What it is that I do

Time after time, people, my parents included, ask me: “What is it you do?”

Saying I am a writer is insufficient, until you consider the outcome.

I write with a purpose. Usually to persuade. To get results. And I do it remarkably well.

I have written a script attracting three different audiences (simultaneously) to a Chinese tourist attraction in Sydney (poetic, the client said). Crafted content for ice cream, pre-prepared food, and fried chicken franchises (not simultaneously). Television commercials for golfing equipment (just don’t ask me to play).

Marketing material for a chemical foam that soaks salt and moisture out of historic buildings and frescos (and, at times, the life out of me). Explanations of conveyor belts (far from moving, but highly effective).

Conference presentations for businesspeople that have won multimillion-dollar contracts (once pulling in two simultaneously). Proposals securing millions in research funds. Complex tenders resulting in large projects. Sales material for security products and services (even private prisons). Training courses, and videos, including one explaining evidence to final-year law students.

Articles and op-eds that have appeared in mainstream and trade press around the world, including the New York Times and Washington Post, as well as on radio and television.

Speeches for politicians, policymakers, and academics that have shaped government policy. (A report advising US national security officials recommending why the American President should withdraw troops from Afghanistan. He did a few months later. Connection? Who knows.)

I have worked for corporations, government departments, NGOs, and universities. Shopping centres, entrepreneurs, barristers, personal injury lawyers, think tanks, and highly paid consultants.

Airlines, marketing firms, advertising agencies, and video production outfits. Tech bros, karate experts, craft shop owners (ask me about pinking shears and fat quarters), private military contractors (not be confused with mercenaries), and religious institutions (God help us).

If you see yourself on this list, we should talk about working together. And, if you don’t, I would love to meet you.

Being a pro keeps me loving my job.

Few things beat hearing a client say:

"You have captured our voice."

"You added the magic we needed."

"You nailed it."

(Actually, your invoice has been paid comes close.)

My favourite compliments have been:

"You have this ability to disappear in front of people's eyes and focus entirely on the subject."

"You shared an incredible depth of knowledge delivered with deep humility."

"We pay him too much, but he’s worth every penny."

Heroes & influences

Cicero, David Ogilvie, Andy Maslen, Charles Handy, Robert Bly, Aaron Sorkin, Seneca, Marcus Aurelius.

Location independent

I was a portfolio worker before digital nomad became a thing. The difference the internet has has more to do with speed and overcoming distance than the nature of the work itself. As long as my clients win contracts, sell products or services, secure research grants, get the business or change a policy, it does not matter where I am.

I sat next to a rooftop pool in the Middle East as the mullahs called people to prayer, writing about a tourist attraction in Australia. At a lakeside in Ontario, Canada, lightning hit a cabin and set it on fire while I was writing material for a risk management firm in New South Wales, Australia. From my apartment in Porto, Portugal, I worked on a communications course for politicians and their staff in Tbilisi, Georgia.

When I remarked to the risk firm manager about the irony of the lightning strike, he responded: "So, we are paying you to sit on lakesides overseas to do our work?"

I replied: "No, you pay me for what I do, not for where I am."