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My daughter's half-English, but she'll only be asked about the other half

“You’re the son of a Nigerian and a Norwegian, which is quite unusual. And I wonder, do you feel a very strong sense of being a role model for British Norwegians.”

I could have obsessed over any number of lines from the Richard Ayoade interview Kristian Guru-Murthy attempted to conduct this week. There were perfect wordplays, brilliantly obtuse retorts and moments of laugh-out-loud silliness. But is was the pointed question about Ayoade’s Norwegian heritage that stuck in my mind.

For in the UK (and every other western country), mixed-race people are defined by the darker-skinned part of themselves. In most discussions on race Richard Ayoade isn’t English or half-Norwegian, he’s half-Nigerian.

50 years ago this bias was understandable. The vast majority of the UK population was white, and so any other race was seen as intriguing and ‘exotic’ (and yes, as a lot of far more hateful things as well.) But today, when 20% of the UK population is non-white, and there are over 1 million people of mixed-race*, the novelty has surely worn off. So why do we still ask mixed-race people about the parent with the higher melatonin level?

I never had to answer questions about my nationality or ethnicity. I wouldn’t, being blond-haired, blue-eyed and of the very English surname ‘Taylor’. But, for my daughter, it’s something people will ask her about frequently. And she won’t be allowed to give the easy answer.

Her mum is an Australian citizen, who was born and brought up in Singapore (until she was 11). But her ethnicity (courtesy of her great-grandparents) would be classified as South Indian, Tamil from Kerala to be precise. Despite her great-great-grandfather possibly being a French soldier.

So when people ask my wife, as they frequently do, “Where do you come from?” her first response is “Australia”.

Inevitably she’s then asked “Yes, but where are you from, originally?”.

She answers “Singapore.”

“Yes, but originally? Where are your parents from.”

“Singapore.”

Cue a puzzled “Ok, but…”

Eventually, she’ll explain that a long, long, fairly irrelevantly way back, her family came from South India.

My daughter will have to answer all of these and another layer of questions. But, despite being born and brought up in Bristol, few people will ask her about her Englishness.

*http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-20677321

6 word brand stories

Every writer has tried to better Ernest Hemingway's 6-word legend:

“For Sale: baby shoes, never used.”

Every writer has failed. However, we all keep trying. They're a great way to practice writing with economy and focus.

And this, for brands, is key. Brand stories, marketing messages, and advertising campaigns all have to grab people's attention and convey their message in little to no time.

Below are a few of my attempts at 6-word brand stories.

“Exhausted, elated, she finished an athlete.” (Nike)

“Finally, her grandchildren knew her face” (Skype)

“Turning the key, their future began” (Rightmove)

Let me know yours.

#brand stories #writing techniques #copywriting #ernest hemingway #nike #skype #rightmove

Simon Cowell: brand storyteller

Another Saturday night, another desperation of wannabes. Each with a song to sing, each with a degree of delusion to expose. And each with a story to tell.

For whatever you think about X Factor, there's one thing it does well - tell a story. Every episode is a library of tragedies, comedies, quests and rebirths. Every character is laid bare, every emotion is wrung and extracted.

By the end of the series the nation has fallen in love with the hero, millions tuning into to witness their moment of triumph.

And then it all falls apart.

For while the brand is built and the brand story firmly established, the product is invariably terrible. And more importantly, it has nothing to do with the brand.

The first single may occasionally have a personal connection to the singer (although it's more likely to be a Westlife b-side), but the album almost certainly not. It will be a generic collection of songs, chosen before the winner was known, produced afterwards to loosely fit their determined musical style.

It will be a cookie cutter product for a carefully curated brand.

So yes, take time crafting your brand story. Make it emotional, make it funny, make it connect with your audience. Just make sure your product deserves it.

#Brand Strategy #x factor #storytelling

Dear Emma Watson,

Thank you very much for your speech the other day. It was simple, eloquent, and insightful.

