Copywriting

Sweet inconsistency in copywriting education

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“The most important thing — you can know every copywriting technique in the book, you can read every book — the most important thing is to understand your audience.”
– Parris Lampropoulos

At the start of this year, I got a job to rewrite a VSL for an upsell of a successful offer.

A bit of background:

The offer was in the real estate investing space. It basically showed newbie investors how to get their leads for free using a secret resource.

​​Once people bought the frontend offer, they were shown the upsell. The upsell was about how to hire virtual assistants to automate much of the work involved in the frontend offer… so you can make more money in less time.

The question was how to position this upsell VSL.

My copywriting coach at the time said something like, “This training is the quickest way to become a millionaire real estate investor.”

That might be true. But my feeling was, for this audience, it was not believable. Most of these people had never even completed their first deal. Lots of them were retirees, or people who just wanted to quit their crap jobs and spend more time at home.

If these folks heard “You can be a millionaire,” my gut feeling was they would say, “No, that’s not me.”

And so I wrote that VSL around the promise of, “Get your first deal faster by doing less.” And that positioning turned out to be a winner. It beat out the control by 50%.

Here’s why I bring up this story from my client annals:

Copywriting wisdom is full of sweet inconsistency. Many top copywriters will tell you to make the biggest promise you can — and they will show you million-dollar ads to back up their case. Here’s a famous one from John Carlton:

“Amazing Secret Discovered By One-Legged Golfer Adds 50 Yards To Your Drives, Eliminates Hooks And Slices… And Can Slash Up To 10 Strokes From Your Game Almost Overnight”

But then you have other top copywriters, who will tell you the opposite — to make modest but believable promises. They will also show you successful ads to back up their case. Here’s one from Gary Bencivenga:

“Get Rich Slowly”

So who’s right? The “biggers” or the “modests”?

Neither, of course. Instead, it’s Parris who’s right.

As he says in the quote above, you’ve got to know your audience. Some audiences will believe any promise, so the larger it is, the better for you. Other audiences won’t. So make the biggest promise you can — as long as you’re sure your audience will find it believable.

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Making missed opportunities hurt

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I’m at the seaside for a few days. Last night, after the fortieth glass of aperol, the decision was made to go for an “early-morning swim” today.

Today however, thanks to that same aperol, morning came later than usual. And then there was breakfast and some packing and a bit of standing around on the balcony. The early-morning swim plans turned into mid-day swim plans.

And then it started to rain. There would be no swimming after all.

Typical. At least in my life. Because in my experience, you can screw up in two ways:

You can take action and do something dumb… or you can not take action and miss an opportunity.

I’ve noticed in my own life that I’m much more likely to not take action, just like this morning, than to get overeager and get into trouble.

And I guess I am not the only one.

I read in Daniel Kahmenan’s Thinking Fast and Slow that we humans have a reliable bias in this direction.

It’s not just laziness.

But somewhere deep down in our monkey and lizard brains, we believe we will regret a mistake much more if we actively did something to bring it about… rather than if we just sat by, staring out the window, watching the clouds gather.

If Kahneman is right — and why wouldn’t he be, the guy’s got a Nobel Prize after all — then it’s another notch in favor of writing over-the-top, emotionally supercharged, manipulative sales copy.

Because sales copy, in spite of what many people will tell you, is not just like an ordinary conversation. You can’t just present a sober, reasoned argument and have people jumping out of bed.

Instead, you’ve got to create such desperation and fury in your prospect’s mind not only to overcome his natural laziness… but to overcome his fear of trudging all the way down to the beach, and then getting drenched in ice-cold rain. That’s gonna take some hyperbole. It’s gonna take some drama.

Finally, here’s a vision I want to paint in your mind:

I have an email newsletter. Each day I write a short email about copywriting and marketing lessons I’m learning.

If you like, you can sign up for the newsletter here. Or you can just wait. The opportunity will still be there tomorrow. And the day after. And the day after that.

