After a brief flickering of the light from the large screen at the front of the room, Andy Flemming fought through a dodgy cable and delivered the knockout blow, in one slide:
“Through caverns measureless to man.”
With five short words from Coleridge, it was almost as if we were sat by candlelight, the confines of the classroom fallen away. Our barely acquainted cohort bonding silently, telepathically—we are all here, I think, because we are suckers for a good story. And, according to Andy, a phrase as powerful as this one can plunge you into the picture in a way the cinematic frame never could. With this, the scene was set for Copy School ‘24.
This love for wordcraft pervaded the ensuing five days, each guest speaker offering a nuanced glimpse into the many ingredients that go into cooking up great copy.
Georgie Waters (M&C Saatchi) refreshed us on the writer’s rulebook, a welcome reminder that if you ever thought linguistic playfulness to be a lofty pursuit—it is founded firmly on laws of language carefully carved out over centuries. Know the rules, then break them, young copy kids. Oh, and try not to ever split infinitives. Sorry, Georgie.
The Glue Society’s Jonathan Kneebone turned our classroom into the writers’ room for a sitcom featuring a kangaroo and a pineapple. Celia Mortlock (Johannes Leonardo) turned our attention abroad, and the allure of big American ad budgets. Big ‘What if…’ thinking speaks every language and can take your career anywhere, just don’t forget to ‘underthink’ it sometimes, too.
The Monkeys’ Ewan Harvey and Aïcha Wijland walked us through their process of writing everything down, then ‘resting the roast’, and how our clever little brains tinker away for us while our laptop lids are shut. While our ears are open, Ralph Van Dijk (Eardrum) articulated how an auditory ad must be composed as a welcome guest in the middle of one’s favourite podcast—you are in their world; don’t catapult them into yours.
Jenny Mak and Heather Sheen (DDB and Sheen Strategy, respectively) convinced us as creatives, the strategy department is your best friend—and your best insights can often be teased out of a punter for the price of a beer, down the pub.
These learnings, and so many more, are the catalyst for my presumably insufferable ravings back at the Cocogun offices each day after class. If this article reads like I seriously drank the Kool-Aid, allow me to put your suspicions to rest: I sculled it. I am truly inspired.
Yet, what was even more compelling than the creative inspiration injected into the Copy School class of ‘24 was the camaraderie, and the collaborative energy of the class itself.
As a treatment writer turned copywriter, it would be fair to say much of my professional creativity has been guided by competition. And whilst competition is not the death of creativity—the thinly-veiled, insecure ego that can sit behind creative competition certainly is. At John Bevins’ Copy School, ego was simply denied entry by the doorman at the NSW State Library.
Together, we wrote dialogue, read screenplays, spotlighted sloppywriting wherever we spied it, and weren’t afraid to be a little vulnerable when fronting the class to read some of our own poetry, manifestos, a Seinfeld spec script, and even a smidge of stand-up. The fears of foul-mouthed feedback from anonymous comments were someplace else.
Dee Madigan (Campaign Edge) told us good creative comes from when we are at our most empathetic, and I’d like to think this extends to each other. With most of the class still hoping to get their foot in the door, I saw enough to suggest that any agency looking to bolster their creative ranks would be lucky to have them (and I’m sure their LinkedIn profiles are in good form after our closing chat with Esther Clerehan). I look forward to our Copy School coffee catch-ups, coined affectionately as a ‘Cuppa-John’.
And so, aside from being a highly respected national treasure, John Bevins became our deeply humble mentor—who so generously taught us not only to become better writers, but also left us wide-eyed with a more unexpected takeaway to hold close to heart: When creativity is harnessed solely to ‘win’ at something, we all lose. When we inspire and support one another, share notes, and share praise, all of us win.