Sticky Notes - I'm looking for John Martin.

*ATTENTION*

Charles Bukowski didn't become Charles Bukowski because of Charles Bukowski but because of an office supplies salesman by the name of John Martin, who thought the 51-year-old indie poet was the best thing since sliced bread. The story of how their partnership is riveting (I wrote about it here).

I'm telling you this not because I think I'm the next Charles Bukowski but because I think I'm a writer and adman that should be more widely read than I am. All that to say, I'm currently looking for my John Martin; a literary agent meets "growth-hacker" meets salesman meets publisher that believes in my work as much as I believe in it.  So, a unicorn essentially. 

If you know of somebody that could be my John Martin, please have them email me at "cole@honeycopy.com" with a story about a time they made a product, person or book go viral. 

I will get quite a few emails in response to this note and I won't be able to respond to all of them. So, if you're going to come, come strong. 

GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF THE GUTTER.

I've never been busier with advertising.

The irony is that I tried to walk away from the game a month ago. But, goddamnit, it just keeps pulling me back in. It's as addictive as cocaine, as lucrative as a golden goose on a high-fiber diet and more fun than a fast pass in Disneyland. 

Maybe I'll finally quit dancing with the devil next year but right now the two of us are in an all-out tango and here's what we're working on:

1. a small batch bourbon label
2. cyber security software
3. boysenberry flavored lubricant. 

Don't worry, you'll be seeing all of this work shortly, once I've gotten all the ink in the right places but until then, I figured I'd take some inspiration from the last industry on the above list and write to you about sex. 

Generally speaking, fornication falls into one of two buckets:

1. love-making
2. fucking

Love-making is sacred and beautiful and I'd go so far as to say "holy". It's an act that can only be experienced with someone you love and deeply.

So, as I compare sex to advertising for the next couple dozen lines, please understand that love-making is excluded from this comparison; when I use the word "sex" I'm using it strictly in reference to the act itself.

I'd call it "fucking" but I've matured considerably over the past few years and, these days, I only allow myself three "f-bombs" per email. We're at two so far. So, if you're squeamish, stay calm, your misery is nearly over. 

People have sex for all sorts of reasons. Back when I was a single man, this is where I would list off all the reasons I've had sex. But, since I'm happily taken, I will instead write out these reasons collectively with the use of the word "we".

We have sex for all sorts of reasons. We have sex because it feels good, obviously. We have sex because we feel good. We have sex because we feel bad and want to feel good. We have sex because we need validation. We have sex because someone else needs validation. We have sex because we are bored. We have sex because we are heartbroken. We have sex because someone else is heartbroken. We have sex because we're in need of distraction. We have sex because someone else is in need of distraction. We have sex because we feel defeated, depressed and down and out. We have sex because we feel blocked, uninspired and interested. 

We have sex for so many different reasons; for almost as many reasons as we buy things. Hold on now. Don't you get offended? Remember, we're not talking about "love-making" here, we're talking about the act of sex when love and emotion and deep connection aren't floating about the room like angels waiting to be conceived. 

A lot of folks try to complicate this advertising thing. They create buyer personas and have branding circle jerks and riff a whole lot about customer journeys as if their clientele is Frodo venturing to Mount Doom.

But, the reality is that we buy things because it feels good, obviously. We buy things because we feel good. We buy things because we feel bad and want to feel good. We buy things because we need validation. We buy things because someone else needs validation. We buy things because we are bored. We buy things because we are heartbroken. We buy things because someone else is heartbroken. We buy things because we're in need of distraction. We buy things because someone else is in need of distraction. We buy things because we feel defeated, depressed and down and out. We buy things because we feel blocked, uninspired and interested. 

In this way, advertising kind of becomes like Tinder or Bumble or Hinge or whatever the kids are using these days to get laid. The adman or adwoman or adperson is simply the medium between the customer and the feelings they're wanting to feel or the feelings they aren't wanting to feel. 

I know. I know. I know.

I'm so full of shit that you can smell the depths of my ears through this computer screen.

But, somehow I got you to read a 500-word argument that sex is like advertising and advertising is like sex. Imagine what I could do if you gave me a fat wad of cash, set your product in front of me and told me to describe it. I'd sell a whole mess of it with words; words and words and words. 

I'll sell anything.

Except for guns. 

Fuck guns. 

That's three. 

Cheers, 

Cole

P.S. I don't talk this dirty in all my advertising. 

How's that saying go? Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day, teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime? Well, I can't fish worth shit but I can write. So, this relationship between the two of us can go one of two ways:

1. You can pay me a lot of money to write for you
2. You can pay me a little money to teach you how to write

How to write words that sell like a Florida Snow Cone Vendor on the hottest day of the year is a short, bite-sized copywriting course with an excruciatingly long title that will teach you everything I know.

It's been purchased by thousands of marketers, entrepreneurs, designers, copywriters and snow cone vendors and has been used to write everything from thumb-stopping headlines to sticky landing pages to hilarious product descriptions and so on. 

If writing and copywriting aren't really your thing, you can buy me a drink or pick up one of these goodies down below, too...

* A guide about building a freelance business

* A guide about getting what you want with cold email

* A class about becoming a writer

* A book of prose about life

* A book of poetry about love

* A book of short stories about death

* A memento about facing your fears

* A newsletter about writing and life

Or, again, just buy me a damn drink... 

I tend to be a pretty outspoken critic on all things advertising so it’s only natural that I flip the script here and hand the power back to the client: the brands paying us creatives to play Picasso.

When you’re running an advertising agency –– or any service company for that matter –– you get to pick two out of three nice-to-haves when working with a client:

1. A client you love
2. A project you love
3. A budget you love

You can have a client you love and a project you love but...

Between the pandemic, the stock market crash, the lay-offs and the recession, the past few years haven't felt all that unlike that iconic fire drill scene in The Office where Dwight Schrute –– the self-imposed "fire marshall" –– barricades the doors, heats the door handles with a miniature blowtorch, sets fire to a wastebin and chucks firecrackers around the lobby as his colleagues scramble for an exit in total hysteria.

Michael Scott, the quirky branch manager who is supposed to be the leader during this trying time, offers the following words of encouragement to his frantic staff as he is very visibly freaking the fuck out...

"Oh my God. Okay, it's happening! Everybody stay calm! Stay fucking calm! Everybody fucking calm down!"

While for the most part, I'd like to think that I've remained somewhat calm during these trying times, I've had my moments. I'm sure you have, too.

For the future moments that I will inevitably face, I've found some words of encouragement.

Walking through London a few weeks back, I passed by a dry cleaner that had a small, rectangular sign hanging into the window...