Hello David,
Thank you so much for agreeing to be a part of The Writing Desk Blog.
Now, imagine I’m about to introduce you to an auditorium, filled with the smiling faces of folks fuelled by caffeine and an eagerness to learn. What would I say?
“Hello everyone, I’d like to introduce…
David McGuire. He’s a consultant, copywriter, and trainer who helps B2B marketers make better, more interesting content.”
Here’s the part where we’d sit down and try and look comfortable next to the microphones.
Are you sitting comfortably?
Then let’s begin…
Can you name the business book that’s always on your desk? (I’m talking about the one that’s covered in pencil marks, coffee stains and has turned down corners…)
Honestly? Big admission, but… life’s too short for business books. I spend so much of my real-life time working, why would I spend my imagination time working too, when I could be reading children’s books about tiny dragons and heroic decisions and feral girls with homicidal geese?
When I do read a business book, it needs to have a big, smart idea and ideally not overstay its welcome. (Thinking, Fast and Slow had a huge impact on my writing, but could’ve been a blog.) The most recent book to tick those boxes for me was Truth is Better Marketing by the awesome Harendra Kapur. It said a lot of overdue things about B2B, made me laugh and cry, and got it all done in 90-ish pages. Perfect.
What’s your all-time favourite advertising campaign?
I can’t find it anywhere now, but… in the mid-late 90s, Orange made the most beautiful ad for getting horoscopes by text message (I know, I know; hear me out…).
Gloriously unhurried and classy, shot in cinematic black and white. We see a lioness, and realise it’s padding into a shopping centre. And then some twins. And then a ram… and eventually we twig they’re a bunch of star signs, all milling about among the shoppers. And the lioness goes into a clothing store, where there’s a woman buying a pair of plain, comfortable knickers. Her phone beeps, she reads the text, and she makes eye contact with the lion – then reaches for a pair of fancy knickers instead. Horoscopes to your mobile, only on Orange.
It sounds horribly sexist now I see it written down. But I do adore an ad that lands one, simple message in a surprising, memorable, and emotional way. Orange’s Night Night was another one from a similar time. And I can barely even talk about the Volkswagen Polo Father/Daughter ad without tearing up. I love it when commercial communication gets to be art.
“Everyone has a book in them…” Or so the saying goes. What do you think/know/believe is the secret to good writing?
Ultimately, it’s really caring about your audience – what they know, what they care about, how they talk – and wanting to delight and surprise them. (For a lot of the B2B markets I work in, just acknowledging the reader exists would be a good start.)
Oh jeez; I’ve just seen how many questions there are. I’d better speed this up, hadn’t I?
If you were just starting out, what advice would you give yourself? Which book or books would you read first?
Alright, young David (and yes, it is David; this “Dave” nonsense makes people underestimate you), listen up…
Just because you did well at school, doesn’t mean you’re neurotypical. There’s a reason why you’re forgetful, messy, and perpetually late – and it’s not because you’re a bad, feckless person. Be kinder to yourself.
And, on that note, don’t stop writing stories and poems just because you don’t write like your peers. Yes, I know Fly By Night is a work of genius and no, you can’t write like Frances Hardinge. You’re not supposed to – you’re supposed to write like you. When you finally figure this out, you’ll regret the years in between.
(Also, the careers advice officer is an arse. That job you asked about does exist; it’s called “copywriter”, and you’d rock at it.)
Now, go and read To Kill a Mockingbird. Otherwise you won’t until you’re in your forties and you’ll wish you’d read it sooner.
Silence? Radio? Or music while you work?
Not radio. Speech and song lyrics distract me.
Most often it’s pink noise (I’ve curated far too many mixes on Noisli.com), or noise-cancelled earphone goodness in 25-minute chunks. Occasionally, when I’m struggling to care about work, it’s movie scores. I’ve yet to meet the B2B blog post that Hans Zimmer can’t transform into a life-and-death struggle.
What are your top three novels of all time – and why?
Like all good top-three lists, they’re liable to change at any time. But right now, I’d say…
Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison. Because it surprised me, gripped me, and made me begin to realise how little I knew about… well, anything, really.
