As published in adage.com

The young copywriter’s portfolio was so heavy we were both laughing as we struggled to get it up onto my table. It broke the ice for the interview. I was in my first creative director job and was probably more nervous than her.

She unsnapped the locks and raised the top. Inside were two stacks of plastic-coated print ads. The lamination was the thick kind, with felt backing, which explained the weight of her portfolio. But nothing could explain the first piece I reached for, an ad for The Economist.

“Read what the world is coming to before it gets there.”

I stood there, eyes widening at the headline and the illustration of planet Earth with little hands reading the magazine.

“Nice,” I said. “You came up with this?”

“Yes.”

“Body copy too?”

“All of it.”

The room was getting hotter. I asked how she’d arrived at the idea. Perfectly assured, she told me she was impressed by The Economist’s record of foretelling business and political trends.

We never got past this first ad. I kept asking question after question. I was fascinated by someone who would present as her own work the very ad I had created at another agency three years before.

Thirty years later, this improbable moment of catching a thief red-handed still makes my blood boil. What gets me is less that she misrepresented herself, but that she stole my originality.

What we should aspire to

For those of us who ply the advertising and communications trade, originality is crucial to what we do. It’s the big idea. The thought no one’s ever thought before. The holy shit moment that sends a smile spreading through your whole body. It’s the sensation your audience feels up their spine.

Trends and technologies come and go, but originality stands eternal. It is what we should aspire to. Sadly, most of us settle for the familiar, the comfortable, the less-than-original.

I say this to today’s young creatives who, with mentoring in such scarce supply in our industry, question their own purpose and why their job isn’t more satisfying.

Here’s the answer: Your job is to see it like no one’s ever seen it before, to say it like no one’s ever said it before.

There are talented writers and art directors who have entire careers, make lots of money, and never achieve a single original creative thought. And then there are some like legendary art director Helmut Krone who seem to have done it every time they got up to bat. Their work is fresher than most of the work you see today.

Mindblowing, isn’t it, how an original thought can stand the test of time? Two examples:

• Despite its hype as the best advertisement ever made, Apple’s “1984” commercial is still, 30 years later, a potent vision.

• While many have tried to capture the essence of this unique business newspaper, no one’s ever done it like Fallon’s Tom McElligott in the 90s: “The Wall Street Journal. The daily diary of the American dream.”

Saul Bellow once described a writer as “a reader who is moved to emulation.” This is true not only for writers but for all artists. But emulation does not necessarily mean imitation. It means inspiring you to your own heights of originality. This takes fierce ambition and a competitive spirit. It is not for the faint of heart.

That is why I am put off by artists in advertising — and film, music and other arts — who readily admit that their work was “inspired by” some other work. That was fine to confess in Shakespeare’s day, when audiences appreciated similarities to admired classical works. But Romanticism made originality a Western cultural ideal, and Romanticism is still going strong.

If you’re going to steal

“Inspired by?” Really? Aren’t you just saying you appropriated someone else’s idea and made it into yours? And we’re all okay with that? And okay with tracing the concept of an ad back to the creative team who thought nothing of clicking through award show web sites for “inspiration”?

If you’re going to steal, steal from the best and conceal your sources. That’s time-honored advice, if stealing is your thing.

Not quite stealing, but almost, is the art of building on approaches that have proven successful in the past. Some risk-averse clients get assurance from having lots of precedents, as though this were not advertising but constitutional law.

Doing what no one’s done before

But if you’re going to be authentic in your life, there is nothing like the kickass feeling everyone gets when you can break free of all those “best practice” restraints and do something so original it seems to have come hurtling out of nowhere.

Remember that hilarious feeling the first time you saw the fast-talking man in Ally & Gargano’s classic Fedex commercial? If you haven’t seen it in a while, go. It’s a startling demonstration of how to vault to the top of the category in one entertaining message.

I could go on. From the Old Spice man to Geico’s pre-roll “Unskippable” to the concept of showing real women in beauty and cosmetics ads for Dove — to name only three from the last decade — there’s a breathtaking history of originality that offers something to emulate.

