole new dimension. In a way that only you can do it.

I ate 4 of those dimensions…and I want many, many more.

Yes, I know, I know – I should have taken a picture of the tacos, but A) I’m a horrible photographer and the camera on my new Blackberry curve SUCKS, and B) those tacos were made for eating and eating alone – I was consumed by the edible experience and could not pause to document it. So…Image credit: NicoleLee

Back-up plans, face plants and rice

I was going to post something different this morning, but then I almost died, so I changed my tack. Granted, my take on this morning’s events might be a slight exaggeration, but we’ll never know, now will we?

Here’s what happened. I work in a small studio space, one room, adorable, cozy, happy. And this morning I was making rice. I let it boil and then I turned the heat on the stove way down to simmer and walked away to work.

About 45 minutes later, I got up to get some water and realized that the flame on the stove was out, which made me realize that it smelled an awful lot like gas in my studio. And that I was dizzy (though that may have been psychosomatic – read, I have a very vivid, suggestable and active imagination).

So I opened up all of the windows, letting the rain and wind sweep through, literally clearing the air. The actress in me even stuck my head out the window and took in a nice deep breath.

After this close call, I’m thinking I need one of those buttons on my desk. A help button, an emergency button, an ‘I’ve fallen and I can’t get up button’. I mean, would I have had time to Skype Shauna or Ron or Leslie (who are always just an IM away) before my face hit my keyboard? Maybe if we had a codeword. Though my nose probably wouldn’t have the wherewithal to remember it, let alone enter it correctly as it falls forward.

As many of us here are freelancers – copywriting, designing, social media’ing – and work alone, I’m wondering: what’s the back-up plan? As in, who’s got your actual back? Is anyone aware of your whereabouts and health status? Is someone checking in to make sure you’re alive during the day?

How long would it have taken for someone to find me? I’m due at a Seder tonight at 5:30, so there’s that. But on a regular Monday? Oy, I shiver at the thought.

Personally, and for what it’s worth, if 5:00 came and went and I never bugged Shauna about one of the zillion client projects we’re working on or didn’t run something by Ron or didn’t just generally connect with Leslie or if one of them pinged me and I didn’t answer – they would know something was wrong. But by then it would be too late and I’d already be dead.

I’m very, uberly, wickedly superstitious. So now I’m worried that I’m writing my fate. If I do die mysteriously at my desk in the next few days, don’t get too creeped out, just know that I have mad intuitive skills – and see it as a nice little kick in the ass from me to: 1. Get some sort of back-up plan, and 2. Check your stove regularly when cooking rice.

Image credit: kharied

Pretty Girl Karma

Surprisingly, this post applies to my male readers too – and to people that don’t consider themselves to be pretty (you really are, like it or not).

Writers, freelancers, work from homers – whoever you may be. At some point in your illustrious career, some lovely person has said this to you, “That’s so cool that you work from home! You can just wear your pajamas all day and no one will care or see you!”

Uh huh. It’s true. We could do that. And some days, I’m sure we all do.

I’m going to go out on a limb here and proclaim, superficiality be damned, that what we wear, how we costume ourselves, really does matter. It affects what we think about ourselves, how we act, how we talk, what we say, what actions we take.

When I dress in sweats and running shoes, I’m casual, I slump – sometimes when I look from the work I’m doing on my computer down to my clothes and back up again, it occurs to me that I’m maybe I’m only ‘playing’ writer.

So, I don’t do that anymore. Because when I wear jeans that fit in all the right places, my good bra that erases 3. 5 years of pregnancy and nursing with a single clasp, a beautiful and stain-free sweater and shoes that make me almost as tall as most other people who are on the shorter side of average height – then, I feel it when I’m sitting in this chair.

I’m confident, I’m worthy, I’m an adult, I’m a professional. I’m in touch with my power source. I own it. You can see it in the way I hold myself, in the way I walk, in the way I am and in the way I do. I dare say it’s my pretty girl karma. Because what I put out, comes right back at me – respect, value, compensation for what I’m worth, hotness, good people, great projects.

And in this case, karma is not a bitch. (Unless you piss her off.)

This post is dedicated to the FANTASTIC Kelly Diels who, when I told her that I dressed hot for the big Dragon Tattoo Blog Hunt launch yesterday even though no one saw me all day, remarked, ‘Of course…pretty girl karma’ without skipping a beat – and sparked my brain and ignited this post. Kelly gets it and just so you know, Kelly always looks hot and always shows plenty of Cleavage. I love her to bits.

What about you? Do you have power clothes? A power look? Are you affected by your threads? How?

Image credit: AlyssssylA

What’s security anyway?

I got a phone call yesterday afternoon. Well, first I got a message via LinkedIn requesting the call, then I got the call.

It was from a recruiter. Offering a very (very) high paid job at a company in Boston. For those of you who read this blog regularly and saw yesterday’s post, you can join me in a good laugh here: the position was to create and manage the social media department – wait for it – for a PR firm.

