That big secret to blogging? As part of my theatre training I took playwriting courses. One of my instructor’s gave me one of the best bits of advice that was so simple you could have easily missed it. This professor would assign copious amounts of writing assignments. Each class something was due. Sometimes several things. He chalked all of this up to a simple axiom. “Writers write,” he said. And write we did. Plays, scenes, vignettes, character studies. Writers write.

And bloggers blog. I’ve had a blog since 2005 and I can tell you that the act can ebb and flow. However, when I am at my best is almost always when I am practicing the craft relentlessly — when I am writing/blogging a lot. And it’s not just me. Most bloggers attribute success to developing a well-oiled habit. A technique rich with refining and editing, in addition to voluminous writing. And it doesn’t stop with blogging either. Developing this creative process is a key component of creating any kind of content — from tweets to viral videos. It’s all content and it’s all honing a craft — just as you do in the theatre and in any art.

This is just the first in what I hope will be a series of posts where I can share tips with you from theatre that are uniquely applicable to the business world. And … SCENE.

First, let me give credit where it is due. The expression ‘clowns and balloons’ comes from a longtime client of ours who is a car dealer. He said that many dealers want more “clowns and balloons from the manufacturer.” This term is shorthand for having a sales event for the sake of having a sales event. More sizzle than steak.

Why should you be deathly afraid of clowns and balloons? Because it probably means that your message, your value, your unique selling position has eroded or evaporated entirely and you don’t have a leg left to stand on. So the best prospect for getting people to pay attention to your brand is to rely on clowns and balloons to do the work for you.

Of course we aren’t being literal and limiting this warning to just balloons and a grown man with a red rubber nose. Rather, clowns and balloons are all of those advertising stereotypes that make all of us cringe as they scream “come on down.” Starbusts, animals, gimmicks, and like-minded stunts.

If you find yourself renting a helium tank and looking up ‘clowns’ in the phone book — stop. Round up your team and head off-site with a wipeboard. It’s time to re-think your message. In that sense, maybe clowns and balloons aren’t so bad after all. Think of them as that cautionary, check-engine light for your brand.

Contrast this with all of the red carpet-like reviews ads are given during high profile events like the Super Bowl and the Oscars (even on this blog every now and then). Sure, it’s a fun conversation to have but it’s like like having a sports discussion about which team’s uniforms are the most aesthetically pleasing. It’s secondary. The team with the most points at the end of the game wins, just as the ads that sell ultimately win.

We can talk endlessly about how the fan-created Doritos ad was voted as the most popular pick by USA Today and YouTube but I wonder if they sold more chips … My own personal aside is that I think anyone can write a funny sketch with someone getting a ball to the crotch but I think it takes a professional to move the needle and sell some chips.

Moving the needle is what it’s all about — not making clever, sexy ads. You need to sell more chips, beer, online job services, or whatever your particular widget may be. That’s not to say that you can’t be creative in the process but you can’t simply be creative for the sake of being creative and hope by accident that some chips get sold. I also say moving the needle because results can come in lots of shapes and sizes — sales dollars, units sold, website traffic, etc.

Ultimately I think that’s the difference between a professional sales and marketing strategy and writing a skit for the school talent show. Buying a one-second spot was a gutsy, creative move. It had people talking about it and anticipating it not to mention it was cost-effective, moved product and ultimately demonstrated ROI. It’s not an easy thing to do but I think sometimes it can look easy. At a glance it’s a funny guy shouting “High Life” that literally passes in the blink of an eye but in the boardroom post-mortem it is an objective achieved.

Photo credit: Rebecca.. via Flickr

It’s only four minutes, but it gives a great microcosm of an agency/talent relationship gone wrong. I don’t know the back story on this actual relationship, I doubt few people do. But there are some easy conclusions to be drawn, and lessons to be learned.

1. If you’re going to hire someone famous as your spokesperson, bring them into the circle. They may not want to be in the circle, but at least make that effort. Educate them about your product; even bring them into the creative process – again, if they wish. Then, when you step into the recording studio you’re all working toward the same goal.
2. Make sure they are at ease with the copy. This goes back to involving them in the process. Don’t put words or phrases in their mouth that they are not comfortable saying. My guess is that Mr. Welles saw this copy for the first time when he walked into the recording studio.
3. Don’t over-coach. Would you try to tell Mickey Mantle how to hit? If you’ve done your job on points 1 & 2 this is a no-brainer. You’ve hired Orson Welles. Put him in the little room, close the door, and turn on the microphone. And, if you offer any direction at all, you certainly don’t start telling Orson Welles how to inflect. This is where they truly showed the “depths of their ignorance.”
4. And, last but not least, remember it’s advertising – not Shakespeare. These guys looked upon their words as sacred poetry – which is why Mr. Welles so heartlessly reminds them that they’re talking about frozen food.

Follow that strategy and you might just get Orson to stay in the studio for the entire session. Was Orson Welles a bit temperamental and perhaps difficult to work with? Undoubtedly – but they knew that going in. This is great listening. Take four minutes and hear for yourself a creative director’s worst nightmare.