When it comes to writing fiction, crude stereotypes are clearly a bad thing. Not only are they cheap and lazy, they’re almost always unrealistic and therefore not believable as ‘real’ people. (In fact, believe it or not, one of the characters above is not even a real stereotype.)

If the book you were reading carried on like that for much longer, you’d probably stop reading it. But how then do you explain the popularity of the tabloid press and trashy gossip magazines, with their incredibly two, or even one-dimensional depictions of ‘celebrities’, politicians and sports stars?

Mostly these are harmless, perhaps even fun if you’re that way inclined. There’s also a feeling that the people involved have somehow asked to be depicted as crude stereotypes – wags, toffs, divas, ladies’ men…et al – or even that it’s the price they have to pay for their fame.

And whether it’s in fictional writing or glossy gossip columns, stereotypes can be a very useful form of cultural shorthand; helping the reader grasp the basics of a character and get into the real story more quickly.

Certainly this use of stereotype as a fast track into the mind of an audience is at the foundation of marketing and advertising. Single mum on the bread line, busy businessman, football mad young boy, retired couple worried about the future…the same few characters crop up in brief after brief.

Of course there are reasons for this. For a start you can’t target every individual as an individual and still maintain any semblance of economy of scale. It would cost so much to target consumers in this way that even the most solvent business would probably go bust very quickly. And then there’s the physical impossibility of such an attempt. I know social media affords brands greater insight into many of their customers’ lives than ever before, but they still only see the persona people want to display publically. Few people post their genuine hopes and fears online, only the side of their personality that they believe makes them seem more interesting or attractive to others. Whether to fit in, impress, or somehow show how ‘individual’ they really are, this almost always ends up in yet another form of stereotype. And there are still far more people that don’t use social media than do.

Whilst it easy to see this crude stereotyping as cynical, it’s harmless in the main. But at what point do generalisations, invented to aid the mass marketing of a mass produced product and proliferated by the media, end up producing, then reinforcing social roles?

One particularly sinister example was very nicely covered by Charlie Brooker in a recent Guardian article. I don’t know how long the piece will be live for, so to summarise: in the immediate aftermath of the recent attacks in Norway, the media, or more specifically the live news channels and their ‘experts’ delivered an almost universal commentary that the initial bombing displayed ‘all the hallmarks of an al-Qaida attack’. This was the prevailing story for nearly 24 hours, seriously affecting the wider public’s understating of the event and reinforcing one of the most troubling stereotypes of recent times, namely that terrorism is a solely Muslim pursuit. Therefore, whenever an atrocity is carried out the finger of blame will always point to the Muslim community first. Clearly in this case, and doubtless many others, this was not only incorrect, but irresponsible.

Stereotypes can be useful and even amusing, but they can also be downright dangerous. Handle them with care kids.

In fact I couldn’t for the life of me think why no one else had had this thought before. Whilst hastily drying myself off (yes, drying) my mind reeled with the potential. This was going to catch on; it was going to be BIG. I’d probably win some kind of award for services to humanity, God I didn’t even have a decent suit.

Well, I’d just have to make that the next priority. First, get this idea out there, then buy the suit, then practice the acceptance speech for The Most Awesome Idea in the World, Ever.

Dry and squeaky clean, I rushed to the laptop and Googled it. Balls.

Apparently quite a few other people had already had the same idea. Loads in fact. Several of them had even called it the exact same thing I was going to. Which was very annoying. However, it did tie in nicely with the idea itself which is devastating in its simplicity: The Annoyance List.

I know, good h’uh? If only I had a modified Dolorian, I’d be sorted. I briefly toyed with the old art director trick when confronted with an idea that’s already been done: just nick it and make it look nicer. But sadly every ounce of my visual flair and design skill went into this blog, giving you an idea of how unachievable that would be for me.

Anyway, rather than let the thing die, I thought I could at least get a lazy blog post out of it. So here goes…

The Annoyance List:

1. Having an amazing, life-changing idea, only to find hundreds of other buggers have already had it – like this, and this
2. Screw-top shower gel – how’re you supposed to unscrew it, pour some into your hand/sponge and then rescrew it one handed, without losing the gel in your hand, knocking over the bottle, or slipping onto your ass? (I did all three)
3. People with horses
4. Socks that still leave toe fluff after dozens of washes (yes M&S, I’m talking to you)
5. People who behave unBritishly – pushing in, failing to thank door holderopeners, road raging…etc
6. Radio DJs who go on and on and on about how amazing a new band who have one half-decent song that sounds a lot like an old hit from the eighties, and then you buy the album and it’s a bit rubbish
7. The overuse/inappropriate use of the word amazing – also genius
8. Not winning the lottery
9. People who use religion, race or sex/sexuality as a means of ‘justifying’ their own appalling actions and prejudices
10. Primark on a Saturday

Come on people; if we all add to the list I’ll soon have enough to sell the idea to a publisher, who’ll pay for a designer to make it look nice, and then the glory will be mine, MINE, MINE! … Of course I mean ours.

