THE INTANGIBLE ASPECTS OF SUCCESS
PERSISTENCE
The temptation to stop is always strong.
Yes! Got something—hurrah! Now we can check our e-mails and surf the internet.
Don’t.
Look, I know the feeling, believe me. Thinking is maybe the hardest work there is, aside from digging a trench. And as soon as you have something that works, the desire to down tools is overwhelming.
So you find yourself ignoring the little voice in your head. The voice that says “It’s a bit like that other ad from last year” or “It works, but it’s only OK.”
Do not ignore that voice. If you know in your heart of hearts there’s a problem with the idea, it’s pretty certain your creative director will agree with you.
Learn to recognize the “false friends”—the ideas that seem strong enough to have cracked the problem, but that aren’t.
One of the most common false friends is the brilliant one-off ad. In creative-showcase magazines like Luerzer’s Archive you will often see a one-off ad shot in three different ways, claiming to be a campaign. It isn’t.
Another false friend is the campaign that consists of one great ad, one ad that’s not too bad, and no third one. Sadly, when this is the case, you haven’t really got a campaign. The only solution if a genuine campaign is required is to think of something else.
Another is the kind of idea that will translate into a good ad only if the execution is perfect. Once again, you must turn that chap away. Why? Because your idea has to be 120 percent.
I learned this term from Andrew Fraser (formerly a CD at DDB London) when I showed him an idea for a print ad and his reaction was “Yes, it’s fine, it works,” but his tone of voice told me he wasn’t buying it. I asked what the problem was. He replied:
“Your idea has to be 120 percent, to survive the weakening.”
Here is a diagram of what I think he meant.
If you’re out of ideas on the brief you’re working on, try working on a different one. Many creatives find it’s actually helpful to have two or three briefs on the go at once. You work on something for an hour, and then switch. That way you don’t hit brick walls.
Good creatives never dry up.
It’s common that your first proposal gets blown out by the client—at this point, many teams quit. They feel they’ve already cracked the brief once…perhaps they don’t believe they can crack it again. Or they don’t want to. Or they’re now angry. But good creatives go back to the same coal-face, to the same tunnel that just blew up in their faces, find another seam, and start mining it.
Even if another route has been bought by the creative director, or even approved by the client, the really exceptional creatives don’t quit. Some teams are so bloody-minded they never stop working on a brief until the ad appears on air. And why not? There are so many occasions when an ad is about to go into production but gets killed, just before it was due to be born. That’s when you can step in.
It’s a cliché of creative problem-solving that your best idea is always your first one or your last one. What this means is, sometimes you just find you have the answer straight away. And when you don’t, you’re in for a long struggle. Incidentally, I’m a big fan of the first thought. There’s something pure and visceral about your instant response to a brief that sets it apart from solutions you’ve strived over. Never discount your first thought, however insane it may appear. And if you really feel that it’s cracked the brief, don’t waste your time carrying on—put your time into something else. On the other hand, be honest with yourself. If your first thought has not delivered the answer, you’re going to need to carry on.
Though it may seem painful, keeping going is the right thing to do. As someone once said, the way to have a good idea is to have a lot of them.
You will have to stop eventually, for sure. But not yet.
When you’re a junior in a sound suite/editing suite/ retouching studio it’s easy to feel overawed, because everyone else in the room knows what they’re doing, and you may not have a clue.
I highly recommend you to ask. Not easy, because that means admitting your ignorance, and nobody likes to look dumb.
But if you don’t ask questions, you don’t extend your knowledge.
Once you get used to the embarrassment, it’s fine. And it’s good to get used to it, because you’ll need to keep asking questions throughout your career.
Everyone knows that Darwin defined evolution in terms of the survival of the fittest, but what’s less well understood is that “fittest” doesn’t mean smartest or strongest; it means most adaptable.
So to have a successful career in advertising, or indeed any field, you have to keep learning. It’s a big mistake to start off your career by learning, and then as soon as you’ve had some success, rest on your laurels. Our industry changes too quickly for that. There are constant advances in technology, which push back the boundaries of what’s achievable.
