What Is A "Copywriter"? An In-Depth Explanation.
Wisdom for Whippersnappers from an ancient copywriter.
I’ve been a paid, successful copywriter for about 35 years. Before the bullshit “Mad Men” show, the word “copywriter” seriously confused civilians. “So you write all the words and the art director does all the pictures?” “So, you work in law?” “So, you sell insurance?” “So, you’re not a real writer” (This is true.).
Sometimes I say, “Really, I’m what’s called a ‘creative’” — which clears up nothing and opens up 55-gallon barrels of Gippsland worms. “So, you think you’re an ‘artist,’ tricking us into buying shit we don’t need, right?” “Yes,” I say, defeated. And then I attempt to change the subject to the local sports teams.
Except in this fucking Millennium, there are now several more types of ad copywriters, who, for the most part, don’t do traditional copywriting—what us Old (School) CWs call “the creative process”—more barrels of worms. Much more on that “process” here.
There are: “content” copywriters (something that traditional copywriters have been doing for years, without the meaningless title); “digital” copywriters (it only means they work at digital agencies or work on online ads/copy, which us geezer CWs also do — so meaningless word); “in-house” (client) copywriters (zero comment); and “native” ad copywriters, many who are journalists or ex-journalists who think they’re better at writing persuasive copy (LOL, Ivy Boy) than us real CWs. There are more types of copywriters, but this paragraph is already too long.
OK, to the questions I’ve received over the years about being a copywriter:
What do copywriters do on a daily basis?
I can only answer for the real, successful copywriters, but this (was) a typical (office) Monday: We missed the dreary 10 a.m. status meeting by creatively slipping out of the office and not answering our phones.
Lunch was the most important first order of every day. And even if we were eating at our desk, that didn’t mean we were working yet — so leave us alone, junior AE client butthole sucker. Yeah, that’s right, go run to the creative director and tell on us, you gutless baby (sorry, bitter memories took over for a sec).
Somewhere in afternoon, we’d get together with our art director and scan the next brief. Me, I have mostly “concepted” with talented ADs that I developed an understanding with.
Let's say the brief was for a new fast internet service, with ideas due in a week—I know, nobody gets a week anymore, just play along. When I was a young non-alcoholic learning my "craft" at New York City's School of Visuals Arts, I would spend every free moment eagerly working on my weekly assignments.
Once in the real world, I amended the process a bit.
The first couple of days, I’d work on my blog, read blogs, do some visual thinking (porn). Along the way, we’d bang out some terrible first-thought lines and ideas. We’d leave before 5 (to get a good table) via the Irish goodbye and go shoot some pool. (I’m pretty good, I’ll hustle your ass.) While shooting, I’d involuntarily think about the assignment.
Two days before the presentation, the creative director would stroll into our office and ask, "Whatta you guys got?" I'd say, with fake confidence, "A couple of good things brewing that ain't ready to be looked at yet." My response never varied much.
After they’d left, I’d anxiously turn to my art director and ask them "Whatta you got?" They’d say, "A couple of hot things cooking, not quite ready to...."
Panic! We’d both then dive into back issues of Communication Arts and Archive and look for good "fast" ideas to alter just enough to avoid plagiarism charges. We’d also type "fast" (or whatever) into The Google and scroll like our careers depend on it.
If none of the above worked, I’d resort to lame wordplays ("surf fstr"—see, it's so fast we had to remove the vowels!) which then forced my pissed-off art director to do all the work and pull visuals and layouts out of their ass. (I’d half-heartedly help with the visual thoughts.)
Repeat every week, as needed.
NOTE: The in-office shit of course doesn’t apply to remote creatives (Ive been remote for 5+ years), but you need that attitude that says ‘I don’t just belong here, you’re lucky to have me”, complete with a lack of respect for the “other” side of the business that’s never made an ad in their fucking life. Except strategists. They are valuable. Creatives, for the most part, have lost that asshole swagger; thanks Millennials! It’s OK to be an asshole, just don’t cross the line into (sexist, racist, etc.) douchebag.
Wow, you are an asshole. So then why are copywriters considered so important to the agency?
Because our Ideas keep the toilets flushing. We are word hummingbirds, able to deftly turn and twist language to fit perfectly into small spaces. Need a concept explained in 10 words? We’ll do it in six. Ivy Boy will give you 36. We make bank copy sing. We write headlines that make people click links. We make brands sound and look a thousand times smarter than they are.
CLIENT INTERLUDE
Speaking of brands, clients, for the most part, don’t know their ads from a hole in the ground. But because they’ve been presented to a few times, they all think they’re Bill Bernbach, even if most of them don’t know who BB is. I’ve encountered every one of the below fucking assholes:
OK, sorry to question your existence. Is freelance copywriting lucrative?
Yes, if you’re very good and under 45. If you’re older, well, get good at begging and diplomacy. In-house studios and branching-out PR firms and “cagencies” are looking for help from experienced (again, under 45) creatives. Just be prepared to be sent the vaguest briefs (or no brief) you’ve ever read and be ready to “tweak” videos that look like they were created by the worst ad school student taking their first “stab” at video. But you gotta hold your fire, and swallow a shit-ton of shit.
What advice do you have for recent ad school copywriter grads?
Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, HA. That’s my advice. OK, you wanna do creative work, right? Your best shot at doing that is still at the known “creative” agencies. Think up some way to get your portfolio in front of a CD’s eyes. Buy a billboard, pretend you’re a delivery person (these have already been done), send him (if it’s a “him”) a link with a creative porn subject line. ( I could give you many examples, but you’d have to pay me.)
Once you have the job, keep your head down, and work late more often than not. That’s all I got. Good luck, the business is a swamp of shit.
Outro: Experience used to matter more when hiring a creative. It doesn’t much now. Experience = old = has been = out-of-touch = we’ll get back to you. Even if you’re ideas are better, even if you’re cheaper. You’re loss, ageist fuckers.