Presentation

We go to the computer company HQ about once a week to chew over our latest proposals and seek their feedback. The process is interesting: we go there fully trooped, with the account people and creative people about eight or nine in total. They normally have four or five people sitting chewing over what we have to offer.

I unfortunately don't have much Chinese. Most of the discussion, inevitably, takes places in Chinese - I appreciate this, as if you want to get specific or technical it's far easier to do so in your own language. However, I have an extremely low boredom threshold, and the question of how to occupy myself during the lengthy exchanges therefore arises.

Should I sit and doodle? Or sit and make notes? Should I observe the back-and-forth of the conversation, like a tennis spectator? Should I think about my own future plans? Should I disengage and tune out? These kind of questions. Thus far, I have (mostly) tried to be ultra-professional and observe the conversation. I can generally understand what kind of topic people are discussing, if not the content. So I sit there, eyebrow arched quizzically, a serious, profound, expression on my face. (Better sit silently and be thought a fool than open my mouth and remove all doubt, etc).

Fortunately, the discussion does not centre on my copy - the computing company seem happy (thus far...) with what I'm producing. But it does make me wonder how relevant I am to the operation. There's a phenomenon of Chinese businesses hiring Westerners (always Caucasian) for presentations and such. These people don't have to do anything; they are garnish, there to demonstrate an international aspect to the presenting company which it doubtless lacks. I don't feel as redundant (I do after all write all the copy in the adverts!), but perhaps my presence at the presentation has a useful aspect to it, whether I say anything or not.

Maybe I'm being too cynical here, and the agency is letting me get to know the computer company's people. The company's staff whom we meet are the international marketing department and therefore all speak good English. Unlike my agency colleagues!

Copywriting for a Foreign Agency

I'm the copywriter for this agency; I'm the man that handles all the English in their advertising - the slogans, the manifestos, the headlines, etc. Which is great - I like the responsibility and I like working so closely with words, handling the connotations and poetic weight of phrases. (I used to write a fair bit of poetry when in my late teens and early twenties - I won't pretend they were good poems (I never got a hang of metre, for example), but poetry does encourage a razor-sharp focus on the words, which is essential in advertising copywriting - you can't have any fat).

At the moment, we are working on several campaigns for a computer manufacturer (I won't say which, sorry!). The curious, or unfortunate, thing is that the campaigns are agreed with the company's HQ here in China. We got to their offices once a week or so to present our ideas, receive feedback and chew over suggestions, refining the ads until we get them exactly right. These ads are then transmitted to the company's offices around the world for translation. So you've got an essentially Chinese agency handling English copywriting duties for ads that will be translated into dozens of languages...

This means, for me, that the writing I do has to be crystal clear. I have to avoid language-specific tricks like puns, references, in-jokes, use of rhyme or alliteration, and all the things that don't translate. It does limit my remit somewhat - I like punning references in advertising! Effective and humourous, and a great way to double or triple your meaning - but that's how it goes. So my style has to be clear and crisp and easily translatable. Which is a good discipline, but not perhaps as fun as words can be. Has there ever been a better slogan than "You'll never get a better bit of butter on your knife?"

Well, that was a long pause...

I wish to resume this blog, as English copywriting in China is still a subject dear to my heart and with which I am greatly occupied. Since the last post, there have been several changes: I am now the senior copywriter for a major advertising agency, and I have also become a father for the first time. Our daughter is now two months old, and consequently my hands have been rather full! But I hope to return with renewed vigour, making observations on the copywriting business in China.

Prior to starting with the agency (whom, in the interests of anonymity and confidentiality I will simply call "the agency") I had a brief period of working freelance. I made a promotional website, put ads on the various expat and local websites, and attended various networking events. For a while it looked like I could make a living this way. The dream shimmered before me, alluring, enchanting. However, I didn't quite get the regular accounts which you need to make a steady living, and having a child really focuses your mind on your financial stability. Oh boy. Eventually, after the period of despair which surely must strike every jobhunter, I got the job with the agency, much to my delight. It's wonderful having a job which accords with my own skills and talents, such as they are...