Plus, you can afford to. Being original doesn’t require an expensive canvas. You can have an original idea in a modest radio spot or a simple banner ad. One of my all-time-favorite frugal ideas was done by Scali McCabe Sloves in the 80s: A newspaper ad promoting a high-speed Nikon lens. The shot: a grainy blur that appeared to be a missile caught in mid-air. The headline: “Faster than a speeding bullet.”

Let’s face it. Given the time- and emotional pressure we’re under, it’s hard enough coming up with a good idea, let alone a great one. An original idea stands at the outer extremity.

It may happen by chance. It may happen when you’re so exhausted from trying that you’ve stopped searching. But it’s a game changer. You will have enriched our industry and your career. You will have created something truly worth stealing.

As published in adage.com

Growing up in Queens the cool kids didn’t greet each other with “Hi.” They said, “What’s the story?”

So imagine how jazzed we were when a popular TV campaign for a New York appliance store opened up with an announcer shouting, “Hey Jerry, what’s the story?”

We’re forever learning about new formulas for sales success. But nothing can beat a formula that has conflict, characters you care about, escalating excitement and a satisfying ending.

The story is the single most motivating sales technology known to advertising.

No one likes being told what to think. That’s why no one likes straightforward selling. But storytelling is different. It’s a form of gameplaying you willingly give yourself over to. It provides a seductive way around our mental pay wall, beguiling the rational self by making a pleasurable emotional connection with the brand.

News, drama, people you love, hate, sympathize with – the story has it all. And we’re wired for it. Think of all the bedtime stories you were read, all the cable series you’ve binge-watched. Think of Chinatown, On the Waterfront, The Shining, City Lights and hundreds of memorable films. Our mind nestles into stories like a head into a pillow.

Watch this spot for the French cable channel Canal+: It has a compelling narrative arc. Starting in medias res, the action grows more outrageous, leading to a denouement that makes you realize the whole thing was a demonstration of the quality programming Canal+ offers. The brand message is so deftly woven in you absorb it without blinking.

Or take this end-of-the-world tale from Jose Cuervo: The brand message is carpe diem, but the way this story tells itself, that ancient advice is strikingly contemporary and weirdly moving.

What makes these stories work? A combination of empathy and chemistry. As we watch our protagonist try to overcome his situation, tension rises and our brain secretes dopamine, so at the brand reveal we feel rewarded and hopeful.

Stories activate our brain’s language processing centers, sensory cortex, motor cortex and any other areas we use when reacting to the events in the narrative. As viewers, we share the emotions of the characters and turn the story into our own experience.

It’s been said there are no new stories, just new ways of telling them. This spot for The Guardian shows how one of our fundamental stories might be treated by contemporary media: As the news swiftly unfolds from front-page headlines to social media discussions to the nasty revelation that the villains are actually the three little pigs, we see just how The Guardian shows all sides of the story.

In the words of a YouTube viewer, “If this were a movie I’d watch the shit out of it.” Headlong suspense, being unable to stop watching or listening – these are critical to storytelling. Smart marketers know the longer your prospect is involved with your message, the better the chance of being persuaded and taking action.

Print media was once a home for beautifully crafted storytelling ads. With declining readership the venue has shifted. Today it’s about seeing how close we can come to spending nothing on our advertising.

Century 21 realtors did just that by taking advantage of a well-known story. Instead of running a costly commercial on the media event finale of “Breaking Bad,” they listed the actual Albuquerque house that Walter White owned on Craigslist. This singular image calls up many memories of the series, putting every “Breaking Bad” fan right in the center of the action. Such pennywise ingenuity gave Century 21 over 80 million impressions and gave fans an unforgettable experience.

One particularly successful brand trend has been immersive story experiences.

Last year, Manhattan’s iconic Carnegie Deli, which closed in 2016, was reincarnated for the second season premiere of “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel.” Every detail of this popup store, from décor to food to prices, screamed 1958, when the series takes place.

Stories have always been at the heart of myth, which is what our greatest brands are built on.

In an era without a national myth we can all agree on, along comes Colin Kaepernick: “Believe in something, even if it means sacrificing everything.” With this tweet Nike launched its new campaign based on the story of the man who brought attention to racial inequality through the NFL kneeling movement. What better way to bring attention to the values behind “Just do it” than with real stories of athletes who did just that?

