Compelling words

Earlier today I watched Mr Funnyman himself, John Cleese, give a lecture about creativity. I found the video over here at the most excellent 'Brain Pickings' website.

He talked about how people operate in one of two modes: 'open' or 'closed'. These loosely align with 'right' and 'left' brain.

In 'closed' mode - and this is the mode we're in most of the time - we are purposeful and anxious, thinking about how much we have to do; we may be impatient and tense and we're definitely not feeling playful. In this state, says Cleese, it is impossible to be creative.

When we're in 'open' mode, however, we are less purposeful, more contemplative, playful and curious - and this is the state which gets our creative beans jumping.

According to Cleese (and he was rather un-Monty-Python-esque about it all until the end, although he did share plenty of lightbulb jokes), it's important to set aside a regular time and space to be playful and thoughtful so that we can reach our creative selves.

He expands on this and talks about how organisations are stifling creativity by creating environments without playfulness, but with plenty of solemnity and rigour, around processes and systems. In fact the two modes are complementary and essential to each other: when we're in 'open' mode, we are more likely to work out how to solve a problem. When we revert to 'closed' mode, we can then implement the solution efficiently.

Much of his talk could be summarised by this pithy quote from the wonderful Alan Watts:

You can't be spontaneous within reason.

So pop over and watch Basil Fawlty share serious - but not solemn - thoughts about creativity.

Let's remember to laugh, play, and have fun with our creative selves.

New year, new decade, new intentions ... it's that time again when many of us decide to make resolutions and changes, shift our behaviours and create new goals.

We use language to express those resolutions to confirm them as much to ourselves as to our family and friends.

As we know, language is a powerful tool. The world that we have created for ourselves is a reflection of the thoughts we've held and the words we've used to express those thoughts and intentions.

In this context, one word that needs to be handled with great care is the word 'want'.

We often use it to express our desires and needs. Indeed, the Oxford English reference dictionary defines 'want' as 'desire; wish for possession of; need'.

But the same dictionary also defines 'want' as 'to be without or fall short by', 'a lack, absence or deficiency' and 'poverty; need'.

Thus we could argue that when we say 'I want' something, we are stating that we do not have it as well as expressing the desire for it.

We are confirming our state of lack and therefore reinforcing that state of being, which pushes away that which we say we 'want'.

So, when you are stating your new year resolutions, take great care which words you choose to use.

Happy new year: may you realise all your dreams and aspirations in 2010.


And remember: mind your language.

Is my bank diversifying?

Or is someone out to get me?

Recently, I received this 'Westpac Accidental Death Application Form' in the mail.

Has anyone taken up this (rather resistible) offer?

Proof, yet again, that it pays to look critically at your headlines and brochures, and how you word your offer.

(I declined this one.)


Remember to mind your language, especially if you're un-dead.

This blog is about language, not politics. Political behaviour that uses ambiguous language to curtail the use of language, however, definitely gets my attention.

Ireland's politicians have seen fit to introduce a new crime of blasphemous libel to replace the Defamation Act of 1961.

Many articles already discuss it here, here and here.

Please bear with me while I offer you the short, sharp version.

Article 40.6.1.i of Ireland's Constitution protects freedom of speech for its citizens as follows: 'The State guarantees liberty for the exercise of the following rights, subject to public order and morality: The right of the citizens to express freely their convictions and opinions.'

It qualifies this freedom of speech with the imposition of an obligation to implement the constitutional offence of blasphemy: 'The publication or utterance of blasphemous, seditious, or indecent matter is an offence which shall be punishable in accordance with law.'

(Although the Defamation Act of 1961 fulfilled those obligations, offering up to seven years in prison and a hefty fine, only one blasphemy action was ever taken in the State since the introduction of the 1937 Constitution.)

Ireland's Minister for Justice, Dermot Ahern, has just repealed the Defamation Act. In doing so, however, he has had to satisfy the constitutional obligation.

And he has, in fine style.

Blasphemy now has its own special place in Irish law. The fresh, crispy Defamation Bill introduces a new crime of blasphemous libel. Although not punishable by imprisonment, fines of up to €25,000 may be imposed on offenders.

So, Minister Ahern has replaced draconian legislation required by the Constitution with slightly less draconian, more sweetly tweaked legislation.

Are you still with me? Good.

Minister Ahern has offered reassurances about Ireland's freshly polished rod of blasphemy.

