The Power of the Pea

It’s been a disappointing week for things happening. The agent pondering over my book, and whether I’m worthy of her representation, is still cogitating. And, upon checking for responses to catapult Slash into the critical role of ‘Happy Czar,’ thereby saving the world, I find I’ve been inundated with silence. This is a poor return for the effort expended, and an accurate reflection of my current economic position. But I’m not downhearted, because I think I have a solution. Marketing.

Marketing is the means by which organisations persuade us to spend money. And they can be very clever at it. Who, for example, ever needed a fondue set? Or indeed remained interested in it after the third piece of marshmallow fell off the fork into molten cheese?

This is where marketing is smart. It doesn’t tell us we need something: it leads us to making that conclusion for ourselves. No one ever purchased a fondue set, what they bought was a novel dinner party with friends, or a memory of a great skiing holiday.

Marketing is commercial sleight of hand. It shows you something that isn’t actually there.

Of course, marketing isn’t for everyone. Undertakers never advertise: they don’t need to. They just have to wait. But they are exceptions to the rule. Even the Government understands the power of marketing. In fact they are one of the biggest users of it in the UK. Who knew how evil alcohol units were until the Government told us that 19 units a week was OK, but 20 was the quickest way to meet the undertaker who never advertised?

Yep, marketing is where I’m going wrong, because, despite helping companies with theirs, I don’t have a plan of my own. Until now. And I have to thank the humble pea for its formulation.

Now, I’m not a lover of your pea. I don’t like the smell, the colour, the shape, or the taste. Even the name has revolting connotations. Then, a frozen food advertiser suggested I text the word ‘pea’ to 63330. Who could resist such a thing? I couldn’t, so I did. I got a text back immediately, informing me I could I visit a website, where I would learn all manner of pea related things, like how to cook them. Fascinating. I like this approach a lot.

So, all I need now is a text account that I’m happy to make public, a website, and an enigmatic word: like pea. Yep, I need one word that encapsulates my campaign. Something that defines what I do.

But this is not as easy as it sounds when you write for a living. Its an ambiguous career and not as neatly packaged as a pea.

For example, this morning I sent out five proposals to magazine and paper editors. The subjects ranged from travel, to consumer finance, with a bit of nostalgic hairdressing sandwiched in the middle. This afternoon I’m preparing proposals to design and edit newsletters for a couple of potential new clients. This evening I’m writing some stuff for a website (very funny, coming to your screens soon…).

The common denominator is words but the output is markedly different. So my enigmatic word needs to encapsulate this. If I were a vegetable what would I be?

If you have an idea text ‘confused’ to…