Long-form sales copy is finally dead

by

If you go on Google right now, and search for “fresh pressed olive oil,” you’ll soon find a quirky web page as the top result:

It’s the Fresh-Pressed Olive Oil Club, which mails you olive oils from around the world, right after they’ve been pressed, year round.

Here’s the interesting thing about this site for copywriters and marketers:

One of the people behind this business is Gary Bencivenga, often referred to as the “greatest living copywriter.”

Back in the 70s, 80s, 90s, and up to his retirement in 2005, Gary made his clients lots of money (hundreds of millions of dollars?) by writing long-form sales copy. His promotions sometimes spanned 50 or 60 pages.

And in fact, Gary even wrote a long-form sales letter for the Fresh-Pressed Olive Oil Club. It used to be there, right on the homepage.

But if you check the homepage of the FPOOC right now… that long-form sales letter is not what you will see any more.

Instead, what you will see is a quick and clear headline for the offer…

Some bullet points that have been pulled out from the original sales letter…

A bit about the founder of the club…

And a couple of buttons to buy.

All in about 2 pages of copy, max.

So what’s going on?

I don’t know. But my guess is that they tested this shorter home page, and it’s working better than what they had before. Here’s the lesson I draw from this:

If you start to learn about sales copywriting, you’ll quickly be told that “copy is never too long, only too boring.”

You might hear this backed up with the experience of top-level marketers and copywriters — including Gary B. — who will tell you that long copy, if done right, always outperforms short copy.

And it may be true… if you only have one shot to make the sale (ie. direct mail) or if you are selling to cold traffic.

But that’s not how many online marketing situations work today. The FPOOC and its website are a perfect example of that.

And that’s why I say long-form sales copy is finally dead.

And in case you think this is just cherry-picking and exaggeration… then I agree with you.

​​But I also think it’s no worse than saying “copy is never too long” — when it clearly can be. Even if it’s written by the great Gary Bencivenga himself.

All right, that’s enough copywriting iconoclasm for today.

But in case you want more copywriting lessons — and not all of them controversial — you might like to sign up to my daily email newsletter.

I will attempt to make you salivate with this email

by

Some time ago, I sent an email with the nonsense subject line:

“The real secret to how I survive the biggest mistake you are making the fastest way”

That was in response to a message I got from a mysterious reader. He sent me an email with no body, with just a file attached. The file had seven “tested and proven” subject line templates, which I mashed together to produce that monster above.

A bit of fun to prove a point. I thought that would be the end of it.

Except, a few days ago, my mysterious “won’t even say hello” correspondent popped up again. Another empty-bodied email. Another file attached.

This file promised to teach me “How to Make Your Reader Salivate Over Your Offer.”

The file described a sales technique. I won’t repeat it here. While it’s solid sales advice, it really won’t make anyone anywhere salivate.

I mean, really.

​​Have you ever found yourself literally salivating at a bit of sales copy? Staring at the screen, your lips parted, your tongue lolling around your mouth, having to swallow hard every few seconds?

Of course not. That kind of physical reaction is impossible to produce with words alone. Right?

Right. Or maybe not right. ​Because here’s a passage that this “make your reader salivate” stuff brought to my mind:

​For instance, just think of the word lemon, or get a quick image of a lemon and notice your response.

​​Now see a richly yellow 3-D image of the same lemon, and imagine slicing it in half with a sharp knife. Listen to the sound the knife makes as it slices through, and watch some of the juice squirt out, and small the lemon scent released.

​​Now reach out to pick up one of the lemon halves and bring it slowly to your mouth to taste it. Listen to the sound that your teeth make as hey bite into the juicy pulp, and feel the sour juice run into your mouth. Again, notice your response. Are you salivating a bit more than you did when you just had a word or a brief image of a lemon?

This passage comes from a self-help book. It’s in a chapter on getting motivated. It describes a technique that’s supposed to make you want an outcome more. Because as Seth Godin wrote a while ago:

Humans are unique in their ability to willingly change. We can change our attitude, our appearance and our skillset.

