After three years, four months, two weeks and six days, Hollie Newton is hanging up her sequinned book crit gloves.

It's truly a sad day.

But don't worry, there's a bronze lining.

Instead of lovely Hollie, you will be getting us — David and Ollie.

We hereby promise to do our best to fill her sparkly boots and jazzy frocks.

Just don't expect gardening advice.

So, if you want a book crit, drop us an e-mail.

It's [email protected] and [email protected].

And we'll be seeing you and your ideas soon.

Try not to bring us a book of just ads.

We like to see other stuff too.

Bring us tapestries if you're into tapestries.

Angry letters to flatmates and noisy neighbours are always fun to read.

Even funny text messages.

Whatever floats your boat.

Whatever you're passionate about.

It matters.

These last few weeks I’ve been finished the final final touches
to a two projects that I will hopefully be able to present to clients soon.
Fingers crossed!

One aspect of the role has snagged my attention recently. Planning seems to operate at the cutting
edge of a lot of things: tech, media, digital trends and so on. As I’ve
mentioned before, this immersion in the new, in the up-and-coming, comes with a
risk of losing sight of what really matters – relevance. 

But my
experiences so far have told me that adverts are about sculpting basic human
feelings; a large part of planning is about making sure those feelings are
exactly the right for the brand.

So: part of the job pushes planners out
into the world-to-come, with all its attendant strange ideas and weird
innovations. But at the same time one is forced to remain grounded and
attentive to what people actually feel about things. Not silicon valley. Just
people.

Which gives the job a nice dynamic – trading in newness/novelty and basic-everyone-gets-it-human-ness at the same time.