Writing and fundraising blog

John (Tripods) Christopher’s 1977 sci-fi novel Empty World describes planet Earth decimated by the Calcutta Plague, a deadly virus that causes rapid ageing, quickly followed by death (it's not a jolly book). So, most of the older population is wiped out, leaving teenagers and people in their 20s in charge.

Fortunately, in 1977, most of the teens and twenties were Baby Boomers not Millenials. So the world was taken over by self-assured, goal-centric resourceful people with a strong work ethic. Rather than social media-obsessed, financially irresponsible, kidult babies obsessed with going out for brunch and eating avocado on toast. (I'm Gen X, by the way, so my main aim in life is to annoy Millenials.)

But the most fortunate thing (spoilers!) is that the book was a work of fiction (phew). Old people are not dying out. Well, yes they are, but here's the trick: they are being replaced by middle-aged people becoming older people.

Here's how it works: in 2014 I turned 40. Fast forward ten years to 2024 and I turned 50. You may have experienced something similar. What I realised when I turned 50 is that I have a lot more living to do. The only alternative to getting older is not being alive any more. And who wants that?

So, it's strange when charities start chasing a Millennial audience in this day and age. That's because:
• Older people (55+) are more likely to donate than younger people.
• This is due to a combination of biological and cultural factors.
• Older donors are more likely to give repeatedly.
• Successful fundraisers understand and target the motivations of older donors.
(For a fuller explanation read this Moceanic blog: https://lnkd.in/eSM-FaTW - The Fundraiser’s Practical Guide to Older Donors: 3 Things You Need to Know by Jeff Brooks.)

And we are not running out of people becoming older, and becoming donors. They're unstoppable. In 2022 in the UK alone there were 4 million people aged 50-54. Two years later millions of them will now be 55+ and potential donors. Not all of them, just the very best ones.

Of course, it's very important to target Millennials to become donors. But the first Millenials will be aged over 55 in 2037. So let's not rush, eh? Unless there's a plague coming or something. Hang on...

In the early 1990s, I was working as a ‘Saturday boy’ at Superdrug in Walton-on-Thames. I sat down to eat my sandwiches and overheard two older staff members talking about how they loved Celine Dion. Only neither of them could pronounce Celine Dion. I could. But I was too nervous to correct them.

Thirty years later I was jet-washing my brick driveway. Have you ever jet-washed anything? If not, here’s a tip: it takes ages. The first brick is satisfying. The second almost as much. By brick 47 you are soaking wet, you hate all bricks and you still have 467 to go.

That’s when my mind wandered back to that overheard conversation in Superdrug. And I thought: ‘What if I had decided to correct their pronunciation of Celine Dion?’ A play started forming in my head. 467 bricks later, I had written the whole play.

Now you can come and see it performed:

PAGE TO STAGE - A SHOWCASE OF SELECTED WORK
FRI 13 & SAT 14 SEPTEMBER 7:45 pm - 9:30 pm

Event Details
New voices and new talents are surfacing at the cornerHOUSE. See a showcase of selected work from the cornerHOUSE playwrights group who, after much critical discussion and rewriting, bring us an evening of drama performed script in hand.

Don’t Say What You’re About To Say by Peter Shaw
It’s 1994 and two women are discussing their favourite singers during a tea-break in a warehouse, much to the annoyance of Chris, a co-worker who is trying to break into the music business. The women persuade Chris to sing a song. Will it all end in perfect harmony?

Tickets cost £10 and are available from www.thecornerhouse.org

Here's how you can get BAGS of insight from your audience by observing their behaviour...

Been sorting through your clothes recently? I am pretty sure many of you have because my kitchen bin isn’t overflowing like it was in the Summer.

How are these two events connected? Yes, well, I was getting to that.

