Don’t play it again, Sam

“Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world,” says Rick while looking into his glass, “she walks into mine.”

Rick’s piano player Sam is there in the back of the darkened room, softly rolling out some hokey-pokey tune.

“What’s that you’re playing?” Ricks asks him.

“Just a little something of my own,” says Sam over his shoulder.

“Well stop it,” Rick tells him. “You know what I wanna hear. You played it for her, you can play it for me.”

Sam stops playing. He turns around carefully. “Oh, I don’t think I can remember.”

“If she can stand it, I can,” barks Rick. “PLAY IT!”

You probably recognize this as one of the most dramatic of all the scenes from all the films in all the Hollywood. It’s from Casablanca, and it’s one of a couple of scenes that gets close to using the famous line “Play it again, Sam,” which doesn’t actually appear anywhere in the movie.

To my mind, this scene is a great illustration of 1) an important point about writing and 2) something more.

The writing bit is something that I read in a New Yorker article about big-name playwright, director, and screenwriter David Mamet. Mamet has written movies like “Glengarry Glenn Ross” (“Always be closing”) as well as The Spanish Prisoner, Wag the Dog, Ronin, and a bunch more. Anyways, here’s the Mamet quote I read today:

“The main question in drama, the way I was taught, is always what does the protagonist want… Do we see the protagonist’s wishes fulfilled or absolutely frustrated? That’s the structure of drama… People only speak to get something… They may use a language that seems revealing, but if so, it’s just coincidence, because what they’re trying to do is accomplish an objective.”

You can definitely see the protagonist’s “absolutely frustrated” wishes in the Casablanca scene. A few indirect words, mostly about what song to play, reveal the desperate psychological setup of Rick’s character in that moment.

You want to show, not tell. And you want to make the dialog about what the protagonist wants, whether he’s getting it or not.

That covers the first half of the Mamet quote above.

But like I said, there’s something more in that Casablanca scene and in that Mamet quote. It has to do with a really fundamental truth about human psychology. And it’s very useful to know if you are ever looking to influence people, or to understand them better.

But I can’t talk about this second thing today. Because I have a rule, “One post, one topic.” However, read my post tomorrow, and I’ll tell you all about this fundamental truth about the human mind, and how it fits into the Casablanca scene above.

Money don’t love Spruce Goose

On a beautiful day exactly 72 years ago, Howard Hughes put down the telephone and took hold of the controls.

He was piloting the largest flying boat ever built.

I’m talking about the Hughes H-4 Hercules, aka the Spruce Goose.

In spite of the nickname, The Goose was mostly birch. That didn’t stop it from being enormously expensive for the time, and with good reason. As Hughes put it:

“It is over five stories tall with a wingspan longer than a football field. That’s more than a city block. Now, I put the sweat of my life into this thing. I have my reputation all rolled up in it and I have stated several times that if it’s a failure, I’ll probably leave this country and never come back. And I mean it.”

Well, I guess Hughes didn’t mean it all that seriously. Because he didn’t leave the country, even though, by all practical measures, the Goose turned out to be a failure.

After all, once Hughes lifted The Goose above the sparkling waters off Long Beach, CA, it flew for less than a minute, for less than a mile.

That was its one and only flight.

And even this one lousy flight came well after the end of World War II, even though The Goose was designed to be a war transport plane, and even though the whole point of building The Goose out of spruce (or birch) was the wartime restriction on materials such as aluminum.

So yeah, the Spruce Goose remains a great illustration of a massive, optimistic, and very impractical and useless project.

The point being, don’t be like Howard Hughes.

Because money don’t love Spruce Goose.

Money loves speed.

(I’ve tried to track down who coined that saying, but I don’t have a definitive answer. The farthest back I’ve been able to go is to direct marketer Joe Vitale, who is mentioned in Mark Ford’s Ready Fire Aim as promoting the idea that fast is more profitable than perfect.)

Of course, I’m not saying to cut corners and be sloppy in your work.

​​But if you put the sweat of your life into one project, and roll up your whole reputation into one thing, odds are you’ll wind up with a multi-million dollar goose on your hands. And the bitch won’t even fly.