The unmasking of a copywriting replicant

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“You remember when you were six, you and your brother snuck into an empty building through a basement window, you were gonna play doctor? He showed you his. When it got to be your turn, you chickened out and then ran. Remember that? Did you ever tell anybody that?”

I had a Blade Runner moment a few days ago.

I was watching an episode of The Copywriters Podcast and vague suspicions started bubbling up in my mind.

I realized many of my own ideas, my memories, the advice I keep peddling to others… I realized they’re not my own.

Instead, the guy on this interview, a successful copywriter, well, somehow his ideas seeped into my mind and had influenced a lot of how I write copy, specifically those cold-traffic advertorials I’ve done a million of for the past few years.

The thing is, this copywriter doesn’t have a book or a course for sale, as least as far as I know.

Instead, all those replicant memories in my head got there after I studied a few of his sales letters, along with snippets of his ideas that appeared online.

To make things worse, The Copywriters Podcast interview wasn’t very insightful. Too much David Garfinkel, too little of this original copywriter.

But I just went online. And I found a presentation this copywriter made about 8 years ago. I watched it. My Blade Runner moment intensified. It’s unsettling. But I wouldn’t undo it if I could, because this presentation (short by the way, only about 20 mins) is so full of valuable copywriting platinum and gold.

Maybe this doesn’t mean anything to you. But maybe, if you write copy, particularly for cold traffic, you want to know who this copywriter is.

But that particular bit of incriminating information is something I only revealed to people who were subscribed to my daily email newsletter. In case you want to get on that newsletter, so you don’t miss out on any of my future unmaskings, click here.

Don’t burden busy business owners with your vague help

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A few weeks ago, a former client named Patrick sent a couple referrals my way. One of those turned into a largish project, the other might turn into something down the line.

So this week, I wrote to Patrick to say thanks. I also wrote that, if he wants, I would write some new headlines for a VSL he’s running that he could test against his control. (I’ve done this before for him as part of a project, and it had a big effect.) I offered to do this for free — just as a way of saying thanks for the referrals.

Patrick said great, and sent me a VSL that’s doing well and that he wanted to test new headlines on. I watched the VSL… wrote up a couple new headlines… sent it back to Patrick… and it’s getting tested now.

“Thanks for this,” Patrick said at the end, “and I’ll keep you in mind for future copywriting work.”

Contrary to what you might think, this email is not about greasing the groove of those client relationships with bottles of wine and fruit baskets.

Instead, I want to point out something else that can help you get work and form better relationships:

Business owners are busy. So when you make a proposal to them, be specific.

That’s why I wrote Patrick and said, “Do you want me to rewrite a headline for you as a way of saying thanks?” I didn’t write him and say, “If there’s anything I can do to say thanks, let me know.”

Don’t count on busy people to spend time and mental effort thinking about how to do business with you. Instead, put in a bit of time and thought yourself, and make a specific proposal to them.

Maybe they will take you up on your proposal… or maybe it will jog another idea in their mind that works better for them. Either way, I think your chances of making a connection jump up about a million-fold, compared to counting on them to do the work.

​​And by the way, I think this same “specific” approach is the way to go when contacting people who could be your personal mentors.

All right, enough traipsing down client lane for today.

If you want more of my ideas for how to deal with copywriting clients, you might like my daily email newsletter.

Going back to the Mark Ford well and pulling up a goldfish

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Over and over in these emails I’ve cited a quote made by entrepreneur and copywriter Mark Ford:

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

I’ve used this quote to talk about the trouble with marketing secrets, about A-list copywriting wisdom, and even about Tim Ferris’s 4-Hour Work Week. And why not? I think the quote itself vindicates that I keep going back to the same well.

So here I am again, dropping the bucket in, and coming up with a little goldfish that surprised even me.