He says that the revised provision would require at least three elements to be present: the material would have to be grossly abusive or insulting in matters held sacred by a religion; it must actually cause outrage among a substantial number of adherents of that religion; and there must be intent to cause such outrage. Such intent was not previously required.

The problem I see here is that successful prosecution of a case of blasphemy may hinge on proving or disproving the existence of some of these elements. That will rely on construal of meanings, behaviour and intention. Where there's interpretation, there's ambiguity.

And there's the conundrum: the possibility of using language cleverly in a court case to prove that inciteful language was used with blasphemous intent. This clever use of language may be the sword on which true freedom of expression falls.

If I'm afraid of breaking a law that doesn't allow me to say what I think or feel, does this not contravene my basic rights as a human being to express myself?

If I insult someone's religious beliefs – reprehensible as it may be – does my insult damage their beliefs?

It may incite heated debate, but you could argue that contained prejudices are even more dangerous than those expressed in language.

Of course, this whole issue could have been neatly sidestepped with a more considered, logical and democratic approach. Minister Ahern could simply have held a referendum and asked the people of Ireland if they thought the aforesaid draconian constitutional requirement should be removed altogether.

Minister Ahern decided not to, however, because it was "a costly and unwarranted diversion".

As human beings, each of us is responsible for our own actions and our own thoughts, which ultimately emanate from our beliefs.

Language is a vital way for us to communicate those thoughts and beliefs; via language we may even be convinced to change them.

Any attempt to legislate people's use of language is akin to attempting to control their thoughts and beliefs. It limits healthy debate, restricts robust discussion and creates a level of resentment and fear.

In the words of Benjamin Franklin:

'Without Freedom of thought, there can be no such Thing as Wisdom; and no such thing as public Liberty, without Freedom of speech.'

Remember to mind your language and what you say and write (particularly if you live in Ireland).

I browse many websites.

I read many blogs.

And I'm definitely a Facebook and Twitter fan.

Via Twitter and Facebook, you can tell your followers and friends what you're doing, thinking or feeling in a particular moment. (A friend of mine once described a tweet as a 'brain fart'.)

Social networking sites are fun. They create a sense of online community and shared interests, and it's exciting to be part of stimulating and ultra-topical e-conversations.

Twitter is a particularly interesting phenomenon.

Many personal development and marketing identities use Twitter's 140-character long update box to share words of wisdom and perspectives on life.

The reason? To offer value to their followers. And they can kill two birds with one stone (sorry, Twitter bird!) by linking their tweets to their Facebook status.

I've found it fascinating to observe how some of the people I follow on Twitter – including some of the personal development 'gurus' – have started to sound like self-important preachers and evangelists.

Is it because of the language they're using?

Or is it me?

Am I not open-minded enough to hear the messages without sermonising overtones?

Am I particularly sensitive and over-exposed?

In fact, I believe it's simply about context.

Many of the great 'quotable quotes' we know and love came from memorable, significant speeches and transformational writings.

Twitter, however, is a 140-character e-pulpit with no room for a background story or how a particular life lesson was learned.

Communicating this way via social networking sites – and via Twitter in particular – is not conducive to providing a context. Of course there's room to include a link to the full story. It just doesn't work in isolation.

These pearls of wisdom have become like annoying rough stones in my shoe.

So I'll just unfollow, unfriend or unplug.

Because of course it's not you. It's me.

What do you think?

I attended a Toastmasters meeting this evening where we watched a recording of Barack Obama giving his inauguration speech.

This cleverly crafted speech was beautifully structured, emotionally charged and riddled with rhetoric.

No matter how inspirational a speech is, however, it will soar or sink on its delivery.

And how Obama delivered. His thoughtful pauses, body language and considered gravitas rendered his words powerful and sincere.

I was particularly intrigued and fascinated by the musicianship of the speech. (That's only because I'm a musician with a language hang-up, or a wordsmith with a musical hang-up, depending on the situation.)

The dynamics of a piece of music are created with strategic silences, which highlight the beauty of the individual notes being played or sung.

In the same way, orchestrating the right combination of silence and sound add light, shade and glorious colour to a speech.

Obama's wonderfully rhythmic cadences, intonation and silences combined beautifully with simple, powerful words to bring us an inauguration speech to remember.

No matter what your particular political persuasion is, one thing is certain: Obama is a master orator and a dignified performer.

What a welcome change from the previous incumbent.


Remember: mind your language - and your silences.

The other day my lovely friend Michelle T and I were talking about new business ideas and catalysts of change. She asked me about my turning point; what had caused me to change how I operate, resulting in what is now a growing copywriting, communications and marketing business?

