Mystery Merchants

Non-scientific advertising

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The copywriting conference is over.

I’m at the Gdansk airport, wandering around and looking for my gate. Surprise. I come across a glass display case with a taxidermied bear inside.

It’s not an eastern European way of entertaining passengers. Rather, it’s a message from the WWF about trafficking in rare animals and animal products.

Besides the whole taxidermied bear, the glass case contains a bear head, a cheetah pelt, a skinned python, several pairs of snake leather slippers, taxidermied alligators and iguanas, a bunch of coral, and a giant turtle shell.

Those are the souvenirs. Then there’s the charms, potions, and amulets.

Cobratoxan. Seahorse capsules. Little carved ivory Buddhas. Skin caviar, with extract of sturgeon eggs. Bear balsam, with real bear inside.

Was the copywriting conference worth attending?

I’m 100% glad I came. I’ll see how it pays off and when. One thing I do know:

Marketing is like magic. Words and formulas have real power. Money can appear out of nowhere. And none of it happens without belief.

It’s time for me to board my plane and head back home. I’ll be back tomorrow with another email. If you’d like to read that, you can sign up for my email newsletter here.

The case against reading books

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One of the first-ever emails I wrote for this newsletter, back in August 2018, was about magician Ricky Jay. Jay was widely considered one of the best sleight-of-hand artists in the world.

Why write about a magician in a marketing and copywriting newsletter?

My feeling is that magic, as practiced by top performers like Ricky Jay, is about controlling the audience’s attention, about painting mental pictures, about entertaining, about building curiosity, all the while guiding people to a tightly controlled desired outcome — the magician’s desired outcome.

​​With some small tweaks, that also sounds like the job of a copywriter, or more broadly, any persuader.

Back in August 2018, Ricky Jay was still alive. He died a few months later. He left behind an enormous collection of magic artifacts — posters, books, handbills, paintings, personal letters — from some of the most bizarre, mystical, and skilled magicians, jugglers, acrobats, learned animals, con men, and sideshow freaks of all time.

After Ricky Jay died, his collection was broken up into four parts. Just the first part, auctioned off in 2021, brought in $3.8 million.

Today, I came across a little video of Ricky Jay talking about the books in his collection. And he had this to say:

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There are probably more books written about magic than any other art form. Literally thousands and thousands of books. And I’ve collected thousands of books in my life about magic technique.

But I believe that the real key to learning is personally. It’s almost like the sensei master relationship in the martial arts. That the way you want to learn is by someone that you respect showing you something.

There’s a level of transmission and a level of appreciation that’s never completely attainable just through the written word.

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I agree. If you can find somebody you respect, and you can get them to agree to teach you personally, you will learn things, and at a level of depth that you could never learn otherwise.

So go find a  sensei. But—

What if you can’t find one?

Or worse, what if you find a sensei, and, in spite of your best pleading and cajoling and stubbornly hanging around, he just says no? What if he’s too busy, too cranky, too secretive?

In that case I suggest being your own sensei.

Because books are great. I’ve read two or three of them, so I know. But there’s a level of understanding that’s never completely attainable through the written word.

Anyways, that’s my entire message for you for today. Except, if you want some help becoming your own sensei, take a look at my Most Valuable Email course.

​​Yes, Most Valuable Email is a bit of a how-to guide to a specific technique of email copywriting. But more than that, it’s a framework, a magical one in my experience, for becoming your own sensei. More info here:

https://bejakovic.com/mve/

66 1/2 minutes of getting your money’s worth

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At the start of the evening, the mustached gentlemen at the Boston Athletic Association held on to their top hats and leaned forward in their seats, their eyes wide open, all of them focused on the same point at the front of the room.

It’s not every day that you see a living man voluntarily handcuffed, wrapped in chains, placed inside a coffin, and then sealed inside like a corpse.

It was novel and dramatic.

But after a few minutes of intense staring at the unmoving coffin, the audience’s attention started to drift. The members of the athletic club began lighting up fine cigars, talking about sports, the news, and business, chuckling and chattering and catching up.

And then, 66 1/2 minutes after the show started, the coffin crashed open.

The living corpse inside sat up and then stood up, panting, sweat running down his temples, his hair in a mess, his frock coat rumpled. He held the handcuffs in one hand and the chains in the other — he was free.

The gentlemen in the audience broke into applause and cheers. Harry Houdini had done it again. Another amazing and improbable escape.