The typical issues which confront every English writer in China still apply, though! So I shall be blogging about these, in perhaps more exact detail than previously. So that's what you've got to look forwards to!

Can You Learn Writing?

Nearly everybody knows how to write, but knowing how to write is a gift given to few. And this is how it should be - skills and talents are not distributed equally, and even if one does have a certain talent, it takes a lot of graft to become good at anything worth doing. The same is true for needlepoint, cooking, gymnastics, painting, playing the guitar, any activity requiring some skill. The article in the Guardian about Creative Writing classes, and their possible or actual benefit on one's writing, made me think about this, and about the work I put in to become a writer.

In simple terms, from the age of about 15 until about 20, I wrote voraciously, and from 20 onwards, I have written as much as time, motivation and the demands of work have allowed me to. I started writing for myself, as so many people do, after one of those romantic episodes which mark adolescence and seem so epochal at the time, and so absurd afterwards. Writing flooded out of me - short stories, diaries, poetry, reviews of books and music I was into, journals and musings - whatever happened to me, it became some kind of writing. (I foolishly tore up everything I wrote after the first year, but I estimated that it was some 400,000 words, which is about the length of Lord of the Rings). It didn''t matter that none of it was much good, the fiction and poetry especially. What did happen was that I would read back and sometimes be pleased or surprised by a good turn of phrase, a nice metaphor or use of sentence structure. That surprise was vital in encouraging me to go (after all, no-one else was reading any of it); new possibilities, new capabilities, new vistas, seemed to open themselves as I kept on writing.

If you're a writer, feeling this potentiality develop is the same as mastering a new song on the guitar, or making a particularly delicious meal if  a cook; your muscles in your particular field are developing. So keep on, keep on! It's appallingly easy to be deterred from maintaining such a goal; life crowds round, demands on your time grow, and isn't it rather childish to be investing such time and effort on a pointless hobby? Perhaps it is childish, but only in the sense of a child's satisfaction and pleasure in elementary achievements. We are too easily deflected from this, afraid of appearing foolish or narcissistic.

For writers, then, I believe that writing is a skill, it can be fostered if one has talent, it can be taught to some extent, but all the most valuable lessons will be ones which you learn for yourself. It takes time and it takes effort. This is the hard fact of writing. It's sometimes said that true mastery takes 10,000 hours of practise. How many have you put in?

Looking For Work

Being a freelancer, you're always looking for work. So on my website, I've got Skype, phone number, email address, a photo, my LinkedIn, Twitter and a Facebook page. Whatever way you prefer to get in touch with me, there's a way. It's the way things go: you've got to be as available as possible. Being freelance doesn't mean you have no boss, it means you have lots of different bosses, and you're always trying to find some more. But that's the way it works.

Being so visible has some unusual results. Two events this week alone underscore this. Let me tell you the good story first, then the odd one.

First of all, today, I was waiting for someone in a cafe, as we had a meeting. He was running late so I was contentedly reading a book (Anatole Kaletsky's "Capitalism 4.0", since you ask). The cafe was in a large office block so there were mostly business people, one or two having a coffee while doing something on their computer. I was reading and arching an sceptical eyebrow, when I noticed a young woman standing in front of me.

"Hi, sorry, are you American?" she asked.

"No, I'm Scottish," I said.

"Oh, I see. I was wondering if you can help me? I'm applying for a job and need some help with my CV."

So I helped her with her CV and covering letter - well, I had nothing better to do, to be honest - and she told me that she also needs some help with some research papers she is writing. So that was a nice little job prospect that came out of nowhere. The point is - work opportunities can come when you least expect them. If you're friendly and approachable, things might unfold in your favour.

Then again, it might not. A few days ago, I was working away, when someone asked to add me on Skype. I accepted, and a Chinese man started chatting. He asked where I lived - I said Beijing, and what could I do for him? Then he started asking  personal questions - did I like Chinese girs? Sometimes Chinese people are a little forward with questions, through curiosity, so I said I had a Chinese wife. Then he started to make some offensive statements, though not directed towards me personally - just absurd, intrusive statements, and nothing to do with writing! I said "I don't want to talk about this, I'm a writer and editor and am busy."

