Copywriting

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

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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

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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

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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.

Chicken soup for the marketer’s, copywriter’s, and salesman’s soul

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“In this traffic, all these vehicles stopped and idling in my way, it’s not impossible that some of these people in SUV’s have been in horrible auto accidents in the past, and now find driving so terrifying that their therapist has all but ordered them to get a huge, heavy SUV so they can feel safe enough to drive. Or that the Hummer that just cut me off is maybe being driven by a father whose little child is hurt or sick in the seat next to him, and he’s trying to get this kid to the hospital, and he’s in a bigger, more legitimate hurry than I am: it is actually I who am in HIS way.”

The above quote is from David Foster Wallace, from his famous “This is Water” commencement speech at Kenyon College.

At some point in your life, you’ve probably either heard this exact quote on something very much like it. It’s basically cognitive behavioral therapy:

1. You only ever have a few pixels of evidence about what’s “really” going on.

2. Those pixels can fit into multiple consistent pictures.

3. Some of those pictures are more pleasant and useful for you to look at than others.

4. So you might as well focus on the useful and the pleasant pictures.

Pretty good advice, right?

Except, I happen to be professionally warped through my work as a direct response copywriter.

And so, while most people might see a healthy life lesson above, I see a sales technique.

A couple days ago, I talked about Sam Taggart, the door-to-door salesman profiled in a New Yorker article.

I showed you one way that Taggart deals with objections. But here’s another way, from the article:

Usually, once the customer realizes she’s being pitched, she’ll say anything to make the salesman go. When I canvassed with Taggart, I often felt anxious: They really want us to leave! But he interpreted every objection as an appeal for further information. He heard “I can’t afford it” as “Show me how I can afford it,” and “I already have a gun and a mean dog” as “What else do I need to fully protect my family?”

Taggart always takes objections as a request for more info, and questions as a sign of interest.

And why not?

Like DFW says above, it’s not impossible. In fact, in at least some situations, it’s exactly what’s happening.

When a potential customer or client asks you an accusatory question, or when they raise an insurmountable objection, those are just air bubbles on the surface of the ocean. You don’t really know what’s going on underneath the surface to produce those bubbles. So you might as well imagine a colorful and fun underwater party, populated by singing crabs and smiling tropical fish who really want you to succeed. “Darling it’s better down where it’s wetter, take it from meeeee…”

Anyways, the New Yorker profile of Sam Taggart doesn’t paint a very flattering picture of the guy. But that’s mainly New Yorker propaganda. And in any case, there’s a lot of value in that article, if you only, as they say, read between the lines.

I might write about some of that valuable stuff in the future. If you want to catch that when it comes out, sign up to my daily email newsletter.

There will never be a moment as perfect as right now to read this email

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I recently got a print subscription to the New Yorker so I can sit on the balcony in the morning and read a few pages of well-written fluff about something totally random.

I like the New Yorker because it exposes me to topics outside my usual horse-blindered view of copy, marketing, and influence.

Except, the article I’m reading right now is square in the center of my horse blinders. It’s about Sam Taggart, a new prophet of door-to-door sales.

I’ve never done door-to-door selling myself, but the techniques of the work are near and dear to me. For example:

The New Yorker article reports how one day, Taggart went a-selling solar panels in Salt Lake City.

He approached a house, and stood away from the porch as a woman opened the door.

Taggart adopted a matter-of-fact contractor’s tone when talking. For a bit, this made the woman believe he was somehow with the utilities company. Once it became clear Taggart was selling solar panels, the woman locked up:

“My husband won’t do it, because we’re faced the wrong way.”

Taggart had a very clever and calculated response to this. It immediately made me sit up and pay attention, because it sounded very familiar. From the article:

“Here’s the thing,” Taggart said. He leaned against the doorway, and the woman leaned against its opposite side — a signal that she felt more comfortable. “What’s your name?”

“Kay.”

“Every kiss begins with ‘K’!” They both laughed. “So, actually, your house is perfect for it!” He hadn’t even glanced at her roof.