Mary Barton by Elizabeth Gaskell. Because I’m soppy. And because I think it’s a beautifully accessible, emotional exploration of the realities of class war.
Impossible Creatures by Katherine Rundell. Because I’d wrongly assumed all the truly great books for 10-year-olds had been written already, and that it was impossible to still tell epic, ambitious, hopeful stories in such a cynical age. I loved it from the first sentence.
What’s the best thing you’ve ever written? Why did it rock your world?
There was this one ad the client’s client rejected… but I’d have to tell you about that over a drink sometime.
More recently, I wrote a poem called The Two of Wands. I hadn’t written poetry for thirty years, but my eldest daughter went to university, and I was in a creative writing group, and BAM; out it came. I like it because it’s honest – and every time I read it, people cry. Writing is connection, and I seem to have expressed a little bit of truth about what it’s like to be her dad, in a way people can understand.
What’s the last thing you bought? And yes, that packet of chewing gum counts.
A meal deal from the Spar next to my girlfriend’s house. (Chicken and bacon sandwich, cherry Pepsi Max, and two boiled eggs. Not my finest moment; the doctor says I’ve to keep the cholesterol down.)
Who was your teenage crush?
Alice Chambers. She was popular, and it all went horribly wrong when my parents – entrusted with postage to change the postmark location – delivered my Valentine’s card by hand. I don’t blame them. Much.
Oh, you meant someone you’d heard of? Jennifer Connelly, and later Jennifer Ehle. (Also, briefly, Martika.)
Can you describe the best meal you’ve ever eaten?
Not without sounding like a pretentious arse. I recently had my first ever Michelin-starred meal (at Paul Ainsworth’s No.6 in Padstow), and the food was preposterously good. Like, redefining-everything-I-thought-I-knew-about-butter good. It was like eating a scallop for the first time (see also: beef, mussels, scones).
I gather there are some people who save up all their eating-out money for the whole year, just to have one truly great meal instead. And while that’s not for me, this meal was good enough that I could understand why you’d do it.
What’s your favourite tipple? Is it wine, beer – a cask-aged malt?
I do love a good whisky. Whiskey too.
A friend and I went to Islay a couple of years ago, and it was perfect. I bought a Laphroaig special edition, aged in Pedro Ximenez casks – which was everything I’d hoped for from that description. He bought the peatiest whisky in the world. I think I won.
(But also: have you ever had a banana and peanut butter milkshake?)
If I were to give you a private jet, David Attenborough as a tour guide and a month off work – all expenses paid – where would you go and what or who would you write about – and why?
If you’ve got Attenborough, then it’s got to be rainforest. Indonesia, most likely – tigers and orangutans. Or Galapagos, because David’s got access and when else will you get the chance?
I’d look for something that gives me hope, and write about that.
What’s in your pockets?
Receipts. Remains of a tissue. Spare earbud tips. Year-old voucher for 25% off at WH Smith (remember WH Smith? That new TG Jones logo took all of ten seconds, didn’t it?). Keys. Six quid. A Sharpie.
Pen and ink, pencil and paper or keyboard and screen? What’s your writing style?
Depends what I’m writing. Ideas on pencil and paper. Notes in my Rocketbook. Copy on a screen (Word for work; Scrivener for play). I did get a whole box of Blackwings for my birthday once; it was one of my favourite presents ever.
Do you read any blogs or magazines about writing? (And I mean read, not just subscribe to and delete/leave on your desk and recycle?)
Not regularly – though I do read one-off articles when they’re recommended. And I listen to podcasts: sometimes on writing craft, like Writing Excuses; more often short fiction and ongoing stories that fire my own imagination (things like Midst). I find charging myself up with wonder and emotion is better for my work: less thinking, more feeling.
(Also, the more escapism the better.)
Tea – or coffee? What’s your poison?
This is a false dichotomy (in the same way that “Are you a dog person or a cat person?” is) and I reject it utterly. But, since you’re asking, a Long Black is perfect, thanks.
Do you have a favourite cup or mug? Can you describe it?
I have several – usually gifts. One shows my Dungeons & Dragons character class (Warlock); another gives a fake dictionary definition of “Inconceivable” (it doesn’t mean what you think it means).
