Brands

🧿

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Yesterday I was sitting at a restaurant on the side of the Barcelona cathedral, trying to learn to enjoy a vermouth, a popular drink here.

In front of me, a steady procession of tourists walked alongside the cathedral, some 40 yards away.

I was staring at them idly between the bittersweet sips of vermouth, when I saw him:

A pasty white man, somewhere between ages 30 and 50, with red hair, wearing Teva sandals, cargo shorts, and… a Wu-Tang t-shirt.

The fact is, the Wu-Tang symbol was what drew my eye first, even though I was sitting far away, and though the man was walking in a crowd.

​​The symbol made me instantly predisposed to like the guy and feel an affinity towards him. All the other unpromising details I noticed only later.

Just in case you don’t know the Wu-Tang Clan:

They are a hip hop group from the 90s that borrowed ideas and imagery from old kung fu movies. Their symbol is a large irregular W, split in two, with the words Wu-Tang in the middle of it.

Even if you’ve never seen the Wu-Tang symbol until now, now that I’ve told you about it, you’re likely to see it, on t-shirts and sweatshirts, as graffiti, or even as a tattoo.

Last week, I sent out an email about How To Speak by Patrick Winston. Winston was an MIT who for 40 years gave a talk on the essence of good communication, taken from his own methodical study of what works.

At one point, Winston presents the Winston star, a rather satanic symbol that encapsulates five characteristics of the most successful communication. All the five characteristics start with an “s”. And one of them, as you can probably guess, you clever sausage, is “symbol.”

And if Winston and his MIT credentials aren’t enough to convince you of the value and influential ability of symbols, then just think of every world religion, every influential brand, or hell, think of my Wu-Tang guy at the Barcelona cathedral.

And then, start thinking about how you could integrate a symbol into what you do.

I can’t give you much more advice than that. I’m not sure what makes for an effective symbol vs. an ineffective one, except the obvious things which apply to all good communication:

Your symbol should be simple. It should be distinct. ​​It should be recognizable, even from a distance of 40 yards away.

As an example, I picked a nazar, a design for an amulet to ward off the evil eye, for the symbol in my subject line today.

Oh and one more thing:

Your symbol should be repeated, over and over, everywhere, until it gets conditioned into people’s heads as the image that somehow represents your thing.

So for example, if I decided to use the nazar symbol above to represent my email audit offer (“ward off the evil lurking around your lukewarm daily emails and underperforming autoresponders…”), then I should also put the nazar on the consulting form I use to get new people to sign up.

Which is just what I’ve done.

​​In case you want to see it, or in case you have an email list and want my help warding off evil from it, you can do so here:

https://bejakovic.com/consulting

The real Djokovic problem

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If you’re a tennis fan or an Australian or a non-Australian, you’ve undoubtedly heard the smouldering news:

World tennis #1 Novak Djokovic is being deported from the Land Down Under.

Djokovic arrived yesterday to play in the Australian Open, which he has won 9 times already. But…

Djokovic is not vaccinated against corona and was not willing to get vaccinated to participate at the Australian Open.

So the organizers had to finagle (“rigorous review process”) a special medical exemption for Djokovic to be allowed into the country, which has strict vaccine mandates.

And then the folks at the Australian Open had themselves a “good news, bad news” situation:

“Good news! We have the world no. 1 coming to play at the tournament!”

“Bad news! The people of Australia seem genuinely pissed about the medical exemption… since they’ve been forced to live under lockdown for the better part of two years!”

And so, while Djokovic’s plane was in the air, and the smoke from the wildfire on the ground was rising thick and heavy, the Australian PM went on TV to take a tough stand. On arrival, Djokovic would have to prove his medical exemption is legit — or “be on the next plane home.”

The tension was immense. But thankfully, it seems to be getting solved in a nice and clean way.

It turned out somebody on Djokovic’s staff had fumbled the visa application, and had ticked the wrong box somewhere. So Djokovic’s visa is invalid. The Australian government refused to make an exception — “rules are rules” — and so here we are.

At this point, I could switch and talk about direct marketing, and the kinds of prospects you want to sell to, and more importantly, the ones you want to avoid.

But instead, I’d rather talk tennis. All right, not really tennis tennis, but what this Djokovic situation can teach us about personal branding, in tennis and more broadly.