A few years ago we got a new kitchen fitted and our old bin didn’t fit in (sorry bin, but it’s bin good to have you). The new bin is a marvel, as all you have to do is wave your hand above it and it opens. So you can pretend to be a Jedi (opening a bin). And if you count to 12 you can wave your hand and pretend to shut it again. As wise master Yoda once said, “A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defence, never for attack. Sometimes to open and close bins.”

But there was a problem. None of the bin liners seemed to fit. Some were too big. Some were too small (don’t worry, I won’t go there again). Until I tried using one of those charity clothes collection bags that come through the letterbox. They fit! Perfectly. So all I had to do was wait for the charity bags to come. And that was my gravest mistake.

In the Spring there was an abundance. But then, come Summer, the drought arrived. We didn’t get any through the post for months. I begged, borrowed and (to my shame) stole from friends and relatives. In September I resorted to an ill-fitting bin liner that only attached to three corners. You know the ones, where the dirtiest objects find their way to the bottom of the bin through the uncovered corner. And then, one terrible day, it overloads and the whole thing collapses. So you may as well never have had a bin liner in the first place.

Then in October, there was a flood. Four (yes FOUR) charity bin bags in one week! I was in bin liner heaven. But it got me thinking. Because one of the charity bags ended up full of clothes. The arrival of the bag in the post coincided with the Shaw household clearing out and reorganising our wardrobes: summer clothes to winter clothes.

So this is my theory: these charity bag people aren’t fools. They know what we are up to. They know that the beginning of Autumn and Spring are the times when people sort their clothes out. And we plan to take them to a charity shop. But why bother if there’s a plastic bag you can put them in and leave them outside your house for collection?

They know their audience. But, most of all, they know about their audience’s behaviour. Yes, we’ve all been meaning to clear out our wardrobes all Summer, but we only get around to it when we have to. And that’s when the seasons switch from Summer to Autumn and Spring to Summer.

So, if you want to reach your audience (whoever they are) don’t worry about what they tell you they want, or what they tell you they should be doing. Observe their behaviours/habits and respond to them instead. Plus, note down the volume of your new bin when you buy it, so you don't have to wait by your postbox for days when it gets full.

Writers and other creatives often get asked, ‘Where do you get your ideas from?’ I was pondering this while being tortured at the dentist this morning. It’s a strange thing to be put through agony, be told off and then have to pay for it. But I digress…

As the dental hygienist cleaned my teeth, it reminded me of a few weeks ago when Kärchering (a posh way of saying jet-washing) our brick driveway. I remember firing up the Kärcher (imagining it to be a Ghostbuster’s Proton Pack) and jet-washing the first brick. It came up marvellously. And it was bright red, which hitherto I would never have suspected. This was a rather satisfying experience. Until I realised there were several hundred bricks to go…

And you can’t just wash a few dozen bricks. Oh, no. Once you’ve started, you’re there for the duration. ‘Every brick or no brick’ is the Kärcher code. In total, it took me about four and a half hours (including a brief interlude when I ate a frankfurter sat on my doorstep, much to the amusement of passing neighbours).

It was long, slow, but satisfying work. It was also mindless, repetitive and didn’t require any great skill (ideal for me). Which was great. Because my brain was free to wander. And it did. (Don’t worry, it came back. Eventually.)

As I sprayed, I started thinking about something I overheard while working at Superdrug 30 years ago. That turned into a conversation in my head, which became dialogue, which became a short play idea. Which I’ve now written and will send to a one-act play competition I’d been meaning to get around to. (Will keep you posted.)

People think a writer’s greatest fear is staring at a blank page. But I think Stephen King and his ilk* have come up with far more frightening things. Probably while Kärchering or sanding a table or going for a long walk or staring into a log fire (my favourite).

So beware of expecting to write with a pen in hand or in front of a screen. Most writing happens elsewhere. The problem isn’t getting ideas, it’s growing ideas so that your blank page fills itself. To go back to where this all started, writing shouldn’t be like pulling teeth. It should give you a brighter smile/driveway.

So, if you see a writer staring into space, lying in bed until noon or wandering around aimlessly, they’re not being idle. They’re being creative. No, really.

