16 ways to get a book crit – By @FMickshik
16 ways to get a book crit
The time has come for us to start getting book crits. This means standing out from the 300 other out-of-work creatives asking industry titans for exactly the same thing. We’ve heard a few suggestions for how to make your book stand out: write a new one from scratch on a megabus from Sunderland to London, attach a bomb to the front, start your own agency. I thought I’d suggest a few more, in case any of my classmates were thinking of just emailing them directly like a normal person (snooze).
Think inside the box: post yourself first class to an agency of your choice.
Create a hostile environment: Oliver and Alex held TikTok accounts hostage. Pathetic. If you take the ECD’s kids hostage, then they’ll really notice you.
Get your teeth in: Rather than putting it underneath your pillow for the tooth fairy to find, send an extraneous incisor straight to the desk of your favourite senior creative, with ideas in teeny tiny writing.
Make my dreams come true: Cold call a Creative Director and list out the 39 most recent dreams you’ve had until they’re so bored they agree to look at your book.
What’s your name again? Keep emailing someone by the wrong name. We hear our names correctly all the time, but when was the last time someone called you Gladys? When the world zigs, zag.
Steal, steal, steal: Send them a list of their campaigns, claiming you’ve come up with them as a new idea. Do it until they realise you think exactly the way they do, and must hire you immediately.
Pet hate: Find the CCO’s missing dog. They’ll never find out you stole her in the first place.
Happy Birthday to you: A cake. You bursting out. Need I say more?
A Corona Virus: Hack the agency’s computers and install a bug that means the only website they can visit is Corona Beer. They will still find this funny after several days, because everyone loves beer.
Taxi Driver: Quickly learn The Knowledge, the mental map of routes every London black cab driver must know by heart to get their license. It only takes 34 months on average, after which you can drive around an industry leader of your choice, and regale them with witty copy rather than a xenophobic rant.
The writing’s on the wall: Paint your SMPs on the outside walls of the agency. As soon as lockdown ends they’ll be confronted with your revolutionary thinking, and you’ll walk into a job.
Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery: Legally change your name to Nils Leonard, go to Uncommon dressed as him, refuse to accept you’re not him. He’s a busy man, eventually they’ll realise that having a spare would come in handy.
Peek-a-loo: Pop into the agency for a wee, hide in the toilets, share ideas across cubicle walls. We all love a natter during a loo break, even Dave Trott.
Love is in the air: Facebook stalk a CD and Photoshop yourself into their wedding photos. This will create a positive association in their mind. Unless they’re divorced.
Make a meal of it: Get a Deliveroo job in Shoreditch, when Mother’s management next order Friday lunch, ensure it comes with some complimentary mashed potato scamps.
Hope my techniques have helped, thank me when you’re a leader of tomorrow.