The Son of 4-Hour Work Week

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“There is an inverse relationship between the value of knowledge and what people are willing to pay for it. The most important things in life you’ve probably heard a hundred times before, but you’re not paying attention. When you’re in the right place and you hear it, you have that ‘aha’ moment and everything changes.”
— Mark Ford

In 2007, Tim Ferris published The 4-Hour Work Week.

The book had great kairos. It hit the New York Times Best Seller list, stayed there for four years, and sold over 2 million copies.

And it wasn’t just 4HWW. Around the same time, lots of marketers were telling you how to make good money online by building lots of tiny niche websites… or publishing dozens of crappy ebooks… or in general making some hit-and-run cash grab.

I’m sure you can still find these kinds of offers floating around the Internet. But my feeling is — and I could be wrong — that the zeitgeist has changed.

For a while now, the pendulum has swung in the other direction.

That’s the direction of building a real business, a personal brand, of creating an asset. Like Rich Schefren said recently (I’m paraphrasing):

“Why would you want to have a job that you hate so much you only do it for four hours a week? Why not build a business that you love to work in every day?”

The thing is, markets get saturated. People get bored of hearing the same message, even if it is completely on-the-money.

And my suspicion is, right now, the pendulum of “Build a sustainable business” is at its peak.

I hallucinate the pendulum will come swinging down soon. People will again be ready to hear the message that you can make passive income, and that money-getting can be reduced to an occasional unpleasant chore, much like going to the dentist.

That’s just my prediction. I’m sharing with you for two reasons:

1. If you haven’t been able to buy into the “Build a business you love” mantra, and you feel guilty about it (as I do), then better times might be ahead.

2. Like I said, it’s been over 10 years since The 4-Hour Work Week was published. Since then, there hasn’t been any money-making book that’s hit the mainstream and had the same impact.

In other words, there might be an opportunity here. If you get going on writing something right now, you might have it ready just as the world starts to emerge from its current months-long delirium. ​​

​​You might even become the next Tim Ferriss. ​​Only trouble is, much like Tim Ferriss, you’ll have to work much more than four hours a week to get there.

In other news, I have an email newsletter where I write about marketing and copywriting. Topics like what you just read. So if you want a regular daily diet of such essays, here’s where to go.

Speaking non-sexually about reactance and excitement

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I won’t say I’ve never been excited in my life. It’s just never lasted very long.

But let me take a step back.

A couple weeks ago, I wrote a post in which I agonized over the question of, why do people sometimes soak up outside influence like a sponge… while at other times they react to it like prickly porcupines prepping for a fight?

A few readers wrote in with helpful answers. But I still wasn’t 100% satisfied.

And then, while reading a book called the Catalyst, which seems to be a kind of modern-day addendum to Cialdini’s Influence, I came across the concept of “reactance.”

I’ve mentioned this also in a recent post.

Basically, if people feel like you are trying to persuade them… if they feel pushed… and in particular, if they feel you’re getting something out of it… then they have a tendency to become all stubborn and guarded. Sometimes, they will even do the exact opposite of what you want them to do.

Which is probably the most obvious observation in the history of persuasion literature. And it just goes to show what a literal-minded chimp I can be, since I didn’t think of this myself.

Reactance is why, if you got any kind of agenda, your best course is to get your prospect to persuade himself. I’ve written about this repeatedly, and I’m even putting together a book about it.

But here’s another theory I thought of yesterday:

Reactance might also be why enthusiasm works so well in sales copy.

Sure, enthusiasm makes your promises seem bigger and more urgent.

But it also tricks the reader, or allows him to trick himself, into believing he’s listening to a passionate preacher who cannot stop himself from sharing important news… rather than a sly salesman who is using facts to influence and manipulate.

The point being, reactance is another vote in support of getting excited and enthused when you write.

Because you’ve got to feel excited yourself. Enthusiasm is very hard to fake. And if your audience smells you are faking it, then then they get all stubborn and guarded again.

So how do you start feeling excited or enthusiastic for real?

Now we’re back to the beginning. Because enthusiasm is not something I’m good at, not for any length of time. Like Faye Dunaway says in the movie Network, “I arouse quickly, consummate prematurely, and can’t wait to get my clothes back on and get out of that bedroom.”

You know, speaking non-sexually.

So if you got any advice, write in and let me know.

Otherwise, if you’d like to hear more about overcoming reactance, I write about it in my daily email newsletter on occasion. And let me state for the record, I’ve got no ulterior motives in mentioning that, besides trying to persuade you to sign up. If that’s what you want to do, the place to go is here.

Forrest Fenn fortune finally found

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Ten years ago, somewhere in the Rocky Mountains, a man named Forrest Fenn buried a small treasure chest.

According to the available descriptions, the chest dated back to the 12th century. It was made of bronze, with wood liner and a locking front clasp. On its sides, it showed scenes of knights scaling a wall while damsels above rained down flowers.