So far, so familiar. But here’s what gets me:

66 1/2 minutes of sitting and watching a coffin. Many of Houdini’s sold-out shows were like this. They were long — often many hours’ long — and for much of it there was nothing to see, because Houdini performed his handcuff and manacle and chain escapes in a closed cabinet or behind a curtain or inside a coffin.

66 1/2 minutes of nothing happening on stage. What was going on with the audience during all that time?

Was it just a pre-TikTok era, and were audiences happy to sit and zone out for an hour or three, like a cat staring at a blank wall?

Or did people just enjoy being close to danger and death, and was that palpable even if it couldn’t be seen?

I’m sure there was a bit of both to it.

But what gets me in the above story is how the gentlemen of the athletic club started lighting up cigars and having friendly chats about sports, business, and the news.

Maybe that was really what they had come for.

Maybe Houdini’s spectacular escape was really just an occasion to mark out the rest of the audience’s lives. Maybe it was just an excuse to get out of the house, to do what they like to do anyhow — which is to chat and chuckle and gossip — but to do it in a slightly novel and exciting setting.

There’s a good chance you aren’t sold on this point yet. That’s okay. I have more to say about it to try and persuade you. And if you do get persuaded, I have some novel and exciting advice for how to apply this to copywriting and marketing, even today, in the TikTok era, without engaging in daring feats that risk danger and death.

But more about that in a couple days’ time.

For today, I just have a very simple offer for you. It’s my little Kindle book, 10 Commandments of A-List Copywriters.

​​I used to refer to this as my “10 Commandments book.” I’ll have to stop that since I’m working on a second 10 Commandments book, and I have to distinguish between the two.

Anyways, Commandment III from ties into what I’ll talk about in two days’ time. It’s also the easiest commandment of the lot in my book.

​​This Commandment III takes just 5 minutes to follow, but it can suck your reader all the way to the sale, without him realizing what happened. It was first unearthed during an exclusive, closed-door seminar, which cost almost $7,700 in today’s money.​​

In case you’re curious, the secret behind this and all the other A-list commandments in my book are behind the locked door below. The ticket to unlock the door is but $4.99. If you feel you’re ready, step right behind this curtain:

https://bejakovic.com/10commandments

Today is a possible keyframe moment in your life

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About two months ago, I reconnected with an ex-girlfriend I had not talked to for over 5 years, pretty much since the day we broke up.

She seems to be thriving now. Maybe because of that, she wrote me a short email this summer to wish me a happy birthday. We exchanged a few more short emails and she suggested we get on a call and catch up. So we did.

It was an oddly pleasant and chirpy call that lasted over an hour.

I’ll tell you one detail from the call that stands out in my mind.

It turns out that in those five years, my ex started her own law office.

“I didn’t want to do it,” she said, “even though it was always the plan. Actually, in a funny way you were responsible for why I did finally do it.”

The “funny way” was this:

Back when we were together, my ex and I used to play-plan, and talk about sharing an office together one day. She could have one room, where she could write serious real estate contracts, and I could have the other room, where I could write serious dog toothbrush advertorials. We could share the coffee machine and the secretary.

It was a nice idea in my mind, and I guess in her mind as well. Because, as she told me during that oddly pleasant and chirpy call, it was this memory that made her finally decide to get the office and to start her own law practice.

All this popped up in my head today when I learned of a new word, watashiato:

“Watashiato: n. Curiosity about the impact you’ve had on the lives of the people you know, wondering which of your harmless actions or long-forgotten words might have altered the plot of their stories in ways you’ll never get to see.”

Watashiato, the word, comes from The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows. That’s just a blog by some guy, who’s inventing new words for feelings and experiences most of us have, but cannot put a finger, or tongue, to.

And that’s it. That’s all I’ll share with you today. That new word, plus The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, plus the quick personal story.

I did have more to say about this, including talking about keyframe moments.

But I saved that for people who are signed up for my email newsletter, and who get these emails live, instead of getting these emails archived on my website. In case you would like to join them, click here and possibly enter into a strange new area of your life.

Isla de Muerta positioning

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I recently rewatched the original Pirates of the Carribean movie, and I was reminded of the dreaded Isla de Muerta.

It’s a mystery island, maybe just a legend, where Captain Barbossa docks his ghostly Black Pearl, and where he keeps the cursed treasure of Hernan Cortes.