I remember the moment well.

The statement that stopped me in my tracks was not a particularly sophisticated one unlike, for example:

'Success is the sum of small efforts, repeated day in and day out' (Robert Collier)

'People rarely succeed unless they have fun in what they are doing' (Dale Carnegie)

or even the funky

'Maintain an attitude of gratitude' (Wallace Wattles, Science of Getting Rich).

It was simply this:

'If you keep doing the same thing, you'll keep getting the same results.'

Yes I know: although it's true, it doesn't sound particularly cool or clever.

This statement, however, was the one that opened my eyes and rattled my cage of lethargy.

I realised that continuing to sit at my desk – reading, absorbing, thinking, but not taking action or changing my behaviour – might increase my level of knowledge, but wasn't going to introduce me to new clients or create a profitable business.

Sometimes it's the short, sharp messages that have the most profound impact.

You just have to be ready to hear them.

What's your revelationary statement? Please share in the comments box!


Remember to mind your language – and listen out for those revelationary statements!

A recent story about a three-year old boy in the USA whose parents had named him Adolf Hitler Campbell got me thinking about branding. (Read about it here.)

This little boy originally made the news when a cake shop refused to supply a cake with 'Happy Birthday Adolf Hitler' written on it.

A name is just a name, isn't it?

Apparently not when it's the name of the leader of the Nazi movement, a name that evokes memories of intolerance, hatred and genocide, a name wrapped in layers of anger, grief, fear and distress.

The situation is compounded by the fact that the boy's younger sisters – JoyceLynn Aryan Nation Campbell and Honszlynn Hinler Jeannie Campbell – are named after high-ranking Nazi officers.

In their attempt to bestow 'uniqueness', the father said he named his son after Adolf Hitler because he liked the name and because "no one else in the world would have that name".

In marketing, branding is a long-term proposition. And your name – like it or not – is your very own brand.

Now, the beliefs of the family in question and their wisdom in choosing such names for their offspring are not central to my post here. As an aside, many people believe that the name you are given at birth is vital to the person you will become, but again, this belief is not part of my discussion.

I am curious about the challenge this child will face, lumbered with this brand.

"They're just names, you know," his father told the Express-Times newspaper. "Yeah, they (Nazis) were bad people back then. But my kids are little. They're not going to grow up like that."

During a recent marketing workshop I attended, presenter Marc Makrid advocated the following: "You are the custodian of your brand, so be uncompromising in protecting its integrity".

For little Adolf, the gauntlet is cast. He will have to confront and break though the negative connotations of his name, and build a whole new story.

Or else abandon the brand, and choose his own.


Remember to mind your language, whatever your name.

Robert and I love a good 'ripping yarn', which is why we were really looking forward to seeing the remake of the 1951 classic sci-fi film 'The day the Earth stood still'.

But it didn't deliver. In a big way.

It should have been renamed 'The day no-one really understood why the Earth stood still'.

SPOILER ALERT: stop reading this now if you intend to watch the movie!

The nub of the original version is this: an alien called Klaatu lands on Earth and wants to address a group of world leaders to warn them that if the people of Earth threaten to extend their violence into space, Earth will be destroyed.

Klaatu demonstrates that the aliens have the power to fulfil this threat by bringing the world to a standstill. All machinery, transport, and electricity are shut down. Because Klaatu has already warned a group of the world's leading scientists and his warning has been broadcast, all human beings witness proof of the aliens' power to follow through on their threat.

Unfortunately the remake glosses over this point and completely underplays the movie title's promise. Yes, Klaatu explains to the protagonists about impending disaster. However, Klaatu doesn't address world leaders, nor does he explain to humankind the reason for his visit. So when the aliens cause the Earth to stand still in the remake, it's incidental. Human beings wouldn’t understand the significance or relevance of the event.

You may be asking why I'm complaining about a disappointingly bad remake of a science fiction movie.

My point is this: if you have an intriguing headline or promise, you'd better deliver.

If you insist on tantalising your prospects with a headline oozing promise and curiosity, you'd better be sure that you explain yourself and the reason why – and you'd better make certain that the explanation has everything to do with the headline.

Otherwise you'll disappoint and frustrate the hell out of your clientele!


Remember to mind your language (especially if you're an alien).

Some people concern themselves only with the content of a book. To them, it doesn’t matter what the book looks like. For these people, content is king.

For others including me, however, it’s a different story.

