Copywriting

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

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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.

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A three-act election story

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I broke my long-standing rule of not reading the New York Times to bring you the following:

In Povalikhino, a tiny village in the Russian heartland, the incumbent mayor was running for re-election. But there was a problem:

He had no opposition candidate.

According to the NYT article, Russian elections always need an opposition candidate. That’s to make it appear fair, because the ruling party candidate always wins. Well, almost always.

In this case, the political machine went in search of a patsy to run against the mayor. They asked the local butcher, cobbler, and the high school chemistry teacher.

Nobody was willing to get roped in.

Fortunately, Marina Udgodskaya, the janitor at the mayor’s office, finally accepted the role of running against her own boss.

And she won. In a landslide.

Nobody’s quite sure where it all went wrong. But the fact is that the villagers of Povalikhino voted Udgodskaya into office. She now sits behind the mayor’s desk in the office she used to clean. She said her first priority will be to fix the public lighting in the village.

Meanwhile, the old mayor refuses to speak to the media. According to his wife, he never even wanted the job himself. He finds the topic of losing to the cleaning woman painful… and blames his wife. “You got me into this,” Mrs. Former Mayor reported her husband as saying.

I’m not sharing this story with you to illustrate the importance of voting. I’m of the school that voting doesn’t matter (well, unless you’re voting in a village of three hundred people).

Instead, I just thought this was a good story.

It’s got an Act 1, an Act 2, an Act 3. It’s got tension, drama, and surprise.

I bring this up because I often see people telling “stories” in copy that don’t have these basic elements.

“Mayor needs an opposition candidate, but cannot find one. The end.”

“Mayor needs an opposition candidate, gets a local lawyer to run against, and then the mayor wins as usual. The end.”

“Mayor needs an opposition candidate, which is how things go in Russia, for example this other time there was a second election and…”

Those are events, yes. But they are not stories — at least the kind that suck readers in and sell something.

Incidentally, if you want an education in how to write good stories in your copy… you can’t go wrong by reading the New York Times. Not for the facts. But to observe the outrage they evoke in their readers, and for the subtle sales techniques.

Or you can just sign up for my daily email newsletter. It’s not as outrageous as the New York Times. But it can teach you something about sales and storytelling. If you’re willing to take the risk, click here to subscribe.

Read this now because fake urgency

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“This offer will be taken down on Monday August 17.”

That was the threatening notice at the top of the video sales letter.

But it was already well into September. Some technical glitch made it so the page didn’t update to show the date of the upcoming deadline.

As you probably know, deadlines work. Bob Cialdini told us about urgency, but marketers knew about it for decades before.

Thing is, most deadlines are fabricated. Some are more fabricated than others — like the VSL I mentioned above.

I’m not sermonizing that you should only use “real” deadlines and real urgency. But sometimes it’s easy to do so, and it doesn’t require any tech wizardry.

For example, I once wrote a VSL for a kidney disease info product. Kidney disease is chronic, meaning it lasts a long time, and only gets worse.

So at the end of the VSL, I didn’t tell the reader this offer might soon disappear because powerful interests will force the FDA’s hand. Instead, I simply said the following:

But I want you to make this decision now.

You see, kidney disease is much easier to treat the earlier you start to do it.

It’s easier to treat in stage 2 than in stage 3, and it’s MUCH easier to treat in stage 4 than in stage 5.

Look, the information I’m sharing in [product name] will probably be mainstream advice 10 or 20 years in the future.

But you can’t wait for that.

Every day and every week counts, and the sooner you get going, the better your results will be and the better you will feel in the long run.

That’s why I offer this money-back guarantee, because I want you to give this a shot as soon as possible without any risk to you.

I’ve used this same urgency appeal successfully for other health offers, too.

And I think you can try the same argument — the longer you wait to fix this problem, the harder it will get, so why not take up this risk-free offer now — in any aware market. You might not make as many sales as with a fake deadline play… but the quality of the customers will probably be much better.

But here’s some real urgency:

I write a daily email newsletter. If you don’t sign up now, you won’t get today’s edition. That probably doesn’t bother you. But in case it does, click here to subscribe.

