Happy Hybrid

In the autumn of 2018, I celebrated becoming the owner of two passports – and thus two citizenships – German in addition to my native British. I’ve always enjoyed being something of a mongrel, and I believe that in the future, having experience of both cultures, languages, and ways of doing things will stand me in good stead for whatever life throws my way.

Designer dogs

At around the same time, I signed a publishing contract for the third in a series of retro-style adventure stories for 9 -12s. And this signature would also lead me towards a new status, this time as an author – what I believe is called a hybrid. Nothing to do with roses, or vehicles, or designer dogs with funny names, but rather an author who is both traditionally and self-published. But before you start imagining the story of an author bravely “going it alone” after enjoying the dizzy heights of publication by one of the Big 5, let me gently remind you of what you already know: every path to publication is different.

My “traditional” publisher couldn’t be less conventional. And my “self-publisher” has often been described as a Rolls-Royce.

Boy’s Own adventures for the 21^stcentury boy – or girl

Although I’ve written fiction on and off throughout my life, it wasn’t until I’d completed a fourth novel that I decided to take this publication business seriously. This particular story was inspired by my father, who’d been an RAF pilot during the Cold War years. When my young son started asking questions about the granddad he’d never known, a delightful question whizzed its way into my head:  what if a 21^stcentury boy, born into the digital age of smart phones, Google and virtual reality could meet a hero of the analogue age, and experience all the adventures of those days?

Cue a reimagining of the Boy’s Own-style adventure story for the 21^stcentury boy – or girl. I did have interest from one or two agents, but in the end, it was a competition run by a small press (Earlyworks Press) that was my stepping stone to publication. The Bother in Burmeon was published in 2012 by Circaidy Gregory, an Earlyworks Press imprint. Two years later, a sequel – or is it a prequel? – saw my young hero whisked back in time for another adventure with his Grandpop, this time in Trouble in Teutonia. For both of these titles, I’d enjoyed the creative freedom an author has with a small publisher – I had considerable personal input into the cover design and the look and feel of the book (carefully produced to reflect the retro-style) as well as writing the story. A drawback of a smaller publisher is that marketing budgets don’t stretch further than a few posters and flyers, but the advantage is that the author has licence to do their own thing. I had great fun contacting my old chums in advertising and design for the websites and the YouTube trailer.

Going it alone

The next book was rather a long time coming, as work and family life gobbled up much of my spare (writing) time. My publisher gave an enthusiastic but non-committal response to the story in theory as I crossed my fingers and got on with polishing. But after a few months, the woes that can beset a small press became more and more apparent. Lack of time and resources. Other priorities necessary simply to keep afloat. Promises made to other authors way in front of me in the pecking order. A decision deadline came, and I was advised it would be better for me to find another publisher or go it alone.

I have to admit this flung me down in the dumps. 2018 wasn’t my greatest year.

For the rest of the story, please continue here 

Octogenarian Flaneuse

I do love a work of fiction about advertising and ad people, and recently enjoyed Kathleen Rooney's Lillian Boxfish takes a Walk. Before I get onto my review, the way I came upon this novel is also worth a mention. It was recommended by my long-lost pen pal from the US, who used the wonders of technology to seek me out and renew our correspondence after a gap of decades. One of the nicest surprises of the last year or so for me! Anyway, that's a whole other story.

The fictional Lillian Boxfish describes her career thus:

I wanted there to be something to do in life besides mate and reproduce and die, and advertising was that, or it was for a long while.

And here's what I thought of the story:

'Before Mad Men (and Woman), there was Lillian Boxfish, or in real life, Margaret Fishback, the 'world's highest-paid female advertising copywriter' in the 1930s. This book is somewhere between fact and fiction, taking the poetry and advertisements written by Margaret Fishback, plus some of the details of her career and private life, and weaving a fictional character, the sparky and spunky Lillian Boxfish, around them.

Being a fan of walking around cities and having worked in the advertising industry, I was charmed by the premise of this book, in which the elderly but sprightly Lillian takes a walk (in her mink coat) around New York on New Year's Eve, 1984, conversing with the various characters she meets while reflecting on her colourful life. She's a wonderful character, witty and acerbic, and it made a change to have to look up quite a few words in the dictionary while reading. Lillian remarks on how her long-copy ads, often in the form of verse, respected the intelligence of the reader, and I did wonder what she would have made of some of the dumbed-down advertising of today.

