Posts Tagged ‘martha porter-fiszer’

Words to Save Humanity

Friday, May 7th, 2010

Okay, for some reason I’m obsessed with doomsday. I often fantasize about being one of only a handful of people left in the world. No government. No society. No formal anything really. It’s our job to start all over again. All we have are a few remaining buildings, some partially stocked grocery stores and our own moral compasses to guide us. Sort of like the survivors of the super flu outbreak in Steven King’s The Stand.

This morning I was thinking about my value as a member of that new society. What could I contribute? I’ll spare you the myopic details. But I do invite you to play along with my imaginings.

Give one skill you possess that would be useful in the rebuilding of society. It could be physical, analytical, interpersonal, whatever — it’s up to you. The point is, put your abilities in a saucepan and reduce them down to their simplest form.

Here’s mine:  Communication — big picture.

Come on, share. Then we’ll go loot the Dominicks.

Are Your Briefs Filled With Crap? Here’s how to clean them up.

Tuesday, June 16th, 2009

Few things in advertising are as certain as this: You give a writer and an art director a pile of poop and you’ll get one back. With a logo and some supers on it.

From conference rooms to cubicles to corner offices throughout advertising land, well-meaning agency teams are short-sheeting their clients with short-sighted input documents. Needless to say the result is a tragic waste of money and talent.

As a writer-for-hire, I get handed a lot of sow’s ears with the expectation for silk stockings in return. There are myriad reasons why stinky briefs are the norm. Mostly these have to do with the current state of the workforce: lack of mentoring, poor staffing, shrinking budgets and whiplash turnaround times. But those are topics for another day.

The purpose of this crafty blog is to help inspire more powerful messaging and imagery– with a few insights from a writer who has lots of mileage on her keyboard and loads of experience receiving, and occasionally giving back, yes that’s right – crap. If you are an agency creative, please forward this to your favorite offender. If you are a newbie account type, take notes.

So, here we go: A very brief look at how to avoid writing a sucky brief. Part One.

Tell me the assignment
For the love of Leo, give your creative team a deliverable. Give the art director something better to do with her time than scouring BlueFly for new Dior shades. Create a campaign. Write a brochure. Design a website. These are assignments. If you have absolutely no idea what media to ask for, you’re not ready to start creative execution.

Get busy with the objective (aka the desired outcome)
Your objective should state an action, preferably the one that you want your customer to take. Buy two rolls. Log on for reservations. Feel smart and sexy.

Please don’t tell me our objective is to Create a communications vehicle that increases sales. This is the grand canyon of goals. Send me in there and I’ll wander aimlessly in the wilderness for eons.

Increased sales is a marketing objective. Stating this as the purpose of an ad won’t get you any closer to breakthrough creativity than a pep talk from the folks in accounting. Zzzzzz. This doesn’t mean that selling isn’t important. Hell that’s the whole reason we’re in business. But if you want your brief to inspire effective communications, you have to get out of your head and into someone else’s. Hence, my next point–

Climb inside your customer’s head
Who is the target audience? Seems like a no-brainer, right? But what can you tell me about their physical or emotional state? Effective creative comes from an understanding of the customer’s attitudes, perceptions and past behavior, not from their marital status, age and income. Duh, we all know this. So why do we continually cheat ourselves out of a chance to be really relevant by avoiding the topic? Creative folks have to work mighty hard to hit a customer’s sweet spot if all they know is she’s a married women over 40.

Then there’s the matter of the Consumer Insight. This is where we drill down into Maslow territory and explore what your audience needs. Whiter whites. Faster fillups. A family night out for under 25 bucks. That’s what they’re thinking about so that’s what you should be talking about.

Trust me, if your brief reveals the right buttons to push, you’re going to make a sale — hopefully to the client and most certainly to the customer. What’s more, when your start-up document focuses on the audience and its relationship to your product, the creative team has fewer excuses for coming back to you with crap mounted on quarter-inch foam core.

Okay, so enough blathering for today. Next time, we’re going to tackle the dreaded Key Message and Support.

Till then, happy creating.


Beyond Belief

Friday, March 20th, 2009

(excerpt from A Life Beyond Belief, by Martha Porter-Fiszer)

When I was alive, I spent a lot of time thinking about death.

I wondered why anyone would ever want to die and just what it would take for me to off myself or, as Kurt Vonnegut would say, to shut my own peephole. I always concluded that my condition would have to be terminal – that I would be suffering the physical pain of some horrible, incurable disease before I could ever welcome death, let alone seek it out as an acceptable course of action.

But look at me now. Here I am, dead as a corpse and I did it myself without so much as a hangnail or a minor bacterial infection to drive me to the brink. Okay, so I’m not really physically dead but hey, emotionally, I’m a total flat-liner and this is exactly where I want to be, where blah meets heavy sigh for lunch. No more oppression inflicted by a memory that hangs around like an old boyfriend, leaving my life in disarray and my soul in shreds. No sir-y not for me. Not anymore. I killed off any and all feelings: The pain, the rage, the sadness, passion, joy. BANG! I shot down the mother ship of emotion and I blew up the escape pod so that I would never have to feel anything again.

It was easy really. I simply got up, took a shower, fed the cat and emptied the garbage. Then I sat on the sofa, picked up the remote, pushed the button and CLICK, I gave my feelings a dirt nap. I banished them from my brain forever. Buh bye. And unlike a physical suicide, there was no mess to clean up afterwards. No Kurt Cobain smoking gun. No empty prescription bottle drama. Not even so much as an emotional suicide note. Just me sharing a moment with Judge Judy, the sole witness to my demise.

I must say, this new state of numbness suits me just fine and so I have decided that this is where I shall remain, on the sofa of life, for the rest of my days, forever freed from the enormity of my loss.

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