Copywriters: never mind who's the Daddy, who's the market?

A tweet from a very nice bloke I follow on Twitter reminded me of something I've wanted to spout off about for ages.

But first, the tweet that jolted me into action - and words.

As you'll hopefully see from the screenshot, it was from @BestWordsmith, a bloke called Doug - a very good copywriter from what I've read and, as far as I can tell, (as much as you can tell via sociable media) a thoroughly decent chap. Go on, give him a follow. Then check out the other copy monkeys I follow - they're all good people and well worth a sneak up behind. (If you're a writer and don't currently appear on my list, it's nothing personal... well it is... personally, I'm crap at keeping my lists up to date - so please give me a shout below and I'll gladly add your name).

Doug's tweet directed me to a big long list of copywriting tips from a fellow marketing hack called Bill. If you're a writer, you'll have heard of him - Bill Fryer - a Big Daddy amongst the Copy Club.

Now Bill's obviously pretty successful. He's one of the breed of copywriters who's utterly, totally, completely commercially focused.

'What?' I hear the writers scream. 'To be a decent writer (of the marketing copy variety) you are inherently commercial.'

Yup. But I'm talking about being commercial in terms of marketing yourself as opposed to being commercial about marketing your clients.

And here comes the other 'but'. And the thing I've been meaning to mention for ages:

Just who does this breed of copywriter think they are marketing to?

Take a look at the link - if you haven't already.

As I said, a great big long list of copywriting tips. For copywriters.

Now writers, I don't know about you, but my market is not a bunch of copywriters looking for tips on how to improve their skills. My market is a bunch of marketing bods and business bods looking to improve their bottom line.

I'm not talking about posts on SEO, discussions on grocers' apostrophes and debates on copy style - the benefit of a potential client reading those is obvious. They show the writer has more in-depth knowledge; they show the writer thinks beyond wasting pixel ink; they show the writer cares about their craft.

And they show the writer to be someone who can add far more value than the client who can merely string words together.

You know that client. It's the client that forces their version upon you. The cart horse client who drafts their idea of how the copy should be, challenges you to beat it and after you duly knock it into shape and beat its potential pulling power out of sight, still doesn't drink the water.

The client who really shouldn't be writing copy.

So are Bill's tips for that client? Because they seem like tips for writers to me.

Which begs me to ask, 'Is it all a little bit of peacocking?' (Yup, you're allowed to invent new words on your own blog by the way.)

Or is it misdirected marketing?

I've not made up my mind yet but at least I've got it off my chest.

I dunno, you tell me.


Fresh meat, Billy Bob? Copy that!

Howdy pardner,

Lost your way some?

Doan worry nun, weycome to de deep sowth!

A place where families stay real close-knit. Where love is free 'n' eezy and where, if you don't know yo way roun' a good ole country choon on a banjo... well... you won't fit in that good.

But hell, doan worry nun, we'll always find a way to fit in you!

An' yo sho weycome to try our homecooked food anytime. We like ta mosey on down to our local store, Billy Bob Morrison's. Oh he doan run the show no more... hell, he six feet in the groun'. But his boy Ken... boy oh boy... he be turning out some gooood shit on those shelves.

Aint that far away too.... 'bout 12 miles up yonder track. We can git up there lickety-split on the back o' Bertha. She's our prize sow an' she sho goood at taking a fine ole load from time to time, if ya get ma drift.

Anyhoo, we cooking up some damn fine sausage right now pardner... real thick 'n' juicy.

An when ah say thick... ah'm talkin' girth... oh boy... that's right... pork thick!

PORK THICK... ya hear?

Not beef thick.

Not lamb thick.

That's right pardner, PORK THICK. Six of 'em too.

An' doan let a liddle thing like a missin' full stop put you off. Lots a shit go missin' roun' these parts, aint no shame.

Now, sho ya won't stay an' join us?