Bring out the T-Rex to persuade the unpersuadable

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Picture the following fantastical scene:

Venture capitalist John Hammond is having lunch with three scientists and one lawyer.

Behind Hammond, on the dining room walls, photos are flashing. They show different planned rides at Hammond’s future entertainment complex.

Hammond in opening a place called Jurassic Park. The three scientists are there to give their expert opinion on this project.

They have just seen their first live dinosaurs. It was an awe-inspiring experience.

So Hammond is expecting an enthusiastic endorsement. But then one of the scientists, a black-clad mathematician named Ian Malcolm, starts to speak.

“The lack of humility before nature that’s being displayed here staggers me,” Malcolm says. “Genetic power is the most awesome force the planet’s ever seen. But you wield it like a kid that’s found his dad’s gun.”

Malcolm goes on to explain the root cause of the problem. Success came too easy… Hammond put in no effort to make this achievement… and that’s why he gives no thought to responsibility or consequences.

The other two scientists carefully agree. Hammond, they believe, does not realize the risks he is dealing with.

So what do you think happens?

Does John Hammond say, “By Jove, I hadn’t thought of it like that. I’ll have to give this more thought. In the meantime, let’s put the opening of the park on hold.”

Of course not. You’ve probably seen the original Jurassic Park movie, from which this scene is taken.

What happens is that Hammond listens patiently. He’s a bit surprised the scientists are not on his side.

But no matter. With a chuckle, he shrugs off their warnings. And he sends them on a disastrous tour of the park.

If you’ve been reading my site for a while, you know I’ve written about the persuasive power of analogies and the problem mechanism.

Well you get both in the scene above. “Like a kid that’s found his dad’s gun” is the analogy… “Success came too easy” is the problem mechanism.

And yet, no change of heart.

Because to a person like Hammond, who’s set enough in his current ways of thinking… no argument will be persuasive.

So what can you do if it’s your job to persuade somebody like that?

Simple. But not easy.

You bring out the T-Rex.

After the T-Rex eats the lawyer… and the velociraptors almost eat everybody else… Hammond finally has his epiphany. His park might be a bad idea. Life will not be contained.

Perhaps you’re wondering what my point is. So let me close with the words of Claude Hopkins:

“No argument in the world can ever compare with one dramatic demonstration.”

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The less you write, the better your copy gets

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“You’re very good at writing in this conversational tone.”

I was getting some copy critiqued by a more experienced copywriter.

“Yeah, this opening story is great,” he said.

Fact is, i didn’t write any of it.

It was a story I found online. I cut it down, rearranged it a bit for emphasis, made it more readable. But most of the words were somebody else’s.

That’s because one of my mantras is that I should write as little copy as possible. The less I write, the better the final result tends to be.

That doesn’t mean to make my sales letters short.

It does mean that most of my copy, particularly the crucial bits like the lead and any stories inside, are not my own invention.

Instead, I dig them up online…

Or, if I have the luxury, I get them straight from the mouth of the guru behind the product, during an interview.

And that’s what I want to share with you today.

Because most people won’t give you the drama and the stories, even if you ask them nicely. They simply don’t understand what you’re after, or what makes for a good story or for exciting copy.

​​That’s why it’s your job to reach down their throat and pull that out.

It took me a while to get decent at doing so. I still mess up often. But I now have a bunch of little techniques I use now that help.

Such as the 3+ technique of negotiation coach Jim Camp. Camp advised covering each main point of a negotiation — or an interview — at least three separate times, using slightly different cues.

“So tell me about the time you first discovered this…”

“Let’s go back to time you first discovered this… where were you when it happened?”

“So wait. When you discovered this… what did you do right after?”

And like I said, I have a bunch of other little tricks. I even wrote them up once in a post on how to be a magnetic listener. If you want to see this post, so you can write write less copy… get better results… and have people like you better (because who doesn’t like a good listener)… then here’s the link:

https://bejakovic.com/10-steps-to-becoming-a-magnetic-listener/

A devious and cynical way to open up new markets

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“A woman’s arm! Poets have sung of it, great artists have painted its beauty. It should be the daintiest, sweetest thing in the world. And yet, unfortunately, it isn’t always.”

