How to Get the Hell Out of Advertising

For as long as I can remember, I always had this pie-in-the-sky idea that I would retire at 40. I am really not sure why. Perhaps, deep inside, I knew that a career in advertising wouldn’t always fulfil me.

Or maybe it was because I secretly knew that inside me dwelt a lazy person who knew she couldn’t keep going at such a pace forever. Whatever the reason, the thought was planted and every now and again it would come and niggle at me.

Then, aged 58, my Mum sadly passed away and my niggling thought became an irrepressible scream. “What if you die young too?” it cried, “Is this really what you want to be doing for the rest of those precious days?”

I knew I had to force a change in my life and do something. And, in the end, I did two things, I got pregnant and I wrote a book.
I knew the first would lead to a child, the other had a less clear outcome.

Encouraged by my husband, I took the plunge and sent my manuscript to a number of agents and publishers. Over the course of six months, I sporadically, received letters of rejection (the publishing industry is glacially slow at everything – even rejecting you).

But then, just as all hope was fading, an agent emailed telling me he liked my book. He thought there was something in it. If I was prepared to make some changes (hell yeah! I was used to changing everything on a daily basis for my clients) he thought, just maybe, he could sell it to a publisher.

When I returned from my maternity leave I was a published author with a four book deal. I was also on the cusp of turning 40. The voice in my head was now a howling banshee. But I was torn. I had a wonderful creative partner, Ben (Tollett) – my day husband for 15 years. I worked at the best agency in London, with some of the greatest minds in the industry. And I couldn’t lightly gloss over the fact that I was earning more money in one month, than I would earn in a year as an author.

The thought of leaving was scary. But the thought of not leaving was even more frightening. I simply couldn’t live the rest of my life, sitting at my desk, wondering, ‘what would have happened if I had followed my heart not my head?’.

So I took Ben out to lunch and told him I was going to leave – a conversation that felt as painful as ending a marriage. Then I booked a meeting room and prepared myself to tell the partners – Ben (Priest), James (Murphy), David (Golding) and Jon (Forsyth).

I rehearsed my speech over and over. I wanted them to know what a pleasure it had been to work with them, how sad I was to be leaving, and how I would be forever grateful for the opportunities they had afforded me.

Finally, my big moment came. I took a deep breath, looked around the room, blurted out, “I’m sorry, I just can’t go on!’ and promptly burst into tears. Oh, the best laid plans. The partners, thankfully, where extremely understanding and hugely supportive.

We mutually agreed a leave date and, one month before I turned 40, I quietly walked out through the shiny, glass doors of advertising for the last time.

It turns out my idea of ‘retirement’ was a total load of old balls. I don’t have the ability, nor the want, to step back from work. I simply swapped my hard-working advertising life for a hard-working authoring/child-rearing one.

I have, in the year since I left, written and illustrated two books, built my own website and created an online shop, where I sell handmade merchandise featuring the characters from my books. Oh, and just for good measure, I went and had another baby.

I haven’t allowed myself a moment to wonder what I have done. I just keep on doing the stuff my heart tells me. That way, I know that, even if I don’t make it past 58, I will rest happy knowing I lived my life the way I wanted.