Like I said, this technique was very familiar to me.

It might be used in D2D sales, but it is also used in copywriting and marketing.

I’ve heard Dan Kennedy preach it. And when I was in Dan Ferrari’s coaching group, Dan F. even had a very concise name for it which has stuck with me since. In fact, Dan uses this technique not just as a way of handling objections, but more generally, as a way of organizing and structuring his promos.

And now, since it so happens that the Pisuerga flows through Valladolid, I’d like to tell you that I’ve been thinking about podcasts lately.

Specifically, I’ve been thinking about getting onto some podcasts. I got on a couple last year, and gave me a lot of exposure and attention. I also have plans to get on another podcast in a few weeks’ time. But after that, what? I feel podcasts are something I should be doing more regularly, and not just once or twice a year.

So I’ve got an offer for you:

Maybe it’s 100% clear to you what Sam Taggart’s technique above is.

Maybe it’s also 100% clear to you how to use this at the low-level of your copy… or, like Dan Ferrari, even to organize your entire promo.

But if you’re not 100% sure, if you’re more like 98% or 97% sure, or even less, then get onto my email newsletter. When you get my welcome email, hit reply. And let me know the most recent podcast episode you listened to.

Just tell me one. The most recent one.

And if it has nothing to do with copy or marketing, that’s perfectly fine. Don’t lie to me and say you’ve been listening to David Garfinkel if you haven’t. There’s no need to. I want to genuinely know the most recent podcast you listened to, whatever that may be.

And in return:

I will spell out Taggart’s technique above. And I will tell you what Dan Kennedy and Dan Ferrari have to say about the same, and how they use it in their marketing and copy.

Are you game? Then do it now.

It’s the perfect moment while it’s still fresh on your mind. It will only take you a second, and you will avoid the risk that you put it aside for a minute and forget about it among all the distractions of the Internet. Here’s where to get started.

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

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Yesterday evening, I got an odd email from a reader. The subject line read:

“About your email subject lines”

There was nothing in the body of the email. There was just an attached file, “7 Tested and Proven Email Subject Lines that Get Your Emails Opened.” Among them:

1. How to survive _____
2. The biggest mistake _____ make
3. The fastest way to ______

I have this Chateau Heartiste policy of keeping my replies to readers no longer than what the reader wrote me. And since this reader didn’t even include a hello, I couldn’t, according to my policy, reply to ask him why he was sending me this guide to subject lines.

Was he displeased with my subject lines in general?

​​Was he impressed with my subject line yesterday? ​​Did he think it fit one of these molds in some way?

​​I guess I’ll never know.

But since this reader did send me tested and proven subject line ideas, I squeezed a bunch of them into my subject line today.

After all, why not? I don’t think it will make a molehill of difference. Here’s a story on that matter:

Last year, I wrote an email with the subject line, “More real than real.” That email was about some slightly esoteric stuff. I purposefully didn’t want a DR-style subject line for it, one that might attract the wrong kind of attention.

A bunch of people wrote in response to that email to tell me how much they liked the story and the lesson I was sharing.

I also got a response from a smart and successful marketer. He warned me that he almost missed my email, which he thought was valuable once he read it, because my subject line didn’t catch his eye at all. He even rewrote my subject line to show me how it’s done.

And then, the next week, he wrote in with a similar message, again pointing out that my subject line is suboptimal and that he almost missed another valuable email from me. As far as I can tell, he continues to read my emails to this day.

I am not pointing fingers or making fun of anybody.​ I’m just pointing a finger at something obvious:

A lot of standard copywriting wisdom, which was extracted from cold-traffic tests, isn’t particularly relevant to warm daily emails, which people mainly open because they’ve learned that you have something fun or interesting to say. In warm emails, the “headline” is really your name, and not your subject line.

Maybe you say I can be cavalier about this, because I still don’t sell regularly in this email newsletter, and I certainly don’t A/B test my subject lines here.

Fine.

