The case against deadlines in your marketing

Now, the ant may have a fault or two
But lending is not something she will do.
She asked what the cricket did in summer.
“By night and day, to any comer
I sang whenever I had the chance.”
“You sang, did you? That’s nice. Now dance.

Imagine a squat little ant and a tall, lanky cricket, waving to each other across an empty field.

That’s how the sales graph looked for the Influential Emails offer I ran last week.

On the first day, I had a squat but reasonable number of sales. That’s the ant on one side of the empty field. That ant — or rather, the proactive ants who took me up on my offer early — made up 15% of the total sales I got in terms of revenue.

For the next 6 days, I made some sales each day, But really, it was nothing to sing or dance about.

And then, on the very last day, just as I was ready to wrap it up and hunker down for a long and hungry winter, I got a bunch of orders. A tall and crickety spike in the sales graph. Totaling 47% percent of the whole.

So what’s the conclusion?

You might think this is a classic example of why nothing in the world ever gets done without a deadline. And that it’s foolish to allow people to buy your stuff whenever they want, because your garden variety of wanting is not enough to get crickets to act.

That’s one way to look at it.

Another way is that perhaps some of those come-lately crickets would have bought earlier had I not made this into a time-limited offer. Maybe they know they tend to put things off, and they would have acted to prevent this from happening.

Perhaps others would have bought over the coming weeks and months, had I kept reminding them and teasing them with regular, interesting emails.

And perhaps still others would have bought in time who will NOT buy now, because the offer is no longer available.

All those are reasonable arguments against putting a deadline on your offer, at least if you’ve got a good way to stay in touch with your prospects.

The fact is, we will never know.

I run time-limited offers with deadlines because I like it that way. Because it motivates me, and because it’s in line with my own cricket-like nature. And because I’m happy enough with the results, even if those results perhaps could have been higher through some other way of doing business.

Marketer Sean D’Souza was once asked if he has any data to show his contrarian business model works. He replied:

Do we have any data? No, we don’t.

The customers are using this every single day. I’m not actually here to prove anything to you.

What I’m asking you, when you go to a restaurant, does it work for you? When you go on a dating thing, does it work for you? When you go on the Apple site, does it work for you?

If you don’t think it works for you, don’t put it into place. I don’t have data. I started out as a cartoonist, I moved to marketing, and this has allowed us to take three vacations, buy houses, travel, do all the things we really wanted to do. We earn more money than we need.

The point is, if you think it works for you, put it in place. If you don’t think it works for you, that’s not a problem.

I heard this early in my marketing education. It’s stuck with me ever since. Both Sean’s attitude of, “Do we have any data? No, but it works for us.” But also the contrarian view of marketing that Sean was talking about.

Perhaps you don’t know what that contrarian view is. That’s a shame.

Because like Sean says, his way of marketing… well, it allowed him to achieve everything he wanted, on his own terms.

It might give you some good ideas as well. So if you’re curious, little cricket, check out my email tomorrow. That’s where I’ll tell you about the “it” that allowed Sean those vacations and those houses and that money. And you can then see if it might work for you, too.

My special time with Barack Obama

On January 20, 2009, a friend and I drove down from Baltimore to Washington, D.C. At the time, I personally had nothing to do with the government.

But my friend had been involved with the Obama campaign from its unlikely beginnings. Thanks to him, we were now going to D.C. to watch Obama’s inauguration from a very special place.

D.C. was a madhouse that day. The streets were filled with hundreds of thousands of people.

My friend and I managed to park. We started making our way towards the National Mall. Barricades had been erected to corral and direct the masses so they could pile up in front of the Capitol building. Fortunately, this did not apply to my friend and me.

I’ll wrap up my experience from that day in a second. But first let me tell you why I bring this up.

I got an email today from a reader named Jon. Jon is a copywriter. One of his clients is an organization filled with high-status, high-authority persons.

But for reasons I cannot divulge (because I don’t know them), these powerful and authoritative persons must remain anonymous. Even their direct contacts must remain anonymous.

