Re-Born This Way: How MS Helped Me To Ditch The Askholes And Reshape My Business

You know that enough’s enough moment? Imagine having that feeling for months and months and doing nothing about it. That was me. When MS came knocking at my door again, something HAD to change. It was my saving grace. Yes, really.

IT won’t work. I know it won’t work.

I tell the client it won’t work.

I explain why it won’t work.

I am a journalist. Some may say an ex-journalist.

You see, I went to the dark side.

PR. Public Relations.

The ultimate sin for a journo.

In this moment, as the client is on the verge of making a major U-turn on their PR, by playing it way too safe, I am still a journalist. Even in my role as PR consultant, journalism is in my veins.

And this journalist, working with the client to attract the positive attention of other journalists, knows what they are suggesting is a backward step.

My spidey news sense is kicking in. Everything inside me is yelling “Don’t bottle it!”

I know the customer is always right, but what to do when you know they’re wrong?

I know the customer is always right, but what to do when you know they’re wrong?

I know all that hard work we’ve put into the campaign, the key messages agreed, are going up in smoke. All because someone on the team has got the jitters and wants to dumb down the punchy press release and replace it with a thinly veiled advert for their products and services.

No decent journalist will go for this watery offering.

Good journalists smell a plug disguised as a press release a mile off, and the aroma’s overpowering.

Yet still the client forges ahead, against my advice.

Fine wine

Sound like sour grapes? Nah. I’m like a fine wine. Getting better with age and I want the client to benefit from my experience.

I’ve been doing this for more than 25 years.

I’ve written front page leads, features, opinion pieces, movie, music and theatre reviews.

I’ve interviewed politicians, TV and movie stars, business gurus and the ordinary man and woman in the street countless times who are, of course, never ordinary. That’s the beauty of human interest stories; you meet the most amazing people who often don’t realise just how amazing they are.

With all these thousands upon thousands of words, and hours upon hours of interviews, you get a feel for what works, for what makes a great shareable story. That which connects a human with another human so powerfully.

But back to the press release fiasco.

By now, the first draft has become a third draft.

I take a deep breath and explain why I think they’re undoing the good work.

I spell out how their press release, in its present form, will be lost in a sea of boring sales puffs, dressed up as stories when they’re not remotely newsworthy.

I spell out how their press release, in its present form, will be lost in a sea of boring sales puffs, dressed up as stories when they’re not remotely newsworthy.

I take them through the meatier, livelier press release I’ve written, line by line, and explain why this WILL get journalists interested and wanting to know more.

Why it will set them apart from competitors and showcase them as an expert in their area of business.

Why it will help them build a strong relationship with a journalist and keep them coming back for more ‘brand you’.

Waiting game

I pause. I wait.

But the customer is adamant. It’s not the right approach.

All I hear is a reply peppered with ‘what ifs’…

I don’t agree. In my world, the risks are minimal and the opportunities massive.

I sigh inwardly.

But PR me takes a deep breath and smiles. A big smile, but one that doesn’t quite reach my eyes. I’ve had plenty of opportunity to practise it.

The client mumbles. Then mumbles some more.

I’m slowly losing the will to live.

Then THE announcement.

The ‘safe’ press release will lead the charge into the world of journalists, its desperate voice lost in the noise of every other pluggy press release.

The client has spoken and I am left picking up the pieces in frustration.

Preparing for the inevitable

Right now, I’m collecting giant, elephant poo-sized dollops of trepidation for when the proverbial s**t hits the fan.

It always does when clients aren’t willing to trust your gut, your years of experience, your consultancy (which, incidentally is what you’re paid to do. Consult).

Some of you may be thinking I didn’t argue my case well enough, or often enough.

And yes, you may be right.

But, I’m tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of the knockbacks, the complete disregard of my expertise, my journalistic input — the same thing they were so excited about when they employed me.

I’m tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of the knockbacks, the complete disregard of my expertise, my journalistic input — the same thing they were so excited about when they employed me.

I’m done.

I sit back in my chair and await the missiles.

We send the release out.

We follow up. We call. We email. We call some more.

Nothing.

We wait. Still nothing.

Hello. Would you like to advertise?

Then a small flurry of calls. Sales teams have had the press release passed onto them by their journalist colleagues and explain, in detail, just how much brand exposure is up for grabs…if my client takes an advert or, better still, a series of adverts.

Will we take an ad? No!

Just what I warned of.

Now, the only options available to us require payment.

You should never have to pay to place good content. Ever.

And so it goes on. Again and again…and again.

Spend ages coming up with the strongest angle.

Yet again, explain why this will get journalistic attention.

Still, same old, same old.

Tired messages, wrapped up with worn, corporate speak and zero news value.

I’ve seen more hot news in an episode of Cash In The Attic, and a damn sight more life in the antiques than the PR babble being spouted.

Warning signs

I’m now understanding those warnings.

Why my journalist colleagues ribbed me about venturing into PR all those years ago.

They knew how frustrated I’d feel.

They knew how trotting out the same, carefully compiled soundbites, key messages and phrases and dressing them up as headline grabbing news would leave me tearing my hair out.

And they did.

Time after time.

Great idea. Take it to the client.

Client rejects it.

Or, worse still, client goes for it and then bottles it at the eleventh hour.

Aaaaarrrrggggghhhhh!

Is it ever worth this?

I was caught in a weird kind of limbo and it was exhausting.

My bank account the only thing to give me a momentary high.

And it was momentary.

No amount of money in the bank can make up for the feeling of selling your soul.

No amount of money in the bank can make up for the feeling of selling your soul.

And, that’s what it was beginning to feel like.

Trust

As a journalist, I’d known, understood and relished my role and, most of the time, loved it.

I was trusted and left to get on with it.