After James Webb Young wrote those lines in 1919, women in his social circle stopped talking to him.

Even his female copywriter colleagues gave him dirty looks.

Young was working for the J. Walter Thompson advertising agency. His task was to promote the first-ever antiperspirant, Odorono.

Young’s first crack at this account was a fairly standard ad. It attacked the popular belief that an antiperspirant is dangerous stuff.

Sales limped upwards, and then flattened.

A subsequent door-to-door survey revealed that women knew about Odorono. But only one third used it. Two thirds believed they didn’t need it.

So Young wrote another ad. The headline read, “Within The Curve of a Woman’s Arm.”

It was this ad that got him those dirty looks.

It also made Young’s career… it doubled sales of Odororno (which eventually became a million-dollar company, back in 1920s money)… and it made millions of women newly self-conscious.

The point of all this is the power of tying in what you’re selling to people’s insecurities.

Genuine insecurities.

Because today it’s enough to say, “Bad BO?”

But back in 1920, you couldn’t do that. Women smell-tested themselves. They smelled fine.

That’s why Young had to create a problem. He took the idea of perspiration… and he tied it to being undesirable — and clueless about it.

Devious? Yes.

Cynical? Absolutely.

Profitable? Like a mother.

And something to keep in mind, if you too are in the business of opening new markets.

(By the way, in case you think this is another example of horrible double standards for women… Men got their own deodorant, starting in 1935. Before then, man-musk was considered a good thing. So how did advertisers sell the American man on demusking himself? They did the same damn thing. They tied it to the possibility of stinking up the office… and the emasculation of being fired.)

One final point:

If you like cynical and devious ideas, you might like my daily email newsletter. Click here to subscribe.

How to write slowly

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“In ten hours a day you have time to fall twice as far behind your commitments as in five hours a day.”
— Isaac Asimov

It took me about two hours to finish this post.

I didn’t spend most of that time writing. Instead, I looked over notes for topics I meant to cover but didn’t… I read articles searching for inspiration… I picked up and then put down a book.

The trouble of course was that I had a large block of free time today.

I finished with client work some time earlier… I have a client call later tonight. In between, the only thing I have to do is to write this daily post.

Hence, two hours. To write about 300 words. You might know this as Parkinson’s Law:

“Work expands so as to fill the time available for its completion.”

It’s a problem in my life. And it’s one of the reasons I’ve decided to overbook myself with work — about three times the usual amount — for the coming month.

Because according to marketer Ben Settle, writing lots of words under intense deadline pressure will make you a faster writer. Permanently.

I’ll let you know how it works out. (Although there’s no need to wait for me. It’s something you can try yourself right now.)

Anyways, I’ve long collected copywriters’ advice on how to write faster.

So far, I’ve got direct “how to write fast” tips from Ben Settle (above), Dan Ferrari, David Deutsch, Colin Theriot, and a few others. I’ve also connected some ideas I read from people like Gary Halbert and Gary Bencivenga to the topic of writing faster.

So here’s my offer:

If these tips interest you, sign up for my daily email newsletter. If I share this complete collection of tips, that’s the first place it will go.

“Reach the maximum limits of your full potential market”

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“This is exactly how I ended up having to get stitches for the first and only time in my life.”

This spring, I had to sell a knife-sharpening gizmo. It was faster, cheaper, and easier to use than a whetstone.

But who cares?

There’s tiny demand for knife-sharpening gizmos of any kind, and it’s unlikely that many people will be swayed by a feature comparison.

What I needed to do was to expand the universe… to take it out of the small space of people who are looking for a better (or any) knife sharpener… and into the much bigger world of people who use kitchen knives but never give a thought to sharpening them.

So what to do?

I ended up telling a story involving a dull chef’s knife, a green bell pepper, and a cut that required four stitches. I created a problem in the reader’s mind where there wasn’t one.