* ‘Stephen King’s Ilk’ sounds like a book title, doesn’t it?

I have one piece of SOLID GOLD advice for freelance and (frankly) any writers/copywriters! But first, a fairy story...

Once upon a time, I moved into a tumbledown cottage. But I had a problem. I couldn't find a table to fit in the kitchen. Some were too big. Some were too small. (I think I bought the house from a family of bears.)

So, after finding a bag of shiny gemstones, I asked a nearby woodcutter with golden hair (the best kind) to make a table for us. I sent her all the exact measurements (checked it twice). And she started doing her carpentry magic.

A few months later, she arrived in her carriage with a beautiful new table. We heaved it into place but... disaster! It was too big for the kitchen. You couldn't get baby bear around it, let alone mummy bear (or daddy bear).

So I asked her what happened – did she get the measurements wrong? She replied that she knew the exact size but found it hard to cut it down to the right length. And she was hoping that I could do it.

I told her I was paying her to do that and, after I'd cut it down, I'd have to sand the edges and make it good. She just apologised and asked for her money.

I didn't live happily ever after.

To the point! I am an editor and, mostly, I edit publications. Publications have pages and (good editors like me) know how big they are and how much copy we want on them. We don't want any more, a little bit less... OK.

One publication I edit has a 500-word limit on each page because of the template. If you go over that, the photo on the page gets too small. If you write me 600 words, I have to cut it down to 500. If you write me 550 words, I have to cut it down to 500. If you write me 520... (you get the idea).

So, it's surprising how many copywriters (freelance and internal) send me their copy with a note: 'It's a little over the word count, you can probably cut it down' or 'I've written more than the word count and, hopefully, you can fit it in'.

Yes, I can cut it down but why didn't you? No, I can't magically fit more into a finite page. The trouble is, I am usually too close to the deadline to hand it back, and it may cost more money. So, yes, I have to cut it down.

So, this is my SOLID GOLD tip for all freelance and internal/any copywriters: make your editor's (or client's) day by sticking to the word count. Then your fairy editor can spend their time finessing your copy so that it shines like the golden hair of a woodcutter (who delivered the correct sized table).

When he was seven, my son found a stash of my old Beanos (and thankfully nothing else) at my mum's house. He started reading and loved them. So we bought him a new Beano. He loved that too. So we started buying it every week. Then we took out a Beano subscription.

We bought him the annuals, specials, a personalised Beano book and we went to a Beano exhibition. We took my daughter too (she was six) and she didn't think much of it.

Then, when he was 12, my son stopped reading the Beano. He started to read geography books (I didn't have a stash of them in case you were wondering). We were thinking of cancelling his subscription, and possibly getting professional help for the geography thing.

But when my daughter was seven, she started reading the Beano too (borrowing it from my son). Now she's read all my copies, his copies and everything else. So we kept subscribing to the comic for her. We are planning to buy her a personalised Beano book for Christmas (don't tell her, please).

So, why is this on LinkedIn? Wait for it...

The people who write, design and produce the Beano know their audience. It's for kids aged about seven to about twelve. Some may read it younger, a few may read it for life. But, like me, my son and probably my daughter in a few years, people tend to stop reading the Beano at about 12.

So why doesn't DC Thomson panic and start writing for an older readership to stop people from unsubscribing when they reach about 12? Because there is always another generation of readers who are about to become seven. And if they make it for 13-year-olds it will no longer be the Beano, and the next generation won't read and subscribe.

So, you get it! Know who your audience are and whatever you do, do it for them. And if someone comes and tells you they can reach a younger/older/different audience proceed with caution. They may not be suitable for what you do. They may come on board at the expense of your current audience. You may produce something that is so desperate to reach everyone it's no longer suitable for anyone.

And that, dear readers, is my first-ever blog post. I am now officially not just middle-aged but dull and middle-aged. I think I might go and read the Beano.