Ever wondered what happens to frustrated novelists and screenwriters?
They become copywriters.
Or maybe it’s the other way around.
Having been there, done that and been all three, at times concurrently, it usually is the other way around.
In my entire 30-year career in the marketing commnications and training arena I only met one copywriter who didn’t aspire to writing a novel or a screenplay.
And he committed suicide last year. I kid you not.
I hired that kid, way back when. Trained him. He was spectacularly talented. But he had no dream.
Somewhere in that chaos of psychology and pain there is a dotted line connection having to do with the definition of happiness. It’s more about learning to love what you do — to find value and purpose — when you can’t do what you love.
Maybe he just didn’t love anything anymore. He ran out of dreams.
Count your blessings. Maybe you’re not published yet. But I’m guessing you love what you do as you try.
You write. Give that dream, and yourself, a great big hug.
Once in a while I can see the inner storyteller peeking out from behind the narrative of an edgy piece of ad copy. Like that recent kickass Old Spice commercial. I first saw that in a movie theater, blogged about it that night, and a month later — with no connection whatsoever — it won the Best Television Commercial award at some fancy banquet.
Not long ago I saw another such example in a theater.
I usually resent having to watch what would otherwise be a television commercial prior to the previews, but some of them are worthy of the venue by the sheer virtue of their genius or depth. Which are not always bed buddies.
This one was for — go with me here, don’t judge — a video game. Really.
I don’t play video games, which may or may not make me lame in your eyes. But I do know a great piece of copy when I read it or hear it properly rendered, and this one spoke to me. Because it reeks of a closeted novelist sitting in a cubicle conducting her or his day job.
It doesn’t matter what happens visually, or even what the product is. Because the message is universal to storytellers.
Here’s the script.
The past is not a memory. It is a force at my back.
It pushes and steers.
I may not always like where it leads me.
But like any story, the past needs resolution.
What is past is prologue.
Learn more about how to make the dream come true here.