A Chilean advertising agency has created a campaign for a copywriter's award show that uses typewriters as the, pardon me, key visual.
As a copywriter, and a collector of typewriters, this gives me an opportunity to vent a little on the subject of just what it is that I write. I write copy. When an account person says, "I need some verbiage here," my blood boils.
The word verbiage means an excess of words. I think of it as meaning verbal garbage. The Random House dictionary defines verbiage as "overabundance or superfluity of words, as in writing or speech; wordiness; verbosity." A repetitive definition that becomes, in fact, what it is defining.
The American Heritage dictionary definition is much simpler: "An excess of words for the purpose."
Of course, some art directors think any words are an excess. And I must admit, in the class I teach on headline writing, I spend a good deal of time teaching students the value of visual headlines, or visuals that are so clever and compelling they don't need a headline. But this opinion, that any words are too many, and thus not copy, but verbiage, is something that transcends cultures, as this ad by Brother, the aforesaid agency:
The headline translates as "This copy is meant to mess with the art director who said the image works by itself."
Love it. But what really stopped me when I came across this ad tonight on Ads of the World, was the Oliver typewriter. I have an Oliver — it's unusual and gracefully swooping wings of type and its olive color make it a very distinctive machine. And built like a tank, there are still thousands of these machines around and in working order, more than 100 years after they came of the assembly line. In this ad though, you'll notice that the product is named Revilo (Oliver backwards). The Oliver name was already a registered trademark in some places, and thus the company used their name backwards to avoid paying a licensing or royalty fee.
The campaign also shows a Hammond Multiplex (these are circa 1913 or so) which as you can see below, does not use type bars, but rather a type cylinder not unlike the type ball of the IBM Selectric. The cylinder was easily replaceable, making it a popular tool for scientists and mathematicians, who use special characters and symbols. And those who write in more than one language. I also have a Hammond Multiplex (as well as a Franklin, a Corona 3, several Royals, a couple of Olivettis, an Empire, a Smith Premium #2 as well as a Remington Noiseless — and I long to add a Blickensderfer 7 in good condition to the list someday).
But to return to my bugaboo word, verbiage, for a moment. The people who use this word don't know what it means. But unconsciously, I believe, they are displaying their disrespect for the craft and for words, by using it. It's used dismissively. And I take umbrage.
On my portfolio site, there is a photo of a typewriter ribbon tin that's also part of my collection. And it uses the word that describes what I produce.
I know some snarky reader out there will no doubt say that this post is in fact an example of verbiage. The style I use on this blog, often filled with long parentheticals, isn't the way I write copy — to be a good copywriter is to take on, or create, the voice of your client. If you don't like my blog writing style, I could care less. I like having someplace to use words like bugaboo and umbrage in the same paragraph, and I enjoy readers who enjoy words in the same way I do. That's the blog. Don't like it? Click off.
My copy however, is never verbiage.