The Imaginarium of a PR Exec

I’m calling every writer I know to invite them to our event on Thursday. I pluck up the courage to call that journo who has been less than polite in the past, only to have her hang up on me mid-way through my invite. Whatever. Her loss. Who wouldn’t want to come to this? It’ll be the most amazing celebration of a new product anyone has ever heard of. Pick the list back up and hammer the phones.

This, in all its glory, in all its misery, joy, relief, elation, innovation, frustration and wonder, is a week in the life of a PR executive.

I’m on the phones after a hectic morning. In the office early, I jumped on the paper expecting some brilliant national coverage, scoured every page and- there it was. I wanted to tell everyo…. NOT SO FAST! The journo used an old image. Disaster. But all was not lost. After a short conversation with said journalist a follow-up piece was confirmed to appear next week. My phone call to the client was suddenly a lot easier.

With a happy client and the drama over, the next 30 minutes was spent ensuring that the rest of the coverage went over to all clients on time before getting stuck in to the day of calls in preparation for the event. It isn’t yet 10am.

I’m arranging restaurant reviews, monitoring social media – oh damn – I have to send that competition prize out – it’s been 10 days since we announced. It’s fine – still got 18 days to get it out. It’ll be there in plenty of time. Update the grid and post the next comp on Facebook. Fourth set of amends done to my press release and its looking great. I’m so happy with it. I know that’s the one! It’s suddenly 7pm and I’m heading to the station on the phone to my mum trying to explain why my name wasn’t next to the well-written piece with the dodgy image she read in the paper this morning.

After packing, checking and re-checking lists the next morning, the courier whisks everything off and for the next 12 hours the event is in his hands. It’ll be fine. Although – he did have a shifty look in his eye like he could arrange for the delivery to ‘conveniently’ disappear. He knows a guy that specialises in selling on stolen clipboards and easels. I’m convinced of it. The press release comes back for fifth round of amends and I’m distracted in my quest for copy-writing perfection.

I’m on the train to London. I’ve been maintaining my Olympic decathlon training especially for this day to cope with the stress, heavy lifting, running in heels and profuse sweating that is in store for the next 14 hours. We arrive and the courier’s ‘fence’ must have had too many stolen easels to shift, as they are all there waiting for me when we arrive. Massive relief.

The venue is transformed. I’m adding in a sixth set of amends to my release on my iPhone and whizzing back over to the office while prepping goodie bags. Everything’s in place, just in time for the client to arrive. Time to act as if all of this fell into place with the assistance of cute mice and bluebirds. SMILE. She loves it! And the event’s underway. Now just got to hope the journos turn up.

Four hours later and what was I worried about? Brilliant turnout, everyone is thoroughly impressed. The taste of success and feeling of tired satisfaction. Just the small task of boxing up an entire room ready for the courier tomorrow. It’s closing in on 1am.

What happens next is one of the reasons I love my team. Everyone snaps into action. Room dress items are thrown into boxes, fragile tape is being whirled around anything that will act as a container, even my director is on the floor throwing aprons into boxes and writing address labels. In half an hour we’re done, dusted and congratulating ourselves on a brilliant job.

And all of a sudden I’m back in the office. No time to rest. The end of the week is in sight. Back to my desk to find the release I’ve been working on all week back for the seventh round of amends.

But surprisingly, I’m happy. Happy because I know we’ve not just settled. We’ve challenged ourselves and tried something new and re-worked it over again. Yeah the changes didn’t work out but the result is a really great piece of work. So great that the client approves it with those magic words. “NO AMENDS”. Gold.

Now to just wrap up my weekly updates and I’m done. Oh god, the server’s just failed, the Wi-Fi’s gone down and I feel like my oxygen supply’s been cut off…

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