Copywriters on the rack #36: Megan Rose Douglas
Hello and welcome to Copywriters on the Rack, you crazy fool.
Who are you and what do you do to pay the bills?
I’m Meg(an Rose Douglas)! A tea-drinking brand copywriter from Hertfordshire with slightly unpredictable hair and a job I utterly love. I write all sorts of copy, but really love projects that include a good dollop of brand voice, creativity and strategy. I work direct with B2C and B2B businesses and charities, and through design studios and agencies.
What was your career path to get to where you are now?
You’ll be sorry you asked.
I fell in love with (what I now know is) copy as a teenager, inhaling copy from shampoo bottles, clothing labels, billboards and signage. But I didn’t know copywriting was a thing until I hit my mid-30s. By then, I’d spent 15 years working for The National Trust and Hertfordshire County Council.
I took a job with the National Trust after uni and I stayed for five years, writing words for exhibitions, visitor guides, recruitment ads and training materials. I also unblocked loos, chased escaped sheep, supervised film crews and conserved historic interiors. It was fun! I missed having weekends and bank holidays off, though.
I moved into multi-agency emergency planning at the council (emergency planning was also part of my job at the Trust), writing documents that had to make sense to everyone from the voluntary sector to the military. I also wrote public awareness campaigns and, er… might have done a bit of pandemic planning too. Five years went by and, after being part of the local planning for the 2012 Olympics (fascinating), I moved to Children’s Services.
There, I spent almost five years (I know, always five…) writing for staff across social care, health, schools and police, and for families who were often a bit wary of us. Eventually, I realised how much I love writing, took a risk, left my job and followed my (nerdy copywriter) heart 🧡
I reckon all that real-life experience sets me apart from the crowd. Plus, I’m National Trust-trained in dusting and can successfully chase (and occasionally catch) escaped sheep. And not every copywriter can say that.
When we’re done here, you can give this dungeon a going over, the cobwebs are too high for Egor, bless his scaly skin. Anyway, what’s the best thing about your job?
Daytime naps when needed. And having control over the variety of clients. Two things, not one, but equally wonderful.
What’s the worst?
Ghosting. Not only does it make it genuinely impossible to plan things properly, it’s also just plain rude.
Ah, we’ve got a few ghosts down here, as it goes. How do you fill the gaps when you’re not doing the day job?
Lego. Walks by the river (saw baby great crested grebes for the first time this year). Drinking tea (or gin) with friends.
Now we’ve got the formalities out of the way, let’s go rogue:
You’re locked in a cell with 2-foot thick stone walls and no windows. Outside the solid steel door, two fully tooled-up guards keep watch in shifts, 24 hours a day. Armed with only a bicycle pump, a bag of catnip and a coconut macaroon, what’s your escape plan?
Eat the macaroon (duh).
Use the pump to inflate the bag of catnip, then explode it just as the guards come in to do their rounds.
Sing “I know a song that’ll get on your nerves” to further discombobulate the guards.
And run.
Write me a poem about Pyrimidinecarboxylic acid.
Pyrimidinecarboxylic acid
Are you one word or two?
The internet’s divided
So what can we do?
Hats off to your uses,
Obscure as they are,
From what I can tell,
Your gonna go far.
Write me three straplines for:
1) Disneyland Kazakhstan – There’s magic in every steppe
2) Iceland’s new range of frozen maggots – Yum’s gone from Iceland
3) The Fetish Society – Our wish is your command
Explain Psychology to an alien.
It’s why we do what we do. Now take me to your leader.
Draw me a picture of a tiger having its nails done (yes I know you’re a writer, but do it anyway).
I know that’s not a whole tiger but I think you can see enough to tell my artistic talents are not up to this task.
Write a 107-word brand narrative for Maureen Lipman’s Underwater Yoga School.
Yoga’s been around for thousands of years. And in all that time, it hasn’t really changed or evolved.
We all know that newer is better. You upgrade your phone, right? Buy a new car? Binge each series of Love Island as it drops?
With an ology in sports innovation, Maureen’s here to shake yoga up by taking it to new depths.
The water’s support means less effort, and that has to be a win. All you have to do is remember not to drown. Easy.
Think less strength, more jeopardy.
How long do you think you can you hold your breath for?
It’s time to find out.
If you could bring any cartoon character to life, which one would it be?
Popeye, because he always saves the day (or at least, that’s what I took away from watching it as a kid).
Ain’t no one saving you here, Meg. What is love?
Love is sneaking my favourite chocolate bar into the shop while I’m not looking, so I find it later when I’m unpacking the groceries.
(Wispa, by the way.)
Who would be the guests at your nightmare dinner party and what would you serve to make it even worse?
CJ de Mooi. Katie Hopkins. Russell Brand. Kardashians (any or all).
Cucumber coconut surprise (see below).
Pick a random pic from your camera roll and tell us about it.
This little guy is always there for me (on the other side of my desk) when I need a little help clearing blocked creative pores.
A couple of years back, I was feeling like my brain was made of sludge (or maybe cheese) and I couldn’t shake it. It had been a week or more and nothing helped.
In desperation, I dragged out a dusty box of craft stuff and in 30 seconds, this guy happened. My brain unstuck, and now he keeps a googly eye on me and makes sure to lend a hand (metaphorically – he doesn’t have arms, so hands would be a stretch) when those pores are getting sticky.
Write me a very short story featuring: A baboon with a runny tummy, John Lennon with his thumb superglued to an irate dentist and Mr. T. in a tutu.
1974. Alternative Health Clinic, New York.
John Lennon (victim of freak crafting accident), Barry (thinks he’s a baboon, has the runs) and Dr Jake Trebay (dentist, angry, victim of freak superglue incident) pirouette with a tutu-ed Mr T at his therapeutic ballet workshop.
Alas, nobody is cured.
Who would win in a fight: Wallace or Gromit?
Gromit, obviously.
Write me dictionary definition entries for ‘Wilcock’s Lexicofantabulous Compendium of Oddities and Soddities’:
1) Kadibadi – The art of making edible jewellery from flavoured candy (also – and actually – a dish of Indian cuisine).*
2) The Northern Hartsnark – An invisible hummingbird fabled to sing beautifully, but only when the world’s end is less than 6.5 weeks away. Tragic, really.
3) Emperor’s Wiffle – An acid yellow flower, not unlike the snowdrop in shape. Native only to the saltmarshes of North Norfolk.
What’s the worst thing you’ve ever eaten?
Cucumber. Also cottage cheese.
What will they play at your funeral?
You’d have to ask them, but I think it should be O Fortuna from Carmina Burana. I loved it when I was little (and still do now) and I used to ask dad to play the record lots. I called it The Angel Music. Seems fitting, and would send me out in suitably dramatic style.
Make up your own question and tell me whatever you want to get off your chest.
Not the most exciting question, but what have you been working on recently, Meg?
Well, Meg, it’s funny you should ask. I’ve been writing copy for a kids’ food brand. Tone of voice? Dinosaur. I really do love my job. RAARRR.
Give me three reasons why I should let you go.
1) Because I know a song that’ll get on your nerves.
2) Get on your nerves.
3) Get on your nerves.
And before I remove the shackles, tell us where we can find you online.
Ok, go, go. Your singing makes my torture look like a date with a tickling stick.
Got a few minutes left in the tank? Give this a whirl – Copywriters on the rack #27: Andrew Boulton
*Kadibadi, not to be confused with Kadhi Badi – one is daft, the other will blow your head off.