Copywriting

“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.

All that clients really want

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During a bus ride today between two Balkan superpowers, I was surprised to see the bus driver roll down his window, take out a pack of Marlboro’s, and light one. He smoked his cigarette and then tossed the butt out the window.

When a car on the road wasn’t driving fast enough, the bus driver started tailgating. He cursed and talked to himself at full volume. Once he could pass, he honked at the other car for five seconds to show his disgust.

But neither of those made me nervous. What did make me nervous was when the driver took out his phone and started texting at 60 mph. Every so often, he looked up to course correct as the bus listed on the highway to the left or the right.

And yet, nothing bad happened. No crash. No run-over animals or people. We even made it pretty much on time, after you factor in the extra half hour at the border for everyone to get corona throat-swabbed.

If I ever have to make the same trip again… I guess I might go with the same company. After all, they got me to my destination, and they got me there on time.

Maybe you see where this is going.

A couple days ago, I saw a question online about the “ideal copywriter.” If copywriting clients could create their ideal copywriting provider… how would that look?

This brought to mind something I heard A-list copywriter Parris Lampropoulos say. According to Parris, clients only want three things from a copywriter:

1. He should get results
2. He should deliver copy on time
3. He should be pleasant to work with

If you have all three of these, you’re golden. But two of the three is good enough, says Parris. You just gotta be “damn strong” in those other two.

“Sure,” your client might say, “he did come into our office cursing and smoking. He did insult the secretary and put out his cigarette on our carpet. But he also actually got us the copy in time… and it made us good money. I guess we will hire him again.”

Now if you don’t deliver your copy on time, I’m afraid I can’t help you.

But if all you’re missing is knowledge of how to get results with your copy, then my daily email newsletter might be what you need. It’s all about lessons in copywriting and persuasion, coming from legendary pros like Parris, filtered through my own experience. If you’d like to try it out, click here to sign up.

Beware “win-win-win”

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The hair stands up on the back of my neck whenever I hear the phrase “win-win-win.” And I’ve hearing it more and more often.

“It’s a real win-win-win situation…”​​

I guess that’s how markets evolve. First we had “win-win,” as in, “win-win negotiation.” Once that became old hat, marketers had to crank it up — hence the rise of “win-win-win.”

The reason I am wary of this phrase is because I’ve read Jim Camp’s negotiation book Start with No. And one of Camp’s big enemies is win-win. That’s just a clever name, Camp says, for fear- and compromise-based negotiation.

According to Camp, win-win negotiation is not principled… it’s not in your best interest… and if somebody is pushing it on you, you’re about to get flayed alive.

But maybe you think this is crazy. Maybe you think that “win-win” is great, and that “win-win-win” is even better. So here’s a quote by one very famous and successful copywriter, John Carlton:

Nearly every biz transaction is an inherently hostile situation.

Behind the smiles and back-slapping and promises of “working for the common good” between, say, a freelancer (or consultant) and a client…

… the freelancer actually wants to do as little work as possible for the maximum possible money…

… while the client wants to bleed every ounce of productivity from the writer for the least outlay of cash.

John uses the terms “veiled teeth-baring” and “primal snarling dance” to describe the reality of business interactions.

That’s certainly one way to do it. But I don’t think it’s the only way.

And if you want to know how to handle business situations in a way that’s neither snarling nor based in fear, then Camp’s book is worth a read. Or two. Or three.

Or you can just subscribe to my daily email newsletter. I’m no Jim Camp. But I’ve read his stuff, and it’s near to my heart. And while my newsletter is mainly about marketing and persuasions, sometimes I also write about the business of copy.

Maybe that doesn’t appeal to you. But in the odd case that it does, you can subscribe to get my emails by clicking here.

Heartbroken boy turns ecommerce vigilante

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“This dog seat belt was created by a grieving dog owner…
He was heartbroken after his best friend didn’t recover…
‘Rosco was in the back seat when we had a serious car crash’
So he decided to join a star product designer…
To create a revolutionary car safety device for dogs…
This is the story of Bruce Wayne and Lucius Fox”

A short while ago, I wrote about a Facebook ad format that’s working right now for selling ecommerce products.

The ad consists of stock footage video clips, overlaid with subtitles that tell a story.

But what story?

Well, for the stuff my client sells… it’s an, ahem, invented founder story. You can see the start of one above.

But here’s the thing. These are not just any founders. These are superhero founders. I mean that seriously.

For example, the ad above is channeling Batman — somebody with a crushing personal tragedy… delivering vigilante justice. (The real ad didn’t use Bruce Wayne as the name.)

I’ve also seen other advertisers channel:

1) Iron Man (“This Japanese billionaire marshaled his immense engineering skill and industrial resources to create a really comfortable pillow”)

2) Spider-Man (“This precocious-yet-typical teenager set out to save the world by inventing a silicone kitchen sponge”)

3) The Hulk (“This mild-mannered but brilliant scientist was transformed by an explosion and now MUST SMASH FREEZER BURN”)

My point is twofold:

First, if you’re selling stuff on Facebook, these superhero video ads are worth a try.

Second, whatever copy you’re writing (or having others write), it is always worth going back to story archetypes. ​​If a story template has proven itself decade after decade, century after century, odds are good you can use it to sell more dog seat belt – or whatever your vigilante justice leads you to sell.

Want more exciting coming book storylines for your marketing? You might like my daily email newsletter. Click here to subscribe.

You’ve been lied to

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You’ve been lied to — by every movie and every copywriting guru who ever caught your attention.

Let me explain.

Today I watched a Guy Ritchie movie about King Arthur. I was surprised to find I liked this movie… but I want to warn you about it nonetheless.

