My life at 'Mad Men'

This is the 10th 'First Person' the Globe has not accepted.  I think it's pretty good and have no clue why they will not publish my work.  Have a read and tell me what you think: 

'Mad Men’ at the corner of University and Dundas

I suppose it all started with Miss Anderson in grade eight.  That’s when I learned all my grammar and began to actually enjoy writing.  Miss Anderson was a tough taskmaster who regularly invited us to stand and parse a long, convoluted sentence she had written on the blackboard – usually by a wordsmith like Charles Dickens, or some such other brilliant writer.  It was murder, but it was worth it.

After graduating from university, like any other aspiring young lady, off I went to the Centre of the Universe:  Toronto.  With a degree in English – a luxury, but not really practical – I decided to focus on what I could do best, write.  With the help of a new boyfriend who worked at an ad agency, I made the rounds of art directors with ads I had re-written with my own copy.  

That didn’t go too well, until I had an interview with one director who knew someone who knew someone who was an editor at the biggest publishing company in Toronto, Maclean Hunter (MH).  Taking pity on me, he secured me an interview and to my amazement, that senior editor hired me on the spot!

Thus began my life at ‘Mad Men’ on University Avenue.  And what an adventure it was!  This being the late sixties, we young women were the first cohort of “feminism”.  We had tossed away the restrictive cloaks of ladylike, prescriptive fifties behaviour and were spreading our liberated wings to the hilt.  Or so we thought.  The years have shown that feminism wasn't all it was cracked up to be, but never mind, we were marching ahead anyway.

At that time, MH published Maclean’s, Chatelaine, Miss Chatelaine and The Financial Post – as well as scores of trade magazines.  I started out in the editorial pool, where I wrote pieces for a number of magazines, eventually graduating to penning book reviews for The Post and even a horoscope booklet for ‘Miss Chatelaine’, the latter of which sold like hotcakes!

I must confess that despite the extensive research I did for the booklet, in the end I realized that every sign seemed to have many of the same qualities as every other.  So, pushed to deadline, I simply made a lot of it up.  Oops!

While toiling in the editorial “bullpen”, as I called it, I was supervised by one of the first female columnists in the country.  Her red pen was ruthless and from her I learned how to cut unnecessary words – a skill I rarely see these days.     

Back then, there were “Don Draper’s” everywhere.  Handsome, suave, debonair, talented charmers who flirted shamelessly with every new female hire in the building.  What fun we had!  Everyone smoked all the time, everyone tippled all the time and everyone dated everyone.  As you can surmise, “#metoo” had not yet arrived.  We had a ball.  But let me be clear, we women were in charge and there was no sexual harassment whatsoever.  You either dated someone, or you didn’t.  Now such men would be labeled “male chauvinistic pigs”.  To me, they were perfect gentlemen who treated women with respect and class.

A typical suave "Don Draper" at M-H

One of my assignments was to a home goods trade magazine, which entailed going to huge conventions at places like the Royal York Hotel, where I would walk into a roomful of 500 unknown delegates.  My job was to approach these strangers, introduce myself, take out my notebook and start interviewing.  This was when I was glad my mother had taught me to “speak to a person”, as she would admonish.  Shyness was not permitted in her world of civility and politesse.  Being shy was being rude, which enabled me to get my job done without stress.

Friday’s the magazine went to press and you never missed a deadline.  The printing plant was heavily unionized and we lowly editors had to be given permission to step onto the printing floor.  This being the era of hot type, the typesetters were in charge.  If a piece didn’t fit, you had to cut from the bottom, so I learned to put the important facts up front.  Today, that has all changed and when I read a long piece, I go straight to the end to find the point.

Being able to write has given me every job I have ever had since.  Marriage, divorce and relocation found me in Ottawa, where I found assignments writing speeches for ministers of the Crown.  One job led to another, but writing was always why I got the jobs I did. 

I guess it’s natural for many of us to look back as the runway gets shorter.  What did Bruce Springsteen write?  Glory Days?  Every time I watch an episode of ‘Mad Men’, I am transported back to those heady days at MH when I was blazing new trails and paving the way for women in the workplace everywhere. 

And it all started with parsing sentences for Miss Anderson in grade eight.  What a debt of gratitude I owe her.  

Nancy Marley-Clarke

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