So Jon wrote in, and using his best Ali G voice, he asked me how to “big up an authority figure if that figure needs to stay anonymous?”

So here’s one thing I told Jon — maybe it will be relevant to you too:

If you want authority, but you got nothing else to work with, you can name tangential contacts.

Trump. Putin. Gary Bencivenga. Whoever the biggest person is that you can get.

It doesn’t have to be particularly meaningful connection — the name is more important than a really close tie. If you ever met once, even for a few seconds… if you ever attended the same event… or hell, even if you were ever in the same town at one point.

So I guess you see where I’m going with this.

Back on that 2009 Inauguration Day, my friend and I got carried around in the sea of people. We soon realized we wouldn’t see a damn thing if we pushed our way into the crowds in front of the Capitol. So we turned around, and by a circuitous route, we made it to the Washington Monument.

There were a bunch of people there also. They were looking at large-screen TVs showing the inauguration. I jumped up in place, and for a moment I could see the Capitol building above the crowd. I must have seen Obama, somewhere up there, for a split second. I guess.

And I guess you might have had enough of me and of this email by now. But hang on.

Because there are a few caveats about this authority by association stuff. Here’s how to actually make it useful:

1. Don’t make it absurd. The association doesn’t have to be super tight or flattering. But it has to be a little tighter and a little more flattering than my connection to Obama.

2. Don’t telegraph what you’re doing. For example, don’t make your loose association in an email where you explain that very technique.

3. Don’t bring up people your market doesn’t care about. Like Obama. He’s pretty irrelevant today to the space of direct response marketers and copywriters.

So is that the best I got? Obama, maybe, 12 years ago? Don’t I have even a tangential association to anybody more interesting in the direct response space?

Maybe I don’t. Or maybe I just choose to big up my authority in a different way. In the poorly chosen words of my friend, Barack Obama, while he was trying to make the case for government-run healthcare:

“UPS and FedEx are doing just fine, right? It’s the Post Office that’s always having problems.”

If that makes little sense to you, perhaps you’d like to join my email list. I don’t promise it will answer this particular riddle… but there are many secrets and mysteries inside you might like. Click here if you want in.

I’m good enough… I’m smart enough… and doggone it—

I used to watch a lot of Saturday Night Live back in the 1990s. There was an ongoing skit with Phil Hartman playing Stuart Smalley, ​a sappy man with a lisp and a non-Duchenne smile.

Stuart is working on improving his self-image. So in each skit, he looks at himself in the mirror, smiles his fake smile, and repeats:

“I’m good enough… I’m smart enough… and doggone it, people like me.”

This was funny in the 90s. I guess this affirmation stuff was in the water back then.

It might be less funny today because today’s water contains a lower ppm of affirmations. In part, that’s due to party-pooping scientists like Joanne Wood from the University of Waterloo.

​​Back in 2009, Prof. Wood took a bunch of undergrads and had them repeat affirmations.

“I’m good enough… I’m smart enough… and doggone it, people like me.”

This had a positive effect — on people who were already pretty happy with themselves.

​​But with people who had low self-esteem to start with, it had negative effect. It made them conclude the opposite and feel worse.

“I’m defective somehow… I’m too stupid… and doggone it, nobody likes me.”

My point for you is to be careful if you are a naturally gung-ho marketer, making empowering claims at your prospects.

“You’re amazing! You can do it! It’s not your fault you failed until now!”

If you resort to claims like this, you might have the intended effect on the people in your market who were born yesterday… and who haven’t yet learned to doubt themselves.

For the rest of ’em, the ones who have become disillusioned with both the offers in your market and with themselves, you’ll need another approach. You’ll need to raise your prospects’ self-esteem so they believe they are unique… smart enough… and competent enough to succeed.

How can you do this?

​​Well, I’ll write more about that down the line (you can get it in my newsletter if you like). For now, let me reveal the obvious secret that self-esteem rises not because you say so… but indirectly, because you make people feel it inside them, without any affirmations.

