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/

Silent stories run deep

Yesterday, I walked into an unfamiliar room and got naked.

I took a warm shower, tiptoed over to a large, clam-like apparatus, and climbed in.

I closed the clam shell behind myself.

All around me was warm, salty water and complete darkness and silence.

I was in an isolation (or sensory deprivation) tank.

For the next hour or so, I lay there in the darkness, waiting for the visions to start.

At least, that’s what I’d read would happen. I got this idea from Paddy Chayefsky’s novel Altered States, in which a scientist starts experimenting with sensory deprivation and psychedelic drugs, and winds up transforming into an ape-like creature who runs amok in Central Park.

The story in the book is less kooky than this quick summary makes it sound.

And kooky or not, this story was enough to make “sensory deprivation” something I very much wanted to try.

Which is a lesson to keep in mind if you are trying to convince people of anything — particularly anything unusual, or something they might not know they want.

Just consider:

Had I read a sales letter, an advertorial, or a blog post with a headline like, “How to induce safe, drug-free hallucinations,” odds are the message would have just bounced off me.

In the best case, it might have gotten me interested, but it would have caused all sorts of objections and doubts to pop up as well.

But a story, in an obscure novel from 40 years ago, was enough to get me to seek out a “float” halfway around the world, without inquiring about the price, safety, or effectiveness of this experience.

And this all happened without even a call to action. Speaking of which:

If you are selling something to an “unaware” audience, and you want to try a story-based approach in your sales emails, then you might find some valuable pointers here:

https://bejakovic.com/profitable-health-emails/