What’s the secret to the best stories? Confounding expectations. Whether it’s butchering the star in the first act of “Psycho” or not explaining the hyper-passionate runners until the very last moment of this classic spot, being surprised violates our expectations and gives us a visceral jolt. Couple this with your message and your message hits deep.

Want stronger creative? Find the story in what you’re selling. It’s a time-tested persuasion system, as deeply human and inventive as you are.

AdForum.com recently interviewed IPNY Founding Partner and Creative Director Bruce Lee

Bruce Lee opens up about what it’s like to be a copywriter

How did you get your start as a copywriter and what inspired you to pursue it as a career?

Money and stimulation. I was working for American Express as a speechwriter. Despite my three-piece suit I couldn’t raise a family on what I earned. Desperate, I entered a copywriting contest in the New York Post and won a job writing direct mail for Ogilvy & Mather. It paid a better salary, and its lessons in psychology, imagination and the freedom to experiment with ideas and language continues to pay off to this day.

How much has the role changed since you joined the industry? Do you think the craft has suffered because of these changes?

It’s ironic. I joined the ranks of copywriters when advertising used interruption as a way to get your attention. The logic was, If you interrupt a print reader or a TV viewer with your advertisement, you reward them for their time with a bit of entertainment. That’s why so many ads would surprise you, shock you, make you chuckle or give you something to think about. In those days, succinctness and felicity of language were prized; a creative “concept” was the order of the day; and copywriters were industry stars.

Today interruption’s faded. Digital media has given the customer the tools to determine how they’ll spend their time – to read or view anything they’re interested in, even if it’s an advertisement. You’d think more copywriters would say, “Yeah, especially if it’s an advertisement!” and twist their brains to serve up thrilling, impossible-to-ignore vehicles for their brand messages. So where are these? I’ve looked for them and not found that many examples where a human insight intersects with technology to deliver a breathtaking brand experience.

And today’s star copywriters: Where are they? Who are they? The best work is still stuff that could have been done in the 90s. With some exceptions it seems like the need to move people, to find that emotional beauty, is absent from the work. Then again, this is still a new moment in our business, and we may taking the time to find our feet. Recall how many decades it took for TV advertising to get its act together. I’m impatiently hopeful.

What set of skills do you believe it takes for a copywriter to thrive in the current advertising landscape?

I didn’t mean to savage our industry in that last answer, but I am disappointed in so much of the creative I see these days. The skills that will save us are the same ones that go into making a great copywriter. You need to be one part art director – showing is as important as telling – just as a great art director needs to be one part copywriter. You need to be able to express your thoughts in words, but not just any words. Words that are passionate and imaginative because they’re in the service of a bold idea. A great copywriter is a conceptualizer first. And the ability to develop several more bold ideas after you’ve come up with your first one – that’s what separates the great from the someday great.

Where do you seek inspiration that helps you in your craft?

I’m still learning the craft. But when I was starting out I studied the creative annuals. They were an infallible guide to great work. Today there’s Vimeo and YouTube and other services to study contemporary commercials, videos, film, TV. It’s all there for you. I also read a lot of fiction, history and biography. I talk to people. I listen to music. I experience art. I travel. I look around. Creative thinking is a random process and you never know where inspiration will come from. Just stay open and keep feeding your mind and your heart.

What’s the most challenging aspect of the job? What helps keep the work interesting for you?

Not one will admit to this, but many clients are opposed to original ideas. They applaud them once they see them succeed for someone else in the marketplace, but they’re more comfortable with an idea that doesn’t challenge them as much. For me the challenge is to psych out this client, to anticipate what worries them and to deliver an idea that answers every possible objection and is still breakthrough. This challenge keeps the work interesting, as does the opportunity to solve problems in categories I’ve never worked in.

Is there a part of the role that you feel is often misunderstood?