"Sorry," he said, rather meekly (as meekly as words on a chat program can convey), then went offline.

So visibility has its own problems! One day, when I can afford to get a secretary, the weirdos will be shielded. But at the moment, I have to handle all-comers. Some good, some bad!

Networking

Being an ex-pat in a foreign city like Beijing, life is new and exciting on a daily basis - so many new places to visit within easy reach - yet, or perhaps I should say and so, lacks the rooted quality found in places you know well. Consequently, you have to make an effort to get out there and meet people, press the flesh and make connections. Almost every foreigner here lacks the social network they would have "back home", no matter how long they've lived abroad, because of the transitory nature of the ex-pat experience and because of the deep-rooted nature of social bonds you have at home.

So there's a place for networking events. These come in two kinds here in Beijing, as elsewhere, no doubt: there's the social ones, organised via internet or Twitter ("tweetups" is the terrible neologism), or business ones. I have attended a few of the business ones, which frankly are bemusing at best. I would estimate that of those attending, one third are interesting, one third are boring, and one third are idiots (not to be too harsh, but there are a few drunken guys just interested in chatting up women). Every professional in China (Asia, more likely) has a business card, so armed with a few dozen of them, you exchange pleasant chit-chat with strangers for an hours or so, and see if you can make any connections right for your business.

Do people do so? I sometimes wonder. I have met a few interesting people who would be worth interviewing (I profile foreigners of interest for the ex-pat magazine I write for), such as a film festival curator, a TV producer, and that's all. No writing work has come my way as a result. Maybe it's more the case that networking events open to anyone and everyone will always lack the exclusivity and focus which genuine indistry events would be able to sumnon. All the same, if you're new in a city, I guess there are worse things to do.

Social Media Work

I started my most recent job writing blog articles, but wound up doing ever more social media work. How did I manage that? It certainly wasn't my plan - I thought I would just be doing the blog, but found myself doing more stuff with Twitter and Facebook, as well as doing outreach for the blog (for which read: commenting on other blogs to get the link). But working for a smallish company, or one with a small internet staff anyway, I found myself doing more and more things as time went on.

I thought, then, I'd say something about what companies are doing with Facebook and Twitter, etc, and how this is affecting copywriters.

Your company blogger might well be expected to write about the culture, people, products, production, solutions, customers - whatever. The point is it's still writing in a fairly traditional way - you write an article a day (on average) about some aspect of the company, avoiding the hard-sell approach, giving information and making it all sound super and fun. You're part of the soft-sell PR campaign, but hey, it beats teaching or sales or working in a factory. Some of it, lest I sound overly cynical, can be genuinely interesting; there are some very good corporate blogs out there, and some very good blogs about social media and corporations (Brian Solis being the best I can think of).

But this is changing. Now writers are at the forefront of the social media interchange platform: they run Facebook pages, Twitter accounts, LinkedIn profiles, YouTube video blogs, and more. Only the foolish or amateurish shamelessly plug their company or products: the idea is to generate interest in what you do, show that you are trustworthy and interesting, and ultimately, to create a "community" of followers. You talk to your customers on your Facebook page, or Twitter, or on your blog, and find out what they want or what their problems are. The idea of all customers being treated equally doesn't apply any more; those who take the lead in furthering your community are given little goodies and rewards. "Writing", in the sense of producing stand-alone articles, is less of a priority; being friendly and approachable, responding to queries, being diplomatic, showing the good side of your company, initiating conversations - all of these take precedence.

This not to say that blogging will fade away. There's no better way to get your message out: and every facet of the company can do this; you can gain trust implicitly by sharing what you do. But social media allows interation without the time investment, and you can give the illusion of a kind and caring company each interaction. What company wouldn't want that?

This is where things are going. So brush up on your tweeting, your blog and your Facebook: writing will be taking place here.