No man is an island.

As I was updating my LinkedIn profile for recruiters and potential employers I began reflecting on the fact that nothing I’ve done throughout my career has been done on my own.

The headlines and copy I’ve written by myself only happened because of the great mentors, creative partners and supportive AEs and clients I’ve had. Pitching websites to clients and articulating why user behavior should drive design happened because I’ve learned from some incredibly talented UX/UI designers. Directing actors and getting their best performances in a booth or on a set happened because I was lucky enough to have worked with so many, much more talented directors than I am.

I’m humbled by and grateful for my past successes and I look forward to a bright future. I don’t know exactly what or where my next gig will be (that’s the nature of freelancing) but I know that I’ll approach it with the same curiosity, openness, passion and excitement I had when I got my very first assignment at my very first agency.

Just like I’ve done with every project since.

If you’ve got an opening for a freelance or full-time copywriter with a wealth of diverse experience and track record of success, I’d be thankful for your consideration.

Do it.

Sorry, clients, but there isn’t a magic formula for your advertising/marketing success. There isn’t a single Agency Process™ on the planet that works for every single brand every single time. And if you ever pick up a book on marketing that promises you a step-by-step approach will stimulate your brand growth, throw it in the dumpster fire.

Yes, part of what we do is science-based. Behavioral science, that is, and behavioral science is based upon experimentation. Analytics and data can help us predict behavior and give us some insights into what types of messages work best in what spaces and when, but people aren’t entirely predictable — our behaviors change as our circumstances change. We’re constantly evaluating and adapting and adjusting. As such, more often than not, we buy emotionally and then justify our purchase decisions rationally.

“It was cool. Plus, it was on sale.” 

Way back in 2003, Goodby, Silverstein & Partners produced one of the greatest automotive spots ever, in my opinion. The story goes that when the dealers saw the spot they hated it. It didn’t show the cars until the very end. Didn’t talk about the warranty. Didn’t talk about fuel efficiency. In other words, it didn’t follow the automotive advertising formula and, therefore, it didn’t fly with the dealers. However, the CMO of Saturn loved it and she ran it despite their objections. And every time the spot ran, visits to the dealerships increased. Yes, Saturn is no longer around. But it wasn’t the advertising from GS&P that killed that brand.

I recently saw a post on r/advertising where someone plugged a bunch of famous slogans into Grammarly and, predictably, few came out unchanged. Why? Because the slogans were written by people who understood that in order to stand out, they had to stand apart. To break free from convention. Free from same. Free from safe. To freely take risks

To think different.

Sorry, clients, there isn’t a magic formula for your advertising/marketing success. But if you keep doing and saying what every other brand in your category is doing and saying, keep following convention, keep minimizing emotion, you’re going to fail your brand. Guaranteed.

Redesigning the American flag. Reenergizing sales.

One career highlight for me so far has been pitching and winning AOR for Sun-Maid against agencies you’ve heard of while I was working at one you probably haven’t. As I led the creative teams and developed our creative approach, I also helped develop the brand and overall comms strategy for the pitch. A lot of great work was produced in a short amount of time by a lot of great people with the hope of winning a classic American brand.

When we got the call that we’d won the business, the agency erupted in celebration. Champagne and booze and pigs in a blanket flowed as we congratulated one another while letting out a collective sigh of relief. All of the late nights and teeth gnashing and hair pulling paid off. It was incredible news. It was pure joy.

And then a couple weeks later we got some bad news: Sun-Maid was putting it’s branding and packaging up for a separate review. Not because they didn’t think we could do it, they knew our design capabilities, but they were worried with all the other Sun-Maid work already on our plate that we wouldn’t have time to do it. I asked the client to be included in the pitch and they gave us a shot. Against design agencies you’ve heard of. And we won that work, too.

“If you redesign that little red box it’s like redesigning the American flag. Better be careful.”

Prior to jumping into designs, we conducted focus groups across the country asking people what they thought of the current branding and packaging and how Sun-Maid could change them to resonate better for millennial consumers. We heard all kinds of crazy stuff, as you typically do in focus groups, but that quote about the American flag stuck with me.