However, my usual go-to is a VAST Keith Brumer-Jones mug saying “FFS”.
What was your most adored children’s book? And character?
What’s this “was” business? I feel I should refer you to Katherine Rundell’s excellent Why You Should Read Children’s Books, Even Though You Are So Old and Wise – which features prominently in the background of all my Zoom calls, videos, and podcast interviews.
Sadly, though, most of the books I loved back when I was a child have aged horribly. The Faraway Tree. Willard Price’s Adventure series. Roald Dahl.
I did once read The Hobbit in one sitting. In the bath. Will that do?
- Your favourite word?
Burgeoning.
Your most loathed word? (You know, the one that makes you shudder and say “Ew!”?)
Range.
Where can we find you? – Browsing online or lost in the aisles of a bookstore?
Bookstore every time. Book sellers are the best people.
Favourite song lyric of all time? And why?
“Massacres, massacres, massacres, new shoes.”
Minimalist perfection from Kae Tempest’s glorious Europe is Lost– a furious, witty encapsulation of the grief, despair, and rage inherent in living in this godawful century.
Name the artist who’s guaranteed to get you up on the dance floor.
The Jackson 5. Or Deee-Lite. Or bis.
Do you have any strange writing rituals you’d like to share with us?
More than I already have, you mean?
I find the London Writer’s Salon’s daily Writers’ Hour sessions extremely helpful – any kind of “shut up and write” arrangement, in fact. My scattered neurotype finds it much easier to settle into the work when I know others around me are doing the same.
What are you working on today? What’s in the pipeline?
Today, I’ve been editing social media copy about forklift trucks. I love the reviewing part of my coaching work – giving less-experienced writers feedback in a way that helps them grow, while also moving towards signed-off work.
And forklifts. Don’t get me started on the wonder of a forklift. I love B2B so much.
Can you describe the last photograph you took?
Tempting as it is to cheat and say something cool… the last one is actually a selfie with my parents and youngest daughter, where we’re all holding up a number of fingers totalling our team’s score in this week’s Guardian Quiz. (It’s a weekly ritual – we have a group chat with various family and friends.) 10 this week; hitting double figures is always pleasing.
What piece of advice really changed you as a writer?
“Write to one person”, probably.
And also… not advice exactly, but at university I was struck by how my friend (a ridiculously smart historian) would explain complicated historical events by saying things like “This was a good thing”. The cleverest person I’d ever met showed his expertise by using short, not long, words. That made a tiny explosion in my brain.
What was the last thing you wrote that had nothing to do with your job?
A backstory for a Dungeons & Dragons adventure I’m running for my girlfriend, her son, and my daughter, later this week. (I’m a newbie Dungeon Master, and frankly it’s hard to think about anything else lately.)
What’s your favourite quote about the process of writing?
“Don’t loaf and invite inspiration; light out after it with a club, and if you don’t get it you will nonetheless get something that looks remarkably like it.”
– Jack London
Who is your favourite Mad Man – or Woman?
As a young copywriter, I adored David Ogilvy’s books.
Now I know about Ogilvy & Mather’s role in popularising Carbon Footprint to protect the oil industry – arguably the cleverest and most evil piece of agency work in human history. And even though it wasn’t him, it feels like his legacy and it makes me sad.
Can you name your favourite film – and tell us why you love it?
Sigh. You had to say “favourite”, didn’t you? Not “best”. Not “cleverest” or “obscurest” or “most impressive”. OK then.
It’s Return of the Jedi.
Yes, I know it’s far from the best Star Wars film, even. But it’s the first one I saw in the cinema. Barking Odeon, 1983. Seven years old, with my teenage cousin (and hero), Jamie. It had the Rancor beast. The speeder bike chase. AT-STs. The most wondrous experience I’ve ever had in a cinema (and isn’t wonder the POINT of cinema?) And THAT Luke Skywalker. Luke Skywalker in all black, with the green lightsaber and the cool Chanel boots. (You know how Whovians have a “my” doctor, and Bond fans have a “my” 007? That one is MY Luke Skywalker.)
