As I sit in my living room, drinking a Sam Adams and irritating my wife by typing rather than carrying on a conversation with her, I ponder the deep things of existence.
No, instead I’m crafting (congealing? extruding?) an article on writing for radio.
Some of you may know about my Real Job™. I work as a producer, editor and writer of radio programs, spots, and various nuggets of disposable advertising. The sort of thing that DOESN’T get you movie rights, “alone time” with teenage girls in cat outfits (like The Aardvark’s job), or interviews with magazines. Even worse, I generally work in the non-profit realm, encouraging people to send Bibles overseas, donate to bloated organizations or buy books of dubious theological pedigree.
Some of what I do is worthwhile. Some isn’t. And some is probably going to make sure my eternal heavenly reward consists of nothing better than a condo on the edge of outer darkness. But it pays the bills. And writing, say, a thirty-second spot promoting a women’s event in Orlando may not be particularly stimulating – but (provided you believe in objective morality) it is certainly better than tasering children or eating live kittens.
When I was first hired in radio, it was as a promo writer for a national Christian radio program that shall remain unnamed. I was in college (studying art) and working at a thrift store. But I was also the homeschooled firstborn son of an author, a hard-core reader, and a neurotic speller. I met the producer of the program at a church event and he asked in passing if I knew any students of letters that might be interested in a part-time writing gig. I told him, “No, but I work on the school paper and I seem to write better than the Journalism majors there.” It was true. At this point, at the tender age of 18, I was the editor for the Arts and Entertainment section of the paper – which, incidentally, won an award while I was there (mostly because we had an excellent and hard-working editor-in-chief who went on to score a good job with the Miami Herald.)
I was hired after he reviewed my clippings. However, I quickly realized that I was entirely too wordy for radio. My boss had actually been trained in communication and had spent years working at various radio stations. He relentlessly picked apart my beautiful arabesques and pushed me to self-edit. During this period my favorite writer was Thomas Hardy. Yet Hardy is a very poor model for radio. Too wordy.
I learned the power of punchy. Shotgun language.
I fought against it all the way – yet now I can hardly write in complete sentences.
That’s the power of radio!
Look – if you were writing for print and had some space, you might promote a film thus:
“This Fall, soar into the magical world of Pink Zeppelin. Pink Zeppelin is the uplifting tale of a very large woman with a helium addiction – and the man who loves her. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry and you’ll laugh again as you follow the heartwarming story of how an eating disorder and large quantities of gas bring a couple to new heights of romance. Bring a date, a bag of ding-dongs, a balloon and your hanky to ‘Pink Zeppelin!’”
Not too wordy, right? But for radio – it’s TOO MUCH!
Forget all those sentences and grammar and stuff. Do it like this:
“A man in love. A woman of substance. A romance in the sky. “Pink Zeppelin” - coming this fall.”
Keep ‘em guessing about the details. And if you really want to nail it home, do a call to action.
“A man in love. A woman of substance. A romance in the sky. “Pink Zeppelin” - coming this fall. Call now – 1-800-floating-lard. That’s 1-800, F-L-O-A-T-I-N-G-L-A-R-D. www.Floatinglard.com”
See? Calls to action are always great. And if you want to make it special, do it a lot. In a thirty second spot you can put the darn phone number in 3 or 4 times, easily.
Try this:
“A man in love – 1-800-floatinglard. A woman of substance – 1-800-floatinglard. A romance in the sky. Again, that’s 1-800-F-L-O-A-T-I-N-G-L-A-R-D. “Pink Zeppelin” - coming this fall.” Visit us on the web at: www.floatinglard.com, that’s www.floatinglard.com.
Wow! It’s the Mona Lisa of ads! Seriously, though – the reason people repeat things so often in radio ads is to drive them home like a nail in your brain. According to Roy Williams (also known as the Wizard of Ads – sign up for his Monday Morning Memo and prepare to be intrigued), there are two ways to make someone remember something.
- Endless repetition
- Making it of utmost importance to them
The first we all recognize from advertising. The second is harder.
The 9/11 challenge we had recently is evidence of the second point. Everything stopped for most of us when we saw those towers fall. We remember every detail of that day – BECAUSE it impacted us to the core of our being.
Trust me, advertisers would probably blow up buildings to get you to buy their products. However, legalities make that difficult, leaving them with option #1 – endless repetition.
To re-cap, make things as tight as possible and don’t be afraid to repeat important details. My writing style has been greatly influenced by the thousands of scripts I’ve had to write under extreme time constraints, i.e., presenting a product in 30 seconds or less.
There are a few more things I’d like to say – but I’ll let them wait for a future column.
So call now! 1-800-VIDAD – that’s 1-800-V-I-D-A-D. Or on the web at: www.vidadfinallywroteacolumnfortheFC.com.
Vidad is the evil twin of this guy who leads a really nice, moderately normal life. He doesn’t own a TV, likes to paint, plays a few instruments, has four children and a loving (and hot) wife. He has written zillions of scripts, played a recurring character in a nationally syndicated broadcast, and always has a bottle of Squid Brand fish sauce in his kitchen. His favorite authors, after God (who you pretty much have to read out of obligation), are F. Scott Fitzgerald, Thomas Hardy, Ray Bradbury, Sinclair Lewis, Flannery O’Connor, Ayn Rand, Oscar Wilde and Douglas Adams. Finally, thanks to Bruce Bethke’s encouragement, Vidad is getting darn close to finishing his debut novel “Cloning Ray.”