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Words, and Why We Live by Them

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Wes Brooks

Before we get into it, on the very small chance that you’ve read any of my past work for The Pine Belt News under the byline “Finding Focus,” then you know I like to include some “theme music.” Hopefully, the lyrics are apropos of our topic. For this, I’ll be listening to the single “Talk” from Coldplay’s 2005 release, X&Y. Sing along if the groove grabs you. Let’s rock and roll!

“Oh brother, I can’t, I can’t get through
I’ve been trying hard to reach you ’cause I don’t know what to do
Oh, brother, I can’t believe it’s true
I’m so scared about the future, and I wanna talk to you
Oh, I wanna talk to you”

For me, writing is personal—really personal. Whether it’s jotting thoughts in a notebook over coffee, hammering out a blog post at 2 a.m., or crafting words that will live on the face of a brand, there’s an intimacy to it that Google just can’t provide. If you think you can research your way into writing something meaningful for a brand without actually knowing the people behind it, well, as southern ladies are prone to quip, “Bless your heart.”

“You can take a picture of something you see
In the future where will I be?
You can climb a ladder up to the sun
Or write a song nobody has sung
Or do something that’s never been done”

At BREAD, I live (and die) by five core principles when writing on behalf of a brand or person. These aren’t just fancy little guidelines to make me sound important—they’re the backbone of writing that actually connects.

Research is Not Enough

Research only gives you the facts. Relationships give context and meaning. Facts may tell you what year the company started, a mission statement, and maybe even their preferred font. But can it tell you how the brand/business owner would order a soft drink? See if this resonates.

Imagine a fellow from Chicago, IL, on a road trip to the Gulf Coast. He stops in Hattiesburg, MS, for lunch. When asked what he’d like to drink, he responds, “I’ll have a Coca-Cola.” Our Hub City waiter comes right back at him with, “What kind of Coke do you want?” Can you imagine the look of utter confusion our Chicago traveler would have right about now?

“Are you lost or incomplete?
Do you feel like a puzzle, you can’t find your missing piece?
Tell me, how do you feel?
Well, I feel like they’re talking in a language I don’t speak
And they’re talking it to me”

Writing for someone else means you need to know them beyond the bullet points. Sit down with them and listen. Watch how they interact with people. How do they explain things when they’re not trying to sound official or tell you what they think you want to hear? How do they handle criticism? What do they love? What makes them roll their eyes so hard that they can probably see their frontal lobe?

Building that relationship makes your job easier. When you know a brand inside and out, the words come naturally. It stops being a guessing game and starts being a conversation. It stops being “content creation” and starts being storytelling. And that’s the real magic.

Brevity — "Be Bold, Be Brief, and BE GONE!”

I can’t directly attribute this quote to USM President Emeritus Dr. Aubrey K. Lucas. However, he was speaking the first time it resonated with me.

Brevity. This one’s hard for me because I love words. I love dissecting them, the way they flow, the rhythm, the humor, the punch. But writing for a brand isn’t about me flexing my vocabulary; it’s about getting a message across without delay and void of any filler or fluff. Nike didn’t say, “Engage in only doing what must be done.” They said, “Just Do It.” Boom. Three words. Iconic.

Be bold, be clear, and BE GONE. If nothing else, it sends the message that you appreciate the audience’s time and aren’t going to waste it.

Think about how much content you consume daily. Articles, social media posts, emails, texts—it’s constant. People don’t have time to wade through fluff. If you can say it in five words instead of fifteen, do it. Brevity isn’t about losing meaning. It’s about giving it an edge.

Be Intentional — Active Voice Always Wins

Passive voice is the sad trombone of writing. It’s the difference between “The issue was addressed” and “We fixed it.” One sounds like an accident, and the other sounds like action. And action wins. Your words should do something. Move people. Make them feel. Convince them. But that won’t happen if your sentences read like a corporate memo.
“So you take a picture of something you see
In the future where will I be?
You can climb a ladder up to the sun
Or write a song nobody has sung
Or do something that’s never been done
Or do something that’s never been done”

“Mistakes were made” is a cop-out. However, “We’ve made some errors, and this is what we’re doing to address them” is honest.

See the difference? Take ownership. Don’t let it float around like an unattended shopping cart in the parking lot.

Active voice also keeps your writing sharp and engaging. It cuts through the noise and makes your message pop. It’s the difference between a brand that sounds confident and a brand that sounds like it’s apologizing for existing.

 

Be Relatable: Know the Voice, Know the Audience

Writing isn’t about what you want to say but what they need to hear. Consider generational disparities. A brand talking to Gen-Z shouldn’t sound like a boardroom presentation. Likewise, a high-end luxury brand shouldn’t sound like it’s inviting you to a backyard barbecue.

The best way to be relatable? LISTEN. Your ears do not work if your mouth is moving. Read the comments. Scroll the brand’s social media. What do people love? What annoys them? What kind of language do they use? Then—and only then—can you write something that actually resonates.

If you sound like an outsider trying to fit in, trust me, the audience will know. And they will roast you for it. And remember, relatability isn’t about being trendy—it’s about being genuine. If a brand is playful, let it be playful. If it’s serious, lean into that. If it’s quirky, embrace the weirdness. The worst thing you can do is force a voice that doesn’t fit. Authenticity wins every time.

 

If You Write It, You Better Believe It

Nothing will sink a brand—or your credibility—faster than inauthenticity. People can smell a fake a mile away. If you don’t believe what you’re writing, why should anyone else?

This isn’t just about avoiding marketing fluff (though, please, let’s all do that too). It’s about making sure the words match the actions. If a company claims to be sustainable, that better be more than just a tagline—it better be in their packaging, their supply chain, in everything. If a brand is fun and irreverent, the writing should be, too.

And as the writer? You have to feel it. If you’re rolling your eyes while you type, scrap it and start over. Readers can tell when you don’t mean it, and once that trust is gone? It’s gone.

Belief in your words also fuels your creativity. When you believe in what you’re writing, crafting compelling narratives is easier. It’s easier to inject personality and passion. More importantly, it’s a hell of a lot easier to enjoy the process.

 

Next time you sit down to write for a brand, ask yourself:

  • Do I actually know this brand as well as I could…should?
  • Am I using only the words I need?
  • Is my writing active and direct?
  • Does this sound like the brand and speak to its audience?
  • Do I truly believe what I’m writing?

If you can answer “yes” to all five, congrats—you’re not just writing. You’re connecting, and that is where the magic happens.

“So you don’t know where you’re going and you wanna talk
And you feel like you’re going where you’ve been before
You tell anyone who’ll listen, but you feel ignored
Nothing’s really making any sense at all, let’s talk
Let’s talk, let’s talk, let’s talk”

At the end of the day, writing is about trust. First, the trust you have in yourself as a writer. Next is the trust you establish with the brand who have trusted you. And last, the trust you create between the brand and its audience. When you get that right, you’re no longer tossing Nerf balls. You’re throwing darts.

And isn’t that the whole point?