But only when we want to.

The hard part, then, isn’t the changing it.

It’s the wanting it.

I don’t know if the lemon technique above works in making you want to change. At least for the long term. But it doesn’t matter much.

My point is not how to achieve real change in yourself… but how to achieve the feeling of possible change in other people.

Because if you are in the business of direct response marketing… then much of your work consists of spiking up people’s feelings just long enough that they step out of the warm bathtub of their usual inactivity.

And that’s why popular self-help books might have a lot to offer you.

Which brings me to an offer that will almost certainly not make you salivate. In fact, this offer will probably not interest you or tempt you in the least.

Because my offer to you is the book from which I took that lemon passage above.

​​I already promoted that book extensively in this newsletter. It’s called NLP, and it was written by Steve Andreas and Charles Faulkner.

I promoted this book previously as a self-help book.

The value of this book as such is dubious, as is the value of all self-help books.

But the value of this book as a guide on how to stimulate the feeling of change and progress… of motivation and inspiration… in yourself and other people — that value is certain.

And for any marketer or copywriter who is willing and able to read the book as such, the book will be delicious. Maybe even mouthwatering. Figuratively speaking of course. In case you want it:

https://bejakovic.com/nlp

Cool-o & Sexy-o: I kill a bad joke even more dead for your benefit

by

In my email yesterday, I wrote about a tricky anti-tobacco campaign, “Tobacco is whacko.” ​​​I played on that phrase and explained how you can make your appeals “cool-o” and “sexy-o”. To which a friend lovingly wrote me:

“Cool-o. Sexy-o. This is the corniest email you’ve ever sent. You old man. Watching too many Joe Biden speeches?”

Let me take a Joe-like ramble and say:

Marketers and copywriters are often told to study only the successful advertising. The controls. The winners.

But I have personally found a lot of value by looking at stuff that flopped. Particularly if it was done by somebody who should have known better.

In my view, flops shine more light on valuable techniques than situations when everything goes perfectly.

So for example:

Maybe — though I admit nothing — the jokes in my email yesterday were lame-o and corny-o.

And yet, if you look at what exactly I was doing, you will be able to identify a powerful email copywriting technique I use all the time. Often to very good effect.

Rather than killing a bad joke even more dead by explaining what exactly I have in mind, let me just get to today’s point:

Read more bad advertising.

I’m not joking.

Ads that flopped might turn out to be the cheapest, though corniest, education in effective writing and marketing techniques you can get.

Of course, not all bad advertising is created equal.

Like I said, you want to look at stuff that flopped, but was written by somebody with sufficient other success. Somebody who was reaching for a technique that works in general, but for whatever reason, didn’t come out right-o that particular time-o.

If you want an example of that, pull out your copy of Joe Sugarman’s Adweek book.

Joe was great copywriter. He sold hundreds of millions’ worth of stuff with his infomercials, catalogs, and magazine ads.

But not every piece of Joe’s copy was a success. And his Adweek book includes a bunch of failures, where Joe’s copywriting techniques, including some he doesn’t highlight explicitly in the book, become obvious.

And if you still don’t have a copy of Joe’s book… well, what are you waiting for? Get it here, daddy-o:

https://bejakovic.com/adweek

A technique for $100k+ copywriters only

by

How’s this for under-the-radar persuasion:

In 1999, tobacco company Lorillard (which owns brands like Newport and Kent) ran an ad campaign to keep teens from smoking.

This was part of Lorillard’s public relations work. Officially, the goal was to make the company seem like your alcoholic but benevolent uncle, trying to steer you away from his own wayward path.

But beneath the surface, something else was lurking.

The ad campaign featured the message, “Tobacco is whacko if you’re a teen.” This might sound awkward or quaint, or like a typical example of brand advertising with a stupid slogan.

But it’s not that at all. Dig it:

A later statistical study found that each exposure to this ad increased the intention of middleschoolers to try cigarettes by 3%. In other words, if your kid sees this ad 30 times, his or her odds of trying a cigarette double.

What’s going on?

