The 11 Most Important Things I Learned in Ad School

Top-10’s are for pansies.

11’s the key number.

1. It’s what you think that counts. This is probably the most cliché thing on this list, but it’s also the most important. Being a subjective business, it takes an incredible amount of ability to judge your own work to compile only the best. Shopping my book around I got 20 different responses from 20 different people. In the end, it wasn’t as if I could listen to any one of those opinions. I was forced to trust myself.

2. Stay humble. The people who think they’re the shit usually aren’t. And the ones who don’t think they’re the shit usually are. Unless they’re not.

3. Compete only with yourself. Some other guy in your class did a sick campaign? Awesome. Some other guy in your class did a shitty campaign? Awesome. Who cares? What did you do? Are you proud of what you’re presenting, regardless of whether it’s the best or worst in the class? For more times than I care to remember I felt the evil pangs of jealousy and the even more evil pangs of gloating rise up inside me depending on what others showed. If I could do it all over again, I’d have made more of an effort to keep my head down, my blinders on.

4. Love the process. This is a Fenske original. When you’re enjoying doing your work, it not only doesn’t feel like work, it makes whatever you do better. It’s been said before, but your enjoyment shines through. People can see it. It's weird.

5. See everything as an opportunity, not an assignment. In 2 years, I worked on more than 100 brands/products/projects. 90% of them didn't end up in my book. But I approached every single one with the intention that it would, no matter how bad the product, partner, or circumstances. Looking back now, I think that made a big difference.

6. Learn more from your peers than your professors. The professors are brilliant. The professors are rich. The professors are successful. The professors are old. This is not a bad thing, it is merely an undisputed truth. With few exceptions (Charles Hall), it’s hard for them to be tapped into the modern culture of the 20-somethings whom you are often advertising/communicating to. Your 20-something peers are. And so are you.

7. Care. When you care about your work, when you want to do well, when you take pride in what you do, the work is forced to be the best it can be. It has no choice. It’s when you’re tired and your brain taps out at mediocre that you stop caring. And it shows in the work.

8. Don't create ads. Create culture. This is straight from Charles Hall, and it's evident in most of the real-world work most of us deem as "great." Great work doesn't piggyback off the latest catchphrase or that year's cool kid lingo. It makes its own.

9. To be inspired to make ads, don’t look at ads. I've learned that when you’re stumped and need to seek inspiration, you shouldn't look at the awards books. You should listen to pitchfork. Look at ffffound. Look at computerluv. Look at The Dieline. Shit, read The Onion.

10. Listen to yourself. This was really hard for me for the first year and a half of school. Still is, actually. I am a shy and uncertain person by nature (why else would I have a blog), and it’s hard for me to let loose and believe in what I’m saying. I often feel like I am the only person on earth who feels this way, but more often than not, the exact opposite is true. If you’re a living, breathing, thinking human being, then what you have to say, from the deepest depths of you, will always be valid to other living, breathing, thinking human beings. From two professors’ suggestions on separate occasions, I’ve read Self Reliance by Emerson. It wasn't recommended twice for no reason.

11. Work hard. I hate to say it, but it has to be said. The harder you work, the better your work. That old Fenskeism, “Hard work is a waste of time if your idea sucks” is valid, but to counteract it, hard work is never a waste of time if you get a good idea out of it.

I’ve learned about a thousand times what’s on this list, but this is, in my view, the top pinnacle of that enlightenment. Apologies if you found any of these trite or cliché. That's only because they're true.

dubs. out.

Quote of The Week, Boyko - 4/6/09

Words are a powerful way to convey an image. The auditory quality of the spoken word adds the dimension of sound, evoking an even higher level of engagement, especially when it's delivered in the right environment. In radio, what is said, how it's said and where it's said are equally important.

-Rick Boyko, VCU Brandcenter

Tony Granger recently judged the ANDY's and had this to say: "This year's ANDY submissions are inspirational stuff. With one exception. Radio. Not one winner. Not even a finalist. That's really sad actually. Where are the beautifully written spots that use theater of the mind to make you laugh or cry? Anyone wanting to go for easy pickings next year. Radio."

