A motherbooking great spot.

Before you read on, watch this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=LusjsQGkKWA

I actually first saw this commersh at the movie theater, laughed my booking butt off, and took some notes to look up the credits later. I just looked it up. Wieden + Kennedy. Go figure. Those booking bastards. 

I booking love this spot. It’s straight-up booking genius. The script sells so hard, but maintains an entertaining edge. And what a stellar strategy – to use the word “booking” over and over.

In his AdWeek article, Gabriel Beltrone made a great point:

“The decision to hammer viewers over the head with the brand name by using it as substitute adjective for a certain curse word should be a lot more annoying than it is—the fact that it’s vaguely explicit makes it just self-deprecating enough to not be too abrasive.”

I can’t stress enough how booking smart I think this spot is, and how booking jealous I am that I didn’t write it.

Okay, I’ll stop with the wordplay. I mean, for book’s sake, Shloimy!

Truth in advertising.

Looks like crocs’ copywriter could use a little help.

Here are my rewrites:

Ugly as hell — with the crocs terrible color combinations that give kids headaches.

Weirder, nerdier, more fashion faux pas.

So hideous, they make you blow chunks.

Crap material, with appalling design girls hate!

If you’re gonna recycle your headline, no – never recycle your headline.

Turning a new (orange) leaf.

In the summer of 2011, I created “The Good Part of New York Mornings” with my former art director partner, Manuel Aleman.

Tropicana is all about making mornings better. We were charged with establishing Tropicana as New York’s orange juice. The problem was a bunch of other orange juice brands were attempting to make inroads with New Yorkers, so we decided to do something that really talked to NY’ers and the mornings they endure on a daily basis.

After seeing the work, Tropicana asked us to do the same thing for an additional 4 cities. Oh, and sales rose 44%. No big deal.

But over a year has passed, and now everyone’s favorite orange juice is back with another installment of ads. While I had nothing to do with this new campaign, I feel connected to the brand and the agency behind the work (shout out to Matt Eastwood, Menno Kluin, and all the other talented boys and girls at DDB, NY).

The big idea behind the freshly-squeezed campaign, that all the headlines ladder up to is: “Grab a mini bottle.” That’s it. Simple. Nice and direct.

One of the ads in the campaign touts “Instant face lift.” Another sells “Portable sunshine.”

They’ve also made a clever use of media space. An ad above a seat on the subway reads, “This seat is reserved for someone in a really good mood.” This is especially nice as it’s prompted people to post photos on Facebook of people sitting under the sign, who… let’s just say, aren’t in a really good mood. A little free media’s always nice.

I also caught “Morning pickup” and “Need a lift?” above taxi cabs. Another example of a nice marriage between media and message.

There’s also “Hydrate your smile,” “Say good morning and mean it,”  and “Rise and shine at the same time.”

Not sure who specifically to credit over at DDB, but nice work guys. Nice work indeed.

An Essay On Radio Ads You Just Can’t Ignore.

Yesterday I shared a cab with a young couple who was heading to Crown Heights, just a few blocks from where I was going.

I hopped shotgun. They took the backseat.

We made some small talk, but mostly they spoke amongst themselves. Our cabbie had the radio on. When the songs ended this commercial began.

Everyone in the car laughed, and as the commercial played on, the dude in the backseat said, “Radio commercials are hilarious. Like anyone actually listens to this stuff!”

My first thought was hell yeah. Because as an advertising professional, it’s so rare I get to witness someone’s reaction to an ad, super raw - right in the moment. Furthermore, regular people don’t often speak up and express their opinion about how effective a particular media platform is. Or isn’t.

I decided to throw some fuel in the fire and said, “Yeah, you’re speaking to an audience that isn’t listening,” which I basically pulled straight out of my favorite book on advertising, Hey Whipple Squeeze This, where Luke Sullivan says:

If you have a child age five or younger, you already understand the basic problem facing the radio writer.

“Put that down. No, do NOT draw on the dog. Do NOT draw on the dog! Didn’t you hear me? I said do not stick that crayon in the dog’s … NO! Put that down!”

Both the parent and the radio writer are talking to someone who is not listening.

In the end, parents have a slight edge. They can send their children to their room, but the poor radio writer is left to figure out a way to get customers to listen.

If you think about it, the whole radio medium is used very differently than is print, online, or TV. In print, you have readers actively holding the magazine or newspaper up to their faces; they’re engaged, as is the TV watcher or the Web surfer. But radio is typically just sort of on in the background while people stay busy doing other things. It’s just sorta there. People tune into and out of it depending on how interesting the material being broadcast is.

And so we’re back to our old problem. We must be interesting.