Well, it’s the tail of that message. “… if you’re a teen.” Which by extension means, tobacco ain’t whacko if you’re grown up. In that case, tobacco is cool-o and sexy-o. No wonder millennial McLovins figured it was time to light up.

My point being:

In traditional direct response marketing, you can’t mess around. You tell people what you’ve got and all the irrefutable reasons why they need it.

But in today’s world, you’ve email and youtube vids and instagram posts. These media are free, so it pays to experiment with alternate messaging. For example…

Instead of telling your prospects your offer is perfect for them, tell them your offer is not right for them. At least not yet, because they are not yet the person they want to become. And then hit them with that same message thirty more times — and your odds of making the sale might double.

And now let me come clean:

My daily email newsletter is totally whacko unless you’re already making $100k+ as a copywriter. But if you don’t believe me, click here and subscribe.

How to “remember” your way out of the hard labor of writing

by

Samuel Coleridge awoke from a deep opium slumber, grabbed a pen and paper, and scribbled down three stanzas that he says he composed in his dream.

At that moment, an unidentified person from Porlock interrupted Coleridge.

Once Coleridge made it back to his pen and paper, he found that the visions had vanished and he couldn’t complete the poem he had started.

The poem that Colerdige had written lingered unfinished for years, when at the suggestion of Lord Byron, it was published under the title Kubla Khan. It remains famous to this day, some two hundred years later.

Meanwhile, “the person from Porlock” has entered the lexicon as an unwanted intruder who disrupts inspiration or a moment of creativity.

If you ever struggle to write something, there’s a lesson hidden there in the story of Coleridge’s Kubla Khan. At least I think so.

I personally often write by “remembering” the finished product — before it is written.

Of course, this is a complete trick and a lie. But it works for me. It might work for you too. Here’s what to do:

Basically, instead of outlining or writing what you have to write, you pretend you’ve already written it. It’s there vaguely in your memory, as though you dreamt it.

So you grab a pen and paper, or more likely your laptop, and start furiously writing down whatever you can remember.

If you’ve already forgotten some part, just leave some XXXs to be filled in later.

The key is to get as much of your structure and individual words down as you can before your poem — or your sales copy or whatever — disappears into the darkness of the night.

And of course, beware of the person from Porlock. Any kind of distraction — whether checking your mail, doing a bit of research, or picking up your phone — can kill your visions. And then you are left with the hard labor of writing, instead of the easy act of remembering what was already written.

Do you think this was a useless suggestion? In that case, you probably won’t be interested in signing up for my daily email newsletter. But in case you are interested, click here and face the window that magically appears.

Ben Settle or Daniel Throssell? My #1 recommended resource to learn email copywriting

by

In my email yesterday, I wrote that I’m traveling for a few days and that my subconscious let me down.

That’s because I wanted to write a quick and easy email. But even though I channeled my inner Gary Bencivenga and summoned the giant within to help me out with my copywriting duties, I got nothing.

​​Absolutely nothing…

​​Or so it seemed.

In reality, maybe the giant within did do some work on my behalf.

Because there was something about the email I did end up writing yesterday.

For some reason that’s not clear to me, it provoked a bunch of earnest, curious, and even strange responses from people on my list. These responses will provide me with good email fodder for the next few days and maybe beyond.

​​To start with, here’s a question I got from a reader named Paul:

I am a relatively new copywriter but one thing that fascinates me is email copywriting. People like you, Ben Settle and Daniel Throssell make their email interesting to read, persuasive, even addicting.

If you could recommend some/one resource for learning email copywriting, which would you recommend? (besides your 10 commandments book, which I already bought and read, btw it’s a really great book)!

Well, if you have $100, you can give it to either Ben Settle (for his Email Players Skhema that comes with his Email Players monthly subscription) or to Daniel Throssell (for his Email Copywriting Compendium).

​​I have both, and I cheerfully endorse both.

Also, some time soon, I will re-release my Most Valuable Email training in a formal, course-like format. That will also sell for $100.

