Why words matter
Back in the late ‘80s, I wrote my first novel. I was 15. This masterpiece was going to launch me as a young prodigy on to the world’s literary scene. Far more importantly, it was going to get me out of my GCSE English homework.
Needless to say, it did neither of these things.
Rather predictably, my beloved novel was utterly unreadable and found its true destiny at the sharp end of my dad’s office shredder. Meanwhile, I reconciled myself to parsing the, frankly, lesser talents of Wordsworth, Chaucer and Hardy.
I mention it, because this long-lost endeavour was the very first – and the very last – thing I ever wrote on a typewriter. I have been writing ever since, and not once in the past thirty-plus years have I turned to a typewriter to do it (Thank goodness. Think of the Tipp-Ex budget).
And yet, when putting this website and blog together, almost every image search for copywriter or content writer returned a picture of a typewriter. Hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of typewriters.
If I wanted to convey some sense of mid-century nostalgia, a vintage caprice, or a soupcon of Hanksian whimsy, a typewriter would be the perfect image for me (sorry, Tom).
But that’s not what I want to do. I write about tech and innovation, mainly. I want to convey professionalism, and creativity and freshness. I want my readers to understand that developing content and writing copy is, at heart, a business-critical function that has a direct impact on the bottom line.
I want you to know that I can help you make your business grow through words.
A picture of a typewriter doesn’t do that*.
Nor, incidentally, does a picture of an immaculate, industrial-chic desktop, or louche sofa-based lounging with a laptop (I don’t know about you, but that just says ‘imminent backache’ to me.)
Copywriter? Accountant? Master of the Universe?
Who can say?
Look, I love Canva and Unsplash and Getty Images as much as the next procrastinator. And I’ll be the first to admit that I spent the first half of this website-building process just thinking about images. It’s very addictive; seductive even.
I am not for a moment suggesting that your content’s appearance isn’t important - I’ll be returning to the subject of how design and copy work together in a later post, because it is key to being read.
But I have yet to find an image that encapsulates the details of writing business content as a profession: the discovery, the research, the planning, the editing, the measurement, the impact.
I haven’t seen anything that represents this particular desk-based, coffee-fuelled, screen-lit occupation or distinguishes it from any other form of knowledge work.
For that I need words.
And so do you.
So, I’m going to end this first post in my re-launched, re-invigorated website, with a simple statement.
What we write and the way we write it matters.
A picture is not worth a 1,000 words. Not even close. And definitely not if you have detailed information that you want busy people to actually read and respond to. For that you’re going to need words. Brilliant, beautiful, carefully-considered words.
*Just to be clear, neither does a picture of a fountain pen, a note pad, or heaven help us all, a quill. The writing process really isn’t that stuck in the 19th Century.
