Please, please stop saying "Anybody can be a creative."

There is a clandestine effort – conscious or deliberate, I cannot say – to diminish the value of creative. The thinking that fuels this conspiracy is that being creative is more a hobby than a career path. As a writer, I'm often asked to "come up with something fun" for a neighborhood event, a relative's wedding, or a school project, as if nothing were more fulfilling than to add more work to my life.

"Anybody can be a creative" is a phrase I hear bandied about ad agencies, usually by upper-management types who are trying to foster this wild idea that creativity lives in the ether, waiting for anyone to pluck its fruit. I believe the statement is said as an attempt to be inspirational. It's not. It's insulting.

For example, were I to approach my mechanic and say, "Hey, anybody can fix a car," he'd likely take umbrage. My mechanic, born with a clever knack for understanding complex machinery and trained to be among the best in his field, deserves better than my droll assessment that his skills are pedestrian at best. As creatives, we deserve the same courtesy.

After all, not only are we born with  more weight on the left sides of our brains, we have honed and labored  our craft since our childhoods. To say, "Anyone can be a creative" is no less ridiculous than saying anyone can be a brain surgeon or an NBA power forward. 

I could never be an accountant. I could never be a world champion hotdog eater or a capable plumber or a cutthroat divorce lawyer. I haven't the talent for any of those pursuits, but I appreciate those who do. I should hope they have the same respect for me. 

Jeremy Harper is Chief Instigator of Storm the Castle Creative and is not available to create your birth announcement. 

The one good practice marketing execs must adopt in 2018.

Engaging the theater of our minds, let us pretend you have $100,000 to spend on producing a TV spot. We know the reality falls somewhere between $5,000 and $2,000,000, but bear with me. When you presented your budget to your agency, the account executive probably said something dashingly low-key, like, "We can work with that," as if they had a choice. From there begins the beautiful machinations of building a TV commercial. What fun!

What you don't see on Mad Men is the barbaric process of elimination that occurs in pre-production – an exercise that whittles the copywriter and art director's epic vision into a grotesque Frankenstein that is an affordable marketing message. Most of these cuts are purely pragmatic. ("Why don't you just set this spot on the moon?" a frustrated production manager once screamed at me).

Every cut is felt, however. Shooting will be reduced from three days to one. The script will call for a majestic scene atop a Hawaiian volcano, but will ultimately be shot in the creative director's back yard. The celebrity voice over you pitched in the creative presentation will become a local talent who can manage a passable British accent. 

These are all age-old sacrifices. However, smart branding managers (like yourself) should resolve to stinking to an unbreakable production absolute in 2018: never skimp on the on-camera talent.

It is said that great photography is all about proper lighting (which is something you should never mention to a photographer). Likewise, a great TV spot is all in the casting (though you should spare the writer that truth). 

Consider a recent campaign for DirectTV, which pokes fun at backwards consumers who prefer cable TV over Dish. Conceptually, it's a mediocre idea with a big media budget. But what makes the campaign work (and work well, apparently) is the professional casting. 

Brands with heroically small budgets are tempted to cut costs by casting their articulate employees, cute relatives or (gasp) themselves in their TV spots. This may save you a fee, but it will cost you magic. Behold DirectTV's perfect casting! 

Whether plucked from the local stage theater or selected from a well-connected casting agency, the actors employed by DirectTV are the best part of what could have been a boringly juvenile idea. You can bet these thespians came at a significant cost to the brand. However, what price might have the brand paid had the campaign failed to penetrate consumers' minds and bounced ingloriously into the ether?

In 2018, resolve to improve your branding through acting. The initial costs are high, but the end result is rewarding. 

Jeremy Harper is Chief Instigator of Storm the Castle Creative and is, according to his wife, a very poor actor. 

Ending the War on "Happy Holidays"

I have a friend and colleague who hates this time of year, at least in portion. It has nothing to do with seasonal depression or Christmas commercialization or the bone-chilling cold. His Yuletide disdain stems from a benign expression and has sapped him of his good cheer. 

"I hate having to say 'Happy Holidays,'" he grouses, glaring at a growing pile of Holiday card job and ad requests on his desk. 

My friend yearns for the quaint days when "Merry Christmas" covered it all, when no one was compelled to appeal to the sensitivities of multiple beliefs. To him, including everyone means sacrificing his own culture – one that was universally accepted before society began to overthink itself into a political correct abyss. 

But the world is much, much smaller now. We live in an age where marketers know you better than you know yourself. Today, everyone is our neighbor, whether they live in Paris, Arkansas or Paris, France. The world is our market place, but individuals are the target audience. A seasons greeting is as likely to be "Happy Diwali" as it is "Merry Christmas." 

As an agent of advertising, I've not only accepted "Happy Holidays," I've embraced it. It's the tidy "glad tidings" that fits neatly into conversation and a corporate greeting cards. It offends no one except those who long for incandescent Christmas bulbs and aluminum Christmas trees. Faithfully translated, "Happy Holidays" literally means "Merry Christmas," "Happy Hanukkah," "Happy Festivus" or any of a dozen greetings you may wish to extend this frigid winter. 

Learn to love Happy Holidays, y'all. You'll find the season merrier.