We Make Lightning Strike

“A-ha!”

?There’s no moment like it for creative types. Seemingly out of nowhere, lightning strikes, an idea takes shape, and the future becomes clear. A brilliant campaign. Standing ovations from teammates. Customers hanging ads instead of art in their homes. Your parents telling their friends what you do for a living for the first time. An open invitation to the client’s summer house. Additional storage space for industry awards.

But we’re getting way ahead ourselves. This article is meant to take a closer look at that proverbial lightning strike. Spoiler alert: it’s not an epiphany, nor divine intervention. Nope, this seemingly cosmic moment is actually the product of far simpler, everyday experiences. Things we consciously do beforehand. To put a finer point on it, we creative types have the power to make lightning strike.

A theoretical might help clarify.

A creative brief comes in hot off the presses. You read the one-pager word for word. Then again. Then backwards. Then upside down (the creative brief, not you). The strategy is both clear and concise.

What now?

Getting to work might not be the answer (more on this later). You should, of course, jot down immediate thoughts. Any creative brief worth its salt will spark a handful of initial musings that shouldn’t be ignored. But parking it in front of your computer, staring at a blank canvas in Illustrator or blinking cursor in Word, will likely only yield some serious consideration of alternate career paths.

To make lightning strike, often the most effective thing you can do is to stop trying to be effective. You’ve basically memorized the creative brief. Now, focus on something else. Anything else. Coordinate as many distractions as the project timeline allows. Fear not, they’re the useful kind.?

Go for a hike.

Meditate.?

Cook a meal.

Read a book.

See a movie.

Ride the subway.

Pet your dog.?

Work out.

And so on.

This is when the excitement happens, albeit subconsciously in the form of brief synapses. With the creative brief nestled in the corner of your mind, you’ve made space for sensory stimulation. Colors of leaves on the hike. A turn of phrase in the book. Set design during the movie. Dialogue on the subway. And so on. These sensations rub against each other naturally, bump into the creative brief, create friction and when you finally get back to that dreaded blank canvas, zap! Lightning strikes.

Ain’t science fun?

There are three things worth mentioning before you literally take a hike. First, your parents are undoubtedly proud of you already. Second, the abovementioned hypothetical is linear for the sake of clarity and brevity. The most gifted creative types are constantly doing everything they can to make lightning strike whenever the time (read: next creative brief) comes. It could be something small like taking a walk around the neighborhood every morning, or something more grandiose like a long vacation in the Galápagos Islands to thumb wrestle iguanas. We should all be so proactive. Third is a slight contradiction to the point above: “Getting to work might not be the answer.” The keyword here is “might.” There’s no replacement for tenacity during the creative process. Concepting late into the night. Writing fifty headlines. Reading award annuals cover to cover. The willingness to put nose to grindstone has led to some of the greatest ideas ever. Brand-building, paradigm-shifting ideas. When it comes to making lightning strike, there’s a time and place for both. Ultimately, the goal is the same—a brilliant campaign that leaves the client and customers swooning.

Now, how about that hike?