What the book looks like matters just as much as what’s written inside. I collect books. I love first editions. I love books with a provenance, with a story attached.

For example, one of my most prized books is an edition of Charles Dickens’ The Old Curiosity Shop which is signed by Florence Nightingale.

When I set out to put together my second collection of poetry, 17 poems: one for every year of innocence, I wanted it to be different from traditional poetry collections.

I wanted to present the poems beautifully. I wanted the book to be hand bound. I wanted a gorgeous cover. I wanted a book that would be a delight to touch, hold and feel. I wanted it to be a trophy on a book shelf.

And if people liked the poetry inside, well, that’d be a bonus!

17 poems: one for every year of innocence is a limited edition: there are only 150 printed in this particular design and format. This adds to the special feel of the book.

The other unusual aspect of the book is that each volume includes a CD of me reading the poems. This adds another dimension to the experience and helps to make poetry more accessible to those who are more 'auditory' than 'visual'.

The saying ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’ does not apply here. Please feel completely free to judge it by its cover.


And remember: mind your language!

If poetry bored you to tears in high school, there’s probably a really good reason.

At Ted Nicholas's Dream Information Publishing Seminar recently, I was wrestling with the idea of how to make poetry publishing profitable.

I have just published my second collection of poetry, 17 poems: one for every year of innocence. (Ginninderra Press published my first collection, Exposure, in 2003.)

As I listened to Ted speak about the importance of getting into an emotional state conducive to writing compelling copy, I started to compare the poetry writing and copywriting processes.

They’re similar, but different.

Let me explain.

Usually I write short poems with layers of meaning and emotion, because of course I write poems (or songs) about an experience, a moment or an event which affected me in some way. I’m baring my soul, and if I’ve touched on a universal theme in the process, then there’s a chance that readers may connect and empathise with my experience.

When I write marketing and sales copy, I write emotional and passionate words that will move, touch and inspire the prospect/reader. I set out to create that empathy on purpose.

The major difference between them is the intention.

As a poet, I write for myself. I suppose you could call it self-indulgent. I absolutely need to write. It’s a kind of purging. The words shoot out from my soul in some inexplicable, out-of-control trajectory, splattering all over the page. Sometimes I have to clean them up and make them more presentable. With a bit of luck, those who read my poem may find that it resonates with them. When I’m writing a poem, however, that’s the last thing on my mind.

With copywriting, it’s a different story. I write with the reader completely in mind. I sit down with this prospect, who has some desperate want which I intend to satisfy. I then have a conversation with this person, identify all his/her fears, hopes and expectations, and propel him/her inevitably towards taking whatever action I’m suggesting.

So, great poems create empathy in spite of the intention (or they don’t, in the case of those ones that bored you senseless at high school).

Great sales copy creates empathy because of the intention.

(Oh, and one pays more than the other.)


Remember to mind your language – and your intentions!

Although this post isn't about copywriting per se, it is about a style of writing that's special to me: poetry.

I'm very excited that the Hon. Michael Atkinson MP, Attorney-General, Minister for Multicultural Affairs, will launch my second collection of poetry on the 4 December at the SA Writers' Centre here in Adelaide.

Available now from White Wave Press, 17 poems: one for every year of innocence is the first in a limited collection series.

This collection is particularly special because each edition includes an audio/mp3 CD of me reading the 17 poems. The CD also contains bonus readings of two poems from my first poetry collection, Exposure, which was published by Ginninderra Press in 2003.

Only 150 imprints of 17 poems: one for every year of innocence have been created. Each one is numbered individually.

Each volume is printed on beautifully watermarked 190 gsm paper and exquisitely hand-bound by Chasdor Bindery, South Australia’s most reputable book-binding specialist. The blue sun linen hard cover is embossed in silver with handset type.

This volume will make a delightful, unique gift to a friend, family member or loved one.

For only $35 plus postage and handling, this limited edition collection and bonus audio CD is a fine-quality gift which is a delight to include on any bookshelf, and is a 'must-have' for every poetry lover and discerning reader.

If you'd like more information about 17 poems: one for every year of innocence, send an email to 17poems AT whitewavepress DOT com or visit White Wave Press.

I'm also thrilled that one of my poems was featured in the anthology Poems in Perspex, Max Harris Poetry Award 2007, which was launched at the SA Writers' Centre recently. That collection is available from Lythrum Press.


Remember, mind your language - even if it's poetry!

I was thrilled to have had the opportunity to attend the Dream Information Publishing Seminar presented by my mentor, Ted Nicholas, in Sydney this weekend. (That's me and him in the photo on the left.)

