What drives you?

When I left university, armed with a degree in Politics, I had no idea what I wanted to do – apart from come to London and play in a band.

I was, by my early 20s, a pretty good guitar player, which was a shame, because the world was suddenly going keyboard.

I applied for dozens of dull-sounding jobs and eventually got one that I had no memory of applying for.  I didn’t care how dull it was – it got this country boy to London.

Two years later, my Britpop career had, predictably, not taken off and I was still stuck in the same job – now hating every dull moment of it.

“Why don’t try copywriting?”  Suggested a friend who worked as a planner at JWT, “I’m told it’s the next best thing to rock and roll.”

Never heard of it. Never considered it. Never it even thought that someone actually got paid for writing the ads that, I suddenly realised, were everywhere.

I got names and addresses and started applying.  And got nowhere.

“Have you considered the civil service?” Asked my mother. Oh my god!

“Maybe you’re just not really creative enough.”  Offered another friend, seeing my disappointment at yet another rejection.

Ouch! That hurt. That really hurt.  I was surprised how furious I was that he could doubt me.  I would show him. I would show all of them. I am creative - goddamit!

Spurred on by fury and the need for revenge, I redoubled my efforts and got a job as a trainee copywriter at Ogilvy.

“See!?” I said to my doubting friend, years later, when I had just become a creative director.

“See what?”  He asked, slightly mystified.

“You thought I couldn’t do this!”

He claimed he had no memory of ever saying such a thing.

Is it possible that my entire career as a copywriter and later as a screenwriter has been fuelled by revenge?  Well, embarrassingly, yes.

But I also think you need a strong emotion to power you the through the daunting levels of rejection and self-doubt that a creative career entails.

It’s not enough that I should succeed, others must eat their words!