Play and game are not the same

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Today is October 25, the 58th anniversary of the biggest mistake in NFL history.

Now, I really don’t care about American football, or any other nation’s football, but this mistake was pretty spectacular. Let me tell you about it quickly:

The date, like I said, was October 25.

The year was 1964.

The place was San Francisco.

The teams were San Francisco 49ers and the Minnesota Vikings.

During a play, the 49ers quarterback fumbled the ball.

If you don’t know anything about American football — it’s much like any other football. Each team is trying to advance the ball towards one, and only one, end of the field. A fumble is when one team drops the ball midfield — a bad thing.

But what happened next was much worse.

Jim Marshall, a Vikings player, picked up the fumbled ball, and started running down the field.

The problem was, Marshall was running the wrong way.

He triumphantly ran all the way to the end zone, unopposed by anybody, thinking he had just scored a touchdown for his team. But in fact, he had scored a couple points for the other guys.

A 49ers player was the first to run up to Marshall and say, “Thanks Jim.” Marshall stood there frozen as his teammates stared at him in disbelief, as the opposing team’s players laughed, and as tens of thousands of 49ers fans erupted in cheers around the stadium.

I watched an interview with Marshall about the incident. It was recorded decades later.

Marshall still seemed sheepish. The memory clearly still brought him pain.

But in time, he turned his mistake into something positive. He kept playing the game, and playing well. He said fans and other players have given him a lot of respect for continuing to do his best even after such a colossal mistake.

But hold on.
​​
Colossal mistake? That still stings decades later? Football is just a game, isn’t it?

Here’s why I’m telling you about all this. One idea that’s been rattling around my skull for several years is a quote by Claude Hopkins:

“All the difference lies in a different idea of fun. The love of work can be cultivated just like the love of play.”

The “difference” Hopkins was talking about is the difference between success and failure, riches and poverty. And maybe something more. Maybe the difference between feeling good about how you spend a large part of your life, and feeling miserable.

But even though I’ve done a lot of trying, I have not yet been able to cultivate the idea that work is fun.

​​Sure, there are moments when I enjoy what I do. And sometimes I even find it hard to tear myself away from what it is I’m working on. But never, not once, in the 7+ years of working as a copywriter and marketer, have I woken up in the morning and jumped out of bed because I was so eager to open up my laptop and start working.

Maybe like Hopkins says, this can be cultivated. It certainly seems worthwhile.

And that’s why I’ve been thinking and collecting ideas about what work really is, and what play is, and how the two are different.

​​That’s why I was interested in the Jim Marshall story above. It shines a bit of a light on how consequential and work-like mere games can become, and how perhaps a game is something different from the play that Hopkins was talking about.

I’m not sure if this is of any use to you. It probably isn’t, not unless you’re like me, and you have to force yourself to work each day.

if that’s how you are, well—

You might get some more ideas about how to make your work more play-like, and how to get to riches and success, in other emails and essays that I write. In case you would like to read those as they come out, sign up to my daily email newsletter.

Copywriting is a crazy business, but it’s not unlike any other business

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A few weeks ago, a reader named Ferdinand wrote me to say he has written a book, but he is afraid to advertise it because he’s not sure it’s any good. Would I be kind and selfless enough to take a look and tell him if it’s ok to put out?

I was kind and selfless enough to respond to Ferdinand, saying that I charge people a great deal of money to review copy and content — but good on him for trying.

That was a mistake.

Because yesterday, I got a second email from Ferdinand. He said he didn’t get the precise response he was looking for with regard to the book. And that’s okay. But he still wants to bother me a little bit.

Would I give him a job? Any kind of a job? The pay doesn’t matter, as long as it’s consistent. He knows he can do more than what he’s currently doing, and copywriting is his dream, and he wants to chase it…

This reminded me of a scene in the King of Comedy.

Robert De Niro plays a wannabe standup comedian. He’s a big fan of a late-night talk show host played by Jerry Lewis.

One night, as Jerry is leaving the studio and getting into a cab, De Niro pushes his way through the crowd and jumps into the cab with Jerry.

Jerry is startled, even frightened. But De Niro reassures him. He just needs to talk for a minute. Right now, he’s working in “communications” but by nature he’s a comedian. His stuff is dynamite, it’s his dream, he just needs a break…

Once Jerry’s heart rate comes down a bit from the scare, he gives De Niro some practical advice:

“Look pal, gotta tell you… This is a crazy business, but it’s not unlike any other business. There are ground rules. And you don’t just walk on to a network show without experience. Now I know it’s an old, hackneyed expression but it happens to be the truth. You’ve got to start at the bottom.”

No?