Prancing Pony wizard characteristic

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.

Jeffrey Epstein just wanted to feel okay

Whatever happened to talk of Jeffrey Epstein?

It seemed that in the second half of 2019, any online discussion could suddenly melt down into the phrase, “Epstein didn’t kill himself.” And the next thing you know…

… we have a pandemic on our hands, and nobody remembers Epstein any more.

I’m not trying to sell you yet another conspiracy theory. I just want to bring up an article I read back in 2019, during the height of Epstein fever.

The article appeared in the sometimes thoughtful, often merely provocative Taki Mag. And it features the following thought:

“My guess about the late Mr. Epstein’s taste for orgies is that it was only partially sexual in origin. After all, a man in his situation could have paid for any amount of sex, of any kind, in private. What he really enjoyed (I surmise) is corrupting others — and not just others, but prominent and powerful others. He enjoyed being, or playing, Mephistopheles, quite apart from any sexual gratification he may have had on the way.”

The article goes on to say that Epstein came from a modest background. He then made a lot of money through whatever means.

But this didn’t soothe his sense of inferiority among other rich and powerful people. Rather, it inflamed it. And the only way Epstein could finally feel better… is by making others act worse.

In other words, Jeffrey Epstein just wanted to feel okay, in the sense that negotiation coach Jim Camp used that word.

I guess we will never know whether that was really so.

But it sounds plausible to me. Because most of us are not really motivated by money… sex… or A-list copywriting chops. Instead we are motivated by something deeper, less rational, and more primal.

Like what exactly?

Like wanting to feel okay, for example. Feeling okay is one of these primal desires. But it’s not the only one.

And if you keep your antenna out, you might soon spot some others. Or if you want a shortcut… well, there’s a short video out there on YouTube that talks about this in more detail. I was reminded of it a few days ago.

If you ask me, this video is the minute-for-minute champion when it comes to advanced and subtle copywriting ideas. I shared the link to this video with my email newsletter subscribers. If you’d like to sign up for that, so you can feel okay and so you don’t miss out on future copywriting shortcuts, then click here and fill out the form.

Tending the penguins

On September 27, 1914, Sir Ernest Shackleton set off on a daring, last-of-its-kind conquering of Antarctica.

But his ship got stuck in ice. The popular explorer and his intrepid men faced the prospect of a cold, slow, lonely death. They cabled a desperate plea back to England, asking for help.

Their message made it up to the First Lord of the Admiralty, a guy by the name of Winston Churchill. Churchill was in the middle of dealing with what would later be called World War I. And he wrote in response:

“When all the sick and wounded have been tended, when all their impoverished & broken hearted homes have been restored, when every hospital is gorged with money, & every charitable subscription is closed, then & not till then wd. I concern myself with these penguins.”

Yesterday I promised to share with you one final great lesson I learned from Ben Settle. So let me get right to it:

Have standards for your business, and stick to ’em.

Like Churchill above, do the things you say matter to you. And leave the tending of the penguins for only after, if ever.

“That’s your great lesson?” you say.

Yeah. Hear me out.

I don’t know why having standards and sticking to them works so well. Maybe there’s some magic in it, and if you do it, the universe gives you more of what you focus on.

Or maybe it’s less magical. Maybe it’s just that we all secretly like strongmen. Maybe we are still kids in adult bodies. And whenever somebody assumes the right to start setting rules and boundaries… we start looking to them as an authority to be obeyed and respected.

Whatever the case, I believe that having your own standards and sticking to ’em – whether for yourself… your offers… your marketing… your business partners… your business practices… and yes, even for your customers — is the way to not only become successful… but to become successful on your own terms.

It’s how Ben was able to defy industry norms and not only survive but thrive. It’s how he could send multiple ugly-looking emails a day… offer no refunds… charge hundreds of dollars for a paperback book… while living his “10 minute workday” and making something close to $1 million a year, working by himself.