The book captures the sights, smells and sounds of Manhattan from the Jazz Age right through to the 1980s beautifully - the fire escapes, warehouses, smell of burnt toast, Italian restaurants - as well as the characters: not just the ad men and women, but taxi drivers, barmen, street gangs and shopkeepers.

*Slight spoiler alert* I was slightly disappointed with the last part of the story, which started to feel a little phoney and stretched credibility somewhat. For those who have read the book, I'm referring to what felt like a sequence out of 'Crocodile Dundee' which grated a little.

Despite that, I thoroughly enjoyed Lillian's reflections and observations on life, and the insight into advertising, writing and life.'

Great stories, well told

The connection between ad people and novels is one that continues to fascinate me, not least because of my own rather feeble attempts to be the next J.K.Rowling, ha ha. And I've blogged about ad people that write, most recently here.

There's an interesting article about copywriters and novelists, by Lisa Friedman, here, which looks at 10 reasons that great copywriters (should) make great novelists. There's knowing your audience, there's the killer work ethic, the ability to tell a story, the economical use of language, and more besides. Summing up, it boils down to having an innate feeling for people and what makes them tick, combined with excellent skills of expression. In other words, the ability to tell a great story, well.

And talking of novels, and ad-land, I can most heartily recommend the new book above, Spin My Little World, by Abigail Cocks. Less about ad-land as set in ad-land. The main character, Bo Simpson, crashes and blunders her way through life armed with high fashion, low-life connections, a refreshingly un-PC attitude and lashings of foul-mouthed humour. I'm sure I worked with her once.

I also worry that I was her once.

Snap, crackle and pop!

One of the other strings to my strange bow is that I'm an author. I've had one children's adventure story published so far, and a prequel or sequel (depending on how you look at it) will be launched in April.

But I am not here to blab on about my books. I blogged a while ago about the plight of independent bricks and mortar bookshops in the shadow of that ever-growing behemoth, amazon. Since then, the dark side of amazon has increasingly come to light (how's that for a mixed-up metaphor?) and I am particularly pleased to see one new enterprise go from strength to strength in the South-East of England: Daisy White's Booktique.

In my 2012 blog, I may have missed a trick. I defined the battle as being between 'bricks and mortar' and 'online'. Well, Daisy's Booktique is neither, or both, or more. The Booktique pops up in markets, Arts Centres, festivals, town centres, shop spaces and you-name-it. So as well as having all those advantages of a bricks and mortar indie bookshop - personal contact, a venue for more than selling, part of the community, support for indie authors and publishers, there is an added element that's a combination of pleasant surprise, freshness, flexibility and scarcity (in the sense of if you don't go this Saturday, you've missed it).

In comparison to the surviving bookshop chains, there is no Head Office breathing down Daisy's neck telling her to stock just from the major publishing houses, or demanding that authors doing a signing only speak when spoken to, or pooh-poohing the idea of stocking anything other than books, even if it is a beautiful hamper full of "Literary Lusciousness"- books and everything you need to snuggle up and enjoy them, from choccies to cushions.

Most importantly, the Booktique offers something you can't put a price on: a real experience. Whether it's authors and artists networking with publishers, readers chatting with writers, creative collaborations sparking new ideas - this feels like the future.

P...pick up a Puffin

Which brands from our childhood have the most impact on our lives? In my case, Puffin Books stands out as a major contributor to my obsession with both reading and writing - and the way the brand was marketed in the late 60s and 70s is still a text book example of marketing to children - and getting it right.

For those not in the know, Puffin books was Penguin's children's imprint. In the late 60s, Puffin's  chief editor, Kaye Webb launched the Puffin Club, whose main medium was the quarterly magazine Puffin Post. This was packed full of book reviews and previews, interviews with authors, jokes, competitions and contributions from Puffin Club members. The whole package (including the envelope) was wittily and charmingly designed by the illustrator Jill McDonald.

Kaye Webb was a woman before her time when it came to marketing. She had a Mission - to get children reading, a strategy to do this - to connect children to authors and illustrators and held the belief that the world would be a better place if more children read books. She's even quoted as seeing her role to spread "Puffinness" - a most modern idea of branding!