Alexandre Gama, president and chief creative officer, Neogama BBH (Brazil) says that;
“All creatives should play Nintendo Wii—any game, once a week, or at weekends. There’s no better lesson in interactivity. If the Wii is not your ballgame, try Xbox 360 or PlayStation 3. But you have to play it in order to really understand what kind of world we’re living in today. Action, visuals, animation, soundtrack, plots. And, of course, fun. OK, reading good books, going to art shows, and watching movies is seriously important as they are the foundation of cultural background and fundamental in building a solid creative repertoire. But do play a little Wii once in a while.”
Keep meeting people who know things you don’t, and be happy to look stupid in front of them.
Do courses. Every agency has a training budget they need to spend—make sure some of it goes your way. Take the obvious courses like presentation skills and radio production, but take some non-obvious ones too. It may not be immediately apparent how screen-writing, poetry, printmaking, or life drawing can help your advertising career. But they can.
Sure, it’s unlikely these activities will give you a solution to the brief you’re currently working on. But you need to keep filling the well—the part of your unconscious that is teeming with interesting ideas and images—the place you draw your ideas from.
Having to come up with ideas every day is most draining. Keep the flow of new ones coming in; otherwise one day you’ll go to the well and it’ll be empty.
Keep doing things you haven’t done before, talk to people who other people never talk to, and look at weird sh*t.
John Webster used to regularly visit a local greetings card store and spend five minutes flipping through the cards. Why? For the quick hit of jokes, images, and surreal little nothings. Websites are the modern equivalent—look at a wide range, daily.
I’m not talking about finding ideas to rip off. I’m talking about keeping your mind open, alive, and unconventional.
That’s what you need to do on an ongoing basis to stay creative, and employable, throughout your career.
CHALLENGE YOURSELF
Also, challenge yourself. Most people prefer to spend time doing things they already know how to, and are good at. But if you only do what you already know, you’ll quickly become stale. And getting stale is the biggest risk to your career.
Keep yourself fresh by taking on projects you don’t know how to do. Yes, they can go wrong. But it’s so much more fun.
If going to work feels like settling into a warm bath, you need to shake something up. Consider moving agencies, or changing partners.
Just for clarity, I’m not recommending a life of constant discomfort. All I’m saying is that creativity requires stimulation, and lack of stimulation will lead you gently to the armchair of complacency.
Avoid that armchair.
Examples of the type of weird sh*t you should regularly be looking at. In this case, from the website www.VVork.com.
Years ago there was a group of London ad-men who called themselves the 11.01 Club—named after the time they arrived at the pub every morning.
The US series Mad Men, as well as being superbly well plotted and entertaining, has amazed audiences with its depiction of 1960s ad agency staff drinking whisky in their offices, having sex in their offices, and smoking everywhere.
Those days are long gone.
The business has even become more serious in the few years since I have been in it. E-mail, Blackberries, and electronic diaries have a lot to answer for.
Nevertheless, it’s still a fun business compared to a job in accountancy, so you’d be missing out if you didn’t make the most of the fun available. Ad people are incapable of finishing a big project without having a celebratory lunch, and there are many, many nights out in a year—from leaving do’s to agency parties to awards do’s.
But this isn’t a book about how to have fun. It’s about how to be successful, and there is undoubtedly an aspect to socializing that can further your career.
In Ogilvy on Advertising, David Ogilvy advised agency managers to “Get rid of sad dogs who spread gloom.” Now, I’m fairly certain he was referring more to account handlers than creatives. If you’re a grouchy depressive who can only make eye contact with another person’s shoes you will still be fine, if you’re a creative whose work is good. But it’s not an approach that will actively boost your career.
And, conversely, being considered a “cultural asset” in an agency is nowhere near as important as doing good work. But, it never hurt anyone.
The fact is that people who know you and like you will be more inclined to help you, whether that be giving you a job or just a piece of useful advice.
Please note that I’m not advising any kind of calculated and cold-hearted networking strategy. Far from it. In fact, anyone who tries too hard to ingratiate themselves is quite rightly shunned. All I am suggesting is if you do go out to an agency or industry event, that you have fun, be yourself, and talk to people. That way, as well as having a good time, you’ll be helping yourself career-wise.
I’ve lost count of the number of casual chats I’ve had in the agency pub in which I’ve learned useful stuff from planners and account handlers—like which briefs are about to come up, what a client “really” thinks about an ad we’ve presented, or who is about to be fired.
It’s even more essential to socialize with your fellow creatives. First of all, there’s no one better to whinge to. And although none of you would think of an after-work drink as an information-sharing session, you do learn a lot from your colleagues. With your closest friends, you’ll even end up sharing how much each of you is earning, and ideas on how to ask the boss for more.
