An A to Z of my creative weaknesses

A – Addicted

I’m a word-addict relying on impracticalities like creativity and imagination to argue for or against any POV with equal conviction. Neither marijuana, alcohol, nor sex (and I was a big fan of all three) makes me feel as enthusiastically devoted.

B -Big-headed (figuratively, not literally)

Trying to outgrow this one, but in the business of purposefully winning attention and doing something meaningful with that attention, I’ve found palpable doses of ego and arrogance nurturing to judgment and taste.

C – Curious to a fault

Knowing what needs to be said, what should be left unsaid, and what may still be said without actually having to say it is the art of my craft. So, forgive my manners and try not to get offended by the 7th and final question on my intro calls.

D – Distant

I can’t help but make assumptions about people, things, and the depth of a client’s pocket. And I’m often wrong, especially about clients’ pockets. To curb this assumptive attitude—at least until I have the facts figured out—I keep my opinions 6.5 inches away from the copy (not 7, given my 3/10 track record of guessing right, and the 0.5 that belongs to chance).

E – Envious

Each time I read a damn good copy, I smile in envy (and with pride) at how brilliantly annoying a fellow writer can be. Then I wipe the drool off my face, throw envy into the bin, and take pride in the nuggets the copy affords my swipe file.

F – Fickle

I’ve only ever dated two ladies, and the second, I’d wed as soon as I make a client with deep pockets obsessed enough to say I’m underpricing. So in my personal affairs, I’m all for loyalty. But in the confines of this career path, where the relevance of a solution is rarely enough to make anyone care—and as such, every word in my copy must be chosen to do a job no other word can—I’m all for fleeting ideas.

G – Gen-AI for first draft? (proud hater)

The agentic future muttering under our every breath might, 9 out of a possible 10, will outperform and thought-shame all the haters pelting tomatoes at its output. But for a shot at that grand bubble of creativity, and my dislike for copy with glitter on the outside, but nothing within, I’m all in on that 1% bet—in hope of that brave new world—where writers who look to their muse to string words age like fine wine.

H – Humor (or the lack thereof)

I know (no need to rub it in my face) humor scores points with creative directors—& intimate opportunities with the ladies—but I’m not an effortlessly funny person and have to plan my jokes… and you know what you don’t know about planned puns? They sound like plans.

I – Imaginary

The business of what I do (creating work that will win the argument for your software) is directly at odds with the mechanics of imagination. Because arguments are never settled with concepts or ideas intangible to the senses. But (and this ‘but’ makes all the difference) if, within the premise of an ironclad argument, I’m to open a loop so strange and implausible, so curious, the reader feels she must keep reading to close it—the sheer expanse of my imagination becomes my prized contribution to the tribe.

J – Judgmental

I don’t know how you perceive ideas, but I know them to be nimble, fickle creatures, condescending of all that came before them, and eager to make a fetish of the concepts they put forward. To avoid this power-play and test the soundness of each idea, I run mental bench trials and have grand juries judge every one of those f**kers.

K – Kilishi

No need to look up the word, it’s not a creative weakness from a writerly POV … for quibbles (and I know the word doesn’t fit; I just like the sound of it), Kilishi it’s a thinly sliced beef with a peppery aftertaste a creature of habit like myself chew on when diffrentaiting between the words I like and the words the public expects of me.

L – Lying (disgusts my soul)

Which of these is a lie? I live-critique my efforts and find fault with everything I put into a page… I’ve written anxious copy that read as if every word was grounded through a synonym machine… I’ve had a copy drive $350k in sales within two months.

Spoiler alert: NONE! I can’t stand a lie, even for quibs.

M – Mad (about perfection, not you)

Depending on my muse to know if a word sounds nice, or if a sentence reads right, or if a paragraph can compel minds, leaves a crippling, obsessive, and maddening urge for perfectionism…

N – Naughty

Trying to translate this to mean I’m not a sucker for rules and like to explore, but I can’t help but feel like, regardless of how I say it, I’d have your mind in the gutters; well, I’m naughty like that too.

