Just came across the following in an interview I’m using for a marketing piece:
Q: Okay, so let’s paint a scenario where—
A: Penis scenario?
Q: Yeah, let’s penis scenario where you often meet with your Creative Director—
A: I met with Greg this morning.
Huh.
Let me think kinda hard.
Okay, I don’t think anyone in this corporate interview said “penis scenario.”
Just a hunch.
I’m a believer in the unconventional cover letter. Partly, I get to be, because I’m a writer, and the hirer is seeking written competence; creativity matters. But I think any good cover letter, for any position, should be both lively and memorable. These people are sorting through hundreds of letters, all of a type. They’re weary. They’re bored. Their eyes are googly with jargon. Entertain them, and they’ll be grateful.
Here are the first few paragraphs of a cover letter I just submitted to Underground Advertising, a company that develops smart, funny campaigns for non-profits:
There’s another paragraph or two, very short, about what I do, including links to my website. (If they check the blog, they’ll read this. Hello, Underground. Call me.) Because I also believe in brevity. If they want more, they know how to click.
In this market, I don’t expect a response. But I do hope for one. And now, at least, they have a little piece of who I am.
There are words, and then there are marketing words.
Several years ago, I was working with a Marketing Director on a direct-mail piece. The product: a dog leash with a photo on it (of you, of your dog, whatever). His copy: “Perfect for a postprandial walk.”
I mean.
Marketing is not about vocabulary—unless you’re pitching high, say to academics or to other people with a tendency toward pretension. But vocab can be useful in other genres—film criticism, for example. Although my editor at New Times, who is a lovely person and I miss working with him (Hey, Erich!), would almost never let me get away with a zinger. He allotted me 2-3 SAT words every six months. He hated “echt.” He had strong negative feelings toward “echt.” “Ersatz” he looked a little more kindly upon.
“This is not The New Yorker,” he would say.
“It should be,” I would say back. After all, what’s wrong with making people look up a word or two?
Erich. You killed me. I am dead now.
I love unusual and sophisticated language. (Yes, I am one of those people with a tendency toward pretension.) But for marketing? That ain’t happening.