Miracle Max’s copywriting masterclass

There’s a scene in The Princess Bride that’s very instructive for copywriters.

(If you haven’t seen the movie, go and watch it. It’s wonderful.)

Anyways, the scene is set in the hovel of Miracle Max, a miracle man who can bring people back from the dead.

And that’s why the main hero, Westley, is lying there dead on Miracle Max’s table.

But Max isn’t convinced he should bring Westley back to life.

So he takes a magical bellows, sticks it Westley’s mouth, and puffs some air into Westley’s dead body.

“Heey? Hello in there?” Max yells at Westley’s corpse. “What’s so important? Whatcha got here that’s worth living for?”

He then presses down on Westley’s chest. And out comes the response:

“TR…OOOOO…LUV…”

I thought of this scene today because I got some feedback from my copywriting coach.

He said my copy needed to be more theatrical.

More dramatic.

More “spicy.”

But how do you copy spicy?

Well, one option is to raise the stakes.

Or like William Goldman, the author of The Princess Bride, puts it,

“Fencing. Fighting. Torture. Love. Hate. Revenge. Giants. Beasts of all natures and descriptions. Truths. Passion. Miracles.”

Of course, you shouldn’t literally add fencing and giants and torture into your copy.

But if you keep these Goldman ideas in mind, you’ll find the equivalent stories in your prospect’s life… or in the back story of your guru… or in what your competition is doing.

Just make sure you write clearly so your prospects can understand you.

Because (as you can see at the end of the Miracle Max scene in the Princess Bride) “TR…OOOOO…LUV…” can be misheard as “to blave,” which as everybody knows, means, “to bluff.”

And nobdoy’s gonna do what you ask them to do, if they think your only goal is to cheat them or make money at their expense.

A working witch’s broom for your Halloween?

I read an article today about the scientific search for anti-gravity.

Anti-gravity is just what it sounds like:

A mysterious force that fights gravity and could be used by humans for levitating, sending slim jims into space, and possibly even saving suicidal walruses.

Before I lose you, let me say this article was completely serious, just like the search for anti-gravity.

In fact, some very smart and successful scientists, working around the middle of the 20th century, and sponsored by the U.S. government, thought that the discovery of anti-gravity was imminent. One such scientist, by the name of George S. Trimble, had this to say:

“I think we could do the job in about the time that it actually required to build the first atom bomb if enough trained scientific brainpower simultaneously began thinking about and working towards a solution. Actually, the biggest deterrent to scientific progress is a refusal of some people, including scientists, to believe that things which seem amazing can really happen…”

I bring this up because it’s Halloween today.

Imagine if Trimble and his colleagues had succeeded. Today we might have real-life witch’s brooms, which you could hop on and fly around from door to door, trick or treating.

Now maybe this whole thing sounds outlandish to you. And that’s kind of the point.

Because the fact is, we have lots of really outlandish technologies out there, but we take them for granted.

Have you heard of CRISPR, which can turn an elephant into a frog?

Or of quantum computing, where a mystery box spits out answers that no normal computer could ever calculate?

Or even something mundane like your cell phone, which allows you to receive cat memes and pictures of lattes that your friends are drinking right now, through some spooky jiggling at the atomic level?

We accept all of these technologies and we believe that they’re true.

But anti-gravity?

Come on, get real.

And this has real implications for direct response copywriting.

Because if you’ve got some breakthrough new solution, people might be intrigued, but they will quickly get skeptical as well.

For example, I’m writing a VSL right now to promote a system for making money in real estate…

Without owning any property, without taking out any loans, and without investing any money, yours or other people’s.

Sounds too good to be true, right?

And yet it’s real and it’s legit.

The question then becomes how to convince people of it. And the answer might be something else I found in the anti-gravity article, this time from physics professor Louis Witten:

“Some of them were very simple ideas. The simple ideas are always hard to combat. Suppose somebody comes to you and says ‘I have a rock of bismuth that demonstrates anti-gravity.’ What do you do?”

Keep this in mind if you’re writing your own VSLs. And if you’re not interested in writing VSLs, but you are interested in writing advertorials, then you might get a Halloween trick or treat by looking here:

https://bejakovic.com/advertorials/

Rough and smooth copywriting sandpaper

I believe it was Michelangelo who wrote:

“Every block of stone has a statue inside it and it is the task of the sculptor to discover it.”