Fenn, who was a filthy-fun arts and antiquities dealer out of Santa Fe, filled the chest with hundreds of rare coins, gold nuggets, and pieces of ancient jewelry. The treasure was estimated to be worth between $1 and $2 million.

And then, Forrest Fenn hid the treasure and the chest “in the mountains somewhere north of Santa Fe ” — intending for somebody else to find it.

Fenn published a memoir in 2010 titled The Thrill of the Chase. It contained hints as to the location of his treasure chest. It also contained a poem, which Fenn said had nine specific clues.

In the decade since, hundreds of thousands of people searched for Fenn’s treasure. Five treasure hunters even died in the quest, by falling off cliffs or drowning in rivers.

And then this weekend, Fenn announced that somebody has finally found the treasure chest, somewhere “under a canopy of stars in the lush, forested vegetation of the Rocky Mountains.”

So what’s the copywriting lesson here?

First, I think this was an impressive instance of mobilizing people. Forrest Fenn literally got people to sacrifice their lives in search of a $1M prize.

Of course, this wasn’t just about $1 million. This was about uncovering a secret treasure. And that’s the point I want to get across to you.

Forrest Fenn could have just announced that he had buried $1M worth of treasure in the Rocky Mountains. “Go find it, you bums!”

But that’s not what he did.

Look at the description above of the treasure chest and its contents. It came from Fenn himself.

There’s so much detail.

You can probably picture the bronze box, the relief on the sides, and the jewels and gold coins stacked up to the rim. Then there’s Fenn’s memoir itself, in which every line could be a possible clue to the location. ​

And that’s the copywriting lesson.

If you’re going to lead people by the nose, you have to give them enough bait to get them hooked. Otherwise, they will just think you’re making stuff up. Or, as John Forde and Michael Masterson put it so formally in Great Leads:

“Specificity is absolutely required to overcome the skepticism that secrets automatically evoke.”

Higher open rates = lower sales?

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“They like to talk to salesmen, something. They’re lonely. I don’t know. They like to feel superior. Never bought a fucking thing.”
David Mamet, Glengarry Glen Ross

I’ve been writing a lot of emails in the ecommerce space lately. This is for a client who’s constantly launching new products.

A few days ago, the client wrote me with a question:

“I’m curious with all the recent launches, which have looked most promising from an open rate and revenue standpoint?”

I could tell him right away which of the products were most successful in terms of revenue. But I wasn’t sure about open rates. So I decided to dig into the data.

It turns out the relationship between open rates and sales in our case has been negative. In other words, the more people opened up our emails, the less money we made. I even ran a little regression on it. On average, each extra percent of opens cost us $100 worth of sales.

How could that be?

Well, for one thing, we keep promoting different products, and at different price points. Higher-priced products might have less overall interest, but can result in more sales.

But there are other possible explanations, too.

For example, different subject lines will select for different segments of the market.

Maybe one subject line gets you a lot of opens. But like in that Glengarry Glen Ross scene above, maybe you’re just reaching a bunch of bored leads, who like to click on sensationalist ads, and who have no intention of buying anything.

Whatever the explanation is, the message is clear:

All those millions of blog posts by email marketing experts telling you how to increase your open rates could actually be hurting your sales.

A. B. C.

Always be checking your sales numbers. Sales numbers are for closers. Open rates? They’re for bums.

Speaking of open rates, I write a daily email newsletter with very high open rates. If you’d like to get on it so you can bring those numbers down, here’s where to subscribe.

Salvation for low self-esteem prospects

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Martin Luther was obsessed with images of the devil’s butt.

Luther was tormented, day after day, by the awareness of his sins and impurities.

He went to confession so often and confessed in such detail that his confessors grew angry.

Had Martin Luther been born today, there’s a good chance he would be diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive disorder, and medicated accordingly.

But because Luther was born in the right environment for his particular kind of crazy, he went on to become one of the most influential persons of the last thousand years.

Point being, a seeming weakness or fault can actually be a tremendous strength — in the right circumstances.

Yesterday, I promised to tell you one way you can convince your prospects that success for them is probable, and not just possible.

This is something I picked up in a talk by Rich Schefren. Rich said that one of the biggest things you have to do as a marketer is increase your prospect’s self-esteem.

And the way to do that is to take something your prospect doesn’t like about himself… and to twist it, so it becomes a potential strength.

“You say you’re obsessed with images of the devil’s butt? That’s actually a good thing. It means you’re on the lookout for moral weakness, which can help you and others from sliding into sin.”

Of course, you’re probably not selling to Martin Luther types.

But with a bit of thinking, you can show your prospect how his procrastination… or shiny-object addiction… or never following through… are just bad manifestations of a good kind of crazy inside him. In slightly different circumstances, the underlying positive characteristics would make him a success.

