THE 362-PAGE RESUME. (OR, HOW AN UNPUBLISHED ADVERTISING BOOK GOT ME A GREAT JOB I DIDN’T KNOW I WANTED.)

Being a freelance writer is great if you value your free time. You can earn enough to cover your monthly nut, and squander your free time as you like. I’m proof. I’ve spent the last five years without a commute, an internal-staff meeting, or filling out timesheets.

I’ve been working, writing, and enjoying time with my wife. Tinkering on old cars, hanging out in the pool, binge-watching Netflix, and learning metal fabrication from a local hot rod builder for whom I created an ad campaign and a website in barter.

For reasons I didn’t completely understand, I also wrote a book. Not a fictional work, like many creatives do. No, I’ve written a book about everything I’ve learned as a writer and creative director. As it turns out I’ve learned a heckuva lot. So I thought it might be a good idea to put a few of my thoughts in writing. Sometimes I learned the easy way. Sometimes not.

And yes, sometimes this business dealt me an unsavory hand.

In between freelance gigs and building a fledgling ideation business with my son, Cameron Jr., a fellow writer new to the advertising world, I wrote until I had nothing left to say.

MY ADVERTISING SURVIVAL GUIDE IS FINISHED. NOW WHAT?

Beyond a handful of people who helped me edit and proof “Chew With Your Mind Open”, my book has been largely invisible to the universe. If I had to put in one word what makes it unlike the many ad books I’ve seen and read, I’d tell you it’s mentorship, the one thing I miss most about being a working ECD.

After a lovely recent visit from our son, Drew who lives in Denver, my wife Debbie and I had a chat about our future and how much we’d love to have both our adult sons in one place again. We talked about the possibility of moving back to Denver, a place where Cameron Jr, and his girlfriend Rebecca, also had an interest in moving. 

The next morning, serendipity. As we awakened, I popped open the Denver Egotist advertising blog and there it was. Amelie was looking for an ECD. I remembered noticing great work created by them when I was ECD of Barnhard Communications before returning to Austin in 2014.

I knew a writer who worked there. So I called and asked him for the lowdown. The agency was similar in size to McGarrah Jessee back when I joined them many moons ago. They’d won Ad Age Small Agency of the Year back in 2017, which McGarrah Jessee had also won right before the economy cratered and universe shifted.

I didn’t write a cover letter, or inquire via email as the posting suggested. Instead, I asked my friend to toss my name in the ring with the caveat that the planets would have to perfectly align for me to step into the role.

He was happy to help.

I wrote an email to Benoit, one of the founders, with a few observations about the challenging year they were coming out of, in which no less than two very respectable creatives had passed through the position they were once again looking to fill.

My email was met with genuine interest. A trip to Denver was suggested and when the owners invited my wife along, my interest level rose. The day I arrived at their office, I met half a dozen people and was reminded of how the culture, while far from perfect, felt a lot like the good old days of McGarrah Jessee, the best and most challenging job I’d ever had.

It felt like a tight-knit, albeit slightly dysfunctional family.

Debbie and I met the partners, Benoit and Robin, and I explained that I didn’t want to discuss numbers. I wanted to talk philosophy and suss out whether we were on a similar page. I asked Benoit to tell me what he was looking for that he didn’t get from his previous leaders.

His answer was one word. Mentorship. I couldn’t believe my ears.

That’s when I reached into my computer bag for my 362-page manuscript. I explained that I had just gotten through working with an editor and that while still rough, I'd written a book about all about mentorship. I suggested that I leave it with the partners to read, skim, or consume in whatever fashion they saw fit. I explained that there’s no better explanation of my philosophy and leadership abilities than what I’d just spent the last two years writing -- and yes, rewriting about.

Debbie and I felt a genuinely warm connection to Benoit and Robin and admired the company they’d created together. We returned to Austin knowing that if a job was offered, I should try like crazy to make the stars align. Within days, I was offered the title of ECD, and I countered. Although I would certainly be acting in that capacity, I wasn’t interested in that title.

I would take the job if they made me Chief Creative Mentor. Heads nodded and the deal was done.

Denver, here I come.

As of March 11th, Cameron Day will no longer be a freelance content creator operating out of Austin, Texas. Two-headed Cam will continue to create content as a millennial writer with his proud papa providing oversight.