At industry events like awards do’s, you meet folk from other agencies. Ad people make for a lively crowd, and these events can be some of the best nights out of the year.
As well as making new friends, you get the chance to swap information about each other’s agencies.
There’s nothing like hearing from the horse’s mouth exactly what a place is like to work at. You’ll also discuss what you’ve been working on, and from that conversation you’ll learn about which directors they rate, which photographers, and maybe hear opinions on what makes for good advertising that could vary enormously from what you’re used to hearing in your own agency.
And then there’s Cannes.
If you get the chance to go to the advertising festival at Cannes, go. There is much about Cannes that is very, very wrong. But it’s so much fun.
Expect to find yourself crashing pool parties at villas in the hills; talking total sh*t in the Gutter Bar at 4am; and stumbling around the Croisette at dawn trying to remember what street the ludicrously overpriced Hotel Bedbug is on.
But be aware of the unwritten rules of Cannes and other industry events. You’re allowed to behave badly—and with free booze and nightclubs it’s quite hard not to—but you’re not allowed to be an idiot. It’s not cool to be so drunk that you throw up in your MD’s handbag. And it’s not endearing to be lecherous.
So the summary on socializing is “do what comes naturally.” You’ll make friends and learn vital information. And if you’re a fun guy who people like, that won’t harm your career at all.
RAISING YOUR PROFILE
If you keep quiet, the world won’t notice you.
One of the biggest sources of amazement to me is how appallingly bad most creatives are at marketing themselves. We spend our whole working lives getting attention for the brands we work on, generating PR for them, and communicating their benefits to people. And then what do we do to PR ourselves? Nothing.
The ability to promote yourself is an advantage in every field of human activity.
For example, it’s said that Tesla was a much better inventor than Edison…but Edison had better PR.
GETTING TALKED ABOUT
Let’s look at a couple of examples of people in our industry who understand the value of a good profile.
Siimon Reynolds (interviewed in this book) is arguably Australia’s most successful ad-man. Did adding the extra “i” to his name help him to become a creative director? Probably not. Did writing books like 365 Ways to Live to 100 and Become Happy in 8 Minutes help him start his own agency? Probably not. Did a regular spot on the Australian version of the Dragons’ Den TV show help him found one of Australia’s largest communications groups, which today employs over 6,000 people? Probably not, but you can see where I’m going with this. Everything Siimon Reynolds does signals that he’s an unusual, interesting, and creative individual, and it gets him talked about.
In the UK, we have Graham Fink, ECD of M&C Saatchi, and one of the most talented creatives Britain has ever produced. But he also knows how to sell himself. He once turned up to the British Television Advertising Awards dressed as Robin Hood, complete with a bow but no arrows, saying he hoped to fill his quiver at the ceremony (the BTAA award is an arrow). He didn’t actually win any arrows that night, but the next day, who do you think everyone was talking about?
In recent times, two of the most effective PR men in our business have been French creative duo Fred & Farid, now running their own agency in Paris.
Here are my five favorite Fred & Farid stories. (N.B. These may not all be true… but they are stories people tell—and they all add to the F&F myth.)
1 In an interview, they once claimed they lived in the same apartment, went to the same films, and ate exactly the same food as each other every day, so they could “think as one.”
2 They once stuffed an account man into a bin.
3 They once walked into a creative’s office, shut the door, told him: “Your work, it is sh*t,” and walked out again.
4 They once pushed everyone’s desks against the wall to clear a space so they could practise kick-boxing—in the middle of the creative department.
5 They once halted a commercial shoot so they could be interviewed by Shots magazine.
Some might write off such antics as “stunts.” Maybe they are. But if a stunt is fun enough and clever enough, then it doesn’t feel gratuitous, it doesn’t backfire, and it successfully builds profile.
Nevertheless, these are extreme examples, and not ones everyone could follow. Adam Ant sang “ridicule is nothing to be scared of,” but not everyone likes to risk it. Unless you are extremely thick-skinned, flamboyant, and attention-craving—basically, a show-off—I don’t recommend the above tactics. However, it’s worth bearing in mind the lengths that some people are prepared to go to, to get noticed. And you’re competing with them.