Because I feel this entire situation could not have happened — not with this level of scrutiny, outrage, and interest — without the animosity that has built up against Djokovic over the years.

Let me make it clear:

I personally like the guy. I’ve been a tennis fan for a long time, and I root for Djokovic whenever I see him play. Plus, I find his public appearances charming and funny.

But the tennis media will tell you the world hates the man. His corona stance is just the latest reason why. Before that, it was that he is a cult-minded kook… before that, that he is arrogant… and before that, that he is a whiner and malingerer who takes medical time-outs as a game strategy.

To me, all these seem like surface justifications for something deeper. So I kept asking myself, why do many tennis fans hate Djokovic, and why does the media keep making him into a villain?

I’ve had my own theory about this for a long time. And today, I read a very interesting article, which put my theory into a bigger context. The gist of it is this:

There is a difference between having an enemy and a nemesis.

An enemy is just somebody in your way to getting what you want.

But a nemesis is much like the “Shadow Man” in the Prince of Persia video game — an eerie, bizarro version of yourself, who can match all your skills, who keeps foiling you at key moments, and who ultimately forces you to learn, develop, and grow in order to win.

A true nemesis makes for peak levels of drama, a story we instinctively respond and cling to.

And that’s what made Djokovic so offensive.

My theory for all the Djokovic hate is that he ruined the greatest rivalry tennis has ever known, the one between Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal.

Federer and Nadal had a true nemesis storyline, which fans and media loved.

Djokovic ended that. And in his dominance over the past 10+ years, he has had no true nemesis of his own. People never forgave him for what he took away and failed to replace.

That’s been at the core of why he’s been made into a villain. And now it’s coming back to bite him, at the tournament which was his best chance to break the biggest record in tennis — the number of Grand Slam titles — for which he is currently tied with Federer and Nadal.

So here’s my takeaway for you:

If you want a personal storyline that people eat up, get emotionally involved with, and fight to defend, then find yourself a worthy nemesis. Somebody who matches your skills and who can genuinely defeat you.

Because if you don’t, the consequences are clear. Over time, you’ll face growing resentment at your success… hostility at your attempts to be friendly and open… and eventually, a long and lonely flight, “on the next plane home.”

By the way:

The article on the nemesis I mentioned above, by a guy named Ted Gioia, was both interesting and well-written. So in case you’re curious about nemesizing your life or your business, here’s where you can read more:

https://tedgioia.substack.com/p/you-dont-need-a-mentorfind-a-nemesis

My whole life has been leading to this

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1. Age 7, second grade. I’m standing in front of the class and reading a little story I’d written. It’s about a yellow raincoat I had and a googly-eyed giraffe sticker on it which I tried to rip it off and give to Ivona, the girl I was in love with back in kindergarten.

Some 7-year-old monster in my class gets restless and starts to talk. The teacher shushes him angrily. “Listen!” she says. “It’s such a wonderful story.”

2. Age 17, English class in 12th grade. We break into groups of four and read each other’s college application essays. Everybody else’s essay is a dutiful list of lessons learned and life goals to be achieved. My essay is about my first time waiting at the DMV. I know when people are reading it, because they first snicker and then start to laugh.

3. Age 23, senior year of college. I’ve taken an advanced math class, thinking I might go to graduate school for the same. Well, we’ll see about that.

“Roses are red,” the intimidatingly smart professor says. I nod. I believe I understand what he’s saying.

“If roses are red,” he goes on and faces me, “then violets are…?”

My mind is blank. I can’t follow his simple reasoning. I squirm in my seat. But he wants an answer.

“If roses are red,” I start, “then violets must be… a type of common flowering plant?”

Not the right answer, it turns out. Graduate school for math? No.

Instead, pretty much my whole life has been leading me to this point right here, where I write copy for a living and I write these daily emails for fun.

Well, maybe that’s an exaggeration. In fact, it’s very much an exaggeration. But you might believe it, based on the little snippets I just shared with you.

And that’s my point. Because snippets are often all you need.

Yesterday, I gave you a Dan Kennedy story titled, “My chief asset was a cat who licked stamps.”