But don’t bother searching for Isla de Muerta on a map. Don’t make the foolish mistake of ever trying to sail to it yourself.

Only those who already know where the island is can ever find it.

That’s just like the positioning that A-list copywriter Parris Lampropoulos has.

​​I listened to Parris on a recent episode of the Chris Haddad podcast. I have stopped listening to marketing and copy podcasts. But whenever Parris makes a new public appearance, once every few decades, I make sure to listen, and probably multiple times.

Because Parris is the one person in this industry that I have learned from the most and that I have modeled the most.

I’ve learned copywriting tricks and tactics from Parris.

I’ve learned mindset and attitude and work practices.

And I’ve learned business of copy strategies.

Which brings us back to Parris’s positioning. Here’s how Parris explains his positioning, including why he gives talks so rarely:

“No website, no business card, not on social media, unlisted number, gotta know somebody who knows somebody to get to me and then maybe I’ll work with you. If I give all these talks it goes against my positioning. It looks like I’m trawling for work.”

In other words, if any ambitious business owner wants the marketing treasures hidden inside Parris’s head… well, that business owner has to have worked with Parris before, or at least know somebody who has.

This kind of positioning might seem entirely impractical to you right now.

And Parris himself admits he hasn’t had this positioning in the early days.

In fact, he kicked off his freelance career by going to Kinko’s, printing out hundreds of copies of a sales letter selling his own services, and then standing outside of a direct marketing convention, trembling with fear and handing out his sales letter to anyone who would take one. That landed him his first five clients.

Still, if you are interested in learning from the most successful people, then there’s no denying Parris is among them in the direct response industry.

And his “mystery, maybe just a legend” positioning might be worth using as a bearing to take you where you want go eventually go. The same way that Captain Jack Sparrow uses his crooked compass, which won’t point north, to track down Isla de Muerta.

Anyways, on to my Most Valuable Email offer.

Parris once, and only once, held a paid and public training. It included a bunch of super valuable bonuses, including a document titled, “A technique for improving your writing overnight.”

Parris advised his copy cubs, and anybody who paid for his training, to copy this document by hand three times.

Why?

Reason one — or so I suspect — was that the document laid out some important writing advice.

Reason two was that this document used my Most Valuable Email trick.

Like I’ve written before, I haven’t invented this trick. A few very smart and successful marketers have long used it in non-email media.

But nobody has used it in emails as often, and with such good results as I have.

If you are curious to learn this mysterious, maybe legendary trick yourself, then get out your broken compass, jam your tricorn hat onto your head, and set sail for this horizon:

https://bejakovic.com/mve/

Last chance to send $100…

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Legend says that, once upon a time, in various Midwestern states, an enterprising carny pitchman took out ads in local newspapers that read:

LAST CHANCE TO SEND $1
to PO Box 210, 60611 Chicago, IL

There was no reason given why the reader should send in $1 or whether he would get anything for it.

And yet, the ad supposedly drew in many dollar bills before the postal service guys caught on and put a stop to it.

In other news:

Yesterday, copywriter Van Chow, who bought my Most Valuable Email course, wrote me to say:

Hey John,

I love this course, I bet some money to see if it still talks about boring stuff like AIDA or PAS.

But I was surprised, I had never heard of this concept before.

I think this would help my journey and I’ll practice more of it.

Btw, do I still have a chance to get the bonus?

The answer is yes, there is still time to get the “mystery box” bonus offer that’s inside the MVE training. But time is running out.

In fact, today is your last chance to send me $100… and to get my Most Valuable Email course, and to still get the “mystery box” bonus.

Tomorrow, the Most Valuable Email course will keep being available. But as of 9am CET tomorrow, Friday Oct 7, the bonus offer will go away.

I won’t give you reasons why you might want this mystery bonus offer, or what’s inside it.

But if you want to see what else you get for your $100 — no AIDA or PAS — you can do that at the link below. And if the core MVE offer sounds attractive to you, then it might make sense to get it before the “mystery box” bonus disappears.

​​In any case, here’s the link:

https://bejakovic.com/mve/

The perfect sales language for who you are — and who you are becoming

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“With so many different products, we surely have the perfect Tachyon energy antenna for who you are — and who you are becoming”

A picture of a dolphin. “Panther juice.” And the following headline:

TACHYON ENERGY
For the Planet… For Her People… For You!