I’m very sorry a few of my gender took it upon themselves to demonstrate the idiocy against which you were appealing. I’m also sorry The Telegraph decided your outfit was more important than your words; although it’s not surprisingly when the majority of their attitudes seem to pre-date Emily Pankhurst.

Since having a daughter, I’ve certainly become more aware of and horrified by the daily abuse, intimidation, patronisation, discrimination and general stupidity with which women have to deal. And I’m sadly aware that I’m going to have to explain to my daughter that “not all men are like that” at more than one point in her life.

Like you, I don’t want feminism to be seen as anti-men. And like you, I’d like masculinity to be associated with things other than sport, war, strength and leering. Luckily, like you, I was brought up in a household where I witnessed what a real man does. He takes care of his children, he hugs them when they’re sad and when he’s proud, he teaches them vulnerability is ok and asking for help normal.

So to you, to my wife and daughter, and to people in general, I promise to do the same. I also promise to be braver about telling friends when they’re being sexist. If only the majority of my sex did this, much of the casual sexism you, my wife and my female friends experience would disappear. Because from my experience, most casual, ‘harmless’ misogyny comes from men trying to impress other men. We really are that stupid.

In the meantime, below are lyrics I’ve written for a song not yet finished. I don’t know if I could have written them before I became a father, but I know I must say every word, syllable and letter of them now.

Thank you once again for your words.

Yours sincerely,

Sam Taylor (Son, Husband, Father, Friend, Feminist)

---------------------------------

I son of Adam or perhaps Steve,

Am eternally enthralled by the daughters of eve,

The wondrous women for whom my heart bleeds,

Not of sorrow, of pity or sympathy,

But of pounding pulsing life and love,

Of these wondrous women I can’t get enough,

From the women who raised me, To the one I thee wed,

To the daughter I hope of which one day will be said,

This wondrous woman,

This strongest of all,

This one I will always

Hold above all,

This beautiful being,

This labour of love,

This one for whom I,

Can never give enough

I will not stomach that word, or that one either,

The causal misogyny only serves to seether,

Don’t dare defend your mother or protect your sister,

Then use the slurs that scold and blister,

You can’t love these women and say these words,

The hypocrisy's disgusting, the ego absurd,

The respect of these women is worked for and earned,

I can only hope that in this life I’ll deserve

These wondrous woman,

These strongest of all,

These ones I will always

Hold above all,

These beautiful beings,

These labours of love,

These ones of whom I,

Can never give enough

For you I’ll always,

For you I’ll never,

For you I cannot,

For you, for ever

Words need to ripen, ferment, even spoil

On a table off the kitchen sits a local rag, some papers and pens, a few letters and files and a circular plastic container, the size of a large pizza, containing thousands of cherries, sultanas and currants that have been soaking for two weeks. He opens the lid of the container.

“Smell that,” he says.

It’s not a smell, it’s a state of mind, a place where people can go. It’s a smell that conjures images of forest walks and Snow White singing to blue birds and being a kid again staining your clothes and fingers beneath a mulberry tree.

“How did you do that?” I ask.

He whispers his response. “Time,” he says.

This paragraph, from a beautifully written article in The Australian, may ostensibly be about fruit cake, but it’s the value of time and patience that it extolls.

Sometimes the best writing does happen in a flash. “What'd I Say,” the song that can lay claim to having given birth to soul music, was improvised by Ray Charles during a live set.

But far more often, it takes time. Leonard Cohen spent 5 years and 80 verses crafting the 7 verse “Hallelujah”.

Time provides perspective, it allows for refinement; it gives ideas the chance to evolve, ripen, ferment, even spoil.

I’ve dictaphones humming with melodies I thought worthy of The Beatles, but on replay found unbecoming to The Wurzels. I’ve notebooks tattered with words I thought Shakespearean, but on re-reading found Daily Star-esque. Without taking time to reconsider and re-assess, I’d have inflicted these rotten works upon the world.

When a hurried tweet can render even the most well-intentioned thought an ill-considered offence to millions, time is not a luxury, it’s a necessity.

So leave that melody to vibrate, leave those words to unfold, leave that tweet to hatch. Go make a cup of tea, have a good night’s sleep, take a vacation; give yourself and your work some time.

