Copywriters these days are a home-made breed. Once, copywriters were time-served journalists looking for something more creative. Now, any old Tom can put up a website choc-full of copywriting keywords and claim to be a freelance copywriter.
But, where these home-made wannabe copywriters fall down is on the basics. OK, so they’ve got a handle on your branding and they’re seeing a medic cos they’ve got creativity bubbling out of every pore. But, guys - c’mon. This is the English language. A thing of beauty. And also a thing of precision. So let’s get it right.
I got it right as an in-house journalist. Then I became in-house copywriter at Marconi. They didn’t teach me how to be a copywriter - I taught myself, by studying the work of copywriters I admired. When they took Marconi out to the woodshed, I landed a job as a medical editor. I know. Don’t ask. I don’t know either.
Thinking that a pinpoint knowledge of the cogs and wheels of the English language would be a must in this role, I took to reading Bill Bryson’s Troublesome Words. For the most part, I knew it. But some of the really deep-down, dirty stuff, I didn’t. I won’t go into that here, in a family publication. But I would say that it’s a cracking read and first item in the kitbag for any aspiring writer.
But, where were we? Ah, would-be copywriters… and basic grammar. That thing that the Government removed from the national curriculum in about 1990. Let’s look inside the box marked Common Howlers and see if you spot yourself in there.
The wannabe copywriter’s fave. Don’t you just love those sales letters that begin: ‘As one of our most-valued customers, we’d like to…’
The point here is that, when you construct a sentence in such a way, the subject should come after the comma. You introduce your subject matter with, ‘As one of our most-valued customers…’, then – BANG – hit ‘em with the subject. Please.
Oh , Mama. ‘U2 literally blew the roof off the stadium’; ‘Dave from Accounts was literally on fire as he ran across the car park at 4.59’; ‘She was literally born with a silver spoon in her mouth’; ‘I’m literally sh##ting myself’ (thanks, Dani Behr).
Were copywriters ever faced with a more misused expression? The word means actually. This means that a correct interpretation of the word might be on a sunny day when rain is expected and you decide to mow your lawn: ‘I’m going to make hay while the sun shines - literally’.
Not Ec cetera. Comes from the Latin meaning ‘and the rest’.
I quote Mr Bryson: ‘The crowd was estimated at about 20,000’. Estimation contains the idea of about - so don’t repeat yourself. ‘Past history’ is not pretty either.
Things are not ‘comprised of’ - they are composed of or they comprise.
National newspapers, please take note. It’s become fashionable to do away with commas. One of the first casualties has been on introductory clauses - those few words that neatly introduce your sentence. But, when removing commas forces readers to reread your copy, it’s time for a rethink.
‘For Jane Smith the awakening was as rude as they come…’
‘Until then it had been a normal day…’
Anybody want to guess where the comma might go in those sentences?
Another one The Times and The Guardian could do with looking at more closely. You use ‘which’ with commas. ‘Which’ is for incidental information that you add that's not necessarily needed to make the sentence make sense.
‘The tree, which was in Grandad's orchard, had stood for many years.’
‘The tree that was in Grandad's orchard was an oak.’
In the first one, you can remove the information between the commas and the sentence still makes sense - you're just using 'which' to give 'bonus' information. In the second, the information that goes with 'that' is essential to the meaning of the sentence.
That’ll do for now. I’ll be back with more crimes against the mother tongue more quickly than you can say, ‘That advice has literally pulled me out of the fire’.
t: Nigel,
+44 (0)1772 435827
m: 07527 954394
e: nigel@mightier-than.com