Thinkwell’s origin story.

Following a yes that changed everything.

By Marissa Loper

I did not set out to own my own company.

What I dreamed about was owning my own schedule … to find the elusive balance between career and home life that would allow me to feel accomplished on both sides of the coin.

About 25 years ago, a truly incredible human being offered me the opportunity to do just that. 

I’ll never forget the moment when Susan Drake looked at me and said, “You’re a talented writer. You should quit your agency job and come subcontract under me.”

My chin hit the floor. 

Really? I had only completed a small number of freelance writing projects after work and on the weekends for Susan. Plus, I had only been working at the agency long enough to earn the unimpressive title of “Junior Copywriter.”  

Susan didn’t care about my lack of experience (she assured me). She saw my potential and offered me the opportunity of a lifetime. 

This opportunity came with risks.

Susan shot straight with me. Based on her current project workload, she could only guarantee to send my way about 20 hours of work per month. There might be more than that, but she couldn’t promise it. 

So my husband Brook and I did the math. Twenty hours per month at my hourly rate would mean we Lopers would be eating a lot of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. But if I could help Susan grow her business, we realized there could be a significant upside.

Plus, the gig checked off so many of the items on my career wish list: flexibility, working from home (way back in 2001, lightyears before WFH became a mainstream option), learning from one of the most incredible writers in the business, and the opportunity to use the gifts God gave me in an environment that felt a whole lot healthier than the traditional agency experience.

We weighed the pros and cons.

Brook encouraged me to bet on myself.

So that’s what we did. 

I said yes to Susan, gave notice at my job, bought the thinkwellcreative.com URL, converted our guest bedroom into a home office and had a graphic designer friend of mine develop my first lightbulb logo.

Thinkwell was born.

For the first six years, I subcontracted under Susan. I lovingly referred to her as my “sugar mama,” and good grief, was I grateful for that sugar. Those were fantastic years. 

I learned so much from her mentorship. 

My job was to write, handle projects and take care of clients. I adored getting to do what I love … without dealing with the headaches of traditional business ownership. (Susan took care of things like invoicing, estimating and tackling problems.)

I’m also happy to report that Susan’s business boomed. She wound up sending me many more than 20 hours of work per month.

During that season, Brook and I moved to a new house with an actual office in it. Our home also included a nursery, and I had the privilege of adding motherhood to my resume.

I really was living the dream. 

I loved being a subcontractor.

Then life, as it often does, threw a curveball.

Susan needed to attend to some pressing family matters. She decided to step away from her business.

I had to make a choice: Do I carry on without her, or should I return to a more normal job?

Should I throw in the towel or pay it forward?

Spoiler: I took the leap and became a sugar mama myself.

After some soul searching and a bunch of prodding from Brook, I decided to give it a go. I moved from simply subcontracting to doing alllll the things. 

Clients hired me directly. I billed them directly. I hired and paid contractors. 

I was the boss. The actual boss. And I inherited all the responsibility and heartache that come with that elevated title.

I was full-time running a business now, which wasn’t my original goal but became my calling. I’ve long suspected this situation was God’s way of easing me into a leadership role I might otherwise have been too chicken to take on.

Over time, Thinkwell grew. I hired another writer. I hired my first graphic designer. I hired my first account person. Clients returned with more projects, and word-of-mouth helped my small business grow.

Brook joked that I chose the Chick-fil-A model.

Slow, steady, calculated growth. 

As we picked up more clients and projects, Thinkwell grew to meet the demand. 

By the time our third kiddo came along (well, I often jokingly refer to him as our fourth child since Thinkwell was our first baby), the business was rocking and rolling. 

I was juggling small business ownership and parenthood. It was sometimes fun and often exhilarating and always exhausting. At night after we put the children to bed, Brook and I would pull out our laptops to work on invoicing or catch up on bills. 

(Quick but important aside here: Brook has been my number one helper, confidant, coach, supporter, problem solver, cheerleader and all-around ROCK. Pro tip: If you are even considering starting a business, I highly encourage you to marry someone like Brook Loper first. ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ No notes.)

Thinkwell looks a lot different than it did 25 years ago.

As I type this blog, there are 19 (!) Thinkwellians on our core team who live and work all over the United States (plus one team member in Scotland, because of course). We have a long list of insanely creative partners we tap into for special projects, too.

Through trial and error, we’ve figured out a virtual filesharing and organizational system that makes working from home much easier. We use software that helps us manage projects, resources, estimates and billing. 

Post-COVID-era video calls have proven life changing, enabling us to work with customers all over the world. We also use this platform to better connect as a team.

We’ve tweaked Thinkwell’s logo two times since the OG 2001 release, and because I might be a smidge obsessed with branded swag, we have slapped the bulb on everything from hoodies to playing cards. 

We are a legit, bona fide agency with some of the very best clients who ask us to help them with the coolest projects in the whole world. 

What started as a small, selfish goal has become so much more than I ever dreamed.

I’m still pinching myself.

One thing hasn’t changed though.

My original career goal was to find a job that would allow me to use my talents AND do the things outside of work that are most important to me. I found that job, thanks to Susan. (Seriously, thank you, Susan. What. A. Gift.)

Another gift? The opportunity to pay that blessing forward. It’s a huge privilege to provide that kind of work environment for 18 other people, too.

I am so, so grateful.

As Thinkwell hits this big milestone in the life of our company, it feels like the very best way to celebrate our 25th anniversary is to attempt to express that gratitude.

Thank you…

To Brook, Bennett, Lydia and Brant: I love y’all with my whole heart. My biggest treasures here on Earth are the relationships I have with the four of you. Thank you for extending so much grace to me as I continue to juggle my responsibilities. Also, thanks for putting up with all of my “think well” puns. They never grow old (to me, anyway).

To the Thinkwellians: You are truly the kindest and most talented group of humans I have ever met. You guys could be working at the highest tier of any top agency in the world. Thank you for saying yes to this adventure and becoming part of the Thinkwell family. I can’t wait to see where your brilliance takes us next.

To our clients: Without your faith in us, we wouldn’t have made it a single year … much less 25. The best relationships in life are mutually beneficial. It’s a privilege to help your businesses grow as you’ve helped ours grow. Thank you for your trust, your partnership and your friendship.

To God: I couldn’t have imagined what you had planned for me or for Thinkwell, but you knew exactly how to push, prod and sometimes pull me kicking and screaming into this Chief Word Nerd role. I didn’t draw up any of these plays, but I’ve trusted the ultimate coach. Thank you for weaving together all the pieces of your plan to bring our merry crew of hardworking creatives to where we are today. My prayer is that we, in turn, can make you proud.

With gratitude,

Marissa