And how could he change his circumstances in the right way? The path to salvation is quick and easy. It lies in taking you up on your offer.

Here’s an offer that is sure to help you rid yourself of intrusive images of demonic behinds: I write a daily email newsletter. It talks about the fine points of persuasion and copywriting. And if you’d like to keep yourself far from the temptation to slack off in your learning about persuasion and copywriting, then click here to subscribe.

Possible vs. probable in murder and in marketing

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A few days ago, as part of research for a copywriting project, I watched a movie called 12 Angry Men.

There are some spoilers about it ahead. So if you’re ever planning on watching this 1957 classic, it may be best to stop reading now.

Still here?

All right. Then I can spoil for you that this entire movie is about a jury deliberating a murder case.

An 18-year-old kid is charged with killing his father. Did he do it?

All the jurors believe so. Except for juror #8, who has a few doubts.

Over the course of the movie, through some unlikely twists and turns, this one guy, played by Henry Fonda, manages to flip all the other jurors.

The toughest nut to crack is a bull-necked businessman. He refuses to believe the kid shouldn’t go to the chair. After all, what about the woman who saw the kid do it?

And then the following exchange takes place:

Henry Fonda: Don’t you think the woman might have made a mistake?
Bull-necked businessman: No!
Henry: It’s not possible?
Bull-neck: It’s not possible!

Stubborn. Of course, what this last juror is saying is, it’s so improbable it’s practically impossible. And that reminded me of something insightful I heard from marketer Rich Schefren.

Rich was talking about prospects in direct response markets. These markets tend to be filled with people who have repeatedly failed to solve their problem. In time, many of these people conclude that solving their problem is so improbable that it is practically impossible.

The standard marketing approach ignores this. A typical sales letter explains how great the offer is. And then it gives testimonials to prove it.

“It might work for them,” your bull-headed prospect will say. “But my situation is different. It’s impossible!”

So your job as a direct response marketer is not just to show your prospect his problem can be solved. Instead, you gotta give the prospect hope that this time it’s different, and that success is probable, not just possible.

How do you do that?

I can think of a few different ways. I’ll tell you about one of them, which works well for swinging a jury of skeptical information buyers, in my email tomorrow. If you don’t want to miss that, here’s where you can subscribe to my newsletter.

“Reality is a shared hallucination”

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“A student working under the direction of anthropologist Edward T. Hall hid in an abandoned car and filmed children romping in a school playground at lunch hour. Screaming, laughing, running and jumping, each seemed superficially to be doing his or her own thing. But careful analysis revealed that the group was moving to a unified rhythm.”

I ventured out of my apartment today for a rare night-time sortie into the city. And I found a proper summer evening outside:

Teenagers stood around on curbs in groups, giggling to themselves.

Couples strolled down the street and talked in a self-absorbed world.

An occasional single person, just getting out of work at 7:30pm, walked alone, staring at the ground and looking beaten.

All this reminded me of an article that I read years ago, just when I was starting to learn about copywriting. I want to share it with you tonight.

Let me warn you first that this article has no copywriting tactics in it, and nothing about marketing.

But it does talk about human psychology on a really fundamental level, which I haven’t seen discussed much elsewhere.

The article affected me very much. It’s stuck with me for years. It’s colored how I approach marketing, and how I see the world.

It was written by one Howard Bloom. Originally a music publicist for big names like Prince and Billy Joel, Bloom also wrote about group behavior in his spare time.

The quote up top is from one such article of Bloom’s, titled “Reality is a shared hallucination.” That’s the article I read many years ago, and the one I think you might find interesting.

​​In case you’re curious, here’s the link:

https://www.heise.de/tp/features/Reality-is-a-shared-hallucination-3412882.html

Copywriting playboys get treated like a piece of meat

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A while back, when there was still such a thing as professional sports, I noticed that the top three or four men’s tennis players all had one unusual thing in common:

They were all in settled, long-term relationships, often with the same girl they had started dating while they were still teenagers.

Further down the rankings, you had tennis players who were known to be playboys. Regardless of their natural talent, these playboys hovered around the top 20, but could never break into the very peak of the sport.

Coincidence?

Probably. But maybe not. Maybe a stable relationship really is crucial for massive success.

Don’t worry. I’m not telling you to go in search of a ball and chain to lock around your ankle. My point is simply this:

When I look at top copywriters — meaning people who get paid millions of dollars a year, with schedules booked up months in advance — they all fall into one of two categories.

One is guys like Chris Haddad or Jon Benson, who got successful promoting their own offers. The other is guys like Dan Ferrari and Stefan Georgi, who worked in-house at a direct response publisher for long enough to get a pile of successes in their knapsacks.

What you don’t see are playboys who came up by bouncing around from client to client. Maybe this promiscuous lifestyle worked many winters ago. But I don’t see it happening today.

