I live in New York City. This means we do, basically, everything quickly — from our walking speeds to our grocery store checkouts to our expectations on how long a sushi delivery should take. If you are are a visitor and you are moving slowly, we can spot you from a block away and will avoid this sidewalk impediment all costs.

But what New Yorkers, and most modern workers, do not prioritize is creating space to allow information to process organically. When was the last time we encouraged rumination and thoughtfulness? Unfortunately, generating ideas and participating in a “need it yesterday” culture are not complementary states of existence.

I am a stickler for efficiency, deadlines, and deliverables. But, I also know that in the creative process, your first idea is, typically, not your best. It takes time to iterate and conscientiously address your challenge.

When I happened upon a letter that David Ogilvy wrote in 1955 about his “appalling” copywriting habits, I couldn’t help but admire his candor about the real, actual labor that excellent work requires:

Dear Mr. Calt:

On March 22nd you wrote to me asking for some notes on my work habits as a copywriter. They are appalling, as you are about to see:

1. I have never written an advertisement in the office. Too many interruptions. I do all my writing at home.

2. I spend a long time studying the precedents. I look at every advertisement which has appeared for competing products during the past 20 years.

3. I am helpless without research material—and the more "motivational" the better.

4. I write out a definition of the problem and a statement of the purpose which I wish the campaign to achieve. Then I go no further until the statement and its principles have been accepted by the client.

5. Before actually writing the copy, I write down every concievable fact and selling idea. Then I get them organized and relate them to research and the copy platform.

6. Then I write the headline. As a matter of fact I try to write 20 alternative headlines for every advertisement. And I never select the final headline without asking the opinion of other people in the agency. In some cases I seek the help of the research department and get them to do a split-run on a battery of headlines.

7. At this point I can no longer postpone the actual copy. So I go home and sit down at my desk. I find myself entirely without ideas. I get bad-tempered. If my wife comes into the room I growl at her. (This has gotten worse since I gave up smoking.)

8. I am terrified of producing a lousy advertisement. This causes me to throw away the first 20 attempts.

9. If all else fails, I drink half a bottle of rum and play a Handel oratorio on the gramophone. This generally produces an uncontrollable gush of copy.

10. The next morning I get up early and edit the gush.

11. Then I take the train to New York and my secretary types a draft. (I cannot type, which is very inconvenient.)

12. I am a lousy copywriter, but I am a good editor. So I go to work editing my own draft. After four or five editings, it looks good enough to show to the client. If the client changes the copy, I get angry—because I took a lot of trouble writing it, and what I wrote I wrote on purpose.

Altogether it is a slow and laborious business. I understand that some copywriters have much greater facility.

Yours sincerely,

D.O.

My top takeaways:

• Supporting information is power: I also feel “helpless” without having access to precedence and research material. How can you solve a problem without identifying what else has been tried or why your project is here at this moment?

• Agree on the problem: Ensure everyone at your organization, and client-side, is in harmony about the actual issue and how your work will address it. This saves countless hours of wasted productivity.

• Walk away: Reading David’s struggle about actually writing gave me solace about my own process, which typically involves generating work, then putting it down and looking at it with fresh eyes the next day. It gives me the opportunity to divorce myself from what I originally produced and truly edit my copy. Tip: If you don’t have time to do this, try reading your work aloud to yourself in a monotone.

The next time you find yourself up against a deadline, take that necessary beat/walk/coffee break to contemplate the problem. And if you’re challenged by a higher-up, say you’re following David Ogilvy’s process 😉

P.S. Here’s a Handel oratorio. I wouldn’t recommend the half-bottle of rum, but maybe Ogilvy was onto something…