But I have been in situations where I was actively selling in email, and where I was actively testing. I’ve managed two 70,000-person email lists, which were made up of buyers, and which produced millions of dollars of sales, thanks to emails I wrote. And yes, thanks to subject lines I wrote.

And you know what?

I once ran a little test to find out how our email open rates influenced our sales.

​​Result?

Experts were shocked. Literally. I mean, I, an email marketing expert, was shocked.

And that’s why I want to warn you about the biggest mistake that email marketers make when it comes to subject lines. And that’s to follow “Tested and proven subject lines that get your emails OPENED.” If you want to read the real secret of why this is a big problem, here’s the fastest way to do that:

https://bejakovic.com/why-ecommerce-list-owners-should-beware-high-open-rates/

I just remembered Cialdini’s best way to teach anybody anything

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I’ve just awakened from a hypnotic trance.

I spent the last 16 minutes watching a video of a fridge repairman from Alabama disassembling a failed fridge compressor.

As my hypnotic trance cleared, I began to marvel at this mystery.

After all, I don’t have a fridge compressor to fix. And I’m not looking for DIY advice.

In fact, I have zero interest in fridges or handymanism. I wasn’t familiar with 95% of the technical terms the fridge guy was using. I really could gain nothing practical or pleasurable from his 16-minute video.

So why did I watch it, with rapt attention, from beginning to end?

Perhaps, you say, I was just looking to waste time instead of writing this email.

I certainly do like to waste time instead of working. But why not waste time doing something I like, like reading the New Yorker, or watching some Bill Burr on YouTube?

No, it wasn’t that.

But perhaps, you say again, I just enjoy feeling smug and right.

After all, the dead fridge compressor was from 2009. And the fridge repair guy specializes in maintaining long-running, old fridges that go back to the 1940s. So maybe I was just looking for confirmation of my belief that old is good and new is worthless.

Maybe. But if that’s the case, why did I have to watch the video, and all 16 minutes of it? I mean, the video’s title gave me all I really needed to feel smug:

“Declining quality of consumer-grade products – 2009 fridge compressor autopsy…”

So no, it can’t be that.

But perhaps I just wanted to share something cool with a friend.

Even though I have no interest in handymanism, I do have a friend who is into it. I wanted to forward him this video, and maybe, you say, I just wanted to make sure it was worthwhile.

But that doesn’t hold water either. After all, this video popped up on a news aggregator I frequent, where it got 2-3x the usual number of upvotes. That’s a lot of tacit endorsement of quality. And I could tell within just the first minute or two that my friend might find this video interesting, and that I should send him the link.

So why did I myself watch the entire thing?

In trying to figure out the answer to this puzzle, I jumped back to a critical point in the video at minute 5:54.

The fridge guy has just tested whether the compressor failed because of electrical failure. No, it turns out, it wasn’t electrical.

So he decides to cut open the locked-up compressor and see what’s going on inside. As soon as he cuts the compressor open, the motor moves freely, and is no longer locked up.

The fridge guy is in wonder.

“I don’t understand at all,” he says. He decides to try to power the compressor up again. “My guess is it still won’t start.”

“Aha!” I said. “I get it now!”

Because I realized what was going on. I realized why I had been sucked into this video so hypnotically.

It was the structure of the way the fridge guy was doing his compressor autopsy.

He was using the exact same structure I read about once. A very smart and influential professor of persuasion spelled out this structure in a book, and he said it’s the best way to present any new information and teach anyone anything.

I don’t know if the fridge repair guy had been secretly reading the work of this professor of persuasion.

But I do know that if you’re trying to teach anybody anything, whether in person, in your courses, or just in your marketing, then this structure is super valuable.

It makes it so people actually want to consume your material. They will even want to consume it all the way to the end (just look at me and that 16-minute fridge video).

This structure also makes it so the info you are teaching sticks in people’s heads. That way, they are more likely to use it, profit from it, and become grateful students and customers for life.

And this structure even makes it so people experience an “Aha moment,” just like I did. When that happens, people feel compelled to share their enthusiasm with others, just like I am doing now with you right now.

You might be curious about this structure and who this professor of persuasion is.