Similarly, every hairball of a first draft has a good piece of copy inside it. And it is the task of the copywriter to discover it.

Perhaps you think it’s grandiose to compare copywriting to fine art?

You’re probably right. But the fact remains, I’m currently writing the first draft of a video sales letter, and it is far from fine.

No matter. Because as soon as I wrap up this first draft, hopefully tonight, I will start to polish it. I’ve even got 7 separate grades of sandpaper of varying smoothity, which should help me discover that good piece of copy hiding inside.

#1. Tidbit sandpaper

With this sandpaper, I make a new loop through all my notes. Product research, customer research, testimonials… And I note good tidbits that I haven’t yet included in the sales letter. These tidbits could just be a good phrase, or a convincing argument, or anything. When I’ve made this list of tidbits, I go in, and I squeeze each one into my copy at some point.

#2. Vision sandpaper

Show, don’t tell. So “Jack was starting to give into the pressure” becomes…

“Jack was pounding away at an old typewriter. He had already typed up hundreds of pages, and each one repeated the same phrase over and over. ‘All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.'”

#3. Grasp-the-advantage sandpaper

This is a must for good copy, and it comes from Victor Schwab’s book, How to Write a Good Advertisement. Throughout the copy, make sure you are bringing it back to the prospect, and making it clear why this matters to him.

“Our real estate investing system gets you all the hot leads you can handle for free.”

Yeah, so what?

“So you don’t have to spend any of your own money.”

Yeah, so what?

“So you can get started even if you’re dead broke right now.”

Hmmm…

#4. Midge sandpaper

Master copywriter David Deutsch has this thing he calls, “Hey Midge.” Basically, the copy should sound like something a guy would say to his wife (Midge?). In other words, this is where you focus on writing to just one person, your ideal avatar.

#5. Dumb sandpaper

There’s a website out there called the Hemingway Editor. You paste your copy in, and it tells you the reading level. It also tells you how to lower the reading level. I aim for grade 6.

#6. Intense sandpaper

David Garfinkel said on a recent episode of the Copywriters Podcast that the way to make copy “intense” is to write long copy, and then cut it down. So when I finish all the other steps above, I trim down my copy by 10%. I start by cutting out worthless adjectives and adverbs. Next are the complicated phrases that could be simpler. And then I will take out entire sentences or even paragraphs to meet my 10% quota.

#7. Boron sandpaper

I don’t know if Gary Halbert was the first to suggest reading your copy out loud. But his Boron Letters was the first place I saw this advice. And I still stick to it.

So there you go. Hopefully it can help you if you’ve got a hairball on your hands as well.

And if you need more ideas for pre-processing and post-processing your copy, maybe you will find some help here:

https://bejakovic.com/advertorials/

Marketing devil-inspired price negotiation tactics

A girl I met this summer wrote me yesterday to ask for advice on pricing a copywriting project:

“Wassup busy bee? 🙂 i need professional advice. How much should i ask to write anarchist articles for commercial purposes (meaning to sell t-shirts) :))? Is 100 dollars per 500+ words too much or fair? How much would u ask for?”

Anarchist articles?

To sell t-shirts?

At $100 for 500 words?

That’s not the pond that I play in.

Because I made a deal with the marketing devil a long time ago.

Yes, I sold my soul to him. In exchange, I get a series of ever-higher-paying contracts, working on ever-more interesting projects.

So the particular rates I would charge at this moment are really no use to this girl, or to you in case you’re wondering what you should be charging for your work.

But I told her something that the marketing devil taught me. And you might find it useful as well.

It’s a super simple price negotiation tactic. It works 100% of the time to get you an outcome you can be happy with. And it goes like this:

1. Ask yourself, “How much would it take to honestly make this worthwhile for me?”
2. Make your potential client this offer.
3. If it works for them, great. If not, or if they try to haggle with you, tell them, “Thanks, but it’s not right for me.”

But maybe I hear you complaining, “This isn’t negotiation at all!”

