By Andrew Boulton

Looking back at the archives of this column, you’d be forgiven for thinking I’d sooner be jimmying the barnacles off a narwhal’s anus than working as a copywriter.

The truth is that I adore my job, in the way dead-eyed men in wax jackets and sensible slacks adore their repulsive children.

But, when I am asked for advice on joining the industry, I cannot help but be realistic about its hazards – in the way that an airborne cow cannot help but be realistic about the impacts of a tornado.

So, without wishing to further reinforce my standing as an inky Read full story ›

Source: The Drum