It’s hard to share sample work as a brand writer. It’s so internal—so close to the brand’s center—that most clients prefer it stay private. So I’ve taken on myself as the client.

Here’s a teaser to demonstrate how I approach verbal identity, using my own brand as a guinea pig.

Sorry, NDA.

manifesto.

Often interchangeable with a “brand narrative,” this is a declarative statement that captures the brand’s vision. Consider it your rallying cry.

My instructions for branding are as follows:

1. Turn brand inside out before washing.
It’s less “take a look in the mirror”
more “sprawl out like a patient etherized on a table.”
What I mean is good branding starts with dissection.
You’ve got to find the bloody heart at the brand’s center.

2. Hand wash only.
Because the details are everything.
If you paint with too wide a brush,
the brand will only look real from far away.

3. Use mild detergent.
You don’t need to smell a brand coming for miles.
In tone of voice and messaging, subtlety is your friend.

brand philosophy.

This is the distillation of your brand’s core values.

Tell the truth and make it rhyme.

— composer Stephen Schwartz

A lot of brand writing is fluff with fancy dressing. I consider myself allergic.

I start by telling the truth. But it isn’t enough to be honest; a brand also has to be original. So once I boil a brand down to a singular voice, I add a little seasoning. Sparingly. Here, I pull from principles learned in my double life as a poet and humorist.

tone of voice.

It’s not just what you say, but how you say it. TOV defines key pillars for the way your brand speaks.

As a writer who takes on many tones, it’s tempting to make my own a blank slate. But would an artist hang empty frames on their walls? I mean, maybe. But you get the point.

So I too have a tone. And I’m only mildly afraid to use it.

  • I tell it straight (see: “tell the truth”), but I pepper in the unexpected.

    I do: use metaphors and the occasional non-sequitur.

    I don’t: use SAT vocab words. Or lists of adjectives that are fluffy, excessive, or require these kinds of commas.

  • My job is to play with language. But play can be serious work.

    So the key is to be both useful and original. In other words, waxing philosophical without waning interest.

  • I may be witty, but I’m not trying to one-up or pull one over.

    I nudge open doors to new curiosities. But I always hold the door open.

    Consider me the door-holder of adulthood.

TOV breakdown.

It’s time to make the theoretical, practical. This goes deep on each voice pillar to give real-world examples.

Play is serious work.

“simple yet surprising” in practice

    1. Unoriginal or plain language
      ex. “I help brands find their voice.”

    2. The “pick me” self-deprecating undersell
      ex. “I did a little something. No big deal.”

    1. Random for the sake of random
      ex. I help brands find a voice. I also help rescue turtles, but I digress.

    2. Consultant talk
      ex. By synthesizing multi-disciplinary approaches, I create scalable brand voices.

    1. Witty contradictions

      ex. Play is serious work.

    2. A dash of absurdity

      ex. Poet laureate of my mother’s fridge.

Like a good martini—dry, with a twist.

“playful yet profound” in practice

    1. Gimmicks or dad jokes
      ex. I help brands find their voice. Where’d you last have it?

    2. All sizzle, no steak
      ex. Expect the unexpected—and then expect more. Rules don’t apply here.

    1. Overly philosophical language
      ex. Find your brand’s existential truth.

    2. ~too cool~
      ex. I fuck shit up.

    1. Metaphorical language

      ex. Like a good martini—dry, with a twist.

    2. Seriousness followed by humor

      ex. Serious ideas that don’t wear a suit.

50% Niles Crane,
50% Martin Crane.

“intelligent yet invitational” in practice

    1. Too academic
      ex. Examining the underpinnings of your brand.

    2. A bit snobby
      ex. As Proust might say, enjoying a brand is like savoring a madeleine—slow, sensory, and surprising.

    1. Flat and uninteresting
      ex. Your brand is in good hands.

    2. Expected clichés
      ex. Branding is like looking in a mirror.

    1. Digestible wordplay
      ex. Visual identity is the beauty. Verbal identity is the brains.

    2. Conversation starters
      ex. Let’s imagine your brand’s dinner party seating chart.

Now let’s see that verbal identity in action.

one more thing:

Free your [originality], and the [authenticity] will follow.

So many brands obsess about being perceived as “authentic.” While authenticity is important, I don’t think it makes for a good target.

It’s a bit like chasing your own shadow. “Is this something I would say?” Apparently yes. You just said it.

I prefer to aim for originality. It’s generative, rather than reactive.

and just for fun:

the seating chart.

Billy Collins

David Sedaris

Jane Austen

Larry David

Mary Karr

Frasier Crane

At my brand’s dinner party, Larry David is seated next to Mary Karr. He says, “I’m trying to elevate small talk to medium talk.”

She responds, “A dysfunctional family is any family with more than one person in it.”

Frasier Crane tries to one-up her: “Cupid and his arrow have declared me an endangered species.”

Then comes Jane Austen with a zinger, “I can raise no other emotion than surprise at there being any woman in the world who could like you.”

David Sedaris joins the fun: “If you're looking for sympathy you'll find it between shit and syphilis in the dictionary.”

But Billy Collins brings it home.

”One bright morning in a restaurant in Chicago
as I waited for my eggs and toast,
I opened the Tribune only to discover
that I was the same age as Cheerios.”

Larry David calls this “prettay, prettay good.”