Ted is a gentleman and a living legend, arguably one of the best direct marketers on this planet. I met him for the first time in 2007 at Mal Emery's Silent Killer Seminar, although I'd read his information and known about him for a lot longer than that.

He ran out on stage, had us waving our arms in the air as we shouted affirmations to change our emotional states, and grooved with us to the Bee Gees.

He gave us his all over the two days. He provided phenomenal value in the depth and breadth of content, sharing his insights and thoughts not only about copywriting, but about life, health, wealth, and taxes!

I find that as a copywriter, it's vital for me to revisit regularly the essentials of emotional direct response copywriting, of which Ted is an absolute master.

Ted's enthusiasm and energy, as well as meeting and talking with other seminar attendees, reignited my excitement about copywriting and the power of compelling words. After working on a major editing project almost full time for the last nine months, it was great to be reminded of how satisfying it is to create copy and words that sell.

One subtle distinction which Ted made that really resonated with me was that sales letter copy must not only BE true, it must SEEM true. This is very much the case in a marketplace overloaded with large bold red headlines screaming promises of permanent cures and money making schemes.

The trick is to write the fine line between both.

Another great suggestion of Ted's was that sometimes a killer sales letter headline will be found among the testimonials provided by your customers.

Thank you Ted and Bethany.

And thanks also to all my fellow seminar attendees, who helped make the two days such a rewarding and memorable experience. I look forward to hearing from you and communicating soon.


In the meantime, don't forget to mind your language!

When I was at college, one of the favourite sayings was 'Yesterday I couldn't spell engineer, now I are one'.

This reflected an almost universally held belief that engineers were inherently unable to communicate, spell or grasp any concept of grammar.

Engineers are regarded as the technologists, the inventors, the designers, the ideas people. They dream and scheme, design and implement, and their project deadlines are always yesterday. They burrow through data books, drink cold coffee, and scribble circuit diagrams on the backs of envelopes. They are responsible for many of the technological achievements and advancements witnessed and enjoyed by our world today.

And this would seem to be in spite of their apparent inability to communicate.

But have we fallen into the pigeon-holing trap? Are we too quick to consign engineers to the 'non-writer, non-communicator' pile?

Engineers and writers alike have been using language to communicate ever since any of them uttered the first 'mama' or 'dada'. After all, language is an intrinsic part of how we co-exist as human beings.

Perhaps engineers are not good writers because it hasn't been made important for them to know how to express complex technical concepts in simple terms.

Calculus and complex equations are the language engineers learn to use to express the world around them.

Most of the engineers I know have fantastic imaginations, a great turn of phrase and a quirky take on many aspects of this world we live in.

In fact, all the saying 'Yesterday I couldn't spell engineer, now I are one' really needs is a good editor.


Don't forget to mind your language!

Welcome to the world of writers everywhere.

Here I am, a wordsmith, poet, songwriter – and I'm stuck in front of every writer's nightmare: a blank screen and blinking cursor.

This website used to be just a pretty online brochure. I was very excited when Robert helped me to restructure it into a dynamic and interactive e-venue for conversation and debate – all part of the great and expanding vision for Wordsworx.

Now, only a few posts into this site's life, I have a problem. And it's this. Even though I have a list of more than 20 topic ideas, I don't know what to say!

You see, I don't want to rehash the same old topics that every 'guru' and his or her protegé have written about, such as the importance of having a conversation with your readers, the power of testimonials, how to write a press release or article, positive vs negative language, and so on.

Although these things are important, I want to offer my own insights here. And have a bit of fun while doing so.

Is writers' block real?

Or is our fertile imagination offering us a globally understood excuse for not being able to produce?

Is it just our creative self sleeping on the job?

I believe that the process of actually writing or typing words and allowing them to flow without being critical of them is a good way to nudge the sleeping creator inside and say, 'hey you, wake up, come here and give me a hand'.

The more often you write, the more readily your creative self will realise it's on duty.

By going through the physical mechanics of writing at a certain time more regularly, in a familiar and comfortable space, you will send a wake-up call to your creative self. It will snap to attention, rub the sleep from its eyes, and will delight in guiding your thoughts and your fingers along an original path.

Obviously I need to apply this practice to my blogposts! When I used to be editor of a technology magazine, I had no problem turning out an editorial each month.

Bear with me while I wake up my creative self and make her a cup of strong coffee.


And remember: mind your language!