It might be the strangest direct response ad I’ve ever seen.

In fact, I’m not really sure it is a direct response ad. Maybe nobody was checking the responses. Or maybe this was actually a communique from wise creatures in a parallel dimension, who want us all to live in greater harmony, health, and prosperity.

What I do know is that this ad appeared dozens of times in the 90s and 2000s in magazines like Yoga Journal.

Some of the products listed in the ad include back belts, headbands, and something called “panther juice,” all of which purport to tap into the mysterious tachyon field all around us.

I’d never heard of tachyon energy before.

But I soon found that the people behind the dolphin ad had published a book in 1999 to explain tachyon energy to the masses. The book has 63 reviews on Amazon. Here’s a short excerpt from the most upvoted review:

“I came across Tachyon while doing some research on Vogel Crystal healings. Radieshesia, Radionics, Psychotronics etc all lead you to a Parallel dimension ( Dr. Tiller calls it a second 3D) we can tap into. Zero Field, Dark Matter, The Field, Quantum Field, whatever you want to call it, it is there and various people have learned and figured out how to tap into it.”

I’m not 100% sure what my point is. Except a while back, I wrote this:

Look to the extremes.

In other words, if you want to harness a valuable copywriting technique or marketing approach… then look to the folks who specialize in this approach — and nothing else.

For example, if you want to frame your offer as a huge opportunity… then look to opportunity marketers. The real estate infomercials… the business opportunity classifieds… the Joe Karbo’s of the world.

And if you want to create an aura of magic, mystery, and otherworldly possibility in your copy, then look to the tachyon energy ad and the sales language it uses.

Either it will help you write copy that taps into the fundamental human need to believe… or it might teleport you into a non-dimensional space and provide revolutionary new answers to health, longevity, and mental alertness.

Whatever the outcome may be, if you’re ready to have your third eye opened, then take a look below. And if you want an email newsletter about copywriting and marketing that’s perfect for who you are — and who you are becoming — then step through this portal.

Prancing Pony wizard characteristic

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In the opening six hours of the Lord of the Rings, the wizard Gandalf finally realizes what those hobbits have in their house.

It’s the One Ring… the focus of all evil in the world. And right now, nine grim and bloody ghost riders are galloping to collect it.

So Gandalf rushes to Frodo the hobbit’s house. He tells Frodo to get himself and the ring out of there now.

Frodo is bewildered. “But where shall I go?”

“Go to the village of Bree,” Gandalf tells him. “I will meet you… at the Inn of the Prancing Pony.”

I recently wrote about Dan Kennedy’s main practical idea for wealth attraction. “Be the wizard, and beware other wizards.”

I’m a literal type so I started watching the LOTR to see what exactly it means to be a wizard in the popular mind. The above scene caught my eye.

Because Gandalf doesn’t say, “Where shall you go? Gee, I don’t know, Frodo… what do you think is best?”

Gandalf also doesn’t say, “Head to Bree. There must be some inns there. Book a room in one of them. I think they use the same money as here. I will try to find you sooner or later.”

Gandalf doesn’t even say, “Go to the Inn of the Prancing Pony in Bree. Because it’s not too far from here… and it’s on the way to where the ring needs to go anyhow… plus they make this really wonderful mutton sandwich, I think you will love it.”

Nope. Instead Gandalf gives clear, certain, and yet cryptic guidance.

Clear. Because if people are paying the wizard big bucks, they want to be told exactly what to do.

Certain. Because there’s nothing worse than doubt. Doubt is not a burden many people are willing to carry — and that’s why they seek out the wizard.

And cryptic. Why the Inn of the Prancing Pony… and not next door, at the Inn of the Gamboling Goat? We’ll never know. Gandalf gives us no fumbling explanation. Which allows us to think there must be a good reason… even if we are not privy to it. He’s the wizard, after all.

Of course, LOTR is a movie.

Plus I don’t think Dan Kennedy is as literal-minded as I am. I don’t think he was really talking about putting on a grey pointed hat… or trying to impress clients by growing out your beard and eyebrows.

Still, there is something in the unconscious mind that responds to wizard cues like in the scene above. And often, these cues pop up most clearly in pop culture like LOTR.

So if you work with clients, here’s where to go:

Give your clients clear guidance. Take away their doubts before they even have them. Resist your urge to explain yourself. And when you finish… I will meet you… at the Inn of the Wealthy Wombat.