Well, I will tell you the guy’s name is Robert Cialdini. He is famous for writing the book Influence. But the structure I’m talking about is not described in Influence.

Instead, it’s described in another of Cialdini’s books, Pre-Suasion.

Now, if you read Daniel Throssell’s emails, you might know that Daniel advises people to skip Pre-Suasion. He even calls it the worst copywriting book he has ever read.

I don’t agree.

Because in Chapter 6 of Pre-Suasion, Cialdini spells out the exact structure I’ve been telling you about. Plus he gives you an example from his own teaching.

This is some hard-core how-to. ​And if you ever want to get information into people’s heads, and make it stick there, for their benefit as well as your own, you might find this how-to information very valuable.

In case you want it:

https://bejakovic.com/presuasion

How I might repurpose this email

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I don’t watch a lot of movies that have come out in the past 30 years, but when I do watch ’em, I like the ones that are low-brow.

For example, I loved Knocked Up.

Knocked Up is a Judd Apatow comedy in which a bunch of aimless bros are working to launch fleshofthestars.com. That’s a website where you can go look up the exact timestamp when different Hollywood stars appear naked in a movie. Presumably, so you can go and see your favorite actress’s nipples for a fraction of a second.

Knocked Up came out in 2007. Boy, how the world has changed in just those 15 years.

For example, this morning I found out that something like the reverse of fleshofthestars.com exists today.

It’s called Unconsenting Media. It’s a website that allows you to look up which movies feature which type of sexual assault. Presumably, so you can avoid watching the movie and being traumatized or re-traumatized.

And it’s not just for humans and sex.

Another modern site, Does The Dog Die, tracks movies in which, as you might guess, the dog dies. Enough people find such movies traumatic that Does The Dog Die gets an estimated 414,000+ visitors each month in an attempt to avoid dog-dying movies.

And now, you’re probably looking at me through the screen expectantly.

“Ok that’s kind of curious,” you’re probably saying. “So what exactly is your point with the above?”

To tell you the whole truth and a few things besides the truth, there is no point. That’s because I already had a fixed idea in mind today, a valuable point I wanted to share with you. And it’s something completely unrelated:

Reuse work you do.

It’s hard to get rich if you are creating one-off custom work, unless you are Pablo Picasso.

Likewise, it’s hard to get productive if, say, you spend hours researching and then writing an email, which is consumed in just a minute or two by your readers, and then you throw it away and start all over the next day.

But the trouble is, it usually takes me a lot of time and effort just to present a valuable idea in an appealing and surprising way.

​​Sometimes, like today, I fail at even that. Sometimes I can’t connect the fun/new/interesting thing I want to tell you, with the valuable point I want to make.

So if on top of that, I add in the requirement to create something which I can reuse… well, I often get completely locked up before I even write anything.

The good news is, the two parts of “info” and “tainment” don’t really need to be tightly linked.

And more good news:

​Content doesn’t have to created with reuse in mind… in order to be reusable. So, you could say that my point today is really:

Do work you can reuse, and reuse work you have done.

That’s what I did with my 10 Commandments book a couple years ago. Some of the book was repurposed content I had written already for this newsletter, with the book in mind.

But some of the book was entirely new. Still, I repurposed it later for this newsletter. For example, I reused Commandment III within a daily email a few days ago. To which a reader named Phil Butler wrote in to say:

===

Hey John,

I bought and read your book last night.

It’s a great read, and this commandment was by far my favourite. Although I’ve heard it a million times before, it didn’t click properly until I read your IOU analogy.

Thanks a ton…

Best $4 I’ve spent in ages.

===

The fact is, I’ve used and reused the content from this book so much that, if you have the time and energy, you can search around my newsletter archive on my website, and you will be able to piece together almost all my 10 Commandments book.

Or, if you have $4.99, you can find the whole collection packaged up beautifully for you at the link below. Some people say it’s a great read. In case you’re curious:

https://bejakovic.com/10commandments

I’ve decided to let Adam Neumann act as my personal advisor on all personal branding and positioning matters

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A few weeks ago, a friend clued me into an amusingly shocking fact:

Adam Neumann is back.