And it’s certainly not the kind of nickel-and-diming, car-lot tactics you can read about in hundreds of Medium listicles. But like legendary copywriter and entrepreneur Mark Ford wrote recently:

“The difference depends on understanding that in business there are two fundamentally different kinds of negotiation: transactional and relational.”

In other words, if you use my simple devil-inspired price negotiation tactic, and you end up doing business with this client, you’re on good footing to form a long-term relationship that both sides are happy with.

And if you don’t end up doing business with them, for whatever reason (they can’t afford you, or they don’t value you enough, or they are simply lowballing jackasses), then you don’t really have a negotiation problem.

You have a lead generation problem. Which is another topic, for another day. For today, let me just say I solved my lead generation problem in the beginning by going where everybody says you shouldn’t go.

And that’s Upwork.

In case you want to see how I made very good money by dealing with quality clients that I actually landed on Upwork, then check out the following:

https://bejakovic.com/150-dollar-per-hour-freelancer

The delusional Madame Copywriter

I was at the opera tonight to watch a rather racy piece called Madame Butterfly.

It’s set in early-20th-century Japan, and it’s about an American navy officer who marries a Japanese child bride, gets her pregnant, and then leaves her with the promise to come back soon.

Three years pass, and the situation is getting desperate.

The guy still hasn’t come back. The kid is growing up. And money is running out.

Madame Butterfly (the Japanese child bride) gets into an emotional fever.

She’s sure her American husband is coming back imminently.

Butterfly’s maid is there on the side, her head in her hands, knowing the guy is probably never coming back, and trying to caution some reason into her mistress.

Because it’s hard to see the world as it is once you get into an emotional fever.

It could be because of love. Or it could simply be because of other kinds of investment, such as of time, effort, or skill.

For example, I think that’s one of the main reasons for businesses to hire an outside marketing consultant or copywriter.

A hired marketing gun can come into a business, and evaluate both the marketing assets and liabilities, without the emotional baggage that the people inside the business carry.

And actually, that’s why I’ve always doubted the hackneyed argument that copywriters should be able to sell their own services. It usually goes like this:

“If a copywriter can’t sell his own services, how can he expect to sell other people’s stuff?”

Well, because he won’t be the delusional Madame Copywriter in that case. He’ll have an impartial third-person view, rather than a hysterical first-person view.

Anyways, I wouldn’t say that I’m brilliant at selling my own copywriting services. But I’m trying to make do, writing a little self-promotional post every day, while waiting for my long-lost love to pull back into harbor on his American warship.

But don’t let that fool you.

Because even though I might not be brilliant at selling myself, I am brilliant at selling other people’s stuff. Well, at least I’m very good at it. And if you want to see some lessons I’ve learned about promoting various ecommerce products through hardcore advertorials, take a look here:

https://bejakovic.com/advertorials/

How to approach a mentor

Do you know the story of puss in boots?

I won’t retell it all here, but the gist is that puss gets his owner, a poor and hopeless young man, in favor with the local king.

Puss does it by showing up to the king’s door over and over, bearing gifts. One time it’s a dead rabbit. Another time it’s some partridges.

“A gift from my master,” says puss in boots, “the Marquis of Carabas.”

And then one time, when the king is going for a friendly Saturday afternoon ride by the riverside, puss in boots makes it seem like the Marquis of Carabas is drowning there.

“Save that man tout suite,” the king orders, “for he is a gentleman who has sent me many fine gifts.”

And so the poor and hopeless young man is transformed into a real-life Marquis of Carabas, for a while at least.

I’m telling you this fairy tale because it has to do with cold emails. Specifically, emails (or LinkedIn messages, or Facebook, or whatever) that you might send to somebody that you hope will be your mentor.

It’s a good idea to approach your mentor bearing valuable gifts. After all, it worked so well for puss in boots. But a dead rabbit or a bunch of partridges don’t impress today like they did back in puss’s time.

So what can you do?

Well, you might try offering helpful tips… or ideas… or even your services for free. And I’m sure those things can all work on occasion.

But here’s a better approach. I heard about it today while listening to an interview with Steve Schwartzman, who happens to be one of the world’s 100 richest men, and also somebody who’s in charge of about half a trillion dollars’ worth of assets.