You don’t like that old, hackneyed expression?

You want something a little more “hustle culture”-y, a little more Tim Ferriss-y? Ok, try this on and see if it fits:

In my experience in the direct response industry, it’s always a lousy idea to ask for a job. Even if you’re starting at the bottom. It’s much better to put yourself in a position where people ask you to work with them. In the words of Claude Hopkins, offer a privilege, not an inducement.

Are you still with me? That’s surprising. But in that case, you might get value from other emails and essays I write. In case you want to read them, you can sign up to my daily email newsletter.

Have we reached “peak storytelling”?

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This week’s New Yorker features a cartoon of a puzzled couple in front of an apartment door.

​​The man is holding a bottle of wine, so the couple are probably guests coming for a party. But they are hesitating, because the welcome mat in front of the door doesn’t say “Welcome”. Instead, it says,

“Welcome?”

This cartoon connected in my mind to a “law” I found out about a few day’s ago, Betteridge’s law, which states:

“If a headline asks a yes or no question, the answer is always no.”

Ian Betteridge is a technology journalist. And his argument was, if the answer to that yes/no question were yes, the writer would definitely tell you so, right away, as a matter of shocking fact.

Instead, the writer didn’t have enough proof to support his claim. But he decided to make it anyhow, as a question, in order to say something more dramatic than he could otherwise, and to suck you into reading. Like this:

“Will AI and Transhumanism Lead to the Next Evolution of Mankind, or Doom It?”

No. And no.

Betteridge’s law is an instance of the persuasion knowledge model.

​​That’s a fancy, academic term for the fact that people become aware of manipulative advertising and media techniques. And after people become aware, they also start resisting — “Don’t even bother reading this article, because the answer is sure to be no.”

That’s how in time, people become dismissive of intriguing headlines (“clickbait”), of being told something new about themselves (r/StupidInternetQuizzes/), even of effective stories (the entire TV Tropes website).

That’s not to say that curiosity, categorization, or stories no longer work or will not work as ways to persuade or influence.

But it does say that the effort and skill required to make them work today is a bit greater than it was yesterday — and it will be a bit greater still tomorrow.

And so it is with what I’ve been calling the Most Valuable Email trick.

Like stories, categorization, or curiosity, my MVE trick is based on fundamental human psychology.

​​It will continue to work forever — just how a well-told or fascinating story continues to work today, in spite of the fact that you probably have 20 story-based daily emails sitting in your inbox right now.

The thing is, if you act today, you get bonus points for using the MVE trick.

​​The day may come when the persuasion knowledge of the market becomes aware of this trick, and maybe even takes evasive measures. But today, practically nobody is aware of the MVE trick, especially in emails. As copywriter Cindy Suzuki wrote me after going through the Most Valuable Email course:

I’m looking back at your old emails with new eyes. You know that moment people get epiphanies and the entire world looks different? I’m feeling that way about your writing now. You’ve helped me unlock something I didn’t know existed. So incredible.

In case you’d like to take advantage of this opportunity while it’s still early days:

https://bejakovic.com/mve

Breaking News: I have an email surplus

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Yesterday, I was sitting on the couch trying to work.

The girl who was sitting next to me had her phone out. Suddenly, it started blaring with an English woman’s voice:

“I came into office at a time of great economic and international…”

I waited for a second, hoping that the noise would die down. The phone continued to blare:

“… instability. Families and businesses were worried about how to pay their…”

I frowned, both at the level of noise and the level of fluff. “What is this?” I asked the girl.

“It’s breaking news,” she said. “The UK’s Prime Minster just resigned.”

“Who cares?” I asked, hoping she would get the hint and turn the noise down.

“It’s breaking news!” she repeated.

I’m telling you this not to highlight how little I care for breaking news, though that’s certainly true.

I’m telling it to you to set up the fact that yesterday, when the UK’s Prime Minister resigned, was Thursday October 20.

Today, as I write this email, is Friday October 21.

And tomorrow, when this email will actually be sent out so you can read it, will be Saturday October 22.

In other words, I am a day ahead in my emails. I have an extra email written and scheduled — for the first time in something like 18 months.

The last time this happened was during my trip to Colombia in January 2021.

​​I was traveling with friends, and I was unsure that I’d have time each day to sit down and write a new email. So when I did find time to sit down, I’d write several emails at a time. By the end of that trip, I ended up with a surplus of a few days’ worth of emails.

The same thing happened this time.

​​I was traveling to London with a friend this past weekend. ​​Again, I was unsure when I might have time to sit down and write. Again, as a result of this, I wound up with an email surplus.

