Welcome to the long-gestating, yet still ill-conceived, AdHole. A sporadic diatribe about advertising, pop culture, media, politics, religion, wanton jackassery and the collision of all the above. Before I broach the AdHole’s first subject, a bit about the author. Which would be me:
I’m a dude.
Okay, for more background info you can check out /bioTableNew03.html. On with the words you won’t read anyway.
Today’s topic: “I’m not a writer…” “Well, I am. So shut your hole.”
Possibly the most common complaint amongst advertising creatives, aside from a profound lack of donuts and Frappuccinos®, is being treated as vendor as opposed to a professional. (Note that I say “professional” and not “marketing partner.” Feel-good, jargony, wonk-speak should be left for insecure, jargon-spouting wonks.) Writers, such as myself, and art directors are Professional Creative Individuals. You, Mr. or Ms. Client, hire us via the agency because, for whatever reason, you believe we know what we’re doing. So pipe down. If you don’t like a concept, that’s cool, that’s fine, we can handle it. But once you buy off on a concept, cut us some slack. When looking at a layout, think about all the things that work, not the two things that you think your boss might question. And ask yourself this: If I make this change, will it make the ad better or just more to my liking? If it’s the latter, move on. As my former AD partner Paul once said, “You’re not the target. Would you like to talk about Ayn Rand?” Same goes for creative directors. And account people. And other creatives. Point out flaws in strategy all day long. But if you’re picking apart my colon usage, then maybe your own colon needs a little cleansing.
Here’s the deal: You may have written on your high school paper. You might even have majored in journalism. Maybe your sense of color came in quite handy when painting the guest bathroom. Fine. If you can proffer comments based on these experiences in an intelligent manner, bring ’em on. We can cope with discourse. But for the love of Sasquatch don’t act like your hobby and our professions are the same thing. Everybody is NOT a writer. Everybody is NOT an art director.
The point is, most of us know what we’re doing. Some of us have been doing it for a long time for a lot of people at bigger companies than yours. (Sassy!) So please, just assume we know what we’re doing. And we promise to grant you the same courtesy.
Sorry to start the blogging off on such a banal rant, but I didn’t want to bust out of the expected blog mold too quickly out of the gate.
Fox
I’m a dude.
Okay, for more background info you can check out /bioTableNew03.html. On with the words you won’t read anyway.
Today’s topic: “I’m not a writer…” “Well, I am. So shut your hole.”
Possibly the most common complaint amongst advertising creatives, aside from a profound lack of donuts and Frappuccinos®, is being treated as vendor as opposed to a professional. (Note that I say “professional” and not “marketing partner.” Feel-good, jargony, wonk-speak should be left for insecure, jargon-spouting wonks.) Writers, such as myself, and art directors are Professional Creative Individuals. You, Mr. or Ms. Client, hire us via the agency because, for whatever reason, you believe we know what we’re doing. So pipe down. If you don’t like a concept, that’s cool, that’s fine, we can handle it. But once you buy off on a concept, cut us some slack. When looking at a layout, think about all the things that work, not the two things that you think your boss might question. And ask yourself this: If I make this change, will it make the ad better or just more to my liking? If it’s the latter, move on. As my former AD partner Paul once said, “You’re not the target. Would you like to talk about Ayn Rand?” Same goes for creative directors. And account people. And other creatives. Point out flaws in strategy all day long. But if you’re picking apart my colon usage, then maybe your own colon needs a little cleansing.
Here’s the deal: You may have written on your high school paper. You might even have majored in journalism. Maybe your sense of color came in quite handy when painting the guest bathroom. Fine. If you can proffer comments based on these experiences in an intelligent manner, bring ’em on. We can cope with discourse. But for the love of Sasquatch don’t act like your hobby and our professions are the same thing. Everybody is NOT a writer. Everybody is NOT an art director.
The point is, most of us know what we’re doing. Some of us have been doing it for a long time for a lot of people at bigger companies than yours. (Sassy!) So please, just assume we know what we’re doing. And we promise to grant you the same courtesy.
Sorry to start the blogging off on such a banal rant, but I didn’t want to bust out of the expected blog mold too quickly out of the gate.
Fox