You might remember Neumann as the former CEO of WeWork. ​​Handsome, charismatic, and prophet-like, Neumann built a $40-billion company, only to have it all crash down as the WeWork IPO failed. ​​In the wake of that, news reports exposed WeWork’s flimsy business model and the cult-like culture that fluffed it up for investors.

After Neumann was forced out as CEO, he was disgraced in the media as a grifter, hype artist, and woo-woo crackpot whose delusional self-belief infected others. “Serves you right for getting so big so fast,” cackled the little men at the Wall Street Journal and Vanity Fair, “you’ll never work in this town again!”

Well, like I said, Neumann is back. Is it really any surprise?

He now has a new company, something to do with climate and crypto. He has raised $70 million for it already.

Will this new MacGuffin turn into another multi-billion-dollar venture?

Maybe it will. Maybe it won’t. One thing is for sure:

Adam Neumann does some very important things very right.

For example:

Steve Jobs biographer Walter Isaacson once said that Neumann reminded him of Jobs. Some time later, Neumann claimed that Isaacson might write his biography. (Isaacson apparently never considered writing such a book.)

Another example:

Jamie Dimon, the billionaire CEO of JP Morgan Chase, lead a round of investment into WeWork. As a result, Neumann called Dimon his own “personal banker” and said Dimon might leave JPMorgan to run Neumann’s family investment office one day. (Dimon apparently never had any plans to leave JPMorgan.)

You might think these are examples of braggartly and grasping status-building. But I think it goes much deeper than that. I will have more to say about it, and probably soon.

For now, I’d like to announce that I’ve decided to allow Adam Neumann to act as my personal advisor on all matters personal branding and positioning. I respect Adam’s skills and instincts within this sphere. And I always look to surround myself with the best advisors, associates, and underlings. Adam is definitely fit to be among my inner circle.

It might take a bit of time for word to reach Adam that I have decided to let him become a trusted advisor to me.

In the meantime, I will continue to offer you the chance to transform your own business through my consulting service.

Once Adam joins my team, I might raise my consulting rate to $100k/hr and a 20% stake of your business. Or I might just drop the consulting and focus on my own more lucrative projects. We will see what input Adam has to give me on the matter.

For now though, you have the opportunity to have me help you elevate your offer, wow your clients and customers, and even position yourself as a prophet in your industry. In case you want a piece of the action:

https://bejakovic.com/consulting

On writing badly

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“Don’t fight such a current if it feels right. Trust your material if it’s taking you into terrain you didn’t intend to enter but where the vibrations are good. Adjust your style accordingly and proceed to whatever destination you reach. Don’t become a prisoner of a preconceived plan. Writing is no respecter of blueprints.”

I’m re-reading William Zinsser’s book On Writing Well. I don’t like this book. I have several reasons why, but one is that I don’t like the style.

The passage above is one example. It comes from a chapter on “unity.” That’s what Zinsser calls being consistent with your pronouns, your tense, and your mood. But…

It seems no one told William Zinsser about being consistent with your imagery. So in the passage above, the reader is first floating on a body of water (current). Then he’s on hard land (terrain) or perhaps a volcano (vibrations). Suddenly, he seems to be in trouble with the law (a prisoner) and finally he’s building a house (blueprints).

My point is that a lot of the “rules” of writing well, even by supposed authorities like Zinsser, don’t mean much. A good writer can break these rules. So can a mediocre writer.

My advice, in case you want it, is to not worry about the rules of “good” writing. Instead, spend your energy on looking for something new or unique to say. And if you don’t know where to find such stuff, then start with what’s already been written by others — “On Writing Well” — and turn it on its head.

At least that’s what I do. Each day, I write a few hundred words like this. My goal is to say something new or unique about writing, persuasion, and marketing.

I’ve got an email newsletter where I publish these daily essays. In case the vibrations are good and you want to reach the destination of being subscribed to this newsletter, then click here and float down the current it leads you to.