Which brings me to the paradoxical mathematics of email copywriting:

I find it’s often easier to write two, three, or 10 emails than to write one.

I can think of a few diff reasons why this is:

* More time spent on research…

* Less time spent on fiddling…

* And an overall tighter, clearer, faster structure for the emails in a batch of 10 than for a lone, lonely, and possibly bloated single email.

So my takeaway for you is, if you’re having a hard time writing a single email, set yourself the goal to write 10. Paradoxically, you might have an easier time of it.

And now, here’s some real breaking news:

Next week, I will be releasing my amazing Copy Riddles program for all the world to marvel at. I’m planning to throw a big and loud launch party in this newsletter, starting next Thursday and ending next Sunday. Maybe it will be a costume party, and if it is, I’ll dress up as Po the Kung Fu panda.

In case you’d like to be invited to that party, you can sign up for my daily email newsletter. Click here for the application.

Barnum, Bejakovic, and the burning ring of fire

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A fiery but true story about two men and a horse:

Back in 1866, a man named Henry Bergh established the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.

The ASPCA’s powers were such that Bergh and his minions could stop and arrest anybody they believed was mistreating an animal.

The trouble was that Bergh himself was largely an uninformed crusader, who knew little about many of the animals he was seeking to protect.

For example, he once ordered a large tank of water for a rhinoceros to swim in, despite the fact that a rhinoceros will not swim — nor will he float.

Another time, Bergh set his sights on P.T. Barnum’s circus, and specifically, an act in which Salamander the horse jumped through several rings of fire.

Bergh sent his assistant down to Barnum’s circus to investigate the rings, the horse, and P.T. Barnum himself.

Barnum, master showman that he was, sensed an opportunity.

He invited Henry Bergh’s assistant, the police, and a large crowd to the main tent of his circus.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Barnum said, “I have been catering to the public for forty-eight years, yet I am here today expecting arrest.” He went on to talk about all the animals he had owned and all the care and protection he had provided them over the years. The crowd, the police, and Bergh’s assistant sat there, arms crossed, unimpressed.

And then, Barnum had the rings of fire lit.

First, he stepped through the rings himself. He emerged unscathed and unsinged. The crowd hemmed and hawed.

Next, a troupe of Barnum’s clowns came out. They performed some antics, tumbling in and out of the fiery hoops. The crowd laughed.

Then, Salamander the horse was led to the rings. He passed through them with no signs of fear or hurt. The crowd cheered.

The end? Oh no. Barnum didn’t end his show just yet.

Because as the final act, Barnum had Henry Bergh’s assistant pass through the rings of fire. The man, a little hesitant at first, emerged unhurt and impressed.

He stated right then and there, in front of the police and the assembled crowd, that his employer, Mr. Bergh, had made a mistake.

Barnum stood in the middle of his big tent to share his big takeaway. “I love animals too well,” he said, “to ever torture them.”

My own takeaway of why I’m telling you this story should be obvious enough.

And if it’s not, might be more obvious once you go through my Most Valuable Email course.

That course features elephants and mice, wizards and strongmen — in short, high drama — and that’s just in the swipe file I give away.

The real show happens in the main tent, I mean, the core training. If you sit through that show, you will emerge on the other side, not only unscathed by the fire, but wiser and more excited than you are now, with a clear understanding of how today’s story of P.T. Barnum ties into my email writing

Whenever you’re ready,​​ step right this way:

https://bejakovic.com/mve

Bejako the email clown

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About a week ago, I sent out an email about a budding email copywriter who made me an offer I could refuse. I got the following reply to that email:

Honest feedback.

This email does not sound like your personal voice.

There’s a uniqueness in the way you phrase things and keeps me reading. I sense a difference in this email. I don’t know if this an earlier version of you.

I sat there for a moment, staring at this reply, tilting my head from side to side like a confused beagle.

What exactly was the intent behind this reply? What was I to do with this honest feedback?

I never did figure it out.

But I’ll tell you what I will not do.

I won’t go through my “budding email copywriter” email, figuring out where my tone of voice went wrong. I also won’t go through other emails, reverse-engineering what a proper Bejako email sounds like. And I certainly won’t poll my readers and say, “Please tell me what you like about my online persona, so I can give you more of what you like, and less of what you dislike.”

I recently discovered the term flanderization.

On The Simpsons, the character of Ned Flanders went from being a good neighbor, who served as a foil to Homer Simpson, to being an annoying religious fundamentalist.

​​In other words, Flanders became more and more of a one-dimensional caricature of himself over the course of the many seasons of The Simpsons.

It’s not just The Simpsons. The same thing happens with other shows and other characters, including those that people play in email newsletters like this one.