So many elements of the Puffin brand and Kaye Webb's approach ring a bell for 21st century marketers: added value and brand extension, a social network, 360° marketing, edutainment - it's all there. Just from the top of my mind, I remember diaries, badges, bookplates, even a Puffin glove puppet to make yourself. And there were holidays, although I never got to go on those. That's on top of all the wonderful books with their brilliant cover illustration and design.

Now, that's what I call making a difference to someone's life.

P.S. For the Puffin nerds amongst us, have a look at The Puffin Club Archive for some wonderful memories.

Don't tear down my silos

We're encouraged, these days, to discourage silo thinking.

In communications, we need to think integrated and stop all those digital johnnies and all those TV johnnies and all those guerilla jills getting ensconced in their silos and not talking to each other, then producing something horribly inconsistent and fragmented and non-synergistic and just...wrong.

And in brand management, we argue that "the brand" is more than the responsibility of the marketing department. A living, breathing, growing and healthy brand can only be the result of collaboration and openness internally between departments, and with our external stakeholders. No secrets, no hogging data, no ignoring or resisting what the guys in the other silo are up to.

And, most of this makes sense. For brands.

But I am not a brand. At least, I wasn't the last time I looked. I was somewhat non-plussed the other day when YouTube suggested I change my user name, I think, to bring it more in line with my Google name, or my Facebook name (or are they the same these days?). There was some burble about how all this would make me easier to find, or more famous or more profitable or something. They were even up for suggesting suitable names for me.

I didn't pursue it further because I like my silo approach on the web. I am a multi-facetted creature and intend to stay that way. If some clever clogs makes the link between Extrawurst and the trailer for my children's book on YouTube then good for them. I've got nothing to hide.

I just don't necessarily want it all joined up.

Doing well and doing good

It must be ten years ago that the book "Good Business" by Steve Hilton and Giles Gibbons came on the market, and a few years have passed since John Grant's excellent "Co-opportunity". "Who cares wins" is the natural successor to these ground-breaking books on business as a force for good.

What David Jones cleverly does in "Who cares wins" is to bring the idea of good business into the mainstream, highlighting it as a necessity for all businesses, not just new start-ups as we enter the "Age of Damage". In addition, he joins up the dots between Social Media and socially responsible businesses. Social media is the  means by which people (please, not consumers or even prosumers!) will work together with companies and organisations to Do Well AND Do Good.

The underlying premise of the book - that to succeed in the 21st century, businesses have to do both - "well" and "good" is excellent and the idea of the Age of Damage is a strong one (and was confirmed at the tail end of last year with the various tax-related stories involving Starbucks et al). Overall, the book is clearly written and enjoyable to read.

The marketing-cynic in me can't resist a few minor nit-picks about the odd cliche: there's a lot of embracing going on here, usually involving empowered consumers, and words are often unnecessarily qualified by "really, truly or genuinely", but perhaps I just notice these things because I'm guilty of them in my own presentations ;-)  In addition, to make the point clear, a black and white picture of then (silos, profit-greedy companies, captive consumers in front of TVs) and now (brave new world of benevolent young green-blooded business people with responsibility at the heart of all they do, think and say) comes over which isn't strictly accurate.

This is an important and forward-thinking book with some excellent examples from the whole spectrum of business. I also liked the optimism, clarity and action-orientation of the author's style.

I think I'll make "Do well and do good" a New Year's resolution.

Trailer Tale

My alter ego, S.P.Moss, has written a children's adventure story, The Bother in Burmeon, and marketing my own product on a limited budget has been a fascinating experience. The last thing I want to do is use this blog to promote my book in a blatant and in-your-face way, but I hope that you'll forgive me the odd little indulgence.

The marketing departments of the large publishing houses have been using book trailers for some time now, and it's a route to draw attention to your book that also makes sense for those who are with  smaller publishers, or are self-published.

There are a lot of book trailers out there and, while some of them are pretty impressive, many are not much more that a cover/pack shot plus back-cover blurb. This really isn't making the best use of the medium.

A book trailer is an advertising spot for the book and, like all advertising spots, it should have an idea. That's one reason I'm so pleased with my trailer, created by an ex-colleague from Saatchis, Roger Mönch. The idea is about "imagination", which ties in nicely with the theme of the story.

