When I stepped into the corridors of this seemingly glamorous industry called ‘advertising’, little did I know what I was entering into. I was 29 years old and a mother of a 4 year old. It was my first job in advertising as a copywriter and I was quite kicked with it especially as I thought that this was my big break after having run the corporate rat race for a while.
With stars in my eyes I began my journey. Things did seem good, but were very hectic. People began work late, stayed back late and then again the next morning; it was the same ‘late cycle’. The boss used to step in at 7 pm and call a meeting. All hell would break loose in my head as I had to rush to collect my little one from the crèche and here was the boss – settling down his ample self into the plush chair wanting to discuss things that could wait till the next day. I had to be blunt and tell him that I had to leave at 6.30 come what may. He seemed to understand. Thank God Almighty for that, although I am sure he thought I was a hyper mother and unnecessarily so. So be it.
I progressed steadily and joined a national agency. I did well and moved yet again to another agency doing some good work. This one had a cosmopolitan crowd and looked liberal and chilled out, as typical agencies are supposed to be. People around seemed to dropping the F word at the drop of a hat. Parties ruled the roost and a drink was the coolest thing to sport. I, at my teetotaler best had a field day shooing the drinks away and the guys too. Married or not, mother or not, some guys never learn. Well, one had to handle them.
Professionally, it was a satisfying career. However there were criminal deadlines and I had to do the tightrope walk very often. I stayed up nights and finished my work, got up in the morning catered to my little son and went to work. At the same time, I nursed my hubby who had fallen ill back to good health. I honestly don’t know wherefrom came the strength to manage all this!
Rejection however was something I could not digest easily. When my best ideas got butchered on the creative director’s desk, I was shattered and took it personally. But this is a regular phenomenon for all my brethren of the creative tribe. One had to get over it. I remember one instance when my boss told me in no uncertain terms that ‘Good was the enemy of excellence’; he was clearly trying to say that I was complacent in my good work. Ouch! That hurt! But it was probably true. I decided to pull up my socks and decided to work hard to better the good work I was doing.
It was then that I realized, what looked glamorous on the outside, was tough work inside. There are no free lunches anywhere, not even in advertising. Today, when I see the youngsters I work with, who think advertising is so wow, all about glamour and is a cakewalk, I remember those days and think – someday they will learn. Someday they will know what it takes to be a successful advertising professional – a charged mind, an energetic spirit and the guts to think new ideas even after hundreds of your super ideas are murdered by the client or the boss or his wife.
All you writers, students, youngsters, aspiring ad professionals out there – are you listening?