There are a few quieter types who prefer to let their work speak for itself. But not many, especially among ECDs. Someone who reaches the level of ECD—someone talented enough to command a huge salary and dictate the destiny of an entire company—is likely to be a remarkable person, and remarkable people naturally attract attention because they’re, well, remarkable in some way. They have to be.
At the top level, doing great work is not enough.
An agency ECD is the “figurehead” of the company—a charismatic figure, able to attract top creative talent, and clients.
MAKING YOUR NAME
So how do you make a name for yourself?
As a junior, you should be sending your work out to the creative magazines (e.g. Archive, Creative Review) and to ad blogs. As a middleweight, you should be comfortable speaking to journalists about your work (assuming your employer allows this—some don’t let staffers other than management speak to the trade press). And as a senior creative you should be actively thinking of ways to build your personal profile. Ways to do this include putting yourself forward for election to industry bodies, speaking at industry events, and writing articles for the trade press and online publications, or finding a way to have them interview you.
The benefits of a profile should be obvious. Just as people prefer to buy brands they have heard of, they prefer to hire people they have heard of. If an ECD is hiring, he will be more likely to give an interview to a team that he has heard of because they were in Campaign last week than a team he has never heard of. And if an agency CEO is looking for a new ECD, he is more likely to hire the person with a massive industry profile, someone whose career is followed by the trade press and whose next move is eagerly anticipated, rather than someone whose hiring will prompt the dreaded question “Who?”
Please don’t think I’m saying it’s less important to be talented than to have good PR. That isn’t the case. In fact, it’s naïve to think that anyone could reach the top without talent, since even the most shameless self-promoters need some success to promote. Some might stretch their triumphs thin—in other words, they might do one or two good ads, and through self-promotion gain a high position and maintain it without doing any good work again. But not many. Our business is too lean and ruthless nowadays for people to do well if they’re not performing, however well known they’ve become.
LOOK CREATIVE
Are you one of those people who thinks it doesn’t matter what you wear in life—all that matters is what you do, and what you say?
If so…what would you think of a college professor who lectured in a bikini?
Gotcha.
What you wear may seem trivial, but is actually important.
Whenever I raise this topic, I get a defensive reaction. People have an ingrained belief that clothes are a silly thing to care about, and they are quick to slap me down and tell me “No one gives a stuff what you wear.” But that’s not correct.
American anthropologist Ray Birdwhistell estimated the non-verbal at 65 percent of all communication received. And a big part of what you communicate non-verbally comes from what you wear—your clothes send signals.
There are very good reasons why the riot police don’t wear pink.
Surely we creatives—we who earn our living creating images—should know better than to dismiss the importance of “look.”
We’re experts at presenting brands in the best possible light. So why do we never consider how we’re presenting ourselves? How come a creative understands that it’s worth spending hours retouching a photo of a yogurt pot, because he knows that the tiniest tweaks to the visual styling of this milk-based dessert will affect how the consumer perceives it...and yet refuses to even contemplate that his own appearance affects how he is perceived?
Our business is subjective, and your success (or failure) will depend considerably on your perception-management skills. And what you wear forms part of how you’re perceived. No one knows for sure if an idea that you present to them is any good or not. The main thing that will convince them is you telling them it is. And if you look like a person who has good ideas, then that will make a difference.
After grudgingly accepting that what they wear is a form of communication, people sometimes protest I’m advising “dress wacky.” I’m not. Absolutely not. Unless you want to be perceived as wacky? Like anyone trying too hard, the creative trying desperately to look creative is an embarrassment. And just as the least creative agencies often have the funkiest décor, there’s a slight suspicion that less creative people feel a greater need to look cutting-edge. They’re following the rule of “If you can’t be creative, you might as well look creative.”
A US creative observes: “Go to the worst agencies and you’ll see the creative department dressed in the trendiest togs with painstakingly funky hairdos and $800 boots. Lots of tattoos also. Whereas at the places doing good work, the clothing is pretty secondary, leaning heavily towards the collegiate and comfortable.”
THE “CREATIVE UNIFORM”?
The final objection I hear is that I’m suggesting people adopt some kind of “creative uniform.” (Just as there’s a uniform for lawyers, postmen, and off-duty footballers, there’s a uniform for creative people too. I won’t attempt to describe this, since it varies country by country and city by city, and will be out of date by the time you read this. But a quick stroll through any advertising agency creative department, record label, or TV production company should be enough to convince you it exists.)