Since I’ve taken Mark’s advice to heart and started paying attention to good advice lying around in plain sight, I believe I’ve become better at writing copy. That’s because I’m noticing small and valuable bits of knowledge dropped by a guru that have little or nothing to do with the main secrets in the actual offer.

For example, I’m working on a real estate investing promo right now. And while I was going through the guru’s main “secrets” of lead generation and creative financing, I noticed a few throwaway comments he made. I took these comments and twisted them a bit to get some solid bullets going:

* How a $75 gadget (available at any electronics store) can get you thousands off the seller’s initial asking price

* The 5-word under-the-radar phrase you can use to uncover a seller’s true motivation — without the need to ask prying personal questions that put the seller on guard

* How to ethically piggyback on bandit signs put up by other investors (including investors you’ve never met) to get more sellers calling and emailing you

The point is, you can do this, too. There’s no secret, and there’s no magic.

Stop letting your attention be guided by others… and start directing it to the valuable and useful info hiding out in plain sight, all around you, right now.

​You’ll save yourself time and worry by not getting sucked in to expensive but low-value secrets. And you might even make money — assuming you’re in the business of writing fascinations.

But maybe you’re not convinced. But maybe you want more secrets. In that case, make sure to sign up to my secrets-filled daily email newsletter.

If you wish to know what advertising is, read this post

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Imagine a classy and rich office, with two well-dressed businessmen standing side by side, leaning on a desk.

One of the businessmen is old, the other is young. Even so, they look to be equals. They are busy looking over a report the younger one is holding.

Suddenly, a secretary knocks on the door.

“Message for you, Mr. Thomas,” she says as she hands the older man a slip of paper.

Thomas unfolds the paper, and as he reads the short note, his eyebrows shoot up.

He shakes his head and hands the paper to the younger man with a smile. The younger man takes a look at the note. It reads:

“I am in the saloon downstairs. I can tell you what advertising is. I know you don’t know. It will mean much to me to have you know what it is, and it will mean much to you. If you wish to know what advertising is, send the word ‘yes’ down by the bell boy.”

The younger businessman, Albert Lasker, pauses.

​​What the note says is true. He’s been in the advertising business for a few years now. He’s had tremendous success. In fact, even though he is only 24 years old, he is a partner at one of Chicago’s top advertising agencies, Lord & Thomas.

​​But he still doesn’t know what advertising really is. He doesn’t why it sometimes works, sometimes doesn’t. So he’s been asking around — other agency heads, copywriters, newspapermen. Nobody can give him a satisfying answer.

Well, nobody except maybe the guy in the lobby downstairs.

You might have already heard this story of the first meeting between Albert Lasker and John E. Kennedy, the mysterious man waiting downstairs.

​​Lasker did send the word “yes” down by the bellboy. And after a lot of negotiating and finagling, which included buying out Kennedy’s ridiculously expensive contract as a copywriter, Lasker had his answer.

It was all of three words that Kennedy told Lasker. But these three words transformed the Lord & Thomas advertising agency, and they transformed modern advertising.

What Kennedy told Lasker is that advertising is not about keeping the company’s name in front of the public. It’s not about delivering news, either, though news can be useful. Instead, advertising is simply:

Salesmanship in print

For about a hundred years now, nobody’s been able to improve on that definition. Fortunes have been made by taking this simple idea and applying it thoroughly.

​​But things might finally be changing. Perhaps Kennedy’s definition is not good enough any more. Salesmanship in print is still important. But it’s not enough. And sometimes it can even hurt instead of help.

​​So what’s a better way to think of advertising today?

​​It will mean much to me to have you know what it is, and it will mean much to you. If you wish to know what advertising is today, take a look at the following page.

Wiley Jews and subverted cliches

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In 1982, Hollywood movie studios apparently froze in fear. None of their old formulas were working and big budget movies turned into flops.

In fact, the only runaway hit for the first half of the year was a small outside production, which managed to reap $136 million on a budget of just $4 million. It was called Porky’s.

