People don't understand my OTHER job either!

Ages ago I wrote a post about how people don't understand my morning PR job. I mentioned that there's nothing complicated about journalism, which I see as my real job (see that's what I do in the afternoons, evenings, weekends and all other possible working hours. Sometimes). I figure people should understand that "journalism" bit, even if they don't get public relations at all.

Huh!

You have no idea how many times I get asked what I do (that is the Joburg conversation starter) and reply with my well-rehearsed line, *smile nicely* "I work mornings at a PR company as a writer and then I'm a freelance journalist in the afternoons," only to be met with a blank stare and a line of drool rolling slowly down a cheek. On other occasions, I get The Gush, which goes something like, "Oh WOW! That must be like SUPER exciting!!! How awesome!!!"

Yes, dear friends - I can even hear the additional exclamation marks tagged on the end of that sentence, which is usually quickly followed with one of these remarks:

• So have you met anyone famous?
• Did you get to cover the Brangelina / Michael Jackson / Caster Semenya / *insert other popular celeb or news topic here* story?
• What newspaper do you write for?

Firstly, as far as I am concerned, celeb stalking is not news. I really don't think that endless stories on which celebrity is trying to adopt a third world orphan next should be front page headlines. And I am totally clueless when it comes to the rich and famous. I didn't know who David Guetta was until yesterday, for Pete's sake. So no, I didn't cover whatever Brangelina story it is you're talking about. And no, sorry for you - I don't have the inside scoop from Heat or People magazines. What are those, by the way?

Now I have the utmost respect for news journalists, but I am not one. And will probably never be one. News journos get sent where the danger is, where buildings are blowing up or governments are being overthrown. They inform the public, mobilise change and occasionally save the world. They also, however, get sent by miserable editors to sit in month-long court cases and have to interview outraged citizens and slimy politicians. None of those things appeal to me, I must admit.

But it's not even the subject matter that put me off pursuing news journalism... it's the way you have to write. As you know, I can go on and on and on and on. And there's no room for that in news. Or for interesting descriptions and poetic language, of which, believe it or not, I am actually a big fan.

I hate disappointing people by not being a news journo. I always feel like when I try to explain that I prefer feature writing, I'm sort of telling them that there's no Easter Bunny (What? Really? Who was that giant rabbit in my yard then?) and that I must hang my head in shame.

But it's the truth. I enjoy magazine feature writing. And I'm proud of it. Not really. But yes, I love getting to explore a topic and learn about something I may never have thought of before. I love asking people for their professional opinions, not just the facts. I love that occasionally I can include my own thoughts and not just the "objective" truth.

I enjoy that I have a double-page spread or more to fill, not just a tiny box on a broadsheet filled with other boxes. I love seeing my name printed on glossy pages in full colour. It's very satisfying to see women flipping through a magazine I have contibuted towards in a supermarket, even if they don't buy it.

That said, I wish I did more of this kind of work. Maybe that's why "The Gush" gets to me. Because I know that most of the stuff I do is definitely not "SUPER exciting" or even semi-exciting. In fact, a lot of it is about as dull as can be.

I write corporate crap for companies who spout business cliches at impressive speed, like "our employees are really our greatest assets", "At White Male Execs 'R Us, BEE is not just a numbers game - it's the right thing to do" and, my personal favourite from the many dreary employees I interview, "I love my job - it doesn't feel like work to me" delivered in a zombie monotone (hint: I'm not going to tell your boss you said that, so sorreee for you - no extra brownie points today).

I write website copy for people who think that html links are the devil. I even do some basic advertising copy when it comes my way to pay the bills and build up cash for when I can eventually do this stuff fulltime. That's my funniest story, actually. I called someone on behalf of the ad agency I was writing for to get some product info and said to the receptionist, "I'm the copy writer." She replied, "Cool. So what do you copyright? Like new inventions and stuff?"

For real, y'all.

Anyway, I'm off to do some PR, write some fascinating case studies on variable speed drives (whatever those are) and not cover the Patrick Swayze story now. Have a good one.

People don't understand my job!

Not my afternoon job - there's nothing that complicated about journalism (although people do tend to assume that I write for a newspaper. Dunno why. I'm completely useless on the subjects of current news / politics / sports and so on, so that should give them a clue).