In fact, in the lovingly-crooned words of Chris Martin ‘Nobody said it was easy. But nobody said it would be this hard’.

Assuming that I would be a natural, I spent a few weeks plotting, planning and skimming the intro to Novel Writing for Dummies, before duly rattling off draft one in about three months. And the general consensus is that it shows.

Shortly after completion I felt the criticisms I received were valid, but that the issues would undoubtedly sort themselves out if I just left them alone for a bit. Four and a half months later, and they really haven’t.

There’s not much to do; just rewrite the plot, entirely change the hero (apparently having a genocidal bigot as your main protagonist is bad) and dramatically adjust the tone. So I sat down full of enthusiasm and…did…nothing.

Suddenly the size of the task seemed monumental. It’s one thing to identify the problems in a piece of work, but quite another to know how to fix them. Particularly when choosing the wrong ‘fix’ could send you off on the wrong track, which could result in months of additional work. So I sat there for a long time getting stressed, feeling inadequate and generally envying my friends in ‘real’ jobs where you get told what to do. Yes, you heard me… Many a time in my day job as a copywriter I’ve found myself protesting the restrictions of a brief. Well, be careful what you wish for, because given all the freedom in the world, I find myself longing for a (good) brief.

Fortunately, after a couple of weeks of tearing my hair out and driving my partner crazy, I’ve finally started working on draft two. It will probably be balls too, but at least it might get me closer to where I want it to be. And you learn so much by making mistakes. Annoyingly, that old adage is very true.

I don’t suppose anyone wants to write it for me do they?

It’s worth noting that these are not the same as the seven elements of music – Rhythm, Melody, Harmony, Dynamics, Timbre, Texture and Form – but rather a more specific set of instructions for writing a catchy song.

1. Economy – you don’t have long, so get to the point quickly and succinctly. And don’t be tempted to overcomplicate things just because you can.
2. Imagery – painting a picture in their minds is a shortcut to your audience’s understanding and the creation of emotional hooks.
3. Prosody – the ‘appropriate marriage of words and music’ to you and me. Make sure the piece works as a whole, with the words mirroring the tone of the music and vice versa.
4. Universality – write about big, common themes that everyone can relate to. This is why love and loss are so prevalent in popular music.
5. Originality – no one wants to hear something that’s been done (better) a hundred times before, but don’t be so out there that you scare off the audience.
6. Repetition – if you have hook, use it. Much like in advertising, the best songs repeat particularly catchy phrases, melodies and lyrics to get inside the listener’s head.
7. Repetition – see what they did there? This one’s so important it’s in twice.

Of course, many of the finest songs play fast and loose with these elements, but they might just kick start the creativity of anyone with writer’s block. And it’s much easier to break the rules if you know them.

 *Sadly/stupidly I didn’t make a note of the source, so can’t credit anyone properly. Sorry about that. 

I don’t want this blog to turn into too much of a rantfest, so I’ll keep this brief: they are the single most offensive, most intrusive, most irritating form of brand promotion ever. More annoying even than the Halifax ‘ISA, ISA baby’ radio station (see comments).

Let’s say you only have a few moments for lunch. Or perhaps you’ve just nipped into town to post an important parcel or buy some groceries to feed the family. You won’t get far before you run into a roving pack of these crusty leeches. Essentially hippies who’ve decided to earn a pretty good hourly rate while still pretending not to have sold out, they strategically position themselves for maximum annoyance. They dance, they sing, they hop up and down like retarded tiggers. The males all call you ‘mate’ and wink grotesquely, the females attempt to flirt in patchwork trousers and tie dye tops, ‘seductively’ smiling and tugging on their disgusting braids.