And it's not just a great idea, but it's beautifully executed, too.

OK, Roger!  

Faking It

The last week or so has seen a round of articles and commentary about amazon reviews, in the light of crime author R.J.Ellory's admission that he's not only been writing glowing reviews, such as the one above, for his own books, but he's also written damning reviews for books by rival crime writers.

There's been a huge outcry - is this the tip of the iceberg? Is it possible that many of the reviews, ratings and likes on the internet are fake?

I'm surprised that anyone even has to ask. It's been possible for some time to buy Twitter followers, Facebook Likes and reviews of all sorts over the internet at quite reasonable prices (anything from 2 - 55 US Dollars for 1,000 Twitter followers.)

Facebook has announced that they'll be trying to crack down on false Likes. This is all very well, and those that are bulk-bought or generated by malware should be fairly easy to sift out.

But what about those "likes" and "reviews" that aren't so obviously fake? R.J. Ellory must have spent a few minutes of his valuable writing time composing the above review. Fake it may be, in some senses, but it couldn't have been written by a robot.

Perhaps those of us who are marketing - whether it's brands or books - should think more deeply about what these metrics really mean. Are we too quick to fall into the trap of pantrometry - it can be measured, so it must mean something? Or are we living by the McKinsey maxim of "what you can measure, you can manage?"

We can measure likes, followers, review stars and all the rest - but does it lead to the truth? Probably not.

Compare and Contrast

A few weeks ago, an TV spot from Cancer Research entitled "Plain Packaging" broke in the UK. The spot is intended to generate support and lobbying for a move to pack tobacco products in plain packaging, and shows clips from a group discussion amongst 7-10 year-olds, discussing what attracts them to cigarette packs. The children mention that the packs are "pretty", "funky" or "cool", or that "red is my favourite colour."

I haven't got an axe to grind about smoking. I don't smoke myself and any sensible measures to help people give up smoking should be praised, knowing what we do now. However, there is something unpleasantly manipulative about this film. How do the parents feel about their children being "used" in this way? Surely, if the packets really are so compelling and attractive, the children in this film are already hooked. The comment from one boy that the symbol on one pack "reminds me of the Tintin books" will give some over-zealous official the excuse to kill off two un-PC elements with one stone.

The criticism aimed at much market research that it deliberately hot-houses and draws people's attention to things they would not notice in real life couldn't be more apt than in this case. On the list of communications vying for a 7-10 year old's attention, cigarettes packets aren't exactly competing with the latest McDonald's Happy Meal Toy or upgrade to Doodle Jump.

Contrast all this with Peter Ashley's new book, "The Cigarette Papers". There's no preaching here, for or against, simply a beautifully illustrated commentary on the golden age of cigarette packaging. There was a time when cigarettes were as woven into the tapestry of everyday life as Smartphones are today. And, to prove that there's nothing new under the sun, this book is packed with examples of product placement, loyalty schemes, brand extensions, celebrity endorsements, sponsorships, added value, branded apps and games - except that no-one referred to them as such in those days.

Just make sure you leave it on the top shelf - you don't want your children seeing it. 

A grim tale

The book industry is, if not in a crisis, certainly in a state of rapid change and turmoil. A report "The Gift of Reading in 2011", conducted and publicised by The National Literacy Trust this week, contains a main finding that is dramatic, to say the least:

In 2005, one in ten of the children and young people surveyed (aged 7-16) said that they did not have any books of their own at home.

In 2011, the figure was one in three.

And at the rate that public libraries are closing, it's unlikely that this is due to more borrowing of books from libraries. It's also not clear from the data whether this would include ebooks.

Whichever way, you can't hide from the fact that this is an alarming statistic. 

But although I am a firm believer in books and reading, and that children are missing something indescribably valuable if they don't have access to books, from a long-term perspective, maybe this situation is going back to the way things were decades ago.

The point is, even if children don't have physical books, they will always have stories - it's a fundamental part of human nature. And how much does it matter if a twelve-year-old learns the story of the Trojan War via watching Brad Pitt rather than reading Homer's Iliad? 

"Liking" ourselves to death?

Like most teenagers, "Brave New World" and "1984" were somewhere on my reading list once I'd graduated from the Puffin Club. I'm ashamed to admit that I haven't reread either book since and have fallen prey to the popular view that both authors were saying the same thing.

