London Vision Clinic website

The London Vision Clinic website, 99% of which I wrote, is now up and running. Have a look and see what you think.

Hat-trick designed the page templates, based on their new identity for the Clinic, and Quirk did all the technical stuff. The result is a site that offers an extraordinary amount of information, without looking dauntingly dense. Instead, readers can drill down as far as they want to, to find out more about laser eye surgery, and the Clinic's pioneering reputation.

I wrote the Clinic's new brochure too, as you may remember. You can read that story - including the bit about getting fully immersed in the client by having my own eyes lasered - here.

Gavin Martin brochure

Hot off the presses this week is another brochure project. This time, the presses it's hot off are the client's own, because it's for Gavin Martin Associates, printers extraordinaire.



I've known their work for a while - you often see their name on very beautiful pieces of print - and we were introduced by 300million, who asked them to help on my folding mailer. In return, I helped with the copywriting on their brochure, designed by the inspired Magpie Studio.

The theme of 'London's local printer' was picked up in an introductory page...



... and then followed through in a series of Cockney rhyming phrases, shown photographically. No prizes for guessing this one:



I also peppered the copy with some more rhyming slang, and we included a little glossary at the back.

The type on the cover is in a lovely silver foil block (I think that's the term), and the grey A-Z forms a nice background texture. So you really need to see it in the flesh. But until you get that chance, here's a link to a PDF version (4.7MB).

To see what Gavin Martin thought of the copy, click here.

London Vision Clinic brochure

Last year , thanks to a referral from Hat-trick, I started working with the London Vision Clinic, the UK's leading centre for laser eye surgery, and one of the best in the world.


Hat-trick had developed this elegant new identity for the Clinic (above), and were embarking on a new brochure, which I was invited to write. It was the beginning of quite a journey, not only in terms of the project but also for me personally.

At my first meeting with Dan Reinstein, world-renowned surgeon and founder of the Clinic, he took one look at my glasses and said that by the end of this project they'd be gone. The case for laser eye surgery, he felt, was that compelling. Certainly his own confidence and credentials spoke volumes.

Still, I'd always resisted the idea, for the same reason as most people: fear. My idea of laser surgery was something like this:


(Image borrowed from Guardian Unlimited)

It didn't take long for Professor Reinstein to overturn this silly notion, by deploying those most devastating of weapons: facts. And this was to become the theme of the brochure: we'd use the truth about laser eye surgery to educate and reassure people; and we'd use the facts of the Clinic's extraordinary record to show that it is truly second to none.

Then things went one step further. Perhaps, my client said, it would help if I was to undergo the surgery myself? There was no doubt that it would, of course. So, not without a little gulp of trepidation, I said yes.

I've been very short-sighted since I was about 11. That's 20 years ago now. Or, if I'm honest, 27. I've worn glasses all that time, apart from brief flirtations with contacts that never really worked out. To read a book unaided, I had to hold it about three or four inches from my nose.

Now, I have a level of vision I didn't even know existed before I started this brochure. My vision is 20/12: two levels better than 20/20.

And the surgery? Less than 15 minutes of pain-free lying down. There were some flashing lights, some gentle pressure, a little whizzy noise and it was done. I sat up and, even though the corneal swelling produces a sort of pale mist across the vision, I could see. I could read the clock on the wall which, a quarter of an hour earlier, I could just about identify as a clock from its foggy shapes.

There's no doubt this experience focused my writing as well as my eyes. I could write not only from what I'd heard and read, but from what I'd experienced. And so much of that experience came down to trust.


An early page from the brochure

The London Vision Clinic's testing and screening process is phenomenally rigorous - far more so than anywhere else. So you know by the time of your surgery, these people know your eyes in incredibly fine detail. And the attitude is open, honest and inclusive. You always feel in control and able to ask questions.

Discovering all that as a patient, and not just from briefing meetings, was invaluable. I became my own audience - something you always try to do as a copywriter, but which is often about an exercise in empathy and imagination.

So did it work? You be the judge. You can download a PDF of the full brochure (it's 4MB) by clicking here.

(I've now completed copywriting on the Clinic's new website, too. It's currently being built, and I'll let you know when it's live.)

ThinkTank website

I've been writing website after website at the moment. Just seems to be the thing right now. And the first one to emerge into the light is for ThinkTank Media.


ThinkTank is a creative production company that works with lots of interesting clients on a whole range of projects - from the quick and easy to the weird and wonderful. For example, they put together this lovely CD packaging for Thom Yorke's The Eraser, featuring Stanley Donwood's famous illustrations:



From their roots in the music industry, ThinkTank has grown to work with clients in fashion, film, TV, FMCG and telecomms.

They decided to reinvent their site from scratch, with the help of the Bureau of Visual Affairs and yours truly. But as often happens, the copywriting job had wider implications: it was really about finding them a fresh tone of voice that better suited the character of the company.