So back to my story. I say to the guy, “You’re speaking to an audience that isn’t listening” and he immediately responds “Totally true.”

I couldn’t contain myself, so I continue, “It’s funny, I actually work in advertising as a writer and radio’s my favorite medium.” Everyone chuckles.

“Me too,” the girl says. “I work for a media company. We do a ton of radio. Geico’s one of our biggest accounts.” I take a moment to let the scene sink in. Here, in the backseat of this cab, sits a couple comprised of a girl who makes her living because brands run radio ads, and her boyfriend who thinks people don’t listen to “This Stuff.”

Admittedly, it got me thinking. Does radio advertising actually work? If it doesn’t, why would major brand names pay big bucks to develop and run the commercials?

The girl pipes up again. “It’s funny… I bought a Roku this past year and I absolutely love it. It was 80 bucks and it brings all my shit together – Netflix, Hulu Plus, HBO GO – you name it! It even syncs up with other apps like Pandora and Spotify so you can use your TV to stream music.”

I say, “Really? Wow. I hadn’t even heard about Roku until very recently when all those funny ads popped up in the subways and around town. There’s that one about watching so much Glee, you’d question your sexuality, or watching enough Modern Family to make your family seem normal. They’re funny.”

“Oh yesh, dey are very funny!” says our driver in a thick, Russian accent.

I was still curious about the service, so I ask the girl, “Wait, so it’s kind of like a “black box,” but it’s legal?” “No, it’s a ‘streaming box’ for anything and everything streamable – pulls it all together on your TV.”

Now I was interested. A flat fee of 80 greenbacks and everything I watch on my laptop will now be searchable and playable on my TV screen, all under one roof and easy-to-use? “Done. I’m totally getting one,” I say. “Trust me, you’ll love it,” the girl responds.

I couldn’t help but think about the clear irony we were all experiencing. What started as a conversation about how no one listens to radio ads, turned into a full-blown word-of-mouth sale. I had made up my mind. It was just a matter of time before I’d be the proud owner of a Roku.

And all because a well-written, entertaining, interesting ad came on the radio.

Imagine that.

What Just Happened?

Open on Shloimy reviewing the script he’s just written in a coffee shop in Brooklyn. He reads aloud. A couple in their 60s approach him.

MAN: Is it alright if we have a seat here?

SHLOIMY: Yes, of course.

MAN: Did this place get hit bad by Sandy?

SHLOIMY: Not sure. My first time in this area.

MAN: Where you from?

SHLOIMY: Crown Heights. But my brother lost two cars in Far Rockaway.

MAN: My wife’s family’s from there. They were hit real bad, too.

SHLOIMY: Yeah, but my niece and nephew are fine, so…

The man knocks on the table.

MAN: You work in advertising?

SHLOIMY: Yeah, I’m a Copywriter.

The man shakes his head.

MAN: What company?

SHLOIMY: Kirshenbaum Bond Senecal + Partners.

MAN: I know it. My daughter’s a Creative Director at Grey.

SHLOIMY: No way, small world!

The man extends his hand.

MAN: Paul, nice to meet you.

A warm handshake ensues.

SHLOIMY: Shloimy!

MAN: Shloimy? Oh, I’m really Yehuda Fischel.

SHLOIMY: Nice.

WOMAN: Honey, we don’t want to be late.

MAN: Let me have your phone number. We should keep in touch.

SHLOIMY: Absolutely, thank you.

They exchange phone numbers, shake hands again, and the couple exits the café.

Shloimy takes a sip of his latte and smiles.

SHLOIMY: (shaking his head in disbelief, and speaking out loud to himself) I’ll be darned.

FIN.

An Apple Product You’ve Probably Never Thought About.

Around the world, people young and old know how sleek and sexy Apple’s products are. They know about their great user-experience design – they even talk about Apple’s great advertising. But no one ever specifically calls out their writing. Which is precisely the point I’d like to shed some light on.

From the very first time I visited apple.com, I’ve appreciated their commitment to great writing. They use short, punchy copy that expresses smart ideas. No doubt the result of Steve Jobs’ request that writing play a huge role in shaping the Apple brand.

Their lines are short. And smart. The website copy feels like it wrote itself. You can’t see the writer or the thought process behind the writing. Being a wordsmith myself, I know that kind of writing takes a lot of effort. An exhausting amount.

The thing is, you sort of have to go through this process to come up with something that feels free of a process. Samuel Johnson said “What is written without effort is read without pleasure.” Read that again. Itself a great sentence.