Those who wear the “creative uniform” do so because it sends out a strong non-verbal signal: “I’m part of the group.” I’m not suggesting you have to go out and buy this uniform; it’s up to you whether you want to send that message or not. Perhaps you want to send the opposite signal: Paul Arden, the great Saatchi’s CD, for example, often dressed like a country gentleman. In a world of wannabe urban hipsters, he stood out a mile. But at least be aware of what signal you are sending.
There’s a wide variety of styles among those who look creative, according to what type of creativity they consciously or unconsciously want to project.
Here are some examples:
OK, so these descriptions are a little tongue-in-cheek, but I hope they expand my point—what you wear not only influences whether people think you’re good or not, it even tells them which aspects of the job you’re good at. Powerful stuff.
Just to be ultra-clear, I’m not proposing that you adopt one of these uniforms, or indeed any uniform. Wear what you want. Be yourself.
But be aware of the messages that your clothes are sending, and dress in accordance with what you want to say.
For example, if you’re looking to get promoted to creative director, it may be time to purchase a jacket.
How you look does make a difference. Make it make a difference in your favor.
In no way do I condone “bad” behavior from creatives, like turning up late for meetings, being rude to people, not listening, or being untidy. All of that is not on.
What I am advocating when I say “Don’t behave” is—don’t do things just because that’s the way they’re always done, or to make things easier for other people, at the expense of the work.
Here are some examples to explain what I’m talking about:
In short, don’t behave. It won’t get you anywhere. And it’s not fun.
The main difficulty comes when you are given a straight-out order to work on a dull brief.
In Bartleby, an 1853 novella by Herman Melville, the titular character—who works as a clerk in a law firm—simply responds to any requests to perform work duties with the phrase “I would prefer not to.” But this existentialist mode of resistance doesn’t end well for Bartleby. And while a senior or high-profile creative might be able to turn down an unappetizing project, most creatives have to take whatever briefs they’re given.
THREE APPROACHES TO A DULL BRIEF
1 The first, which is the approach I most recommend, is to execute this brief as quickly as possible, leaving you time to work on other things as well.
2 The second, which is difficult and time-consuming, but potentially rewarding, is to try to do something good on every brief. Some agencies have been able to do great work on hitherto uncreative accounts, e.g. Crispin Porter for Burger King, and Saatchi & Saatchi NY for Tide. And some creatives actively enjoy a challenge.
I once asked Mark Waites, a creative director and co-founder of Mother, how his agency managed to do such good work for even the most difficult clients. “It’s simple,” he told me. “Just never show them a bad ad.” He was being disingenuous though. Be warned that if you choose to follow this route, it is not simple. In fact it’s bloody hard work.
3 The third and final approach is one I call “playing to lose.” This is a method of avoiding bad briefs. But it has to be done cleverly. For the good of your reputation, you can’t do it in a way that makes you look difficult, arrogant, or prima-donna-ish.
Years ago, when I worked at Saatchi’s, some friends of mine—a talented team—got briefed on Oil of Olay.
They came back with a script about a woman who is dead. However, because her friends regularly apply Oil of Olay to her face, no one realizes. (The idea was based on the movie Weekend At Bernie’s.)
This was a fun and lateral way to demonstrate what the product does for your skin, but of course, not something that Procter & Gamble could ever buy.
K**** and C***** were never given a P&G brief again. And yet, no one could say they hadn’t tried, or hadn’t done a good job. That is playing to lose. It’s an advanced skill, and a high-risk strategy, but nevertheless, one you may wish occasionally to deploy.
AGENCY LIFE
Some agencies are more sociable than others, but in general, it’s still an industry that drinks more than it should, and is constantly celebrating someone’s arrival, departure, or birthday.
People who have left advertising often say that what they most miss is the banter. And although deadlines are getting shorter and staffing levels tighter, there’s still plenty of chat to be had.
Because it’s an industry that’s short on facts and long on opinions, it does tend to attract the confident. In fact, if you don’t state your opinions confidently, you won’t last. You have more chance of selling an average idea if you are confident than a brilliant idea if you are not. Unfair, but that’s how it works. If you’re not confident, you’ll either have to fake it, or work on it.
The flipside of confidence is arrogance. Never become arrogant, however many times you’re proved right. And avoid vanity. Of course it’s fine to be well dressed and well groomed. But it’s better to be a person of substance and integrity. Actually, why make a choice here? Be both.