O – Obaro

Another word you’d want to look up. Tip: It’s an Urhobo name, and it’s mine.

P – Perhaps and nevertheless

I find it intellectually stimulating and mentally gratifying to ascribe a name to the first ‘untamed feeling’ that comes to mind when I go blank—feeling ‘perhaps and nevertheless’ I’m short of words for the letter “P”.

Q – Quirky

not better, not separate – just different.

R – rebel

a great, anonymous man once said, ‘only those who know, love, and understand the rules, possess the fundamental writer’s right to break them.’ i like to start sentences with lowercase because majuscules are too musculine make me seem too serious; i sometimes have the question and exclamation mark go together with all caps, because how else will i SHOUT AT YOU?! and i know the rule of three is depressingly overused, but what better way is there to make thoughts feel like a drawn-out, tearful farewell, worthy of intricate recollection?

S – Sprucing up thoughts (outside the grade-8 confines)

I’m happy to play dumb if my reader would be smarter for it. But I’m not falling for the grade-8 reading level BS. I read because I DON’T want to make a fetish of preconceptions that keep my brain working on autopilot. So forgive my ignorance (or audacity, tbh) when you find me peeping outside the confines of the day-to-day mashup of familiar words, trussing up unsteady metaphors, or using famously sparse prose to extend a conspicuous level of psychological and emotional thrill of exploration to my readers.

T – Transparent to client, loyal to my audience

If you pay me for an SEO copy, I’d listen to your ideas, give voice to your thoughts, and stay open to feedback. But before squandering meaning on any ‘make it more on-brand’ or ‘more methodical’ with any spammy SEO opinions you might have, know that my loyalty is to those who read it—the folks who might lose sleep without your product—because my work is ultimately judged by how accepting of the copy those fine fellows are.

U – Unsympathetic (toward words)

I know words to be wild, hostile, and untethered creatures; untamed beasts undeserving of the slightest sympathy. Left to their meaning, they evolve into mutinous cliches bold enough to disorient the morale a copywriter like myself needs to beat the familiar into a revelation.

V – Voice (less)

I don’t think ‘voice’ and ‘copywriting’ can sit amicably in the same sentence. Because while I’m supposed to be as fluid as my client needs me to be, there’s the LinkedIn side of things, where I’m supposed to find my voice and be authentic. Oops, that’s two ‘supposed’ in a sentence—I guess I’m still working off assumptions and would best remain on the fence.

W – Winded sentences (long-)

Love the after-taste of long-winded sentences. How, at first, they lure the mind in, promising an objective fix to a problem, but less than a yard later, the words on the page—without even stating the facts—get the mind quibbling; considering the tiny bits of the solution subconsciously hunting the soul, (generative AI’s inability to excite wander), or, in a few cases, the more conscious things (how AI drafts are just as pronounced as they are empty), and sometimes, in very fine cases, the most important things – that to write is to think, and to think is to write.

X – Xylographic-minded

Not one for unfamiliar, 4 syllable words, but the last time I considered my fingers infinitely gifted and deserving of a hobby outside copy, I gouged the words “HOLY” (yea, in all caps) into an oak wood using a set of carving knives and mallets designed for basswood. So I think I’ve earned the right to add Xylographic-minded to my portfolio.

Y – Young

I used to think my creative abilities defined my everyday existence; that stringing words compelling enough to make people substitute ‘want’ for ‘need’ when they think of a product was the joy of my being—now I do Uber and run a laundry biz by the side, and know I can do (and find joy) in even more things through Christ who strengthens me.

Z – Zafi’ng out (in my Hausa accent)

In search of a line that’s beautifully final, I’ll tell you about one of copywriting’s mortal sins I might be hanged for … and that’s not ending with a CTA! Not asking good SaaS founders (like yourself) to DM me; top-level content managers (like yourself) to schedule an intro call, or for fine writers (like yourself) to send in flowers or hate emails so my thoughts don’t aimlessly tail off into silence.