A personal take on life at Livingston Communication, Inc.
As a kid, I thought watching the super bowl just for the commercials was normal. We’d fill the coffee table in front of the TV with snacks and pizza and then unmute the game in time to catch features from one of the biggest advertising nights on American TV.
After a good commercial aired, my dad would have questions for my brother, sister, and me: What about the commercial made you want the product? Was it the pictures? The story? How did they communicate to you in a new way? What was the commercial telling you without actually stating it aloud? Little did we know he was teaching us to think critically about the messaging we received.
My early writing education continued in other ways—with my dad pointing out interesting billboards during road trips or well-written brochures in waiting rooms. He’d encourage our storytelling and writing, and one day he brought home a model pacemaker for us to admire. He showed us how interesting everyday things could be.
When we complained about boredom, my dad would respond, “then it’s the perfect time to write an essay!” I rolled my eyes then, but now I completely agree.
So it figures that one day I would join my dad in his writing career, making Livingston Communication, Inc. a true family business.
The work we do is full of joy. We are honored to absorb what our clients love about their companies and carry their passion into our writing. Communicating our client’s vision to the world can be a puzzle, but that’s part of what makes the work rewarding.
Effective messaging is an important pillar of the modern world. And we are grateful to be a part of it. Whether our content helps people learn to operate machinery safely, develop a plan to increase equity in clinical trial enrollment, or respond helpfully to a loved one fainting, it accomplishes an important mission. Good content makes the world a better place.
Every once in a while, I look at my three kids and wonder who will join me on my writing journey when they grow older. Is it the one with the surprisingly thoughtful observations, the one who makes up musicals, or the one with the extra curly hair?
While I wait to see, I can give them the same amazing gift my dad gave me as a small child: a peek into the mind of a writer.
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