32 years later, I took my daughter – herself barely eight – to see The Force Awakens. And, when Luke’s lightsaber flew into the grasp of Daisy Ridley’s Rey, my little girl, wide eyed, gasped “She’s a JEDI!”. Hattie got her Luke Skywalker, and I had the privilege of watching it happen. Which is my way of saying that anyone who disparages the Star Wars sequels is wrong and I will fight them to the death.
Which book or books is/are by your bed today?
- The Sunny Nihilist, by Wendy Syfret
- Radical Happiness, by Lynne Segal
- Writing the Other: A Practical Approach, by Nisi Shawl and Cynthia Ward
Who was or is your greatest teacher?
I can’t choose just one:
Bil McCallum, who made me believe English might be my main squeeze after all.
Dr Avril Bruten, who made me take it seriously.
John Knowles, who made me a copywriter.
Who is your favourite artist?
Tanya Donelly. (I suspect you meant visual arts, but the music questions were very specific, so I’m cheating. Belly’s album “King” is my favourite work of art, of any genre.)
Where do you like to work best – is it at a desk, in an office or in a coffee shop? And would you send us a picture of where the magic happens?
Oh, this is a whoooole thing.
Since I’ve returned to freelancing, I’ve used different spaces to cue my brain into different kinds of work: storytelling, creativity, detail, knuckling down. Often, you’ll find me in one of Falmouth University’s libraries. Sometimes I’m in a coffee shop. Frequently, it’s a co-working space – there’s one above a local bookshop that’s lovely, but there are many: I know where to go in all the local towns.
Kresen Kernow, Redruth’s Cornish archive centre, is a joy, and I’ve recently joined the Morrab Library – a historic independent library in Penzance. That’s the prettiest one, so I’ll send you a suitably droolsome picture from my usual desk.
🤖 AI, Chat GPT, Gemini, Claude—your thoughts as at today’s date, please? (Because it will all change in the blink of an eye and – yes – the em dash is deliberate.)
(Ah, but were the hyphens?)
I have many thoughts, opinions, and feelings. They’re all conflicting.
First, it’s a cynical and immoral siphoning off of the talent, skill, knowledge, and hard work of millions of writers, artists, designers, and experts. All without compensating them. It further consolidates all the wealth and power into the hands of those who are already wealthiest, most powerful, and least concerned about social good. We’ve only seen the tiniest fraction of the jobs it will destroy, and it will make it all but impossible to earn a living through creativity alone. Oh yeah, and the climate change. And the water.
Second, I’m frustrated. Because everyone acts as if it’s magic when it’s just predictive text. It can’t think. It doesn’t have feelings. It can’t understand anything. And as someone who’s generally made my living through thinking (disguised as writing), I see no thought in the future. Just bland, pointless productivity. Everybody knows this, and nobody cares, and it makes me despondent.
Third, it’s not as bad as the writing snobs think it is. There are really good ways to use it, and it can be really helpful – as long as the human is in charge and the machine is the assistant. (Have you ever used it as a thesaurus? It’s incredible.) I can’t change the fact it’s here and people will use it, but I can at least bang the drum for using it the right way. Which is helpful, because AI training is much easier to sell than copywriting training lately – even if I do feel a little like the science teacher who drew the short straw and now has to teach teenagers about safe sex (because they’re going to do it anyway). Mostly I hear about people using it the wrong way, though. (AKA human in the loop: if a human’s checking the machine’s homework, you’ve made the worst possible use of the human and the technology.)
Fourth, isn’t it tremendously fun?! Getting it to do all sorts of weird stuff that never would’ve happened otherwise. Forcing it to come up with bizarre ideas and make interesting mistakes. Getting your new D&D character drawn in a pre-Raphaelite style, even if their elf ears stick out through their hood and their hands look like they’ve never held a bow before. As long as you don’t trust it with anything important. As long as it doesn’t take work from people. As long as you don’t think too hard about all the carbon and all the people with no drinking water. If you can ignore all that (and too often I can, easily) it’s an absolute riot for anyone with a creative brain.
You know how skateboarders view ugly concrete architecture? I think about it like that.
All of those things. All at once.
And finally, where can this caffeine-fuelled audience find you?
Find David on: LinkedIn
Check out David’s super informative YouTube channel