​​I’m biased to the tactic I discuss in that training, because it’s been responsible for many good results for me personally. So maybe you can just wait a bit and give me your $100 when the Most Valuable Email is available again.

Of course, there’s also an entirely different route if you want to spend you $100 in the best way.

Most people won’t want to hear this. But if you want to learn email marketing, I mean really learn it, then the best resource I can recommend is…

Active Campaign. Or MailChimp. Or Constant Contact. Or whatever.

The email software you use isn’t important.

What is important is that you start your own list.

Do it today.

And then later today, write a short email and send it to your list, even if you’ve got zero subscribers.

​​In that email, give a little occasion of what happened to you earlier in the day — “this Bejako character suggested I start my own newsletter.” Then tie it up with something you learned about email marketing by reading the newsletters of people who are a few years ahead of you.

Such as, for example, the fact that there’s a lot of value in free daily email newsletters, if you will only read carefully and then apply the advice.

So write that email today.

And then tomorrow, do it all over again, with a new occasion, and a new bit of something you learned.

Keep this up for a week. Then 30 days. Then for 90 days.

By that time, I bet you will be well on your way to making your own emails interesting, persuasive, and even addicting.

All right, so much for the free but valuable advice that almost nobody will take.

Again, if you’ve got a $100 burning a hole in your pocket, you can buy solid courses from both Ben, Daniel, and eventually from me.

But $100 will also get you 11 months of the lowest plan of Active Campaign. That’s the software I personally use. It’s fine, and I’m fine endorsing it to you.

If by some small chance you want to take my advice and want to get started now, you can use my affiliate link for Active Campaign below.

And if you do sign up for Active Campaign using my affiliate link, send me an email and let me know.

Once you set up your optin form, I’ll get on your list.

I don’t promise to read your emails all the time. I certainly don’t promise to give you feedback or coaching or public endorsements.

But I do promise to stay subscribed for at least 90 days. And maybe knowing that at least one person is on your list will be enough accountability to allow you to go from being fascinated by email copywriting… to being fascinating.

In case you are ready to get going:

https://bejakovic.com/activecampaign

How I plan to 10x my results by cutting down on clever copywriting techniques

by

I’m traveling for a few days, and while sipping my exotic travel coffee this morning, I thought:

“This damn daily email… how could I get it done a little more quickly today, while at the same time making it worthwhile for my readers to actually read?”

I waited for inspiration.

And I waited.

“Surely” I said to myself, “my subconscious, that powerful torpedo guidance system that Maxwell Maltz told me about, won’t leave me in the lurch. It will come up with something. Won’t it?”

My subconscious shrugged its shoulders. It was enjoying the morning coffee and the cool breeze too much to do any thinking.

Sure enough, I was left on my own.

So I did what I always do in situations like this.

I went back to a big ole file where I’ve collected the most valuable and interesting stories from the classic marketing books I’ve read over the years.

Such as, for example, the following short story from Claude Hopkins’s My Life In Advertising.

Hopkins is often called the “godfather of modern advertising.” And with reason. He helped build up Palmolive and Quaker Oats and Goodyear into giant brands that still survive and dominated today, a century later.

Anyways, my second favorite Claude Hopkins lesson is the following story, about the relative ineffectiveness of clever copywriting and sales techniques. Hopkins wrote:

“Mother made a silver polish. I molded it into cake form and wrapped it in pretty paper. Then I went from house to house to sell it. I found that I sold about one woman in ten by merely talking the polish at the door. But when I could get into the pantry and demonstrate the polish I sold to nearly all.”

I suspect there is some value in that story, if only you meditate on it a little. At least that’s what I’m doing. After all, Hopkins’s implied promise — 10x your results by focusing less on your clever sales pitch — is too big not to at least take a little seriously.

Like I said, that’s my second favorite Claude Hopkins lesson. My favorite Claude Hopkins lesson…

Well, it’s one I like the sound of a lot. But even though I learned it years ago, I still struggle to apply it.