And speaking of which, I’ve been reading a book you should check out. It’s called “How to Write a Sentence and How to Read One” by Stanley Fish. The cover touts a nice quote from a Financial Times review, “Both deeper and more democratic than The Elements of Style.” And while I love The Elements, I have to agree, this book is better. Trust me, you’ll really enjoy it. At least if you’re a word nerd. Hey, I’m not pointing any fingers.

Over the past year, I think my goals as a writer have matured. Now I spend my time crafting my words in such a way as to remove myself from them. In other words, I don’t want you to connect with me, but the ideas I’m trying to express. That’s not to say you won’t know it’s me talking. You will, because I’ll have my own voice. But you’ll notice the ideas more than anything else. The ideas themselves will get the attention, rather than the writer who wrote them.

Think about it. When you find yourself turning page after page in a novel you can’t put down, you never think what the writer’s mindset was when he chose one word over another, or framed something a certain way. Well, if you’re a fellow writer, then maybe you do. But most people are connected to the story, the characters and the idea. Not the writer.

And it’s funny. Some people think writing is dead. Almost everybody in the advertising business will tell you that there are more efficient ways to influence the consumer than writing copy. But here’s something else that almost everybody agrees on: It has gotten harder and harder to build a brand, move merchandise, convey a message, and leave a lasting impression. Consider for a moment these five sets of words:

Think Small.
We Try Harder.
The Ultimate Driving Machine.
Just Do It.
I’m loving’ it.

The magic is that I don’t have to tell you the brands behind these words. Words, my friends, will never go out of fashion. But back to Apple. I invite you to stop for a moment and hop over to http://www.apple.com/. Click through to the different pages and sections of the site and you’ll find smart observations, sophisticated wordplays, and jokes worth smiling at.

More than anything, I’m inspired by Apple for always sweating the small stuff. Every product they make, every word they publish, it’s all in an effort to perpetuate their brand and make people fall in love with them. And it only takes a quick glance at their stock to know they’re doing something right.

Facebook: The Things That Connect Us

On Thursday, Faceboook announced that it had reached its billion-user milestone.

To celebrate, and to remind people of what they’re all about, they launched this poetic film.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c7SjvLceXgU

It was written by a girl by the name of Erin Swanson.

She works at Weiden+Kennedy in Portland, Ore. Facebook’s agency of record (go figure).

I specifically appreciate her writing this idea to life, because I recently worked on a similar script.

It ain’t easy and it goes through lots of rounds of changes.

But in the end—hopefully, at least—you sort of end up with something moving and truthful.

Good going, Erin.

Writing a great headline takes sweat.

Sometime around 1902, our pal Thomas Edison coined the expression “Genius is 1% inspiration, 99% perspiration.” To be fair, it’s reported others had said similar things before 1902. Take that, Edison. Is your light bulb still on?

It’s true though. The Comte de Buffon (also known as George-Louis Leclerc) was attributed with saying “Genius is only a greater aptitude for patience.” And Thomas Carlyle is widely reported to have coined the term “Genius is an infinite capacity for taking pains.” In digging around and doing some research, what he actually said was “I know of no genius but the genius of hard work.”

But Tomato / Tomahto, the point is that to come up with something smart, you have to work your ass off. You’ve gotta sweat. Sure, there are those beautiful moments when you nail it the first time, but more often than not, it’s gonna take work. No shortcuts. Just pure, honest-to-goodness, nose-to-the-grindstone work. Sorry.

This axiom is quite literally brought to life in new york sports clubs® longtime running headline-driven, print campaign. Their work has always caught my eye and, more importantly, my attention. They’re timely, smart and funny. I’m rarely letdown.

(Not sure who to credit here. If someone knows, hollar at me. Also, this is just one of tons—literally tons—of print ads in this campaign. Look ‘em up. You’ll be glad you did.)

Their formula seems simple enough: Leverage a cultural tension. This is a big Crispin thing, and an idea Luke Sullivan (the God of advertising) often speaks of.

The headlines in this campaign are hard-working and constantly deliver. No matter the joke, the lines always manage to tie back to working out and signing up for a gym membership. They never feel forced. They’re unfailingly smart.

The art direction is divinely simple, too. An unassuming low-caps sentence, the line perfectly broken. The dashed - - cutout - - lines that form the border are a subtle, but powerful way of making the ad look like a coupon, thereby communicating that the memberships are affordable. This also serves to carve out their own little space in the newspaper, wherever the ad happens to be placed.

Perhaps the art direction is so simple, because the thoughts are so smart.

The truth is I sometimes feel that being a writer myself, I’m partially bias to headline-driven campaigns. But only partially. Because no one can argue with a well-written thought. And when that thought is born right out of a human truth? Bullseye. Bingo. You’re done. Go home.