I've recently come across a quote from Neil Postman, from the foreword to his 1985 work "Amusing Ourselves to Death" which rang so true, reflecting where we've come in the three decades since 1984:

"Orwell warns that we will be overcome by an externally imposed oppression. But in Huxley's vision, no Big Brother is required to deprive people of their autonomy, maturity and history. As he saw it, people will come to love their oppression, to adore the technologies that undo their capacities to think.

What Orwell feared were those who would ban books. What Huxley feared was that there would be no reason to ban a book, for there would be no one who wanted to read one. Orwell feared those who would deprive us of information. Huxley feared those who would give us so much that we would be reduced to passivity and egoism. Orwell feared that the truth would be concealed from us. Huxley feared the truth would be drowned in a sea of irrelevance. Orwell feared we would become a captive culture. Huxley feared we would become a trivial culture, preoccupied with some equivalent of the feelies, the orgy porgy, and the centrifugal bumblepuppy. As Huxley remarked in Brave New World Revisited, the civil libertarians and rationalists who are ever on the alert to oppose tyranny "failed to take into account man's almost infinite appetite for distractions". In 1984, Huxley added, people are controlled by inflicting pain. In Brave New World, they are controlled by inflicting pleasure. In short, Orwell feared that what we hate will ruin us. Huxley feared that what we love will ruin us."

The truth drowned in a sea of irrelevance, a trivial culture, reduced to passivity and egoism, with an infinite appetite for distractions - Postman had a point when he postulated that Huxley got it right.

It's ironic that maybe Orwell had the better title and buzz word - and that "Big Brother" as shorthand for Reality Show has become the phrase that we've adopted to describe our own 21st century Brave New World.

Does a book need a website?

Does a woman need a man?

Does a fish need a bicycle?

Rather like these questions that I remember from my student days, the answer is that it depends on the book and it depends on the website.

In a rare glimpse into the mind of my alter ego, the children's author S.P.Moss, maybe the more honest answer was that I wanted a website for 'The Bother in Burmeon.'

Books have got by for years and sold millions without websites, but I think I can justify my indulgence on a number of grounds.

My main audience is children aged 9-12. Their mode of operation is digital and visual and, although 'The Bother in Burmeon' is unashamedly retro in style, I felt that a visual presence beyond the cover design would act as a doorway into the world that the story portrays.

And what I don't know about publishing is made up for (I hope) in my experience and knowledge of marketing. Having a well-designed website which adds value to the book, rather than simply repeating it in another medium should help me to be recognised in the overwhelming world of children's books.

I hope that my creative partner and I have made a half-decent job of it.

David vs. the Amazon

For years, I loved amazon without really thinking about it. Living out here in Germany, it's invaluable, I teeter in and out of being a Top 1000 reviewer there and I've recently acquired a Kindle.

But there is another view of amazon that I'm becoming increasingly aware of - as the big, bullying monopoly that's killing off real bookshops - especially the cute quirky little independent ones. (By the way, the pic is of Ripping Yarns in Highgate. Never been there, but I must!)

In this article from the Huffington Post, there's some super thinking about what those independent bookshops can do. And it boils down to using your competitive advantage.

Rule 1: Don't play amazon on price - you'll lose

Rule 2: You're local - use it. Be something in the community.

Rule 3: You're real, bricks and mortar - use it. What events could you hold in your store?

Rule 4: You're staffed by human beings who love books, not driven by algorithms - use it!

Let's hope that these Davids fight back and don't go the way of record stores.

Doin' it for myself

Advertising agencies are notoriously bad at doing their own marketing. With one or two notable exceptions, who grab a unique bit of something and stick with it, most of the positionings and marketing efforts adopted are pretty much interchangeable. It's rather like those doctors who are useless at diagnosing their own ailments.

Now I am in the position where I must roll up my sleeves and market something that I have produced. Without getting into a virtual game of charades, it's a book.

And what I've discovered - or maybe knew all along - is that having the ideas, putting together the theory, the grand plan is the easy bit. Where I know I am going to lose sleep is over the nitty-gritty. How much does that cost, exactly? Should I get that set up before I - or? Which bits need to be linked to what, and in what order?

Maybe all Planners should spend more time doing rather than thinking.