I’d never even heard of Porky’s until a few weeks ago. I decided to watch it today.

It turns out to be a teen sex comedy set in Florida in the 1950s. It hasn’t aged brilliantly.

It’s quaint with its boyish pranks (one boy’s “tallywacker” stuck through a hole in wall of the girls’ locker room shower) and its unabashed objectification of the multitasking gender (a hot female PE teacher, played by a young Kim Catrall, is nicknamed “Lassie” because of her coital howling).

But ok. Product of the times, right?

What seems out of place even for 1982 is the subplot involving one Brian Schwartz. Brian is Jewish. In the 1950s Dixie high school, he sticks out like a lobster on a sand beach.

Spoiler alert: Brian rises above and works his way inside the gang. That’s impressive, considering he drives a Richie Rich Jaguar while all the other boys drive pickup trucks.

But Brian wins their approval by 1) speaking calmly and intelligently to get the other boys out of trouble with the police and by 2) coming up with a devious, multi-stage plan to replace the boys’ dumb plan for the climax of the movie.

Way to explode those stereotypes about Jews. You can’t blame Brian, though. He’s just using his God-given intellectual talents. What you can do is blame the screenwriters for resorting to the cliche of the natural-born Jewish schemer.

And that’s where today’s Porky’s email ties into copywriting:

One easy, almost mechanical way to surprise your readers involves cliches. Of course, not salting your copy with even more cliches. But also not avoiding cliches, either.

Instead, what you can do is subvert a cliche. You can do it at the level of your concepts (Gary Bencivenga: “Get Rich Slowly”). You can do it at the level of an individual sentence (Ben Settle: “Take my advice with a grain of chili pepper”).

However you do it, your reader will think he knows where you’re taking him… but Brian Schwartz doesn’t grow up to become a well-paid Hollywood lawyer.

Sure, you can get sometimes away with a cliche. Porky’s proves that, as do many sales letters and emails. But there’s value in unpredictability. As A-list copywriter Jim Rutz wrote:

“The #1 sin in ad mail is being boring, and over half of it richly deserves its quick death by wastebasket. What is ‘always boring?’ The predictable. You must surprise the reader at the outset and at every turn of the copy.”

“I don’t want a mail-order bride… I want it to be easy!”

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How hard do you think it would be to get a mail-order bride?

What if you were rich? Incredibly successful? Clever? Funny? Do you think that would help?

What if you were a master of persuasion to boot? What if you could write an ad selling yourself… using your masterful persuasion skills? Do you think you could get a nice Russian woman to fly over and marry you and your millions, sight unseen?

It might seem like a layup. But it isn’t.

A-list copywriter Jim Rutz, who was one of the most successful copywriters of all time, tried it. Apparently Rutz was a virgin until age 40. So he sought out mail-order love with an ad he wrote himself:

“Damsel Wanted (Distress Optional)”

But it didn’t work out. Rutz never did get married. Which makes me think of those ads for a “copywriting ninja superstar,” which are looking for somebody “who can sell ice to an Eskimo.”

Well, here was Rutz. Rich. Successful. And just about as good at written persuasion as anybody ever.

And yet. Single.

Which brings me to a passage from the Gary Halbert letter. Gary, another master of persuasion, was writing on the topic of “challenges.” It’s what I’ll leave you with today, because it’s stuck with me for years:

American business owners need another “challenge” about as much as Warren Beatty needs help getting dates. What we need are “set-ups,” lay-down hands, deals that can’t hardly miss even if everything goes wrong. (As it always does.)

I wanna sell heroin to junkies. Fudge bars that make you skinny to porkers. Porno videos to Pee Wee Herman. Travel luggage to President Bush. Memory pills to Ronald Reagan. Kitty Kelley dart boards to Nancy Reagan. Condoms to Geraldo Rivera. (Did you read his new book? Whew!) Booze to Ted Kennedy. I.Q. pills to Dan Quayle, etc… etc… etc.