“Dull knife? Yeah, I really don’t care.”

“Sliced-open finger? Geez, what can I do to make sure this won’t happen to me?”

In general, you don’t want to sell to people who are indifferent to the problem you claim to solve.

The only reason you ever would want to do this… is because you are very greedy. Because in most markets, the segment of indifferent prospects dwarfs the knife-sharpener connoisseurs. As Gene Schwartz wrote in Breakthrough Advertising:

“What do you have left [after you can’t talk about your product]? Your market, of course! And the distinct possibility that by broadening your appeal beyond price, product function or specific desire, you can reach the maximum limits of your full potential market; consolidate splinter appeals; and increase the sales of your product at a fantastic rate.”

That’s all on the topic of indifference for today…

Except, I want to ask if you consider yourself a marketing high-flier?

Because a lot of marketing high-fliers are joining my email newsletter these days. If you want to find out why, click here and try it for yourself.

Lost in translation

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“You can no longer function as a man.”

“When I came in to open up one morning, there you were, with your head half in the toilet. Your hair was in the toilet water. Disgusting.”

“You’re weak, you’re out of control, and you’ve become an embarrassment to yourself and everybody else.”

These are some of the great lines from a drug intervention scene in The Sopranos. Soon after that last line, a fight breaks out, and the interventionists end up kicking the drug addict in the ribs while he’s on the ground.

Of course, that’s not how an intervention is supposed to go.

The theory is that, when one person tries to persuade you, there’s always a translation problem. In other words, your brain is always asking:

“What is this goon really trying to say, and why is he saying it to me?”

That’s why interventions are supposed to work. Multiple people, shouting the same message, make it more likely that the message will get through.

But what if you don’t have the luxury of marshaling multiple people to kick your prospect in the ribs?

What if you only get one kick? How do you convince somebody who’s perfectly ok as is… that he’s got a problem and it’s time to get help?

I’ve got some ideas about this. In fact, I’ve shared them in previous editions of my daily newsletter. Ideas such as:

A) Showing your prospect how his indifference is not really his choice.

B) Using open-ended questions to get your prospect to paint a vision of his own horrible future for himself.

C) Working backwards from an outcome your prospect wants to avoid (that HE wants – not that you think he should want), and showing him why he’s currently headed there.

But I’m a sucker for lost causes, and that includes convincing people who don’t want to be convinced. And I’m always looking for more ways to get around the translation problem.

If this is something that interests you… and you want a report on what I find… you can sign up for my daily email newsletter by clicking here.

Woody Allen and Mark Ford walk into a library together…

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“I don’t enjoy reading,” Woody Allen said once in an interview. “But it’s necessary for a writer, so I have to do it.”

Preach, Woody.

I’ve always found reading is one of those things I do out of responsibility, not enjoyment.

But do you really have to read to be a successful writer? Or at least a successful copywriter?

I don’t know. But I heard two expert copywriters talking today. And their opinion seems to be yes.

The two copywriters in question were John Forde and Mark Ford. You might know them as the two guys who wrote the book Great Leads, which is up there with Cialdini’s Influence and Gene Schwartz’s Breakthrough Advertising as elementary education for a copywriter.

So John asked Mark, where do you get your big ideas from?

Reading, said Mark.

Not by swiping what worked before. Not by intuition. Not by some magic spark of creativity.

Instead, Mark reads. And when something makes him excited and interested, he takes note, and he uses that idea, in some form, in his own writing.

Which might sound pretty simple. Or even cheap. But hold on. Because here’s a second tip from the same interview:

Mark says Googled reading won’t lead you to a big idea. You’ve got to read books.

Yes, it’s work. Maybe even unenjoyable work. But so what? Read lots of books, carefully, and you can make lots of money as a result. And as Woody Allen will tell you:

“Money is not everything, but it is better than having one’s health.”

But here’s what not to do:

Don’t read my daily email newsletter. It won’t lead to your next big idea. And it’s not enjoyable.

If you don’t believe me, or you want to judge for yourself what my daily emails are like, then click here.