I cannot turn my brain off. At least once a week, I’m sitting at a stoplight and I see something – which makes me think of a project I’m working on. Next thing I know I’m off in la-la land figuring out how to make this idea work. Until the car behind me beeps. For anyone sitting behind me at the stoplight, I apologize. I just can’t help it!

Sort of like Doofenshmirtz can’t help but be a nice guy. He just can’t turn off the good amidst all his evil plots. And… if you don’t know who I’m talking about – then you MUST go watch Phinneas and Ferb. Not kidding. Disney genius.

Happy Friday!

My 7 year-old brought home his yearbook and I must say, I’m not sure who was more excited – him or me. He hopped in my car and said “Guess what?! I got my yearbook! Can we eat dinner then sit and look at it together?”

I practically owe my love for a solid concept to my days as a high school yearbook editor. We were a hands on crew, the yearbook staff. It was up to us to create the book that everyone coveted (or so we hoped). We wrote the stories, we did the layouts, we took the photos, we sold the ads. We were our own little ad agency, hiding in a class that I would have taken even if it didn’t count towards my high school graduation credits.

I had weaseled my way into the yearbook staff earlier than most of my classmates. And there’s one thing I learned early on – every year the senior staff members wanted to outdo the previous year’s book. So when it was my senior year… we went to a yearbook summer camp at UNC (not kidding). We went to New York to participate in a series of classes to improve our yearbook production skills (still, not kidding). We argued, fussed and fought over what concept made the best sense. And if someone missed a deadline, it was common to hear someone else shouting at the top of their lungs OH HELVETICA. (This WAS high school, you know). In the end, we wrapped my senior high school yearbook concept around the idea that our school was going through a lot of major changes. It was called In The Works and we somehow convinced our teachers to spend the extra money to die cut the cover with a hole where the O in Works was. A cover with a hole in it? We thought it was revolutionary.

I remember late nights putting together mock ups after my parents had gone to bed. The smell of rubber cement will always be with me. (Aging myself, aren’t I?) I remember writing stories about a club and hoping to get it just right. And I will never forget toting a camera around almost everywhere just in case I saw something that might need to make it into the book. But what I will never, ever forget is the day that books were delivered for everyone to pick up. That sense of pride will never leave me. And the looks of people’s faces as they pored over the content – every single second of work put into that book was worth it right then and there.

So… here’s the thing about yearbooks. They are more than a look back at your friends, your teachers, your clubs. It’s a snapshot in time. And it dawned on me today that companies could benefit from having a yearbook as well. Why leave the fun just for kids? Sure, I know what you’re thinking – companies have annual reports. And to that, I say – they’re just not the same. Others of you may be thinking that companies have internal blogs. Okay… that’s a little closer. But how often does one turn back the time to review a company blog? Not much. Which means – watch out Chernoff Newman. I might just have to get a yearbook committee together.

Which is harder – writing a speech or delivering it? I’m not really sure… having a teleprompter definitely helps on the delivery portion. But I must say as Barack Obama ended his speech Sunday night with the Pledge of Allegiance, I thought – nice move, writer. Justice should be the key message in the delivery of the message that Americans have been waiting to hear for nearly ten years – that Bin Laden had been captured and killed.

As I reluctantly turned off the TV amidst the flurry of coverage, I vaguely recollected that the President’s writer was young. And then I remembered that a few years back I got him confused with the other Jon Favreau – an indie film favorite of mine. (RUDY, RUDY, RUDY!) No, this writer  wasn’t the obnoxious husband Barry in the movie I Love You, Man… it was the younger and more poetic Jon Favreau who got the full-time gig post-election according to my least favorite source Wikipedia.

And if it was this Jon Favreau who did write Sunday’s speech, then I wanted the chance to say well done, dude. Because your ending crushed it.

Odds are if you’re a woman over 30, you’ve probably dieted sometime in your life. If you’re a man over 40, you’ve probably at least thought about dieting. Right? And here’s what we all know: its sucks. Cutting calories is hard. Giving up sweet goodness is not fun. But the benefit – being healthy – is totally worth it in the end.

The same can be said of writing terse copy. Yes, waxing poetically is one of those things that writers love to do. Proving your point three times seems to make your argument so much stronger. But here’s the thing – people want you to cut to the chase. Tell the story. And then get the hell out. Especially when writing for the web. And those newer tools like twitter updates and google & facebook ads don’t even give you a word limit – it’s a character count! Much like cutting calories – it sucks. But here’s the thing – I’ve come to look at it as a challenge. It makes me write and then self-edit. And in the end, I realize that I can get to the meat of the story in a succinct and satisfying way (without the sides and dessert). Which makes readers happy – and the sacrifice totally worth it in the end.

So… I recently read Chris Cleave’s Little Bee. It’s written from the point of view of two different women. I was shocked at just how good of a job he did at nailing not only one woman’s perspective, but two completely different women. It made me start thinking about advertising writing. Yes, it may be shorter and not so much about literary excellence, but it really is about the character. Good advertising almost gets it. Great advertising makes you think you’re watching or reading or hearing about a person.

Think about it – why does the most interesting man in the world really make you want to buy not only a Dos Equis but also sticker of him for your car? (Yes, it can be found at http://cgi.ebay.com/5-TMIMITW-The-Most-Interesting-Man-World-decal-/180656607568?pt=LH_DefaultDomain_0&hash=item2a0ff91150)

And why does the Green M&M get you all hot and bothered for some chocolate?

Because the writing is great. And clearly defined for the character who’s speaking for the product. Which means next time I’m writing an ad of any kind, I will challenge myself to make others guess if the ad was written by a woman or a man. Just like I did with Little Bee.

This note just in from the New York Times: “A truly random game of rock-paper-scissors would result in a statistical tie with each player winning, tying and losing one-third of the time. However, people are not truly random and thus can be studied and analyzed. While this computer won’t win all rounds, over time it can exploit a person’s tendencies and patterns to gain an advantage over its opponent.”

So… what does this have to do with writing? Everything! People are people. They can be studied, analyzed and taken advantage of. So do your research. Learn their behaviors. Then write for them. Intrigue them. Entice them. Just don’t treat them like a computer. Because I was about ready to snap this one’s rickety little right hand pinky finger off his hand for learning my ways and beating me at rock-paper-scissors.

Do you want to try? You can find the link (sent to me by Kim Jamieson) at: http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/science/rock-paper-scissors.html

HRP

I can’t claim that lovely little saying. It came from my pal Morgan Copeland. But at the heart of the phrase is the thought that writing should be done correctly… or should it? In my game of ad copy, the right way to write is how someone speaks. Which basically means… It’s awesome! As one of those girls who grew up a rule follower, this is one of the ways I get to bend and sometimes break the rules in my worn and loved (meaning aged) AP style book. Periods aren’t always needed. uppercase isn’t mandatory. (Maybe e.e. cummings was really a copywriter!) But what is always and forever important is the ability to connect with the viewer. Because remember, you’re talking like a person. And unless you’re one of those people who like to hear the sound of your own voice, it usually takes two to carry on a conversation. So… through this blog I intend to take a look the writing that’s going on out there in the ad world. And probably ramble a little bit about more than writing too (hey, I can do that, right?). Hope you stay intrigued.

HRP