Yet another clickbait subject line

“I was furious…”

“Did you get a chance to see this?”

“I almost forgot to tell you!”

I’ve seen an uptick recently in flat-out clickbait subject lines like these. And by “clickbait,” I mean subject lines that have little (or nothing) to do with the actual content of the email. They are simply tacked on as an afterthought, and could work just as well with any other content.

But what’s the problem? The more the merrier, right? People can’t read your message unless they click on it, and if a subject line gets them to click, then it’s done its job.

Perhaps. But like salt, curiosity rarely makes a filling meal on its own. That’s not my conclusion. Instead, it comes from one of the greatest copywriters of the last century, John Caples, who wrote about headlines:

“Avoid headlines that merely provoke curiosity. Curiosity combined with news or self-interest is an excellent aid to the pulling power of your headline, but curiosity by itself is seldom enough. This fundamental rule is violated more often than any other.”

And then then we get to the very other extreme. You might call this “the fewer the merrier.” It’s an idea promoted by the likes of marketing expert Travis Sago, who has made himself and his clients millions of dollars, often solely through email. Travis advises that you “write your subject lines like you have to pay for every open.”

So what to do? Who’s right?

Well, I think there’s actually no single right answer. There might be situations where clickbait headlines (“Whoa!”) make sense and make sales. Cold emails to businesses might be one example. Personally, I don’t like these kinds of subject lines, but that’s just a matter of artisanal pride.

I also think that if you’re looking to play the long game with your marketing, meaning you want an ongoing relationship with your readers, then it makes sense not to piss those readers off. Will they click on your email and feel like they’ve been scammed into reading something irrelevant? Then maybe it’s time to consider making your subject line less clickbaity, more transparent, and more specific.

Don’t play it again, Sam

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That covers the first half of the Mamet quote above.

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

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

Miracle Max’s copywriting masterclass

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“TR…OOOOO…LUV…”

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

He said my copy needed to be more theatrical.

More dramatic.

More “spicy.”

But how do you copy spicy?

Well, one option is to raise the stakes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A working witch’s broom for your Halloween?

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

Anti-gravity is just what it sounds like:

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

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

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

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

I bring this up because it’s Halloween today.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But anti-gravity?

Come on, get real.

And this has real implications for direct response copywriting.

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

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

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

Sounds too good to be true, right?

And yet it’s real and it’s legit.

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

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

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

https://bejakovic.com/advertorials/

Rough and smooth copywriting sandpaper

I believe it was Michelangelo who wrote:

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

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

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

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

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

#1. Tidbit sandpaper

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

#2. Vision sandpaper

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

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

#3. Grasp-the-advantage sandpaper

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

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

Yeah, so what?

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

Yeah, so what?

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

Hmmm…

#4. Midge sandpaper

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

#5. Dumb sandpaper

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

#6. Intense sandpaper

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

#7. Boron sandpaper

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

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

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

https://bejakovic.com/advertorials/

Marketing devil-inspired price negotiation tactics

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

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

Anarchist articles?

To sell t-shirts?

At $100 for 500 words?

That’s not the pond that I play in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that’s Upwork.

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

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

The delusional Madame Copywriter

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

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

Three years pass, and the situation is getting desperate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But don’t let that fool you.

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

https://bejakovic.com/advertorials/

Get yer own Falkor

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like I said, I found this very significant.

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

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

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

An alternative to royalties

A few days ago, I got an email from a potential new client.

He’s a fitness trainer with 1) an impressively muscular body, 2) a couple of brick-and-mortar gyms somewhere in the UK, and 3) a pretty healthy online following, totaling around 50k people across various platforms.

Good stuff. But not nearly as impressive as one specific bit of this guy’s background:

He has consulted several A-list Hollywood stars, and helped them get in big-screen shape for superhero and action movies.

Hmmm…

Anyways, this fitness trainer has an online sales funnel he wants to improve. It runs like this:

Facebook ads -> free lead magnet -> thank you page with $17 ebook offer.

The trouble is, the thank you page isn’t really pulling its weight.

It only gets a 1% conversion rate.

And when I took a look at it, I could see a few reasons why.

So I gave the guy some simple suggestions — do better “above the fold,” highlight the sexy Hollywood stuff instead of burying it, rename the actual offer, etc.

The fitness trainer liked the ideas. And he wanted to know…

How much would I charge to write this up?

Well, I’ve lately been moving away from flat-fee deals.

For copywriting, that usually means asking for a royalty — a percentage of the revenues generated by the copy.

But in this case, I had a feeling the guy wouldn’t be open to a royalty structure. Maybe I had good reasons… or maybe I just chickened out. But the upshot was I made him two offers:

1. A flat fee of $x, which would make it worthwhile for me to work on this project

2. A flat fee (50% of $x) plus a bonus (another 50% of $x) for each 1% bump in conversions I could provide

Option 1 is safer for me and less attractive for the client. The client would rather have Option 2 (so he told me), particularly since the bonus he would be paying me would be “free.” It would be less than the increase in revenues he gets each day he runs traffic to this funnel.

On the other hand, this Option 2 is more risky for me. If I fail to produce, I get paid less.

But the upside is also greater — if I manage to get more than 1% increase in conversions (and I think I can), then I also get paid more in total.

So if you’re a copywriter, this payment structure might be something to keep in mind.

And if you’re a business owner, and you’ve got a great product, Hollywood-level social proof, and terrible marketing, then write me an email. Because I’ve got an offer I’d like to make to you.

A quick disgusting story

I had something disgusting happen to me yesterday.

I was having breakfast, my usual fare of testosterone yogurt, steel-cut oatmeal, and a few frozen raspberries and blackcurrants.

So I sat down in my usual breakfast armchair and took hold of the oatmeal bowl. On the underside of the bowl, though, I felt something dry and hard.

“EW!!!”

It turned out to be a dead, flattened, and desiccated insect of some sort, perhaps a cockroach. I instinctively shook it off my hand and stared after it in disgust.

How the hell did it get under my yogurt bowl? And where did it come from in the first place?

I zoomed in over the cockroach corpse. And as my eyes adjusted, so did my brain. It wasn’t really a dead insect. Instead, it was just the dried calyx from a cherry tomato that I had eaten last night. But in that split second, my overactive and anxious brain had convincingly transformed it into something much grosser, more frightening, and more unpleasant.

I don’t have a particular point in telling you this story except to illustrate one thing:

You’ll often hear that good copy is based around a story. And you’ll see many people take this advice to heart.

“I had some yogurt this morning,” they will start. “Yogurt is my favorite breakfast food and this morning was no different. The end.”

(I’m exaggerating, but I think you get the idea.)

Yes, that’s a story, but it’s not very good. And it doesn’t really have a place in sales copy. Because sales copy requires stories that are dramatic, or that evoke strong emotions – fear, surprise, or even disgust.

So keep that in mind in case you’re writing some copy of your own. And in case you want help writing dramatic stories, you can find more of my disgusting advice here:

https://bejakovic.com/advertorials/