When asked what thing of value a poor and hopeless young man should give as a gift when approaching a powerful mentor, Schwartzman said:

“Well it’s interesting. One thing of value is flattery. People’s self-images are always unpredictable to the person who’s approaching them. And the fact that you’re approaching them helps them self-validate. The fact that you’ve thought about that person, and there’s something you do want to learn from them, there’s some piece of advice you want. All you have to do is say in effect, ‘I want to go on a journey. I want to change what I’m doing or i want to achieve something. You’ve done a bunch of that… Can you describe to me how you do that?'”

So there you go, young puss. Go out and flatter people.

Or rather, take an interest in what they are doing, and approach them with genuine interest and genuine compliments. Do it over and over. Next thing you know, you might be transformed into a real-life Marquis of Carabas.

Get yer own Falkor

One of my favorite books as a kid, and even now, is The Neverending Story.

If you’ve seen the Hollywood movie that was made from the book, you might know there’s a boy in there named Atreyu.

Atreyu lives in the great land of Fantastica, and he has to go on a quest all around the borders of this immense kingdom.

How’s a little boy gonna be able to cover these vast distances?

No problem. Atreyu hitches a ride on the back of Falkor, a benevolent, furry, white “luckdragon” who happens to fly at great speeds.

Now I think this is a good image to keep in mind in your own life as well.

Because as much as I like The Neverending Story, these days I like another book even better.

It’s called Positioning, and it’s written by Al Ries and Jack Trout.

Positioning is all about how to market products, and how to find a mental slot for them in your customer’s mind.

But one part of the book also talks about positioning yourself, and achieving personal success. And it’s here that Ries and Trout make a throwaway comment that I found very meaningful:

“The truth is the road to fame and fortune is rarely found within yourself. The only sure way to success is to find yourself a horse to ride. It may be difficult for the ego to accept, but success in life is based more on what others can do for you than on what you can do for yourself.”

Like I said, I found this very significant.

Maybe because my tendency is to try to always do everything by myself. It’s very natural to me. But it’s also very slow and ineffective.

So if you too have similar tendencies, then maybe you’ll get some value out of the Ries and Trout quote above.

And maybe you’ll consider finding yourself a horse to ride. Or even your own Falkor.

An inconvenient truth and goals

In a slap to avocado-munching environmentalists worldwide, a new study published in Nature reports an inconvenient truth:

Organic farming is worse for the environment.

Yes, organic practices reduce climate pollution caused directly by farming.

But they also reduce crop yields.

Which means more land has to be used to feed all the hungry mouths out there… which means more forests have to be cleared… which releases more carbon into the atmosphere… which is bad, bad news for those cliff-climbing walruses in the Arctic.

So will Greta Thunberg and her ilk finally start lobbying for heavier pesticide use?

Will they up their ingestion of GMOs to fight climate change?

Just my guess… but I think it’s unlikely.

I’m sure Greta will find a way to save the world, and all the people in it…

While still being strict and saintly about the food she puts into her own body.

In other words, she will continue to move toward her goal, while still staying true to her basic principles.

If that’s what she does, then good on ‘er.

I mean, I’m personally very callous about climate change. And I prefer my food as inorganic as can be. So it’s not like I’m personally invested in the outcome of resolving climate change while keeping our veggies and fruits “crunchy.”

I just feel that the basic recipe — keep moving forward, adjust when you realize you’re slightly off course — is the core of success in any field.

And you don’t have to take my word for it. Maxwell Maltz, who wrote the super influential self-help tome Psycho-Cybernetics, preached something similar:

“Your brain and nervous system constitute a goal-striving mechanism that operates automatically to achieve a certain goal, very much as a self-aiming torpedo or missile seeks out its target and steers its way to it. […] The torpedo accomplishes its goal by going forward, making errors, and continually correcting them. By a series of zigzags, it literally ‘gropes’ its way to the goal.”

Conclusion?

1. Have a clearly defined goal
2. Grope towards it
3. Allow your brain to correct course as needed

Simple? ​​Yes.

​But also your best bet for eventually getting to where you want to go — even if that goal is uncertain, complex, and has never been achieved before.