In short, they do everything they can to encroach on your personal space, and then, when you politely say ‘no thanks’ – perhaps because you already give money to charity, you really are in a hurry, or you just don’t want to hand over your credit card details to any old tramp in the street – they give you a look that implies you might well be the most heartless human being in existence. Once in a while, a particularly cretinous one will even shout something like ‘don’t you care about the starving millions then?’. In situations like this I see no reason why it shouldn’t be entirely acceptable to proceed directly to the nearest sports store, purchase a cricket bat, and then beat them to death with it.

I suppose chugging must work, or why else would our high streets be choked with body-odour-infused hemp stench. I know that, almost by its very definition, charitable work is good. I also know that, despite stories of greedy holding companies and the greasing of influential third-world palms, most of the money goes directly to improving the lives of people who really need it. But they make me feel bad about giving.

An angry person is not a generous person, well certainly not towards the cause of the anger. Next time one of them dances alongside me on my way to Pret, I’m going to kick them in the nuts and post a fiver directly to Africa.

The last couple of centuries have seen a raft of revolutions, from the Agricultural to the Technological.

And with each we’ve made massive strides forward in everything from healthcare to manufacturing. The average Western citizen now has more food, trinkets and a vastly superior quality of life than ever before. But we still want more, and we want it now.

At least that’s what big business is banking on. Take, for example, the large supermarket chains. Every day they battle to sell a wider variety of goods than the competition, cheaper than the competition. I know that’s sort of the point of a capitalist economy, but more stuff, more cheaply means more exploitation, more pollution and, inevitably, more plastic crap in landfills. And very few people outside of a corporate shareholder meeting would honestly want that.

Back to the hippies. You see, in this world of models, athletes and movie heroes, no one in their right mind wants to identify with the stinky beatniks. (What child dreams of growing up to have insects in their dreadlocks and stomach-churningly filthy toenails peeking out of their sandals?) So we write them off, not unfairly, as freaks and weirdos. Despite the fact that their messages – world peace and harmony, the casting aside of material gain as life’s primary goal, protecting the miraculous life giver that is our planet – are undoubtedly ones we should all be heeding.

If they’d only scrub up a bit we might just listen to them. Which makes this mess pretty much their fault.

Damn hippies.

Why oh why oh why do you persist in changing all the ads I like for no reason?

Creme Eggs is a fine case in point. The ‘Here today, goo tomorrow’ campaign of the last few years was wonderful, and I greatly looked forward to the latest humorous destruction of a yummy, gooey, chocolatey egg….mmmm, chocolatey egg.

Anyway, the new ones are a pale imitation. In fact they verge on lame. And the ‘get their goo out’ thing is just cheap innuendo.

The same goes for the new Orange cinema spots (why drop the hilarious film makers, why?).

And who the hell thought it was a good idea to change 02’s strap line to include a stupid, arrogance, implying, comma – ‘We’re better’……….wait for it……….‘, connected.’

The only reason I can possibly think of to keep changing perfectly good ads, whether they need changing or not, is to line your own coffers. If every time a brilliant ad came along you just hung up your pads and pencils, then there’d be no need to keep pointlessly rewriting the same old briefs and rebranding the same old brands. Then there’d be no need to hire creatives to make this stuff up. And no need to pay them extortionate….oh, ok.

Can we pretend I never said anything?

Yours faithfully

Tom

Having watched two highish brow science programmes in two days, I’m left with the feeling that our latest and greatest theories about life, the universe and everything, must be hokum. Either that or I’m a bit thick.

Both Wonders of the Universe and Everything and Nothing were fascinating and informative. Both were beautifully and evocatively shot. Both were fronted by engaging, interesting, articulate presenters. Both managed to convey the vast uncertainness of the universe and how unlikely it is that life exists at all. Both filled me with wonder at the ability of a species of wobbly, mostly water-filled creatures to comprehend even a tiny fraction of how amazing everything is.

In short, both were undoubtedly television at its very best.

I sat rapt for the duration. I was moved. I was learning. I basked in reflected glory from the triumphs of the once-in-a-generation minds who figured this stuff out. I felt the power of science in proving its assertions. I understood why the age of religion is in decline (certainly in the West anyway).

And if you talked to me five minutes after watching, I’d hit you with fact after indisputable fact. I’d be erudite, informed and persuasive. I’d burn with the zealotry of the newly converted. The only problem is that five minutes after that I’m floundering.

‘No, there definitely was a Big Bang. How can I be so certain? Well, it’s because the sky at night is dark. And something to do with somebody’s Uncertainty Principle. Or Theory. Or something. Oh, and there’s dark matter and light matter and they normally cancel each other out, but sometimes they don’t. And anyway they took a picture of the universe in a much, much earlier state, far before our planet even existed. How? Well…err…that’s obvious….errr…they….hmmm, it does sound a little unlikely doesn’t it?’

