gra-dult-hood n.

1. A stage in life between graduation and adulthood.
2. Gradulthood often involves jobs that don't fulfil a graduate's expectations.
3. A term coined during the recession.

A gradult puts a fresh coat on his 'About' section

Concrete jungle where dreams are made Joe?

I’m the co-founder of Gradulthood. Where the name originated from is still a slightly murky topic of conversation. Intellectual property is a tricky one. What I will say is: John Lennon wasn’t the first person to write the word ‘imagine’, but he was the one who wrote the song.

My last prologue noted that I was looking forward to ‘sampling the life of a copywriter’, courtesy of two weeks work experience. Well, almost six months later, I’m still here.

Back then, my knowledge of copywriting was limited to three books ordered from Amazon and whatever Google threw my way. Now I’ve worked on projects for some of the biggest companies in the world and watched three series of Mad Men. Not only has my writing improved but I’m convinced I can pull off a side parting.

Sunlight is for the plants

I work alongside one of London’s most respected copywriters, shamelessly piggybacking on his enviable portfolio of clients. It’s something of a protégé, mentor relationship and without a doubt gives me more hands-on experience than any junior position within a company or an agency. My desk may well be a fold-down number in a hallway (did I not mention that?), facing the wall, but the pros have the cons well and truly on the ropes.

That’s not to say there haven’t been trying times. The malevolent wink of a blank page is something all writers must face up to, a feat made easier by experience. Being creative on cue is another skill only gleaned from the glow of successful projects. Thankfully I’m learning my trade in an environment where much of this pressure is deflected from me.

The self-congratulation escalates

The updated prologue also outlined my desire to fly the nest again, well, with the risk of sounding conceited (that horse bolted in line two), another mission completed. I’ve wanted to live in London ever since I was a kid. I’ve always been jealous of that inherent swagger people have when they feel at home in a place others find intimidating. To live in a city where people from all over the world go on holiday, to me, has always been a dream.

Julia Roberts wouldn’t be seen dead here

They say you can’t find value in London accommodation, they’re probably right, but you can still find it cheap. A Tokyo estate agent would describe my room as cosy and for the last week or so I haven’t been able to fully close my window. However, given that in the last prologue I was living at home and temping in The Money Shop call centre, these feel like champagne problems. And I’ll get round to fixing the window by winter.

Looking to the future, I’m increasingly starting to branch out to other areas of writing, which I will discuss further along the line, and I’m fully committed to the rebirth of the side parting. I also now write another blog for an Oscar nominated director, which, if you’ve really nothing better to do, you can find here.

(To read other instalments of Joe's 'Dear diary', see below. Ed)

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