Aside from the annoying word “copywriter,” which sounds like outdated newspaper-ese from “The Front Page”, the hardest part of the copywriter’s job is persuading a customer to try your client’s product or service. And it’s the part that most copywriters run from in favor of getting eyes, clicks, views, impressions. Call it what you will, quick hits are not the same as providing a persuasive argument for why your customer should take a chance on your client. It’s about changing someone’s mind, not just getting them to look up. A copywriter is a strategic thinker and there are building blocks to making a persuasive argument. There’s the need to make people engage, feel, understand, and care, and all this has to be balanced and measured. There’s a difference between someone who writes copy and being a real copywriter.

What advice would you give to young copywriters who’ve just entered the business?

Be of good cheer. Don’t let the negatives get you down. It’s not all victory parties for your work. There will be occasions when you’ll have to get up off the floor and start fresh. Learn to do that with grace. This is still a better job than almost anything else you can do. And most people can’t do it.

AdForum.com recently interviewed IPNY Founding Partner and Creative Director Jill McClabb

“The industry is still a good ol’ boys club but women are beginning to break through the glass ceiling.”

Tell us about your role at IPNY:

As one of the five founding partners at IPNY, I feel very fortunate to be doing what I love everyday. Beyond my overall responsibilities as a Creative Director, I also oversee all of IPNY’s production, including anything from print to video. Building an agency from the ground up is a dream come true, but it means having to wear many different hats.

How did you first get into the industry? What was it like then versus now?

While pursuing a bachelor of fine arts the University of Texas, it became quickly apparent that I could be headed for a life as a starving artist or find another way to use my talent. So I began taking advertising/design/photography classes and discovered that the challenge of these art forms was exhilarating. Upon graduation I moved to New York, because at the time that was the place to be. And I’m still here.

Over the last decade or two the advertising industry has gone through dramatic changes, with digital being the biggest driver. Early in my career, the goal for every art director was a fantastic print campaign, now print is less and less a part of our business. OOH is still thriving as is TV but you have to be on top of digital innovation.

What are some of the challenges that women still face in the industry?

The industry is still a good ol’ boys club but women are beginning to break through the glass ceiling. When I first started in the business, women were not allowed to work on cars or beer accounts. Fortunately that has changed but there are still a lot of barriers to attaining top ECD roles at agencies. Some of it’s driven by clients and some by senior executives at agencies.

Tell us about a project or initiative you are working on. What do you hope to ultimately achieve?

We are working with a very exciting client that is focused on the issues surrounding the First Ammendment. The organization’s goal is to encourage civil discourse, as a way to move conversations away from hate reteroic. Additionally, we are looking to educate and inform citizens about what the first amendment means, so eveyone can live their freedoms more fully. What a grand project to work on! Nice to meld advertising with “for good”.

How does your office culture support women and creativity?

Despite having four other male partners, I can honestly say gender never plays any part in our decision making. We hire people by their talent, not their sex. I actually think advertising has been more welcoming to women than most businesses.

What professional achievement are you most proud of?

Launching The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society brand six years ago. They were an unknown charity at that time. But they did fantastic work in the area of blood cancer, both in terms of funding research and supporting people with the disease. The campaign launched with the line “Someday is Today” which perfectly captured the hope that defines cancer research today.

How do you plan to inspire the next generation of women?

The best way to inspire is to continue to do good work. Women have no where to go but up!

AdForum.com recently interviewed IPNY Founding Partner and Creative Director Jill McClabb as part of the Women in Advertising series

PERSPECTIVES: WOMEN IN ADVERTISING 2018, JILL MCCLABB

“If you’re in a position to hire a woman, hire her. That said, she better be as good as the man that’s competing for the same job. The point of the movement is that we are as good as the men, just give us a chance, not a break.”

Tell us about who you are and what your job title is?

I’m a partner in an agency with four other partners. One of the best parts about my role is that I actually do the work and help clients, including some nonprofits, that I feel passionate about. It is refreshing after spending years at global agencies as a Group Creative Director, where my role was managing the creative process and most of my time was spent in meetings as opposed to creating.

Was there a job you had at one point, outside of advertising, that prepared you most for success later in life?

I can’t think of a specific job, but I think my love of dogs and horses has helped make the most of work life. For one thing, you have to have a life. Working all the time doesn’t give you time for creative inspiration. Walking your dog generates more ideas than staring at four walls in the office. Also, animals teach you to live in the moment, not in the past, allowing time to contemplate what might be.