I've heard through the grapevine that the Brandcenter is going to be offering a course in radio writing taught by Fenske. This both excites and annoys me.

It excites me because I think radio would be a cool class to take.

It annoys me because I can't take it.

dubs. out.

Now That's How You Write Copy

We worked on the X-Games brand last year. Very cool assignment. Very tough assignment.

Before we got started, the Martin Agency showed us some past X-Games work. One of the campaigns they showed (from 2006, out of the LA-based shop, Ground Zero) stood above all the others, and was the all-too-familiar dual punch of being both intimidating and inspiring.

Not just beautifully put together, shot and animated, but surprisingly, beautifully written. (ACD/CW Kristina Slade, ACD/AD: Rodrigo Butori)



COPY: Would the world look different if you had the eyes of Paul Rodriguez? Would ledges and rails that have faded in the background secretly reveal themselves to you? Would you have the vision to liberate them from the architect's intentions? And if you did, would this view of the world change you? …Or would it change the world?



COPY: You can see it in a smile like Rob Machado’s. Just look at the man and you know you’ll never see anyone so happy to go to work. He’s got that inborn style that only happens when true talent is motivated by sincere pleasure. You can see it between him and the wave, how he surfs in harmony. And those long, soulful lines he carves are the love letters he leaves behind.



COPY: He may not look like the nicest guy, but Brian Deegan’s got heart. The kind that gets on a motorcycle and tries to make it fly. The kind that believes physics can be tamed. That you can soar upside down with a motorcycle above you and the ground closing in. The kind that knows that only the desire to win can overcome the fear of consequence. Brian Deegan’s got that kind of heart.



COPY: If you could pick any superhuman power, it should be Dave Mirra’s focus. With it you could fly. You could leap tall buildings in a single bound. You could win more X Games medals than anyone in history. And you could be in last place, with only one chance of redemption, and walk away with a gold medal around your neck and a stadium full of hanging jaws. You could, if you had Dave Mirra’s focus.

I suppose great copy is made greater by the peerless voice of Alec Baldwin.

dubs. out.

Nike “Fate”

This is the kind of ad that makes little kids want to be nasty athletes.

Or advertising copywriters.

Or both.



Notice the shots of both kids falling back laughing onto their beds at the end. That didn't need to be there. The spot would have worked without it. But the thing that has made Nike advertising so memorable over the years has been the seemingly unnecessary little details like this. To me, that's what separates great work from good.

dubs. out.

Care

I love making ads. It sounds ridiculous. But I really do.

There’s always that feeling of starting out without any clue. That momentary panic when you’re given an assignment. That ‘oh, shit’ minute.

‘This is it,’ you silently say. ‘This is where everyone’s going to realize the true hack I know I’ve always been. Where the genius I will never become will finally—and thankfully—be exposed.’

But part of you thinks something else.

Part of you thinks about what you could do. The anticipation of doing what’s been done by no one before you and conceivably, by no one after you.

And that’s the part I love.

Could this be the one that defines my career? The one that people will see and get excited about and remember and love? Could this be the one that inspires someone to do something they’ve always wanted to do and never have? Buy a product they’ve never bought that will change their life? Get involved in a cause they’ve always felt strongly about and never realized?

Could this be the one that makes someone see some aspect about the world in an entirely new and different and amazingly optimistic way that makes him or her think, ‘Man, that is so right on. That’s how I see things, too. I just never knew it.’

I love how advertising makes the mundane seem extraordinary. How it forces you to see the wonder in literally everything that exists. This wonder can make train transport remarkable, multivitamins incredible, insurance unbelievable.

I love that there’s a certain amount of fear in this business. But I love even more the pride. Because pride is where the fear comes from. It’s worth more than the money and the fame and the toys. It can’t be shown off on your wrist or backed out of a garage or sipped from a glass.

Pride is what keeps you working two days straight not because of a paycheck or a promotion or an awards show, but because you truly want to make it great for no one but you. It’s knowing you’ve figured out and created something no one out of 6 billion ever could.

It’s someone coming up to you and telling you your work touched them. I can’t say I’ve ever experienced what that feels like, but I know this much.

It's worth caring about.

dubs. out.