If you want to read all about it, including how to maybe make it a little easier to apply, you can find it in Commandment VI of my 10 Commandments of A-list Copywriters. If you still haven’t got that little book yet:

https://bejakovic.com/10commandments

Persuasion world: Men wanted for hazardous journey

by

A couple years ago, I got an email from a successful copywriter who had just signed up to my list. He wrote me to say hello.

​​He also mentioned he found my site because he was studying Dan Ferrari’s sales letters in detail. (I had written some stuff about Dan and about being in Dan’s coaching program.)

The copywriter and I got to email-chatting a bit. I mentioned a presentation Dan once gave, where he broke down one of his most successful promotions. I offered to send successful copywriter #1, the guy who had written me, this presentation.

But he was reluctant. It seemed he had gotten what he wanted from Dan’s sales letters alone… and he didn’t want or need to hear Dan’s take on it.

And you know what? I can understand.

I liken it to going to see a movie versus reading a review of that same movie. The review might be good, might be bad… but even if it was written by the director himself, it’s certainly going to be a very different experience than seeing the actual movie itself.

The review won’t stimulate the same random pathways in the brain. It won’t trigger the same emotions. And it won’t allow for much independent thought.

This applies to you too. Right now, you may be reading books… going through courses… skimming emails like this one. Fine. They can give you the lay of the land when you’re new to a topic.

But the map, as they say in NLP, is not the territory.

Somebody else’s second-order interpretation of what persuasion is all about can only take you so far.

The good news is there’s a whole wild and dangerous world of TV shows, movies, current events, tabloids, political propaganda, real-life experiences, and yes, even books and articles, just waiting for you to start exploring and asking — why do I think this is compelling?

If you find that argument compelling, then I’ve got a contradictory bit of advice for you:

G​o and read my 10 Commandments book.

​​Not for any persuasion lessons it might contain… but rather, as an example of content that you can dissect and analyze yourself.

After all, a lot of people have found this book interesting and even valuable. If you want to see why, and maybe even how you can do something similar yourself, take a look here:

​​https://bejakovic.com/10commandments

I’d like to present to you the most wretched opening sentence of 2022

by

Ever since 1982, for more than a few years now, the world has been outraged (an increasingly common emotion these days) by a strange something called the Bulwer Lytton Fiction Contest.

Sir Edward George Bulwer-Lytton was a 19th-century novelist. In his time, he was more widely read than Charles Dickens. Also in his time, he opened one of his novels with these fateful words:

“It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents — except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the blah blah…”

Well, the Bulwer Lytton Fiction Contest is named in memory of poor Edward George. Each year, it challenges participants to channel Bulwer-Lytton and invent an “atrocious opening sentence to the worst novel never written.”

I found out about this bizarre contest I don’t know when. Of course, I immediately went to the BLFC website and signed up for their “(infrequent) BLFC news and updates.”

Then I forgot all about it.

But today, my patience and foresight were rewarded. Because the 2022 Bulwer Lytton Fiction Contest winners are out!

Perhaps you are morbidly curious to find out the winner — I mean, the loser — of this year’s contest.

If you are, don’t worry. I will reveal the offending sentence right now so you can scoff at it.

Ready? Cue the tubas, point the Klieg lights at the center of the stage, and let’s welcome this year’s most wretched opening sentence:

“I knew she was trouble the second she walked into my 24-hour deli, laundromat, and detective agency, and after dropping a load of unmentionables in one of the heavy-duty machines (a mistake that would soon turn deadly) she turned to me, asking for two things: find her missing husband and make her a salami on rye with spicy mustard, breaking into tears when I told her I couldn’t help — I was fresh out of salami.”

So? As bad as you thought?

Worse?

Or does it seem a little contrived?

It’s not easy writing wretchedly. John Farmer, the winner of this year’s Bulwer Lytton award, did a lot of things right, or wrong, to make this sentence so bad.

Perhaps you’re sure this could never happen to you. Not in real life. Not unless you yourself were trying on purpose to write something awful.

But let me get to my mandatory marketing and copywriting takeaway. And that is, it often makes sense to stack different related promises and appeals in your copy. For example:

“It slices, it dices…it even makes Julienne fries!”