I’ve often written that I’m in it for the long game with this newsletter.

That’s why my prime directive is to make writing these emails fun and interesting for me personally.

But painting myself into a corner of what I can and cannot say — because not it wouldn’t be in line my tone of voice or online persona — well, that’s neither fun nor interesting for me. I’d rather be free to say what I want to say, when I want to say it, even if it makes me sound off-brand on certain days, and like a clown on others.

Anyways, this probably doesn’t benefit you in any way. Not unless have an online presence, or are planning to start one.

But if you are putting some aspect of yourself out there regularly, maybe my perspective on it can be helpful to you somehow.

And here’s something else that might be helpful, at least if you are interested in copywriting, marketing, and persuasion.

A repetitive exercise you can practice daily to level up as a copywriter and marketer

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This past summer, in reply to a particularly fluid and thrilling email I had written, a reader wrote in:

Very thrilling and fluid email – and you weren’t even selling anything.

I don’t do copywriting again, but I’ll handwrite this one.

I’ve hand copied copy before, including daily emails. I found it useful in that it forced me to slow down and actually read the damn thing. In this way, I spotted some things I wouldn’t have spotted otherwise.

But as I’ve written before, I never found any magic in hand-copying stuff.

​​Instead, I find that there are faster and more effective “neuroimprinting hacks” than cramping up your hand and sweating up your brow while word-for-wording other people’s stuff.

In the words of hack & tactic master Ben Settle:

I have long been convinced — and been proven correct time, and time, and time again — that simply learning, understanding, applying, and mastering the basics & fundamentals of marketing, copywriting, persuasion is probably the most powerful marketing “hack” you can ever possibly possess.

That might not sound like much of a “hack”. But if you read that quote once or twice more, and maybe give it a bit of thought, you might be able to come up with something like a hack — or at least a repetitive exercise you can practice daily to level up as a copywriter and marketer.

And if not, I got some possibly bad, possibly good news for ya:

​​Unlike in that previous fluid & thrilling email, today I am selling something. ​​It’s my Most Valuable Email course, which teaches you just what I have been preaching in this email — a repetitive exercise you can practice daily to level up as a copywriter and marketer.

In case you are interested:

https://bejakovic.com/mve

“THE GIRL WHO SEEMED TO DIE” and other effective renamings

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True story of a disgruntled employee:

Back in 1986, Disney was set to release a new movie called Basil of Baker Street, based on a book by the same name.

​​But studio execs thought the title was too cryptic, so they renamed the movie to telegraph what it’s really about. The result was The Great Mouse Detective.

This didn’t go over well with the people working on the movie.

​​Ed Gombert, an animator on Basil of Baker Street, wrote up a slightly bitter office memo, claiming Disney has decided to rename other classics in its portfolio. The new titles included:

“SEVEN LITTLE MEN HELP A GIRL”
“THE WOODEN BOY WHO BECAME REAL”
“COLOR AND MUSIC”
“THE LITTLE DEER WHO GREW UP”
“THE GIRL WITH THE SEE-THROUGH SHOES”
“THE GIRL IN THE IMAGINARY WORLD”
“THE AMAZING FLYING CHILDREN”
“TWO DOGS FALL IN LOVE”

etc etc.

The joke memo became widely circulated inside Disney. Disney CEO Jeffrey Katzenberg was not impressed. He did his best to ferret out who had written the sarcastic note, without success.

​​To make things worse, the memo eventually leaked out and resulted in an article in the LA Times. Suddenly, everybody was talking about the new Disney film, but for all the wrong reasons.

Or was it really all that wrong?

After all, The Great Mouse Detective, with its prosaic new name, went on to become a big commercial and critical hit.

It wouldn’t be the first time that’s ever happened.

​​I once read a book called The First 100 Million, by E. Haldeman-Julius, publisher of the Little Blue Books. The Little Blue Books were a phenomenon for much of the 20th century, and sold hundreds of millions of copies. Some were fiction, but mostly, they were practical how-to info about health, self-help, relationships, etc.

The most interesting chapter of The First 100 Million is about The Hospital. That’s where Haldeman-Julius took poorly selling titles and performed a radical operation — he renamed the books, including some classics. Results:

“The mystery of the iron mask” => “The mystery of the man in the iron mask”: 277% jump in sales

“Ten o’clock” => “What art should mean to you”: 450% jump in sales

“Fleece of gold” => “The quest for a blonde mistress”: 833% jump in sales

So while it’s good to be creative if you are an animator, maybe it’s not so good if you are naming a product and hoping for lots of sales.