But people don't understand my morning job. Yup... they don't understand what the field of public relations is all about. And I guess that's understandable because PR people tend to spin a fancy story that makes it sound far more complicated and impressive than it really is.

You'll hear phrases like "strategic communications", "integrated marketing strategies" and "outsourced one-stop marketing departments", all said in a sexy Cell C stage whisper*. But basically, the agency I work for in the mornings, let's call it Red Tree (because there are an inordinate number of "communications" companies named after a colour and a random object. Trust me on this) does one major thing - we try to get free, positive editorial coverage for our clients in the media.

So let's say the client is a company that offers onsite office pilates classes to businesses as part of their employee wellness programmes. The PR company will write press releases on various topics - maybe how an employee wellness programme can help you to improve staff morale and cut down on company medical costs and employee absenteeism; the benefits of pilates or a profile on the charismatic entrepreneur who founded the company - and then send these to the editors or programme managers of various publications, websites, TV shows and radio programmes to try to convince them that this is a topic worth discussing and to include the PR client's name / business details / achievements / expertise and so on.

All in all, it sounds quite simple. And if it wasn't for the clients, it might be.

See, I can excuse the general public for not understanding PR. But the companies that pay us to do their public relations... surely they should have a clue?

Now I understand that charming PR spin doctors in stilettos or a slick suit may have convinced you that what you NEED is a PR company that UNDERSTANDS you and your business and that Red Tree / Blue Fish / Yellow Porcupine / Green Pencil is the RIGHT company for you (and make no mistake - PR professionals do speak in capital letters. Rather like Death in a Terry Pratchett book)...

BUT... If you are going to pay these people money, surely you ask questions / do research / google "define PR" or something?!?! I would. But maybe that's just me.

Why is it that we get clients that ask us things like, "So where will this press release be placed?" before it's even been written? Here's a thought: it's free space. Strangely, my dear client, editors are less keen to dish this out than they are to accept your paid-for adverts or advertorials. Might just be because the magazine also needs to make money and they have salaries to pay too, y'know?

No? Ok... consider the fact that not everyone in the world will think that your product / company / service is as truly earth-shatteringly awesome as you do. I know it's hard to imagine that there are people out there who are not moved by the thought of your laxatives / office blocks / computer hardware, but it's true. Really! I'm not lying. I wish I was - it would make writing about your product much easier.

Also, there's the fact that I'm not psychic. Sorry to disappoint you, but I really can't predict ahead of time what an editor will choose to do. So when I send him or her your latest press release, I'm afraid I can't promise you a placement before it's even been read. Sucks, I know. But such is the way of the (PR) world.

And when you ask me to organise a media breakfast to mark the launch of your new range of tick and flea shampoo, please understand I mean no offence when I say, "Nobody gives a rat's bottom." The truth hurts, baby. And the truth is... the media have better things to do. Unless you can promise French champagne, a free weekend in a 5-star hotel or a Rolex goodie bag, most journos won't be interested in your little media event. Sorry.

Please don't feel the need to copy me in on every email you send to your suppliers / factory / board of directors / mother / ex-boyfriend either. I need to know the newsworthy stuff only. Got it? Ok, maybe that one where you threatened to cut your ex's genitals off and sew them to his forehead was newsworthy, but not in the way I meant!

Then, if you can cut out checking up on my progress every half an hour I'll be infinitely more happy and productive. If Elle magazine refused to place your release on the benefits of your (butt ugly) orthopaedic slippers this morning, chances are they won't agree to it this afternoon.

The only other thing I ask is that you acknowledge the fact that I studied journalism and you did not. When I send you a press release for approval and you change my sentence from, "The shopping centre's design is based on its natural surroundings and the architectural lines echo the curve of the adjacent riverbed" to "The Shopping Centers design is founded on it's natural surrounds; while the architectural lines are based on the gently sloping curve of the nearby river that the Shopping Center overlooks"... I want to kill you. No offence.

If you can keep these points in mind, I'm sure our relationship will blossom as you allow Red Tree / Purple Zebra / Silver Banana / Pink Lizard to address your individual communications needs in a strategic and dynamic manner.

*Cell C is a telecommunications company. Its radio and TV ads are always read by a lady with a low, husky voice who has become known as "The Voice of Cell C". Some say she sounds like a phone sex operator. Others think she suffers from chronic laryngitis.