From Stock Image to Storyteller
(An unauthorized remake of a book nobody reads anymore)
Confession 1: I Looked the Part Before I Knew the Lines
Long before I had a voice, I had the uniform.
Stock glasses. Stock smirk. Stock “creative” headshot—shot against a brick wall, obviously.
I looked like I had ideas.
I didn’t.
But I could quote Ogilvy.
And in this industry, that’s halfway to thought leadership.
Confession 2: I Didn’t Know What I Was Doing. So I Made a Deck About It.
My early ideas were… bad.
Like “rebrand almonds for Gen Z” bad.
But I learned that confidence matters more than craft.
So I made slides. Lots of slides.
Slides with arrows.
Slides with purpose statements that made people cry (or at least blink slowly).
Every time I felt lost, I’d write “insight-led, culturally resonant, emotionally compelling.”
No one ever asked what it meant.
Confession 3: I Wasn’t Breaking Molds—I Was Downloading Templates
Every “brave” campaign I pitched had three references from the same Cannes shortlist.
Every “original” strategy had the same three buzzwords.
I thought I was shaping culture.
Turns out, I was recycling decks from 2017 with slightly newer fonts.
And still, I got promoted.
Because in advertising, you either stand out—or stand in the right room long enough to blend in strategically.
Confession 4: The Real Turning Point (Was a Google Drive Folder)
It wasn’t a burn out.
It wasn’t a post by David Trott.
It wasn’t a shooting in South Africa.
It was opening a folder titled “Final_Final_V37_FORREAL_THISONE.pptx”
Inside: 46 decks. Same case studies. Same fonts. Same “bold” ideas.
It hit me:
I wasn’t storytelling.
I was stock-piling.
A human Pinterest board of recycled cleverness.
Confession 5: I Found My Voice When I Lost My Pitch
One day, the client didn’t bite.
Not because the idea was too risky.
Because it was exactly like the last three they’d seen.
The silence that followed wasn’t defeat.
It was relief.
Confession 6: I Still Look Like a Stock Image. But Now I Write My Own prompts in Chat GTP.
Let’s be honest:
I’m still The Average Adman.
I still wear black.
Still quote Droga (ironically now).
Still get excited about ad campaigns that make no sense but look great on Instagram.
But something changed:
Now I know it’s a costume.
Now I say the quiet parts out loud.
Now I make fun of the system—from inside it.
Because the truth is:
Every creative wants to stand out.
But the boldest thing you can do in this industry?
Embrace your averageness.
And say it out loud.
And just like this, there’s the link to the store.
