When I ask other copywriters whether their voice informs their work, the most common response is, “Voice?” I clarify that I’m speaking to how their personality is expressed through word choice, sentence structure, and tone in their copy. A personal touch that lives beyond their niche. Their next usual response is, “Oh, not really. It depends, I guess.”
It’s an obvious, objective truth in copywriting: copywriters are loyal to the brand and its best interests before all else. The intrusion of one’s own voice risks becoming a bias, even a hindrance, to the work. Although I must agree, I'm reluctant to accept that a copywriter’s voice has no place in brand writing at all.
A copywriter's voice lies in the inspiration they bring to the brand’s verbal identity. As a copywriter, developing a personal brand voice sounds paradoxical to our responsibility to embody the brand, but writing on-brand doesn’t consequentially erase the copywriter’s own voice. Like any other writer, copywriters have a voice, it just needs a place to go. I think it’s part of the copywriter’s responsibility to know their voice, so that it can strengthen their work.
I have to think about my personal brand voice just as much as I think about how to write for someone’s else’s—even when I’m not self-employed. Being an early-career copywriter in a job market where ghosting and scams run rampant (even for senior-level professionals), my voice is one of the few things that has given me confidence in my profession. And at times, it’s what gets me hired. I came to discover my voice because I couldn’t settle into any one industry niche. Whether I’m writing social impact, beauty, or experiential copy, the brand writing process is where I’ve found my voice.
My voice draws from my nosey tendencies—people-watching and eavesdropping—so my writing can meet people where they are. I study the creativity and forward-thinking of print ads from the 70s to 90s editions of Ebony and Jet. I draw from the playfulness in the short, clever sentences of children’s books that I feel adults could use more of in their day-to-day. Whether my voice echoes past the process to the final draft is not as important. What is important is for me to more deeply understand and communicate my strengths in the work using my voice.
Like all creative work, we must learn the rules in order to break them. Maybe part of being a copywriter is to listen to the audience and mimic what resonates, but another part is to stay ahead and find small ways for brands to stand out and play with their voice. Whether it’s through funky punctuation (shout out to Graza), purposely misspelled words (Chick-fil-A’s cow mascot, anyone?), or longform writing in a short form world (thanks to Oatly). Even as early-career and newly-minted copywriters, I strongly believe there are ways we can use our voices to push the margins of a brand’s present verbal identity, even just slightly.
Natalie Doggett is a freelance (aspiring full-time) copywriter and the writer behind sky mind on Substack. Sneak a peek at her work here.
When I ask other copywriters whether their voice informs their work, the most common response is, “Voice?” I clarify that I’m speaking to how their personality is expressed through word choice, sentence structure, and tone in their copy. A personal touch that lives beyond their niche. Their next usual response is, “Oh, not really. It depends, I guess.”
It’s an obvious, objective truth in copywriting: copywriters are loyal to the brand and its best interests before all else. The intrusion of one’s own voice risks becoming a bias, even a hindrance, to the work. Although I must agree, I'm reluctant to accept that a copywriter’s voice has no place in brand writing at all.
A copywriter's voice lies in the inspiration they bring to the brand’s verbal identity. As a copywriter, developing a personal brand voice sounds paradoxical to our responsibility to embody the brand, but writing on-brand doesn’t consequentially erase the copywriter’s own voice. Like any other writer, copywriters have a voice, it just needs a place to go. I think it’s part of the copywriter’s responsibility to know their voice, so that it can strengthen their work.
I have to think about my personal brand voice just as much as I think about how to write for someone’s else’s—even when I’m not self-employed. Being an early-career copywriter in a job market where ghosting and scams run rampant (even for senior-level professionals), my voice is one of the few things that has given me confidence in my profession. And at times, it’s what gets me hired. I came to discover my voice because I couldn’t settle into any one industry niche. Whether I’m writing social impact, beauty, or experiential copy, the brand writing process is where I’ve found my voice.
My voice draws from my nosey tendencies—people-watching and eavesdropping—so my writing can meet people where they are. I study the creativity and forward-thinking of print ads from the 70s to 90s editions of Ebony and Jet. I draw from the playfulness in the short, clever sentences of children’s books that I feel adults could use more of in their day-to-day. Whether my voice echoes past the process to the final draft is not as important. What is important is for me to more deeply understand and communicate my strengths in the work using my voice.
Like all creative work, we must learn the rules in order to break them. Maybe part of being a copywriter is to listen to the audience and mimic what resonates, but another part is to stay ahead and find small ways for brands to stand out and play with their voice. Whether it’s through funky punctuation (shout out to Graza), purposely misspelled words (Chick-fil-A’s cow mascot, anyone?), or longform writing in a short form world (thanks to Oatly). Even as early-career and newly-minted copywriters, I strongly believe there are ways we can use our voices to push the margins of a brand’s present verbal identity, even just slightly.
Natalie Doggett is a freelance (aspiring full-time) copywriter and the writer behind sky mind on Substack. Sneak a peek at her work here.