I know. As an old friend used to say, you just can’t make this stuff up.

It turned out that the job wasn’t right for me, the company’s looking for someone with strong social media experience and hands-on programming experience (HTML, Javascript, AJAX, XML, etc.) Which would be like asking me if I could write and do chemistry…which I couldn’t, can’t and, quite frankly, won’t. (If this is YOU, let me know and I’ll guide you right to this recruiter!!! And don’t let the Boston thing scare you, they’re even willing to pay for relo.)

Even though that particular job wasn’t for me, we got to talking – and said recruiter was very excited about what it is that I do, how I do it and why I do it. To be honest, I was excited about my answers too. And this confirmed that it would be sorta hard to woo me away from my present situation – owning my own company, being my own boss, freelancing and the randomness that comes with it.

Let’s be honest.

An actual job has some things going for it: a steady paycheck, health insurance, VACATION TIME, SICK TIME               sorry – I’m back, I think I just fainted for a minute there.

But, and it’s a big BUT – how secure would this job really be? As it stands, my success is entirely dependent on me. It’s a lot of pressure, but at least it’s mine. I do well when I work hard, seize opportunity, smear my gumption all over people…and things like that. I do poorly when I don’t do those things. And I have no one to blame but myself. Really. Even if I get screwed over or let down by a client, it’s up to me whether I cry about it and sling responsibility (and we all deserve at least 5 minutes of this) or whether I just get up and go find another one, a better one. Companies fold all the time or it’s just not a good fit or…there are so many things that could make this opportunity crumble.*

So, what I told her was, “Of course, I’ll send my resume, but:

• I’d be more interest in working as a contractor,
• Or as a consultant,
• Or on a special project for a few weeks to several months,
• And I’d need to telecommute,
• But I’d be happy to travel in on a regular basis.”

I’m not closing any doors. If a job-job came along that was just perfect (and had a sizable signing bonus), I would heavily consider it. As always, there is no definitive path…but there’s a helluva lot of excitement and possibility.

What about you? If you had your choice, would you go it alone or pull your chair up to a cubicle?

*I’m really not a pessimist. The other night, a loud truck with flashing lights woke me up in the middle of the night – my first and only thought was, why are they cleaning the streets at this hour? When, in fact and of course, it was a snowplow and we were in the middle of a snowstorm on March 1st. I think this is a sign of my deeply embedded optimism. (Which is why, for now, I’m putting my chips on Writing Roads.)

Image credit: Lokner

Reason 1020 to Hire a Copywriter or the Power of the Myth

So, I’ve been working on a copywriting project for a client whose business is travel. My assignment revolves around Egypt – so I’ve been bandage deep in mummies and pharaohs and tombs and Gods. And it’s all reminded me of something that I find fascinating: mythology.

For instance, there’s the myth of Isis. You see, the Ancient Egyptians believed that when the Nile flooded every year, it was just from the annual crying episode of Isis – the Goddess of Motherhood, Magic and Fertility (and by the way, whoever tied those three things together for her was frickin’ brilliant, right?) – as she mourned her husband Osiris.

As crops and lives were destroyed, the Egyptians were ‘apparently’ able to handle the devastation with a smack to the forehead, “Oh!” They would exclaim. “It’s just Isis again…and no one messes with a heartbroken woman.” Or so some might simplify and suppose.

It doesn’t have to be Egypt, every culture has these myths and they serve one main purpose (besides entertainment and education): myths provide a logical explanation for something that is illogical, out of our control or just terribly hard to understand or deal with. For instance, why the Nile floods every year causing destruction and death or why mosquitoes buzz in people’s ears or why the sun appears every morning and the moon rises every night. Ultimately, myths provide comfort.

Rolling the dice…so to speak

Imagine a product – not an extraordinary thing, but one that a lot of people are making – like a slot machine. Realize that people (maybe not all of them, but a lot of them) are confused by this machine just like they’re confused about the cycle of the ocean tides. They accept it, but they’re still thinking why? why do I need this? how does it work? why would I want to play? and possibly, will it help my crops grow? (Um, yes, if you win and the slot machine spits money out at you). Their reaction to all of this ‘not knowing’ might be fear, it might be trepidation, it might be avoidance.

But, you run a casino, so you don’t want them to respond with fear, trepidation or avoidance. You want them to enjoy and seek out the slot machine. Which is where the copywriter comes in. Copywriters are the creator of your slot machine myth. We write the story that makes all of those consumer people relax and say, “Oh! Now I get it! The slot machine has a logical purpose – there’s nothing to fear! In fact, what I just read made me feel so good and calm and in tune with the slot machine, I want to go play with one.”

We explain, we provide answers, we bridge, we soothe. Our myth is your story and the place of connection from consumer to product, client to service…and sometimes even ancient Egyptian to the Gods…

Image credit: Valerie