This turned out to be one of those lovely jobs where client and creative click straight away. I felt I knew the sort of tone that would be right for them, and as soon as they saw some samples, they agreed.

From there, we just got on with what may be the smoothest roll-out of creative work I've ever done. There were lots of bits and pieces to be done, but pretty much every time I did one, the feedback was 'Great! Thanks. Here are some more.' I think they may have changed about four or five words along the way. (Which is not bad when I was chucking in words like 'Eeeaarghhhblurghhrrrg', and making the odd rude joke.)

I'm very proud of the results. The voice is fresh, informal and full of beans, if I do say so myself, and seems a good counterpoint to the cool, sharp visuals of the site. And now the site's up, we're looking forward to producing a whole load of other stuff together.

A little job for me

Producing my new mailer has proved something of a tortuous process, as self-promotional jobs often are.

Initially, the idea was to do something for Christmas '07, and my erstwhile design clients at 300million very kindly offered to help. But when I saw their ideas, I had a feeling this could take a while.

They gave me some options, but there was only ever one real contender. And it was fiendishly complicated to produce.



The idea began as a bit of fun. I've lost track of the number of times clients (and others) have told me you can't start a sentence with 'And'. (Usually because they were told so at school.) This is a fallacy, but it's incredibly persistent.

What amazes me is that clients will often accept all manner of challenges from me on their tones of voice, and on other issues of style or grammar, but become quite intractable on this one point.

So I decided to produce a booklet full of quotes on the subject, from revered authorities on written English. And 300million thought it would be nice to produce a booklet that somehow opened up again and again, in active reflection of the conjunctive theme.



Their most ingenious solution meant folding strips of paper in such a miraculous way that what appeared to be a four-page booklet would keep opening along the spine to reveal new, hidden spreads. They managed to do it, and gave Gavin Martin Associates the hugely complex task of printing it.

Both designers and printers worked like Trojans. Gavin Martin actually ran their presses on this four times, having found that the only way to check it properly was to actually print the damned thing. To me, they described it as 'a labour of love'. I suspect they used less polite language in private.



Nevertheless, we got there. And I'm incredibly proud of the result. It's turned from a bit of fun into something surprising, unique and memorable. That's what I reckon anyway, and I'm delighted to say the responses (look here and here) seem to bear me out.

If you haven't had a copy, I'm very sorry. Please drop me a line, and if there are any left I'll get one off to you. (I'm not made of money, and only printed 300.)

(To see the mailer in action, have a look at the video clip here.)

New Reed words now on sale in Waitrose

Selected Waitrose stores are now stocking a completely new word, created by yours truly.

Papura is the name I developed for a new brand of tissue paper, made almost entirely from 'bagasse', a by-product of sugar production. This left-over sugar cane would normally be dumped, but can instead be transformed into paper.

Not only that, but you don't have to bleach and disinfect it like normal recycled paper - a process that usually demands some pretty harsh chemicals.

This environmental quality, plus of course its lovely soft feel, makes it a purer sort of recycled tissue than most. Hence Papura.


I also wrote the copy for the packaging, designed by Carrow Design. We decided to create a statement about Papura's qualities that would sit facing out of the shelves for customers to scan.


And I don't think Peter Carrow will mind if I crow about the fact that the original idea for the logo also came from Reed Words.

Peter, of course, is a proper designer, and he took my initial thought about a sort of 'infinite loop' in the A and P of the name (which also looks rather like spools of paper), and made it actually work as an elegant piece of type. He had useful things to add to the copy too. Exactly the sort of unselfish writer/designer collaboration I am continually stamping my soapbox about.

Climate Change Festival

Last week saw the world's first Climate Change Festival, held in Birmingham. My clients at CABE (the Commission for Architecture and the Built Environment) were instrumental in creating the Festival, which took a fresh, optimistic look at the climate change issue. And they asked me to write a lot of copy for it.

The Festival's aim was to get people thinking in much more positive ways about environmental challenges, and see them as an opportunity for massive and exciting change; the chance to transform our cities and societies for the better of all.

Central to the Festival were these extraordinary 'benches', which CABE installed all over Birmingham city centre. Each one frames, or points people towards, a certain part of the city, and bears a little message about what's happening there.

The benches were designed by Mark Garside, with graphic design by Violetta Boxill, who also did the Festival's identity. The copy was mine.

CABE also installed a series of photographs around the city, talking about Birmingham's heritage and the opportunities for sustainable development. I wrote the captions for those, too, as well as helping on the Festival literature and posters.

It's a bit hard to show the body copy here, but you can see many more pictures, with close-ups of the copy, on my Flickr page.

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Update: January 2009
I've just heard that I've been appointed to CABE's Editorial Panel, as one of their small but illustrious band of preferred wordsmiths. This is great news, and should mean I'll be able to tell you about further exciting work with CABE in the future. Watch this space.