Slogan: “O cmon guys this is my story”
This is the story of me, my writing, my style and the last ten years I’ve spent writing, choosing the right words, listing phrases and possible variables for a text, and creating a good story to tell, like in one of those TV commercials that only in the last 5 seconds do you realize what they’re really talking about. Here is to you the big stage of my personality. Welcome to my world
I wish I could say that writing leads to great results immediately and that it is one of those sweet paths that do not bring stress to themselves, but in one of my old articles I speak of real honesty so to be honest in the last ten years I have acquired a lot of stress, and an incessant tide of NO moments that I have catalogued in my mind and that as little Tics follow twirling on themselves reminding me how hard I have worked and how many ugly days I have swallowed in recent years. But I’m proud of it because the feeling I have with me is that I survived a 10-year shipwreck.
I started by writing almost for fun by listening to the power of words and listening to the strength of the keystrokes and the quick scrolling of the letters on the monitor. I realized that was an otre of hope for a kind of person like me, I could put into practice the thousands of ideas that traveled at the speed of light, and so I did. As a lone traveler I discovered the difficulties, and injustices of a consumerist world and a fervent globalization.
This irritated me because I always believed in the choice of the perfect words for the correct customization of the texts, and not in the copying and pasting of slogans already tested. As a child, I hated the titles for the written tasks that teachers gave us, and I was the kind of kid who added a subtitle to make his theme much more personal.
Prenatal S.p.a. Story of a beginning
One of my first assignments was to write an entire marketing campaign for Prenatal. I was a shop manager for just over two years and I felt that I could give more, I could use my skills to pull worlds out of my mind and make them real. it took me 3 months to prepare all the presentation material, schematics, studies and research that instructed those who knew nothing about my idea. I felt alive to have created something out of nothing, to have started from a blank sheet until I arrived at 58 pages A4 of pure ideas to relaunch my company in its sector. But life took a hard hit, the marketing office said it wasn’t my responsibility to set up an entire marketing campaign (and maybe they were right) and they said it was too expensive and for some time the company hadn’t sailed in gold. I still managed to get into the marketing office as a Copywriter, a function that fit me perfectly. In three months we took a third of my idea and put it into practice by relocating it and keeping costs low. I was happy to join with a team that knew more about it than I did and was happy to learn things that no one teaches you during a brain storming, such as that nine times out of ten it’s better to shut your mouth and that certain ideas are valid only between the walls of your mind. The marketing campaign had a slogan “Forever Mom forever Young”, rereading it today I feel that something is still missing, that is not as intuitive as maybe in those months of intense writing seemed to be, but the passing time is the best test for a sentence or a text. I had some very good references when I decided to focus my career entirely on writing, and I left behind great minds, colleagues who wanted to write and design ideas, it was the first team I worked with and I will never forget it.
GEDI Group. “Write Write Write!!!”
I remember perfectly the face of my editor, the thick glasses mounted on a square, hard face, and his big-workwear, a dirty, heavy talk that changed in a disjointed way when investors showed up at the office. In the morning he showed up with a considerable delay and yelled at us from behind his desk “Write Write Write!!!”. We hunched over our desks like mice, we were typing thirty newspaper articles a day, ten reviews, and fifteen monologues on various topics. We were typewriters with firm minds on the keyboard. At about six o’clock in the evening we would go to his office, the smell of tobacco was sticking out of our noses, we would bring ideas on paper and our editor would choose in five minutes what would appear on one of the geDI sites. No signatures or names under the items, cash payment for every ten thousand words and silence on all desks after nine in the morning, forbidden to copy or plagiarize. punishment the radiation from any existing newspaper.
What have I learned? The typing speed, the importance of fluid and inexpensive arguments, and the details. The latter saved my soul as a writer by leading me to get my own style. I miss those maybe damn times when if you didn’t end up on your boss’ desk you felt like a rag and the mockery from colleagues was a mixture of exasperation and camaraderie that even on Wall Street don’t know what it is. it was my golden age, I learned the value of time and the determination you have to have when you have a hundred ideas of one is good.
SATO EDITIONS. And came the day of the publication
I managed with a certain predominance of words to involve a friend who had a very small literary production house. I said explicitly "I want to be published, I deserve it." He looked at me darkly and told me that he could give me a chance if I had written his wedding promises, the pact was that if his wife had cried out for happiness and emotion in front of his two hundred guests I would have had the book published with a circulation of a thousand copies.
His wife cried, the guests cried, the priest cried and any human being who was in that church cried for the intensity of the words I had chosen. The truth was that I had stalked their facebook profiles and I had used moments of personal life by disguising them with words that would remind them of the latest love events of their life, in addition I had added a personal piece that I had written to my wife and that I felt to reuse to get the publication.
Karma wanted me to get the publication but only in Epub format and distributed on the major book purchase sites, I was still happy, after all I was an unknown writer and I needed a stage, albeit a small one. I sold nearly eight hundred copies but was severely criticized for my way of writing, my friend then closed the literary production house and I closed with the world of literature. Why? Because a romantic relationship sometimes needs a break to understand what is wrong and what is great. Literature has given me so much, so many ideas and so many ideas for writing, it has influenced
An end that isn’t really. Malta and Gozo.
Since 2017 I live in Gozo, I moved to challenge myself in the use of the English language but also in the search for a job as a writer, or copywriter. I feel like I want to belong to a form of writing and creativity that can belong to a vast globe of people and this using the English language. As my first job in Malta I found a job at MaltaPost.For the first year I was a postman and I have to say that the optics of working every day with people’s mail in my hand changed my ideas about people at home waiting for personal news from the bank, the hospital or the brother/sister who lives in Australia or Canada. I stopped writing for a year and devoted myself to listening. Never before in this last year have I listened to others, I have turned my ears towards a new culture, a new language and a type of society virtually unknown to Europe. But I feel that time is running out with MaltaPost,I feel that something broader calls me, that my destiny is related to the tapping of my fingers on the keyboard, to the scrolling of my ideas on a bright board put over my forehead. I’m not ashamed to say that I’m looking for something more linear with my style of people, I’m not ashamed to say that I’m looking for a new job despite getting the permanent contract. And you know why? Because I would trade a well-paid job with the ability to write night and day and be recognized as a writer by the world scene. I’d give myself a thousand words that are really worth writing. It’s never really an end.
In this little story there is a part of my resume, there are memories related to characters to which unfortunately I have not given a name for respect for privacy, there are the important parts of my life, those that have characterized the warm blood of a writer running through my veins and the glowing magma of fantasy that gushes from my head. Take it as a personal story made of intentions and events that happened, distinguishing its sympathetic traits from serious ones like a black mantle that tastes of ink and hope, and a great desire to write.