In the sudden comedown after my knowledge high, I’m left with the nagging doubt that this must be how a faith-shaken religious follower feels after being given the full sales spiel by a charismatic shaman/grand high priest/cult leader type. ‘Ok, I’ve got it. In fact I can’t believe I was so blind. Thank you Father, thank you.’ [Turns to leave] ‘Erm, actually, can you just remind me how the bit about the fishes works again?’

I know that I’m in no position to cast aspersions, I can’t even retain the dumbed down telly version of the facts, but it seems to me that the truth is: we have no frickin idea. About almost all of it. The current best theory is just that. It will be disproved and replaced by another, and another, and another.

But I love that as a species we’re trying. I love that scientists dedicate their whole life to figuring it out, knowing that they’ll almost certainly fail. And I love that the BBC make such amazing programmes about it.

I’m just not sure we’ll ever really know anything.

Are you British?

Do you like pies?

Are you currently in a week?

If you answered ‘yes’ to the questions above, then British Pie Week is perfect for you!

Five reasons you should get involved:

1. Pies are delicious.
2. This is pie week (yes, right now)
3. Jus Roll have an amazing looking Desperate Dan style ‘cow pie’ on their British Pie Week site.
4. The best pies around are from Pieminister.
5. The word ‘pie’ is perfect for creating puns. For example, I once had a pie in the shape of an ice cream cone from a festival stand called Piescream.

Eat a pie now.

That is all.

Those of you lucky enough to have spent any time with me discussing my career and multiple achievements (Bronze swimming badge, Year 7 punctuality award, et al), will be aware that I started on the dark side: account management.

Despite the grief suits (as they’re affectionately known) receive from creatives, it’s actually a surprisingly hard job, certainly to do well. Any hot young bucks hoping to enter the non-stop sex and glamour party that is advertising, or seasoned veterans looking to fine tune their skills, could do a lot worse than heeding the three As of account management, as detailed below by my own fair hand:

Act calm and collected

In a nutshell, your job is to be at the centre of everything. You must have your thumb in every pie, your finger on every pulse, and your head up your derriere. The truth is if you actually thought about how important your job is to the process of producing good work, if you comprehended even a fraction of the consequences of messing up, well you’d be trying on a lovely white jacket in a padded room in minutes.

Trust me; don’t think about it. In fact, the less thinking the better. Just delete those emails, scrub a few things off the to do list and practice saying ‘great, it’s just great’ every time you’re asked how a job is progressing. See, it feels better already.

Act concerned

Obviously you don’t give a flying monkey’s arse how anyone other than yourself feels, but it’s important not to let this show. The clients must feel like their every phone call, email or inane comment is unbelievably important and interesting. The creatives must feel like you’re fighting passionately to sell their half-baked ‘ideas’ in. And your boss must believe that you actually have put in a superhuman effort to keep the job as profitable as possible, even if this means outsourcing to third world orphans who’ll work fourteen hour days for a small cup of rice.

Clearly satisfying everyone isn’t going to happen. So fake it.

I recommend practicing your concerned, earnest and trying-your-hardest-honest faces in front of the mirror for at least fifteen minutes a day. That way they’ll never know you just couldn’t be bothered.

Act hot

Most of the time your job involves either delivering or receiving bad news. And everyone knows that goes a hell of a lot smoother if the person doing the delivering/receiving is smoking hot. In the unlikely event that you got through the MD’s interview on merit, don’t despair: there are proven techniques for overcoming this. I’d recommend the following to lay down a ‘smoking hot screen’ that should last your whole career, both years of it:

• Short skirts/tight trousers – pretty self explanatory this one
• Fake nails, tan and white teeth – if it physically can be faked, it must be
• A power haircut – it must be expensive, it must be painfully trendy, it must look ridiculous
• Pointy shoes – no one ever robbed anyone blind and got away with it in sensible, non-patent shoes
• Come on eyes/smile – no matter how boring, ugly or pathetic the person you’re talking to is, always make them feel like they might be in

Failing that, no one ever got fired for undoing a shirt button or two in a meeting. You know what I’m saying fellas.

Well that’s literally everything I know about rising up the account management ranks and reaching the pinnacle of client services satisfaction: in other words, how to become a ‘Super Suit’.

You’re welcome.

* Four of these were me.