I could write about this until I’m blue in the fingers, but as usual, the work speaks for itself. Here are some strictly copy-driven ads. They’re some of my all-time faves—the best I’ve ever seen. Some would argue, the best there’s ever been.

Tell you what, I’ll let you be the judge.

(ALTOIDS – Leo Burnett, Chicago.)

(321 EAST – McConnaughy Stein Schmidt Brown, Chicago.)

(SCRABBLE – Ogilvy & Mather, Singapore.)

(The Economist – Abbott Mead Vickers/BBDO.)

(ABC – TBWA/Chiat/Day, Los Angeles.)

(Citi – Fallon, Minneapolis.)

And those don’t even begin to scrape the surface. I have plans for some more in-depth posts about the headline writing process. Stay tuned.

Or don’t. Do whatever you want. It’s a free country, for God’s sake.

But whatever you do, remember to sweat the small stuff.

Don’t you just love it when writers do that? The whole wrap-it-all-together-and-give-you-that-warm-glowy-feeling-in-your-chest thing? I do.

Great Writing

Agency: Earle Palmer Brown Bethesda

I’d love to know who wrote this line. If they were still around, I’d fly to wherever to take them for lunch and pick their brain. Why? Because, this is a simply brilliant way to handle such an assignment.

The client, a local flower company I presume, probably came to the agency and said:

“Well Jim, we’re not like them other floral shops. We got lots of different arrangements. All sorts of options, you see. Small, medium and large bouquets.”

And this is what they handed in.

Hundred bucks says a lesser-talented writer woulda botched this.

“No matter what you’ve done, a bouquet of flowers will fix things.”

“In the dog house? Get her flowers.”

But no. Ultimately, the writer carefully chose and arranged five words and succeeded in communicating a Godzilla-sized idea.

The beauty of a simple idea brought to life powerfully through great writing.

Gets me every time.

Mr. Sucky Ad

Took the Long Island Railroad to the city this morning. This little gem was on the train. The art direction was the first thing that caught my eye. Good work, art director. You did your job. The use of alternating with “Spoleto” and an all caps sans serif is nothing novel, but the type was arranged nicely, the opacity taken down slightly over a calming image. So good job art director. Now you have me.

Then I read it: “The Maine thing is no matter what you want, it’s kind of what Maine gives you that’s unexpected.”

Whoa. Let me read that again. Okay, still doesn’t make much sense. I think what they mean is “Maine gives you the unexpected.” First off, they could have just said that. Sure, the art director would have had less type to work with (sad) but people would have had less to read (good) and actually understood the message (essential).

But this ad didn’t stop at having a terribly-written headline. It went on to say “Have you discovered your Maine Thing yet? Visitmaine.com.” Oh, I get it. They’re doing a whole “discover your Maine thing” idea. Twist on words. Oh-so-clever. Not big enough to be all campaignable. Sorry guys. And then body copy?!!

Did these guys forget that the average Long Island Railroad Commuter brought an iPad, Kindle or Newspaper on with them? And those who didn’t are catching another 20 minutes of shuteye with headphones in their ears. The two-and-a-half seconds they accidentally gave you (perhaps because the art direction was nice) was all you had. And you blew it. Because when someone reads through that God-awful headline and realizes they don’t get it, you think they’re going to invest more time with you?

If you caught eyes with a pretty girl at a party you may walk over. Then let’s say she introduces herself by saying “How doing are you? The name I have is Rachel yes yep.” You’d probably be turned off and think something was wrong with the poor girl. See ya later, Rachel.

Same thing with an ad. We have to be super careful to develop and produce meaningful ads. Because it’s a lot to ask for someone to look at us. I mean, we’re trying to sell something. So if someone does take the time to look, we should give them something worth caring about. Or entertain them a bit.

This particular ad did no such thing. It was an art director’s dream, though. Lots of typography. Four photos. The logo and body copy are locked-up on a nice orangey banner. But wow. Long, boring headline. Word-twisting galore.

Now, right around now a number of you will be saying “Shloimy, it’s easy to say you don’t like it, but could you do any better?” Which is why I spent a few minutes writing the following headlines that would pair with a nice nature photo of Maine:

— Or you can keep riding this train to work everyday.

— Rivers and trees don’t have QR codes.

— Find yourself getting off track.

— Out here, no one comes by to punch your ticket.

I’m not saying any of these are super brill. But I do think they have thoughts or truths nestled in them. They’re definitely better than “The Maine thing is no matter what you want, it’s kind of what Maine gives you that’s unexpected.”

Know what I mean?