Good things come to those who wait.

#writing techniques #the australian #copywriting #songwriting

'Effing' and blinding

David Cameron (almost) swearing during a campaign stop for the Scottish referendum was national news. Why? It wasn't novel. Politicians swear all the time. And, call me cynical, but I doubt it was entirely spontaneous.

During President Obama's 2012 election campaign his team tested the use of swear words in email copy and found voters responded positively to the odd curse word. (http://www.slideshare.net/DistilledSEO/amelia-showaltersearchlove-london-2013). So low and behold, swearing, the language of anger and passion, was calmly and carefully inserted into future emails.

For Obama's voters the swearing showed he was human, and as frustrated as them. For brands, it's used to show that they're rebellious, and if it causes offence (and generates press coverage as a result) all the better.

The problem though, is that anyone can swear. Those brands that do, need to show that they mean it.

#branding #david cameron #obama #brewdog #fcuk #swearing #brand strategy #copywriting

#dontstopthemusic

Across the school ears pricked up. Children glanced at each other, then stared at the walls through which the music soared. Violins, cellos, tubas; sounds at once completely foreign yet utterly familiar.

For anyone who doubts the importance of music education, just watch the first 10 minutes of Channel 4's 'Don't stop the music'.

It's as vital as maths, science and english. It enhances language development, increases IQ, and improves spatial-temporal awareness. It increases self-confidence and teaches self-expression. Most importantly, it brings joy.

I was lucky enough to attend a school where music was encouraged and very well supported. The Head of Music (John De Saumarez ) didn't care what you played, as long as you played something. Whether Vivaldi or Nirvana, regardless of ability, he would find a school concert to put you in.

He gave me the confidence to be creative, and the belief that creativity could show me the world. And he was right.

I only studied music as far as GCSE level, but it is through playing music, watching music and putting on musical events that I have made my best friends, met my heroes, and developed a career I genuinely enjoy.

More than maths, more than science, even more than english, it is music that has given me the skills I use, rely on and benefit from most today.

If you have an instrument gathering dust, you can donate it to a child who really needs it by dropping it off at Oxfam. Find out more at http://www.dontstopthemusic.co.uk/

#music #education #dontstopthemusic #opinion

Stop thinking, start writing. Pt 1

Before I begin writing copy for a commercial job I try one of a few exercises to get my brain into gear. For instance, I pick a selection of words from a random book on the shelf, then write for 3-5 minutes using these words as prompts (in the same order that I picked them). No stopping, no thinking, just writing. I prefer to do this with pen and paper, as I find it reduces the temptation to stop, self-censor and edit. Below is the result of one such creative kick-start, the prompts for which are shown in bold...

Luscious fruit weighed heavily on the tree, bowing its branches and casting shadows of its many arms wide across the lawn. The skeletons of fallen family members littered the grass, devoured by the many that lived below, prospering on the tree’s bounty.

For generations the tree’ s gifts had decorated the table of the family in whose garden it resided. In summer bowls had overflowed with ripe fruit, greedy hands barely making a dent in the seemingly never ending supply. In winter, while the tree slept, the family mourned the run of sticky juice down their chins, the sweet smell just the right side of sickly. They had plenty of the fruit still to eat, in stews and pies, jams and crumbles but that sun-kissed freshness was still hungered for.

From the tart tang of the fruit not given the luxury of ripening, the delicate perfume of those picked at just the right moment, the concentrated sweetness of those hidden behind branches until past their prime: this smorgasbord of flavours drew admiring gasps from all who were lucky enough to dine on them.

The Fruit Tree was beloved by so many, that The House, or more specifically The Garden, became a fixture on the society diary, as much a part of the summer calender as The Old Boys Cricket match, the debutante’s dance or the Concerto in the Park.

#writing techniques #fiction #short story #copywriting

With heavy hipster heart I'm embracing my tendency to write pop songs. Now I just to find some way of contacting Kelly Clarkson.

#songwriting #songs

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