At the start of the movie there’s a montage as Arthur, orphaned, goes from a boy getting beaten up, living in a brothel… to a slightly older boy, still getting beaten up, still living in a brothel… to a young man, still living in a brothel but no longer getting beaten up… and finally to a full-grown man, muscular and handsome, who runs a criminal gang in medieval Londinium, while still living at a brothel.

The entire sequence takes maybe 45 seconds.

And that’s what I want to warn you about.

It’s not just this one movie. All movies, TV shows, documentaries, anything you see on a screen… they collapse our sense of time. And along with it, they collapse our expectations of the boredom, frustration, pain, and doubt we will experience during that time.

I bring this up because the past six months have been pretty wild for me and my copywriting career.

I’ve broken through long-standing earnings plateaus, and I’m finally earning the money that copywriting gurus promise is possible.

Potential clients now contact me each week — without my pitching them at all.

Even my daily emails are getting traction. A number of people wrote me over the past month to say they like and appreciate what I write… and some have even bought the little offers I put out.

But maybe you’re curious what happened six months ago to make my life so brag-worthy today.

The answer is nothing. At least as far as I can tell.

For years, I’ve been trying to do a good job each day, and to get better through practice and study. I guess my internal and external assets finally built up to some critical level, and results followed.

And if it’s starting to feel a little stuffy in this church…

Let me say I’m not trying to give you a sermon about hard work.

All I want to point out is that you’ve been lied to, by people who meant to lie to you, and by those who just wanted to entertain you.

Real life isn’t a montage. ​​There’s nothing wrong with you if you experience boredom, frustration, pain, and doubt on the way to accomplishing any goal.

Success requires time, effort, and patience. But that’s something nobody in the copywriting (or entertainment) world is selling.

So watch King Arthur. It’s a fun and inventive movie. But don’t believe it for a second — or 45.

Speaking of entertainment and lies:

If you are worried that you’ve reached the end of this post, you might like my daily email newsletter. To give it a try, click here.

The first millennial saint and the miracle of concreteness

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Carlo Acutis, born 1991, died 2006, was beatified today by the Catholic Church.

The next step is for Acutis to be made a saint — the first millennial saint, if God and Church will it.

So what’s the story?

Acutis lived a pretty holy life before dying of leukemia at age 15. He worked to help the poor… he defended the rights of the disabled… he documented Eucharistic miracles and used his programming skill to make a website that catalogued them.

But that’s not what got him beatified. Instead, it took a literal miracle.

As you might know, when the pharisees came to Jesus to ask for a sign of his divinity… Jesus scorned them and sent them away.

But the Catholic Church doesn’t operate like that.

The Catholic Church requires you to perform a documented miracle in order to be beatified… and two if you want to become a saint. (Acutis supposedly helped a Brazilian boy get healed of a pancreatic defect.)

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not here to harp on the Catholic Church or to nitpick whether they’re consistent with the words of Jesus.

I simply want to point out that if, like the Catholic Church, you want to appeal to everyone (and the Catholic Church does, it’s right there in the name)…

Then you can’t be as dismissive as Jesus was when people ask you for a sign.

Because the multitudes need miracles… they need signs… or if you want to put it into persuasion and influence terms, they need concreteness.

Listing logical reasons and abstract arguments… that’s hard to people to get a grasp on. But giving demonstrations, showing case studies, or just citing specifics… well, that can be miraculously persuasive.

Perhaps you find all this blasphemous. Perhaps you feel that not every decent human act needs to be a lesson about persuasion and manipulation. In that case, you definitely won’t be interested in my daily email newsletter.

On the other hand, if you were not offended by the discussion above and you want to get on that newsletter… then click here.

 

Confessions of a name-dropping titan

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“Bejako won’t be going on the field trip.”

It was my high school photography teacher, calling my mom on the phone. He was taking our photography class down to D.C. to visit some art gallery.

“Young Bejako is currently failing a class,” the teacher explained, “and unfortunately that means he can’t go on any school field trips.”

My mom turned white and looked at me.

“Which class is he failing?” she asked.

It was English. I was failing English in 11th grade. I hated everything they told me to do and I refused to do it.

Flash cards for notes? Outlines? Supporting quotes and references?

Hell no.

The irony is that, now that I’m finally out of the school system and its awful English classes, and now that I write for money, I voluntarily do all the things they once forced me to do.

I take notes and I write them up on flash cards. I spend most of my time on a project outlining. And I will refer to sources and references like crazy.

As for that last one, a reader named Robert wrote in yesterday to say:

“You sir, are a name-dropping titan. ‘Name-dropers’ are what copywriting and copywriters need. Knowing what material to listen to, read, watch, by who and who not… Man, that’s half the battle.”

Thing is, Robert actually jabbed me into a sore spot. Because I quote and refer to experts and authorities too much.

The reason I do it is that it’s a cheap way to get proof. For example, my recent book, The 10 Commandments of A-List Copywriters, gets its credibility from the names I drop therein.

But all that name-dropping doesn’t come without a cost. In fact the problem is twofold.

For one thing, there are other, more powerful ways to prove a point, such as illustrations, analogies, demonstrations, and case studies. And relying too much on authority means that I (and perhaps you) am not doing that work and getting the benefits of those more powerful modes of proof.

The second problem is more insidious.

And it’s that all this name-dropping means that I myself am not an authority. Not in my readers’ eyes necessarily, but in my own.

It’s what school tried to teach me, or beat into me, all those years ago. And that’s a shame.

And that’s basically the point I want to leave you with. Learning is great. But be careful not to become too reliant on authority opinion for your thoughts — which is what happens to me.

By the way, I’ve been reading an author who opened my eyes to this recently. I could point you to who he is… but just for today, I will hold off.

And if you want more of my ideas on copywriting, marketing, and learning — and occasional name dropping — you might like to sign up to my daily email newsletter.

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.