Therefore, I would like to announce I am renaming my too-poetic Most Valuable Email course. From now on, the course will be called:

“How to use an email copywriting trick to turn ordinary and rather boring emails into something clever and cool”

I’m still reworking the sales page to account for this change and expansion in the name. But in case you’d like to get your paws on this soon-to-be classic right now, here’s where to go:

https://bejakovic.com/mve

My best Ben Settle impression

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Spanish copywriter Iván Orange, who bought my Most Valuable Email course, reports:

===

I want to take the opportunity to tell you that the day after I read MVE, I sent my list a first [MVE trick] email, using an idea from one of your swipe file emails.

That day I sold one of my courses, which made me make 5 times more the investment in MVE, so I’m looking forward to keep improving in this technique and make many more sales.

Hope you are very well John, I keep reading you.

Iván.

===

Let me do my best Ben Settle impression and say:

Not everyone gets results like this.

Before ever writing a single email using my Most Valuable Email trick, Iván built a large email list, products that people want to buy, and credibility in the industry.

For reasons that are ultimately beyond me, most people will never do the groundwork Iván has done and build up the same kinds of assets for themselves, so they too can be in a position where they can send one email and make $500 in return.

But wait.

I’m not done imitating Ben or negative striplining you.

I make lots of promises for my Most Valuable Email course. But in spite of Iván’s experience above, making 5x ROI in the first 24 hours is NOT one of those promises. Not because you cannot use my MVE trick make sales, But because it’s overkill. If all you want to do is to make quick and short-term sales, there are easier ways to do that.

On the other hand:

If you want to grow your email list… create interesting products that people want… and build up your credibility in the industry… all with an email copywriting trick you can learn in under an hour… then those are promises I do make for MVE.

Whatever the case, get your lovin’ here:

https://bejakovic.com/mve

Isla de Muerta positioning

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I recently rewatched the original Pirates of the Carribean movie, and I was reminded of the dreaded Isla de Muerta.

It’s a mystery island, maybe just a legend, where Captain Barbossa docks his ghostly Black Pearl, and where he keeps the cursed treasure of Hernan Cortes.

But don’t bother searching for Isla de Muerta on a map. Don’t make the foolish mistake of ever trying to sail to it yourself.

Only those who already know where the island is can ever find it.

That’s just like the positioning that A-list copywriter Parris Lampropoulos has.

​​I listened to Parris on a recent episode of the Chris Haddad podcast. I have stopped listening to marketing and copy podcasts. But whenever Parris makes a new public appearance, once every few decades, I make sure to listen, and probably multiple times.

Because Parris is the one person in this industry that I have learned from the most and that I have modeled the most.

I’ve learned copywriting tricks and tactics from Parris.

I’ve learned mindset and attitude and work practices.

And I’ve learned business of copy strategies.

Which brings us back to Parris’s positioning. Here’s how Parris explains his positioning, including why he gives talks so rarely:

“No website, no business card, not on social media, unlisted number, gotta know somebody who knows somebody to get to me and then maybe I’ll work with you. If I give all these talks it goes against my positioning. It looks like I’m trawling for work.”

In other words, if any ambitious business owner wants the marketing treasures hidden inside Parris’s head… well, that business owner has to have worked with Parris before, or at least know somebody who has.

This kind of positioning might seem entirely impractical to you right now.

And Parris himself admits he hasn’t had this positioning in the early days.

In fact, he kicked off his freelance career by going to Kinko’s, printing out hundreds of copies of a sales letter selling his own services, and then standing outside of a direct marketing convention, trembling with fear and handing out his sales letter to anyone who would take one. That landed him his first five clients.

Still, if you are interested in learning from the most successful people, then there’s no denying Parris is among them in the direct response industry.

And his “mystery, maybe just a legend” positioning might be worth using as a bearing to take you where you want go eventually go. The same way that Captain Jack Sparrow uses his crooked compass, which won’t point north, to track down Isla de Muerta.

Anyways, on to my Most Valuable Email offer.

Parris once, and only once, held a paid and public training. It included a bunch of super valuable bonuses, including a document titled, “A technique for improving your writing overnight.”

Parris advised his copy cubs, and anybody who paid for his training, to copy this document by hand three times.

Why?

Reason one — or so I suspect — was that the document laid out some important writing advice.

Reason two was that this document used my Most Valuable Email trick.

Like I’ve written before, I haven’t invented this trick. A few very smart and successful marketers have long used it in non-email media.

But nobody has used it in emails as often, and with such good results as I have.

If you are curious to learn this mysterious, maybe legendary trick yourself, then get out your broken compass, jam your tricorn hat onto your head, and set sail for this horizon:

https://bejakovic.com/mve