Not to say you can’t make good money as a copywriting playboy. It’s what I’ve done in my career. I now make more money for less work than at any job I could have ever held.

But if you want to make it to the top… or if you want to be perceived as more than a commodity service provider… then jumping from client to client is unlikely to get you there. ​​If you want clients to stop seeing you as a piece of meat, you will have to get hitched — either to your own business, or to somebody else’s.

That’s something I’m working on as well right now. If you want to follow how I’m doing that, click here and subscribe to my email newsletter.

Use the Force to avoid copy that’s too long

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George Lucas’s early drafts for the Star Wars script talked about “the Force of Others.”

These early drafts gave detailed explanations of what the Force of Others was, how it tied into a “Kyber crystal,” and how there was a “Bogan” side and an “Ashla” side of it.

Following his better instincts, Lucas stripped out all the explaining in the final draft. He got rid of the crystal and the Bogan nonsense, and dropped “the Others” and simply called it “the Force.” Star Wars went on to become a pretty, pretty big hit.

There’s a copywriting lesson here. But first, here’s another illustration:

Back in 1982, Darryl Hall was writing the prototype of a song called Maneater. He was stumbling on the last line of the chorus. “Oh here she comes… She’s a maneater and a …”

Hall can’t remember the original final line, because his girlfriend told him to “drop that shit at the end.” So he did. Maneater went to the top of the charts ​and stayed there longer than any other Hall & Oates song. Hall said that cutting down the last line made all the difference.

Conventional direct response wisdom says that longer copy outperforms shorter copy. It’s been proven over and over in many tests.

Copywriter Victor Schwab, who wrote How to Write a Good Advertisement, definitely supported the use of longer copy. But Schwab also wrote the following:

“Some ads don’t need much factual under-pinning… The copy about some products can soar successfully — without ‘coming a cropper.’ An abundance of factual material merely inhibits its flight. If too explicit about the “why” and “hows,” such copy pulls the reader’s imagination up short.” ​​

I can’t give you a recipe for when you should take out the “whys” and “hows” of your copy. I think it’s a matter of having a good feel for your market and your product, and knowing what they need to hear — and what not — in order to make the sale.

In other words, trust your intuition. Or use the Force. The Bogan Force. Of Others. And stop yourself if you say too much.

I should have stopped there. But I have one final thing to say. I write a daily email newsletter. If you’d like to get my emails, much like what you just read, you can sign up here.

How to avoid disappointing readers and burning yourself with “secrets”

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If you go on Amazon right now and look at the top 15 bestsellers in the Internet Marketing category, you will see a curious thing:

6 of those 15 books have a title of the form “[Topic] Secrets.” So there’s Traffic Secrets, YouTube Secrets, Instagram Secrets, plus three others.

Obviously, “secret” is a powerful word in direct marketing. It goes back to Robert Collier at least, who published a book called The Secret of the Ages back in 1926.

In the decades since, you had Gary Halbert with his sequence of “amazing secret” ads… Boardroom’s collection of “secrets” books… and today, Agora’s newest imprint in the IM space, which has a newsletter called Daily Insider Secrets.

Like I said, secrets obviously sell. Then and now.

And yet, I’m writing this email to warn you about “secrets.”

For one thing, “secrets” can make you sound like everybody else. 6 out of 15, remember?

For another, “secrets” might attract the wrong kinds of buyers. They might also put the right kinds of buyers into the wrong frame of mind.

For a third thing, and most important, relying on words like “secrets” can allow you to coast instead of coming up with better content. For example, here are some of the secrets from one of those Amazon best-sellers:

“Secret #1: What is copywriting?”
“Secret #13: It’s all about them — never about you”
“Secret #31: Polish your sales copy”

I don’t know how chipper you would have to be to avoid getting down in the mouth when this treasure chest of secrets is opened up.

But what’s the problem? The book is a best-seller, right?

In my experience, being on an Amazon best-seller list doesn’t mean much. But even if this book were a legit best seller, putting out generic content and calling it a secret leaves you wide open to competition. Your only defense is this thin mist of curiosity, which can dissipate in a moment.

Maybe I’m digging myself into a moralizing hole. So let me finish up by telling you what I tell myself, because it might resonate:

Put in a bit of extra work to come up with unique content and a unique perspective. Once you’ve got that, if it warrants being called a “secret,” then sear that on its rump and let it run.

But odds are, once you’ve done that bit of extra work, you’ll come up with a better, more interesting title or headline for your content. Maybe you’ll even start a new naming trend. One which half a dozen Amazon best-sellers will copy for years to come.

By the way, I’ve also got a daily email newsletter. It’s called John Bejakovic’s Newsletter of Secrets. You don’t have to sign up. But if you want to read all the secrets inside, here’s where to go.