Are you getting the idea? I don’t want (and certainly don’t need) another “challenge.” No… I WANT IT TO BE EASY!”

If you’re still reading, maybe you’re an addict for direct response and copywriting knowledge.

In that, I’ve got an offer that might be a layup:

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Don’t start your sales letters like this

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“This was not a guy you wanted to mess with before lunch. He was large and threatening… Half his face was covered with a kind of breathing apparatus… He spoke in a strange, mechanical voice. And to make it all worse, he was as cool as a gherkin and seemed prepared for any eventuality. That’s why his minions followed him blindly, and even his allies feared him. Who was this dangerous man? All we know is his name. He was called Bane.”

So begins Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight Rises.

​​With the above monologue, the narrator introduces the main villain, Bane, and then we get into the rest of the movie, where Bane and Batman work out their relationship problems in sewers and on rooftops.

Maybe you’re puzzled. Don’t be. You’re not going crazy. This of course is not how The Dark Knight really starts.

The real movie starts in a plane, where Bane pretends to be a hostage. Except of course he’s not. ​​His minions come in a bigger plane, use a crane to lift up the first plane, blow a hole in the tail section. Whatever. You’ve probably seen the movie. And even if you haven’t, the point is simply this:

Hollywood blockbusters do not start with a narrator talking you into the story. Instead, they start with a dramatic scene, which introduces the characters and sets the mood.

There’s a valuable lesson in there. Here’s why I bring it up:

A lot of copy I see starts in the narrator style above. “I have a problem. It’s really bad. I’ve tried all the solutions but nothing is working. It is making my life miserable.”

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not picking on anybody. I used to write like this myself until I learned better. Even now, it’s still easy for me to slip into this narrator style. And at least I’m talking about the problem.

The trouble is that many people who make good direct response prospect won’t respond to this copy. They have either seen too many such ads and they won’t get sucked in… or they don’t (yet) identify with the problem you are calling out — and they won’t get sucked in.

The solution comes straight out of Hollywood. Don’t talk. Don’t tell. Instead show. Start your sales letter — or advertorial or whatever — with a dramatic scene. “This happened and then there was an explosion, and I winced in pain.” By the way, there’s got to be pain. Or at least anxiety, anger, or envy. We’re talking direct response copywriting, after all.

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Copywriting that ages like fine milk

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Picture me in my kitchen a few days ago, waiting with a naive smile while my moka pot comes to a boil.

I’ve been craving a coffee all morning long, and here I am, only moments from fulfillment.

The moka pot starts to rumble — a good sign. I wait until it stops rumbling, take it off the stove, pour the coffee into a cup. Deep inhale. The coffee smell gets me excited about the drinking to come.

I open the fridge and take out the bottle of milk — not too much left, but it will be just enough — and I pour it into my cup. And out it comes. A whitish, lumpy, cottage cheese-like substance rolls out of the milk bottle and into my coffee. My smile is gone. The milk has curdled. My coffee is ruined.

A few things in life get better with age, but most get worse, much worse. Milk is one of them. My own writing is another.

About 18 months ago, I wrote a little book about how I succeeded on Upwork, going from zero experience and charging $15/hr, to being a well-paid and well-reviewed sales copywriter.

Then a few days ago, I had the idea to pull out a part of this book — specifically about how to apply for Upwork jobs – and put it on my site as an article.

But now that I’m re-reading what I wrote back then… well, my naive smile is gone. I’m not sure I want this aged writing curdling up the other content on my website.

Of course, with a bit of work, I could make this information presentable. But is it worth it? I don’t know.

I sent out an email to my newsletter subscribers to find out. If there’s demand for my advice on how to write 3-sentence Upwork proposals that win 4-figure jobs, I’ll put my distaste aside, and write this article up.

And if you want to know if it ever gets published, the surest way to get notified is to sign up for my daily email newsletter yourself.