It can even make sense to stack promises that aren’t immediately related:

“The ‘pleasure trigger’ secret accidentally discovered by medical doctors that sets up more intense and more frequent orgasms for you! (It also curbs premature ejaculation! Pages 136-141.)”

But at some point, the promises you make can get so far apart that they don’t blend pleasantly any more. Instead they clash, jangle, and feud with each other.

And it happens to the best of ’em.

Like the few people in my Copy Riddles Inner Ring. They have become very very good at writing bullets. Each week, I’m impressed by their copy and sometimes a little put off — “I wish I would have written this. Could I have written this? Or are they getting better at this than I am?”

And yet, on last week’s Inner Ring call, this exact same issue of clashing, jangling, and grating promises came up. The promise of the combined 24-hour deli, laundromat, and detective agency might seem convenient and attractive… but it’s actually atrocious.

So what to do?

The solution, if you ask me, is not to follow the “Rule of One” blindly.

After all, plenty of successful and effective copy doesn’t follow the “Rule of One.” Just look at the Ron Popeil and John Carlton copy above.

Instead, my advice is to be mindful that you can go too far.

And if you want to develop a a good ear, or eye, or nose for what too far might be, then the second best way to do that is to read good writing, and see how good writers do not cross that line.

The first best way of course is to look at really awful writing. Writing where mistakes are taken to the extreme, so they both make you laugh and so they stick in your memory.

If you want to see some of that, then check out the BLFC website, and scoff and snort at this year’s winners. Or just sign up to my email newsletter. I don’t always write atrociously. But sometimes I do, to make a point. In case you’re interested, here’s where to go.

Ideal positioning for coaches, consultants, and I would also add, copy chiefs

by

Back in the days before mammals evolved, I used to lurk on Reddit, specifically the r/copywriting subreddit.

It was almost entirely a giant waste of time. Each day would be a new pile of worthless posts like:

“I just rewrote this Heinz ketchup ad, what do you guys think”

“Ugh how do I get clients”

“Is it really true that copywriting can make you millions”

But, every Mercury retrograde or so, a little bit of gold dust appeared among all the mud and sand.

So for example, somebody once asked a question about the “essential Dan Kennedy.” In other words, out of the millions of words of written content and thousands of hours of recorded seminars and courses that Dan has produced, where to get started?

One guy, apparently a big-time DK fan, wrote up a very thorough comment in response.

I won’t reprint it here. You can look it up on Reddit if you’re curious.

But at the end of his 1,052-word comment reviewing the best Dan Kennedy material, this guy added in something unusual. Something that wasn’t created by Dan. In fact, a Hollywood comedy.

“This is a movie that Dan has said shows the ideal positioning you want to have as a coach or consultant,” the Reddit DK fan wrote.

“Aha!” I said. “Finally something to pay for all those wasted hours on Reddit.”

The movie in question is called The Muse. It was made in 1999 by Albert Brooks, who also stars in the lead role, along with Sharon Stone, Andie MacDowell, and Jeff Bridges. It even features cameo appearances by Martin Scorcese, Rob Reiner, and James Cameron.

I watched The Muse a couple years ago, right after reading that Reddit post. I rewatched it again last night.

It’s cute but not great. But that’s not the point.

The point is I can see why Dan recommends it as an illustration of the perfect positioning for any coach or consultant.

And I would also add, maybe even the ideal positioning for for any highly successful copy chief.

At least that’s what I thought a few weeks ago. I was reminded of The Muse while listening to a certain very successful copy chief talk about the yearly retreats he takes his team on.

​​During the retreat, this copy chief and his copywriters don’t talk copy or marketing.

​​Instead, they just go for hikes and listen to music in synchrony. It reminded me of the aquarium scene in The Muse.

Anyways, if you are a coach, consultant, or maybe even copy chief, The Muse might be worth a look. Or not.

What’s definitely worth a look, or not, is my daily email newsletter. There tends to be a lot of mud and sand, but occasionally some gold dust in there as well. In case you are curious, you can sign up for it here.