What do you see as being the biggest change in the advertising industry since women have begun to break the “glass ceiling”?

The biggest change is opportunity. When I started in the business, there were many types of accounts you’d never be put on as a woman, like beer or automobiles.

From Like A Girl to Fearless Girl, a raft of advertising campaigns have set out to empower women. How do you feel about these campaigns? Can they change attitudes within the industry?

Anything that helps empower women is a good thing. I think the “Fearless Girl” campaign was a brilliant idea and was an incredible success for the client. That said, the “Like A Girl” campaign did more to make people see differently in a groundbreaking way, like the first Dove campaign or the Nike women campaign that broke in the 90’s. Little girls have been hearing the “Like A Girl” phrase for a long time and felt deflated. Hopefully these campaigns will make some of them feel differently.

How have the recent #MeToo and #TimesUp movements played out in the advertising sector? Are they making a significant impact?

Of course. The advertising business has been just as abusive to women as Hollywood. I knew many women who were put in horrible situations with no recourse. If they accused their accusers, they would never get a job again. Sleeping with your creative director was one sure fire method to get the plum assignments. In the end the blame should sit with the creative director, not the young woman, who is just starting out and easily influenced by their mentor.

Initiatives such as Free The Bid are trying to create more opportunities for women in advertising. But what could be done at a more grass roots level to attract women in the first place?

Practice what you preach! If you’re in a position to hire a woman, hire her. That said, she better be as good as the man that’s competing for the same job. The point of the movement is that we are as good as the men, just give us a chance, not a break.

Can you reflect on a mentor that helped guide you in your career and tell us what made them special?

I’m very lucky in that my mentor is also my business partner, Bruce Lee. I worked for Bruce at three different agencies: Ammirati & Puris, Wunderman and Ogilvy. Every assignment, no matter the size, he always approached with the highest creative standards. He also treated everyone fairly and gave everyone opportunities. The true test of a creative director is not just the awards they have won, but the number of people who will come back to work for them again.

How do you as a successful woman plan to inspire the next generation of women? In a few words, what advice do you have for women entering the advertising industry?

The best inspiration is doing. My advice for women entering the business is to stay on top of technology and always be learning. It’s important for creative people to understand new stuff as it debuts, learn to use it, figure out how to sell it, etc. Understanding how our world is changing on a human level due to advances in technology is critical for someone in communications. Look at the amazing response to the NRA recently, or the outrage over Facebook’s abuse of people’s information.

As published in fastcompany.com written by David Zax

It was when Bruce Lee was working on the bent-penis project that he started to wonder about the direction of his career. It was 2011. Lee, an adman who happens to share a Kung Fu master’s name, had opted to go freelance in recent years, which had proven lucrative enough. But the projects were frustrating.

He was rounding 60 and had already had a big career. His fondest memories were perhaps of his time at Scali, McCabe, Sloves, where he’d spent three years in the ’80s as creative director; it was the place where he recalled being consistently rewarded based on craftsmanship and the quality of the work. He went on to a series of other executive creative director gigs at major agencies like Wunderman and OgilvyOne.

In the late 2000s, Lee decided to try his hand at freelancing. He’d always envied the high-priced freelancers he’d used to hire himself. He teamed up with an old colleague named Jill McClabb. But by the time they got the bent-penis assignment, the bloom was off the rose.

It wasn’t that the subject matter failed to interest. Quite the opposite: Lee had become quite invested in the project, which raised awareness around Peyronie’s disease (and “it’s not funny–it’s terrible,” says Lee). Rather, it was that as a freelancer for hire, he didn’t have any power. He didn’t have control. He did good, creative work, and the people who hired him picked it to death; the work never even ran.

“They’d pick at little things in the creative, and pretty soon there’s no more creative left,” recalls Lee.

After a particularly frustrating meeting, he walked back to the narrow room reserved for freelancers. (In earlier phases of his career, he’d had big, grand offices. Now he shared cramped quarters with McClabb and three other freelance teams.) That was when it hit him.

He looked at McClabb and said, “How would you feel if we started our own agency, and didn’t have to deal with this bullshit anymore?”