Part of that story was exaggeration and absurdity and humor. But there was something else. Because Dan’s story wasn’t really a story. It didn’t have a tail and horns and everything in between.

Instead, it was really a snapshot, a scene, an episode.

That’s often all you need. And in today’s world, where everybody and his cat is forcing their life to fit a “hero on a quest” story mold, you might even stand out as somebody more honest. A few snapshots from your life to add color. An episode to make a point — without making yourself out to be Luke Skywalker.

And by the way, if you want a real-life example of selling yourself for millions of dollars using this episode-based approach, track down Dan’s Magnetic Marketing stump speech. It’s available online, and it’s a great sales presentation. Plus, it’s as funny as a Bill Burr comedy special — pretty amazing, considering Dan gave these speeches almost 30 years ago.

And for more intimate snapshots from my private life, you might like to sign up to my email newsletter.

“My chief asset consisted of a cat who licked stamps”

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A few days ago, a reader of this newsletter wrote in with a problem.

He’s an expert in his field. But he feels sick telling his mess-to-success, rags-to-riches origin story. He hates hyping it up and repeating it over and over, even though it’s all true.

I can understand. So here’s an alternative. Take a look at the following background story from Dan Kennedy:

I often tell the story, when I went through a divorce and went broke I started over in info-marketing and my chief asset consisted of a cat who licked stamps.

My wife abandoned the cat and left the cat behind. We quickly came to an agreement that, if it was going to get fed, it had to do something other than hiss, and snarl, and scratch, and bite, which were unattractive attributes of this little monster.

We arrived at a working relationship where it sat on the coffee table, I sat facing the TV at night stuffing my envelopes and getting my mail ready. It sat facing me, and I took the strip of stamps and held it out and the cat licked them and then I did all my stamps.

I kept a little bowl of water there so the cat could, you know… I’m sure all that glue … but they’ve got nine lives! All the glue probably didn’t kill it, its personality probably did.

That’s the end of Dan’s story. In the presentation he gave, he moves on and talks marketing.

So what’s my point in bringing up this story?

You might think it’s humor. And yes, humor is a big part of the story above. If you can be funny like Dan, you are that much ahead of the rest of us.

But there’s something else to Dan’s story. Because it’s certainly not rags-to-riches, is it?

No, something else is going on. I’ll spell it out in my email tomorrow (click here if you wanna get it), and I’ll tell you how it’s relevant for your sales copy… or for your in-person, nose-to-nose, toes-to-toes origin story. Whether you are funny or not.

Rolls Royce copywriting portfolio

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You probably know the famous Ogilvy Rolls Royce ad:

At 60 miles an hour the loudest noise in the new Rolls-Royce comes from the electric clock

Wouldn’t it be nice to write ads like this all the time?

Wouldn’t you like to simply highlight the classy superiority of the product that you’re selling, instead of teasing people with the amazing secret of the one-legged accountant… or prophesying “The End of America”… or promising a passive monthly income of $5,378… $7,442… yes, even $11,246 — no cash, credit, or skills required?

Well, if that’s what you’re dreaming of, then all I can tell you is, be David Ogilvy. Because even though Ogilvy was a big fan of direct response, this electric clock thing is an ad for a brand.

Back in 1958 when this ad came out, American consumers already knew Rolls Royce well. In fact, they already knew that Rolls Royce was the fanciest car brand around. The electric clock thing was just a dramatic illustration of that.

That’s not to say you couldn’t do something similar in a direct response ad. You just need to have a brand that your audience already knows and likes. Those do exist, at least for very small and tight pockets of people.

But if you ain’t got a brand like this, then you’ll be better off calling out a problem or making a big promise. No cash, credit, or skills required.

But you probably already know this. The only reason I bring it up is in case you’re fresh to direct response copywriting. In that case, maybe you’re wondering why Ogilvy’s ad — celebrated even by Gary Halbert — looks so different than your typical direct response piece.

Actually, there’s a second reason I bring it up.

It’s because it’s relevant to that other newbie question, about creating a copywriting portfolio. Because everything I’ve just told you is basically the best advice I can give to anyone looking to create a portfolio.

Perhaps the portfolio point I’m trying to make is obvious. Perhaps it’s not. In any case, I’ll spell it out in my email tomorrow.