No hyper vigilance, no checking of every sentence, every word choice dissected and then multiple pairs of eyes making changes for the sake of it.

My ability to gather the relevant information and write an engaging, informative, rounded, impartial piece of editorial was never in question.

Well, hardly ever. And if it was, on the odd occasion, you can bet there was a damn good reason.

I understood, and respected, the rules that kept us safe and on the right side of the law.

But this PR world was different. So different.

*I* was different.

I was a fish out of water, being continually caught on the hook, left on the side, gasping for air, then plopped back into the murky PR depths to be plucked back out at any time.

I was a fish out of water, being continually caught on the hook, left on the side, gasping for air, then plopped back into the murky PR depths to be plucked back out at any time.

This life was soul destroying over time and no good for my mental health.

At this point, I want to make one thing clear.

PR consultancies are not the devil.

Phenomenal

There are some truly phenomenal creatives out there, running stunning PR campaigns, getting people’s brands and stories into the right places at the right time.

But, to me, they are a different beast. I know that now.

Many PR and marketing consultancies — if they’re not doing it already — could benefit hugely, from having a journalist on board to offer valuable insight.

But years ago, as a 40 something woman, working from home while struggling with a Multiple Sclerosis diagnosis and, on the verge of peri-menopause, I was not happy.

To cap it all, I was still holding onto grief for my dear dad.

But let’s not turn this into the Asha Clearwater pity party. It’s not about that.

I take full responsibility for my actions and — at times — my inaction.

I’m mentioning this because it’s a great reminder of how we can sometimes miss the warning signs, even if they are delivered as bloody great big boulders — like the ones I was failing to dodge.

I’m mentioning this because it’s a great reminder of how we can sometimes miss the warning signs, even if they are delivered as bloody great big boulders — like the ones I was failing to dodge.

When we’re just getting by for the sake of getting by, not doing something we love, feeling out of place and out of sorts on a grand scale — as I was — we never give our best.

We never feel our best either; pushing down the issues instead of looking at them, carrying on with a smile that’s not quite a smile.

We soldier on until the next kick in the gut.

More dreaded client team meetings, more free puffs disguised as press releases, more knockbacks.

And still, I said nothing.

Struggling to walk

This went on for weeks and weeks…and weeks.

Then, BAM!

An MS relapse.

No feeling in my legs, ridiculous tiredness, struggling to walk… again.

Of course, only a handful of people knew about it.

It wasn’t my style to talk then. I kept it all in.

The result? Double trouble.

Not only did I have to cope with an emotional unravelling, my physical body was struggling too.

Not only did I have to cope with an emotional unravelling, my physical body was struggling too.

Something had to change.

Firstly, me, the natural introvert, had to open up.

It was time to get emotionally naked.

I talked and talked and talked.

I sat in silence.

I also shouted, screamed, sobbed and swore.

A lot.

My wife, my love, my total rock sat through it all.

There aren’t enough words in the Oxford English to convey my gratitude for her love and holding throughout. Then and to this day. X8 Taz Thornton.

Embracing change

Changes were coming and I was totally owning them.

My first job was to sack off my two biggest paying clients.

Nice money. Not so nice a fit. Square client. Round me. (Emotional eating at that time made sure of that!)

It was time to ditch the askholes.

You’ll have met some askholes of your own, I’m sure — clients who ask for your expert opinion, don’t take your advice and then moan when they don’t get the publicity they want.

You’ll have met some askholes of your own, I’m sure - clients who ask for your expert opinion, don’t take your advice and then moan when they don’t get the publicity they want.

Tick.

Goodbye healthy bank balance.

A scary moment, but a necessary one. Nothing is worth risking your mental and physical health for.

Second job: work out what I actually want.

This took a bit longer.

It’s always easier to work out what you don’t want. At least, it was for me.

My new business and life plan

Finally, after hours of discussion, the drawing of enough mind maps to cover the walls of Canary Wharf, and heated debates in countless coffee shops with my nearest and dearest, I came to this conclusion:

I wanted to:

• Work with organisations and causes I truly believed in and who were a natural fit for me and my business, ones where my expertise was valued, welcomed and my advice acted upon
• Help small businesses and solopreneurs take control of their marketing and teach them how to create their own engaging, powerful content to attract sales and positive media attention
• Be more ME. Quirky, fun loving but experienced ME. A me that could turn business people into incredible storytellers and, with that new skillset, attract the customers, sales leads and positive media attention they richly deserved.

I was excited at this prospect.

And guess what? When I started to put these new plans into action, I began to love my work again.

I kept on just a handful of PR clients who were (and are) a joy to work with, and with values aligned to my own.

I fell back in love with creating content.

I’d never truly fallen out of love with it. It was just that I’d allowed my low self-esteem and lack of direction to block my creativity and passion for writing.

Today, I’m still rebuilding.

Turning the tables

After more than 30 years telling other people’s stories and promoting them, happily taking a back seat behind their brands, products and services, now the spotlight’s on me.

And that’s a bit weird.

A good weird, but outside my comfort zone.

Still a journo

I’m still a journalist.

I may not be typing away in a newsroom, surrounded by sweary news and sub-editors (my training ground), with steam coming off the keyboard two minutes from deadline, but I’m still of that world.

I may not be typing away in a newsroom, surrounded by sweary news and sub-editors (my training ground), with steam coming off the keyboard two minutes from deadline, but I’m still of that world.

To quote a pop idol of mine, I was born this way.

It always has and always will be about the story.

Good storytelling hits us in the feels and that’s powerful.

I teach my clients how to master the art so they can tell their stories powerfully and effectively.

It works. I know it works.

I tell the client it works.

And that’s my happy ever after.

PS: My health’s great too and I’m walking again! Happiness is a powerful healer.