Soon enough, they started thinking about other people to call. They thought about Andy Semons.

By 2011, Semons was in his early 50s, and also at a frustrating moment in a long ad career.

Semons is a “third-generation ad brat,” he says (his father and grandmother were both in the business), “born to be in the business.” He started his career at agencies like Grey and McCann, then spent long stretches of time at DDB and Ogilvy (where he met Lee).

Those first years were great fun, but after that, he had a disappointing series of experiences. “Everywhere I went from Ogilvy on,” he recalls, “it was always one year after a major acquisition by a holding company.” The environments were stifling. He spent the late 2000s bouncing around a few different agencies, landing at G2. Then, in April 2011, G2 let him go.

So Semons went to see an advertising recruiter, well known in the business–“she’s kind of like a Mama Rose type from Gypsy,” he says. But as the meeting wore on, Mama Rose said something frustrating.

“‘This is the way it’ll go,’” he recalls her saying. “‘I’ll find you a $300,000-$350,000 a year job, but you’ll be in a meeting and you’ll say something someone doesn’t like. And they’ll be looking to cut costs later, someone will remember what you said, and you’re gonna be calling me again.’”

“I was pissed off,” Semons recalls of the meeting. “I was like, ‘Are you telling me, at this point in my career, when I’ve done some of the greatest work, and my skills are so good…that I’m kind of washed up?’” He fumed as he walked away from the meeting. Is she telling me old people have no place in this business? He thought. I just don’t believe that!

Meanwhile, recalls Lee, he kept hearing the same thing again at again at agencies. “You’re not a digital native,” people told him.

Semons chimes in: “That was secret code for saying, ‘You’re old.’” Both felt a new techno-rhetoric had come to serve as a fig leaf for ageism.

It took another year or so for the idea of forming their own shop to fully coalesce.

Semons, Lee, McClabb, and a fourth adman named Joe Dessi would regularly go out to eat at an Italian restaurant in the Flatiron called SD26. The gang reached out to former contacts, and soon they had a lead: One former client had become the senior marketing director at the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. The woman had been tasked with sourcing a “brand film,” a seemingly small job.

Semons went in to speak with the marketing director about this brand film. Well, asked Semons, what does your brand stand for? The marketing director couldn’t answer succinctly. Soon, she gave Semons and the others access to the entire C-suite of the organization, where they conducted in-depth interviews and learned precisely what the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society did.

“Before you knew it, we had put together a really solid pitch, with a creative manifesto and everything else,” recalls Semons. “This ‘give us a brand film’ assignment became an agency-of-record assignment.” They wound up redesigning the website, making print, TV, and radio campaigns. And without middle management picking apart their ideas, they worked fast, too.

“The work swept through the entire company,” says Lee. “Donations went up by 50%,” says Semons.

Their new agency had to have a name. They called it Interplanetary.

Interplanetary has grown over its four years of existence (a fifth partner, Chris Parker, works remotely from Idaho), but remains a small agency. It has had just six clients to date, and currently only four active ones. Lee and Semons say that after years at big agencies hunting big game, they prefer working with modestly sized clients. “When you work with clients” of a smaller size, says Semons, “you work with them as if you’re on their staff. You have access to the whole C-suite. It becomes a richer, more integrated experience.”

Interplanetary did “around $5 million” in revenue last year, says Semons. “None of us are making the big, huge salaries we were making at the big shops, but we’re keeping the lights on quite nicely,” he says. (They have around 25 people in their employ, mostly consultants on contract.) They aim to double in size, “but none of us ever want to get so big that we can’t be as involved in doing the work as we actually are. What we love to do is make ads. We love the business of advertising. I don’t think any of us want to get so big that we can’t do that anymore.”

The partners have at last put together a new phase to their career where they’re rewarded again for the quality of their work. And they don’t have to constantly be looking over their shoulders. Lee says in his executive creative director jobs from his past, he got so used to thinking, “Where’s the knife gonna come from today?” that he didn’t even notice that it was the first thought that filled his mind when he woke up.

Now that he’s a partner in his own shop, that worry has gone away. “I do not think about it anymore,” he says peacefully. “I think about work, or I think about what I think about.”