I remember sitting in the Sun-Maid war room in the agency one night, looking at hundreds of designs taped to the wall, and thinking about that quote. As I began the process of whittling down the options and preparing feedback for the ones moving forward, I couldn’t help but feel humility and gratitude. It’s not often you get asked to lead the redesign of a true American icon. And I knew that our approach needed to be evolutionary, not revolutionary.

Not only were the redesigns embraced by the design community, consumers embraced them, along with a new brand campaign, too. And for the first time in years, Sun-Maid saw positive sales in the raisin category.

Not bad work for a guy you’ve probably never heard of. Right?

Hello. And goodbye.

What I love about advertising isn’t the timesheets. It isn’t the cold pizza, goopy Chinese food or Cisco coffee at 2 o’clock in the morning. Day after day. Night after night. It isn’t the weekends that aren’t really weekends or annual postponed vacations. It’s not the egos or the politics or the drama that unfolds when they’re combined. It certainly isn’t the missed dinners, missed games, missed milestones.

What I love about advertising is the ads. Print ads. TV ads. Social ads. Digital ads. Ads that aren’t really ads, but really are ads. Whatever — it doesn’t matter. I love looking at them. I love listening to them. I love experiencing them. The only thing better, to me, is making them.

Which is why I’m done with advertising. 

Specifically, I’m done with the business of advertising. I’ll leave worrying about margins, employee churn rates and new business wins and/or losses to the agency Chief Operating Masochist. 

Me? I’m going to have fun. I’m going to focus on the work. Thinking and creating and writing and coloring and playing. Because there’s nothing better than coming up with something from nothing. Solving a brand or a business problem. Producing smart, conceptual, well-crafted advertising — in whatever form it takes.

Going freelance wasn’t an easy decision. I’ve been a full-time agency employee my entire career. But going through a pandemic hasn’t been easy, either, and so far I’ve made it and I’ve learned a lot about myself — about what’s most important to me both personally and professionally.

No doubt I’ll miss the free booze and foosball tables. The epic holiday parties and gossip that follows. I’ll miss being on a team that’s all in the same boat, all rowing in the same direction. Most of all, I’ll miss hanging out with other ad nerds and talking shop on a daily basis. But I’ve learned I can successfully create great work from home without sacrificing a large chunk of my life, or sanity. Should I miss agency life too much, as a freelancer, I can always set up shop in an agency conference room for an afternoon.

If you’re an agency recruiter or creative director in need of a freelance creative director/copywriter/art director, a marketing professional or business owner who needs support, or someone who just wants a fresh set of creative eyes on something, I’m available.

In praise of the one-off.

Print is dead. It’s been replaced by digital content, social content, liquid content, native content, paid content, endorsed content, influencer content, search content and any other NEW medium that houses content that our industry believes will make Millennials content to give up their virtual and real dollar bills. Or likes. Or shares. Or hearts. And if our content goes viral, even better.

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Don’t get me wrong — I love that we get to play with a bigger box of crayons. In fact, over the past few years I’ve done more digital than traditional advertising. And, being the tech nerd I am, I’ve loved every minute of it. Which is why, when something like a single print ad comes across my desk, I love working on that even more.

Print is personal. You don’t just download a template off the World Wide Web Super Information Highway, swap out a logo and a few photos, slug in some SEO-friendly copy and then call it a day. Creating a print ad is a much more intimate experience. At least, it is for me.

It reminds me that I don’t have a job; I have a craft. It reinforces my love for a well-written headline over a tweet. And it refuels my drive to make it back into the CA print annual.

Remember when getting in CA was a big deal?

For this Sauder’s Eggs print ad, I didn’t work with a partner. I was the writer, art director and designer. But not by choice. This ad was a freebie for a client quench was hoping to woo into a long-term relationship. It had to be done quickly and on the cheap. There wasn’t even a brief. And I loved every millisecond of the assignment.

