You’d think  after 16 months of deliberately ignoring Google searches for Norfolk copywriter, I’d be nowhere on that search engine.

But despite my best efforts to ignore the search, I’m blithely sat today on the middle of page 2.

I’ve blogged before about search volumes for London copywriter and Manchester copywriter, but never Norfolk copywriter.


The searches to me appear too low to bother with this location-based search phrase.

Inadvertently, though, I’m on page 2 and now I’m there, with my uber competitive streak (not an attractive personality  quality I know) I want, I need, I yearn to see Get Pro Copy on page one.

30 searches a month globally for Norfolk U.K. and Norfolk Virginia means 360 Google searches a year I’m missing out on.

So when someone calls me from an international number, I will affect an American drawl and, with my surname, spin yarns about how the 70s Tv series was based on my father’s childhood on Walton mountain.

How tedious saying “Goodnight” was and how my grandparents would have selfishly voted for Brexit.

An 01603 or 01493 call will see me nimbly shift to a bumpkin accent with “Alright my lovely” whilst casually talking about happy childhood days in unpronounceable names to outsiders like Happisburgh, Wymondham and Burgh Castle, to prove my authenticity.

It seems though that my quest for page one status is actually pointless.

Because anyone who knows me in real or virtual life, will realise my Norfolk Virginia or Norfolk East Anglia accent and dialect attempts, are the equivalent of a PPI scam.

Instagram Live stories, YouTube uploads, a FaceTime or Skype call marks me firmly down as an extra from “Kes”, albeit slightly more refined.

Doncaster and working class roots run through me like a stick of rock despite my separation attempts by living amongst nests of Tory voters in the east and the occasional Waitrose trip, and not just for a free coffee.

But Norfolk Copywriter, as a search, got me thinking and made me realise that the God of search, Google, may be telling porkies.

You see, I now write and manage or have managed social media marketing for six Norfolk companies, three of them estate agencies, so somehow somewhere people are searching for Norfolk copywriter and finding me.

If people are searching, I need to be page one for Norfolk copywriter.

Why anyone would define a location when searching defeats me, but I think the burning desire to get a London or Manchester address and telephone number have now passed.

I’m going to embrace Norfolk copywriter and go for page one.

From now on, my LinkedIn, Facebook, Twitter, Google Plus and Instagram platforms are going all Norfolk hashtagged “I driv through snew” or “You got a loight, my boy?”

I think it will work.


Except for one thing.

I don’t like Norfolk generally.

I’ve lived here now for 9 years and don’t consider it home; never have, never will.

Before you turn up with pitchforks and lanterns to hoist me out of the county, bear with me.

I don’t like my hometown (Doncaster) where I was born and grew up, either.

So I’m not engaging in tractor bashing.

Home to us is where we felt we belonged: the Staffordshire Moorlands, the White Peak, Leek, Buxton, Ashbourne.

Two recent walking holidays have confirmed it too.

We got married there, our 16 year old son was born in Derby General, I lost my teeth in a bike accident in Stoke.

Staffordshire and Derbyshire holds so many magical memories.

So, my point is, my hashtagged appendages of all things Norfolk and Copywriter could well be a mounumental waste of time as we intend to return ‘home’.

Staffordshire copywriter.

Now that seems a productive use of time.

Bring it on, duck.