Agency décor is sometimes painfully “creative,” but is usually at least modern. It could be a lot worse. You could be working in a bank. Or a coal mine. Just make sure your office environment is suitable for working. Open-plan is a curse, caused by interior designers who think advertising people want somewhere “buzzy.” But to be creative, you need uninterrupted thinking time. Many creatives end up doing their creative thinking at home, on public transportation, or in cafés…and the office becomes just a place for meetings and e-mails. If you’re finding it difficult to think in the office, don’t hesitate to pop out for a bit. No one will miss you. And if they do, so what? Better to have people thinking that you bunk off a lot, than that you never have any ideas.
Office decoration is quite an art. My partner and I put up posters of ads that we’re proud of, scamps of ads we’ve written but that haven’t been made yet, funny notes people have left us, and images we find beautiful or amusing. Some creatives put “stimulating” pictures on their walls. I personally don’t see how this can make any difference, since after a day or so, anything you put on your wall becomes invisible to you, it just fades into the background. Nevertheless, these items do have a function—as a signalling system to visitors, telling them what kind of people you are, and what you find important or interesting.
Watch your internet consumption. Too little and you will come across as an idiot. Too much, ditto.
OFFICE DATING
Spending so much time in the office can leave little time for a personal life. Maybe that’s why so many people in advertising combine the two. They socialize with the people they work with, and vice versa. Inevitably, they end up dating them, despite the old advice not to dip your pen in company ink.
It happens in every profession: lawyers date other lawyers, doctors date other doctors. But there’s a perception that advertising is more incestuous than most—perhaps because with so many industry parties and events, there are simply more opportunities to, ahem, get to know your co-workers.
Of course, every relationship that ends, ends badly.
One of you is going to feel aggrieved. One of you is going to be portrayed as the guilty party. After you break up, the situation can become awkward. So if you’re the sort of person who doesn’t like awkward situations, don’t date someone in your own agency.
In a bigger agency it isn’t so bad, because chances are you won’t see them that often. But in a small agency, a ruined relationship can poison the entire atmosphere. One of you may have to leave.
Some people in advertising prefer to date civilians—they find it reassuring that their partner won’t care if the client changes the copy yet again. Others prefer to go out with someone who understands what they do, and can feel their pain.
It would be utterly ridiculous of me to give you advice on how to live your life. So I won’t.
And if anyone else tries to—don’t listen.
There is quite simply no right or wrong way for a creative person to live.
Flaubert famously advised: “Be regular and orderly in your life…so that you may be violent and original in your work.”
Jack Kerouac said: “The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes ‘Awww!’”
Or to put it another way—Jimi Hendrix took drugs for breakfast, Van Morrison is teetotal. But both count as pretty creative.
So whatever you’re doing, don’t think it’s wrong. Just make sure you’re doing what’s right for you. If you’re an urban outlaw, don’t go to stay at your grandmother’s house in a nice, neat suburb “to save money.” You won’t be happy. And if you’re the kind of person who enjoys gardening and drinking cups of tea at the weekend, don’t worry that you “really” should be at an anarchist festival.
Some people spend their weekends at work. That’s OK too.
For some, advertising is a vocation—they always knew they wanted to go into advertising, just as others knew they would be a priest, or a doctor. This type of person knows which ads each director has shot, can name every current campaign for every big client, and has an archivist’s knowledge of the history of advertising. Probably because they spend so long reading awards annuals.
If that sounds like you, don’t worry. There’s nothing wrong with you, and you’ll be absolutely fine—just make sure you get enough external stimulation, in addition to feeding your advertising addiction, so that your work doesn’t become totally self-referential.
At the other end of the scale are the people working in advertising who don’t actually like advertising that much. They may even hate it. What they do like is a job where they can write funny sketches, brief composers, and create great images. These people typically have no idea who is the creative director of any given agency, don’t know what ads are currently on TV, and couldn’t care less whether Cadbury’s out-sells Galaxy or goes bankrupt.
That’s fine too, and many of our greatest practitioners fall into this category. But if this does sound like you, my one word of caution is that while you don’t have to be interested in the ad industry to do well in it, you do have to be interested in the product. If you find your level of interest in advertising is sinking below the water-line, you should probably look to do something else.
The world is a competitive place—to be successful at anything, you have to care.