More important, the prospective client loved the ad as presented. Not a single change was recommended or made. And I’m grateful to say, Sauder’s Eggs is no longer a prospective quench client. They’re a client. In part because of a one-off print ad that ran on the back cover of a B2B pub with less than 5,000 readers.

A print ad that also happened to take Gold in the 2016 Philadelphia Addy Awards.

So now we’re auditing Sauder’s current website, monitoring their social media channels, and developing their brand strategy that’ll soon inform their content strategy.

Not too shabby for the walking dead, huh?

Uh, yeah, I have a question. Or three.

I ask “why” a lot. In part because I’m inherently curious. One of the perks of being in advertising is that I’ve learned about things I otherwise wouldn’t if I were, say, a donkey rancher. And I love when I get to work in a category or on a product I haven’t before — it gives me the opportunity to learn new stuff.

I also ask “why” a lot because, in our business, I believe there’s always a better way to do everything. I’m constantly looking to improve my work and myself. So I question motives. Methods. Outcomes.

That’s not for everyone. Especially the “we’ve always done it this way” types.

People are fascinating, weird, wonderful creatures. We’re constantly in motion. We’re reinventing our world and ourselves faster than we ever have. The advances we’ve made in technology, engineering and science over the past 20 years — from the invention of the iPhone to the discovery of the “God Particle” — is mind-boggling.

I recently watched a show about the making of National Lampoon’s Vacation. Chevy Chase was talking about the scene in St. Louis and said when he asked everyone to roll up their windows, that if you look closely enough, his window didn’t really roll up. He faked the reeling motion so the camera could get a clean shot of him saying his line. My seven-year-old, even my thirteen-year-old, would have no idea what he was talking about. They press a button. It’s a different world.

So why does advertising remain, largely, the same?

Because not enough people ask “why.” Not enough people challenge. As fascinating, weird and wonderful as we are, we’re also creatures of habit. Creatures of comfort — we know what we know. Selling floor cleaner? Better show a sparkling floor and a mildly attractive woman with a smile on her face.

I think comfortable is boring. And believe boring doesn’t get a second glance. It isn’t given a second thought. Ever watch someone read a magazine? They flip right past the ads because they all look and sound the same. That’s especially true in trade pubs. Selling cattle feed? Better show a nutritious looking nugget and a mildly attractive cow with a smile on her face.

A former colleague said, “You’ve got to get comfortable with being uncomfortable.”

That is something I absolutely do not question.

Identity crisis?

I’m an art director. I’m a copywriter. A traditional creative. A digital creative. I’m in production, account service, account planning, public relations and traditional and social media.

I’m also in the minority.

Every time I see a classified ad for a digital art director, traditional copywriter, digital account planner, etc. I’m reminded that as much as our industry likes to talk about progressing beyond the conventional model, it is still largely built upon silos.

Don’t get me wrong; I believe our business needs specialists. But while specializing in one thing, they should know and be open to all things.

As an art director, I’d much rather spend my time kerning than programming. But I know enough about different platforms and technologies so I can have intelligent conversations with developers and programmers about bringing an idea to life. However, I wanted this site to look and function very simply, to not over-shadow the work, but to make it happen I had to write code. That’s not the important part; the important part is that I’m up enough on HTML to know what code needed to be written.

Can someone please explain to me why a “traditional” art director can’t design and layout a website or why a “digital” art director can’t design and layout a print ad? Anyone? While you’re at it, I’d also like to know what, exactly, is a digital copywriter. And digital creative director. Why can’t a social media or interactive campaign come from the mind of a “traditional” creative? It can. And it should.

The best time to be in this business is right now. Though, I felt the same way 5 years ago and the 5 years before that. I’m a geek for advertising and thus a geek for technology. I’m excited by all of the tools and toys we get to play with every single day — and the promise of more to come. Today it might be smartphone app or smartly executed board on Pinterest. But tomorrow? All I know is that I’ll keep my eyes and ears wide open. And my pencil finely sharpened.  

Yes, I still use a pencil. And that probably puts me in the minority as well.