I’m a copywriter who doesn’t think in words
That’s weird, right?
Maybe to you. I wouldn’t really know, because I’ve never known any different.
I think in pictures and feelings. I have a constant stream of colourful imagery, parading through my head like a 24/7 carnival. Hence my featured image.
It may not be ‘normal’ — whatever ‘normal’ is — but it’s me and how I process the world.
It’s called hyperphantasia
Hyperphantasia is a condition where you have extremely vivid mental imagery. They say it’s rare, but it’s more common than its opposite condition, aphantasia, where you have no visual memory and can’t create images in your mind.
Now there’s something I can’t imagine.
These two opposite conditions exist on what’s known as the aphantasia-hyperphantasia spectrum.
The aphantasia test
You can get an idea of where you sit on the aphantasia-hyperphantasia spectrum by taking an aphantasia test.
This test asks you to imagine something everyone is familiar with: an apple.
Not everyone imagines an apple in the same way. People with hyperphantasia can imagine it in full colour, with texture and photographic detail (1). People with aphantasia can’t imagine it at all (5). With both hyperphantasia and aphantasia being described as rare, it figures that most people sit somewhere in the middle.
How did I realise I had hyperphantasia?
It all started when I was reading this article about people who have no inner monologue. That’s a condition, too. The scientists are calling it anendophasia.
I’d heard people mention their inner monologue before. And I’d just assumed I had one, because why wouldn’t I? But it was only after reading the article, I actually started ‘listening’ for it and realised it wasn’t there.
Understanding my thoughts weren’t vocal made me think consciously about how I was thinking. Have you ever tried that? It messes with your mind for a while, but it helps you understand yourself better.
I digress.
Other people have described their inner monologue as the thing that narrates their life. Like a constant voiceover they can’t switch off. Sometimes, like a bully that constantly berates and demeans them.
My head is completely silent.
If I want to hear my thoughts I have to say them out loud, which explains why I talk to myself so much. Have to say, I’m a little relieved about that.
But the visuals play constantly. When I think it’s time for bed, I see my bed and I can describe it in detail. When other people describe objects or happenings, my brain responds by creating a visual. When I berate myself — because I don’t get a free pass on that — I see a cartoon cat, repeatedly bashing me over the head with a saucepan, Tom and Jerry style.
How does hyperphantasia affect my writing?
To explain this, we’re going to have to fire up the DeLorean and go back to the 80s. So fasten your seatbelt.
From sensory stories to metaphors with meaning
I’ve always had a vivid imagination.
As a child, I’d read books and they’d play like movies in my head. I was drawn to the descriptions and my mind brought them to life. I wrote my own stories, too, and had dreams of becoming a writer.
At high school, my essays were filled with imagery, even when there was no call for it. I’d use visual metaphors in my explanations and reasoning. I now realise that was my thought process. I was writing out the images in my head.
My teachers always praised my writing and graded it highly. They never said my style was odd or unusual.
Until I started my A’ Levels.
My writing wasn’t academic
My first A’ Level English assignment came back ungraded.
My teacher took me to one side. He told me the ideas were there, but my writing was ‘inappropriate’ for A’ Level and it needed to be more ‘academic’.
I didn’t understand what that meant. Even when he explained it to me for the third time.
Deflated and confused, I took my ungraded essay home to rewrite it in a more academic style.
I still remember sitting in my box-room bedroom at my too-small desk. Bic biro in hand. Paralysed.
No words came. My vibrant mind had gone black. Like someone turned the lights off.
I fell out of love with writing
Image created by ChatGPT
When my English teacher said academic, he should have said boring and safe. I’d have understood that.
The books on the reading list were dull. The lessons, where we painstakingly picked them apart, were tedious. The essays I wrote about them were formulaic, flat and colourless.
I passed English A’ Level, but it broke my spirit, destroyed my love of reading books, and killed my dream of writing fiction.
I lost my writing voice
I talk a lot about brand voice and how your copy should sound. And my clients are always delighted when their new copy sounds just like them.
But what about my own voice? Did it sound like me?
Apparently, it didn’t.
A few years ago I found myself working with another copywriter. To beta test one of her own services, she offered me a critique of my LinkedIn profile and I was interested to see what she thought.
That critique was a wake-up call.
She said my profile was sterile and she couldn’t find any trace of me in it. That it was all tell and no show. I’d said I was visual thinker, but I hadn’t demonstrated that. I’d said I had a dark sense of humour, but I hadn’t expressed it. I’d said I was full of ideas, but my copy said otherwise.
Damn.
I’d made myself vanilla
As a copywriter, I’d made myself small. There was some logic to that. I’d thought if I showed too much personality, prospects wouldn’t see me as the chameleon I was and someone who could write in their voice.
So I’d presented myself as a blank canvas, to be painted with their vision. A bowl of plain vanilla ice-cream, to be adorned with their sauces and sprinkles. But, in doing so, my own writing sounded like it was trying to impress my A’ Level English teacher. Ugh.
I needed to find a way to bring back the old me — the real me — and be proud of what made me different.
I rewrote everything
Over the next year, with reckless abandon, I tore everything down — from my LinkedIn profile to my website and blog.
And I rewrote them all, to show my true voice and my unique way of thinking.
And then something marvelous happened
I noticed people started reading — I mean really reading — what I’d written.
Some would repeat it back to me, almost verbatim.
Some wrote just to compliment me on a blog they’d enjoyed.
Some told me they’d lost hours reading my website.
Some said they’d decided they wanted to work with me before we even met.
My blog started being featured on ‘top copywriting blog’ lists.
I guess that’s the power of authenticity and of being your true self.
Are you selling yourself short?
In so many areas of life, we shrink ourselves to make us more acceptable to others.
Removing the personality from your writing. Dressing down to avoid standing out. Downplaying your achievements, so as not to seem boastful. Over-adapting to fit the crowd you’re mixing with.
Accepting less than you deserve.
Yeah, sod that.
We need to rewrite the ‘rulebook’
Because it’s cool to be different. And when you embrace your differences, you start attracting the right kind of people. The right kind of clients and customers.
People who ‘get’ you and appreciate what you have to offer.
And that counts for a lot.
Showing some personality gets people reading
I always say people naturally skim-read on the internet. I know I do. It’s partly because so much of what’s published online is booor-ing and that’s only becoming more prevalent.
In today’s ever-evolving digital landscape… the internet is awash with AI slop. IYKYK.
I say ‘slop’ because AI relies on human input and most of the people who use it to write their content have no imagination and no idea how to prompt it.
All AI and no human makes Jack a dull boy.
And leaves his readers comatose.
Truth is, if you want people to read more of what you have to say, you need to make it worth reading. Not just facts and value, but the kind of addictive, scroll-stopping copy that makes people want to read it.
Are you ready to find your voice?
Maybe I can help you.
I’m Jenny and I create standout copy for brands that want to embrace their differences and get noticed online.
If that’s you and you’d like to find out more…
Visit my main website to see where I can help >>
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See the work I’ve done for other clients >>
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