And a similar opportunity is there for you, too. You can also create a successful business that suits exactly you, if you take it upon yourself to turn the penguins away. Even if they are cold, hungry, desperate, intrepid, and popular. And even if the decision to do so might not win you any friends or make you any money in the short term.

But before you start rubbing your hands together, let me make clear that standards are not the only thing you need to succeed.

You can sit in your darkened room, having standards and sticking to them until you’re blue in the face.

Nobody will care.

You still need the fundamentals. Like attractive offers. And good copy. And a responsive list. Mix those fundamentals with some strict standards, and then you get the success you want, how you want it.

What’s that? You want some more? Well here’s one final point:

You probably know plenty of good resources to teach you the first two fundamentals above. And you might even know a good resource to teach you the last.

But I’d like to tell you about a resource which shows you how to create a responsive list beyond anything I’ve ever seen. I became aware of this resource only recently, and completely unexpectedly. And I’ll share it in an email to my newsletter next week. If you’d like to read that when it comes out, you can sign up here.

Don’t you get sick of being right all the time?

“What do you think? I bet it’s just one guy.”

Butch Cassidy. The Sundance Kid. Their last day on Earth. ​​The two outlaws have just ridden into a Bolivian town to have a meal… and somebody starts shooting at them.

They run for cover inside a saloon.

Butch is the brains of the operation and forever the optimist. “What do you think?” he says to Sundance. “I bet it’s just one guy.”

Sundance takes off his hat and pokes it out the door. An army of guns goes off immediately. A dozen bullets whiz through the hat. Sundance stares at Butch.

“Don’t you get sick of being right all the time?”

Well? Don’t you?

Today I want to share an unpleasant but valuable truth with you. You may or may not be ready to hear it.

I first heard it from John Carlton. John says:

In order to persuade large groups of people to buy, act now, or even just begin to see your side of things… you have to see the world as it is.

Not as you wish it was. Not as you believe it should be. Not as you were told it was.

As it is. The stark, cold reality of how things actually work, and how people actually behave.

This is often scary, at first. It requires you to look behind your go-to belief systems (which you may have had since you were a kid)… to challenge authority’s version of what’s going on… and — most important — you must willingly exit the shared delusion among the majority of your fellow humans that what they say they’ll do is more important than what they actually do.

That’s not the only shared delusion among us fellow humans. There are plenty of others.

​​Such as “The One Thing”… the simple, black-and-white explanation… the leader to be obeyed or the charlatan to be mocked.

We all want to believe the world works like this. And there’s a lot of money to be made by telling people what they want to hear.

​​But like Carlton says, to make that money, it might be helpful to see the world as it is, rather than as you wish it were. Even if it means you’ll stop being right all the time.

But you know what? I’m not really talking to you. I’m talking to myself. Because check it:

A few weeks ago, I decided to unsubscribe from Ben Settle’s Email Players newsletter. I was subscribed for over 4 years. But I had my reasons to quit.

Ben is somebody I’ve learned the most from, both directly and indirectly, about this copywriting and marketing stuff. And yet, since unsubscribing from his newsletter, I notice my brain trying to make things black-and-white. To discount the things I’ve learned from him. To put them in a box of things I’ve outgrown.

My brain wants to be right. But I want to be rich.

So for your benefit as well as my own, over the next several days, I’ll tell you a few of the great things I’ve learned from Ben Settle. A few things… because there’s no “The One Thing.”

Put together, these great ideas were a central part of the success I’ve achieved so far. Perhaps they can help you too. As a sneak preview of the first of these great ideas, here’s a bit of dialogue between Butch and Sundance… right before they try to shoot their way out of the saloon, against an entire battalion of Bolivian soldiers and police:

Butch: Australia. I thought that secretly you wanted to know so I told you.

Sundance: That’s your great idea?

Butch: The latest in a long line. We get out of here alive, we go to Australia. Goodbye, Bolivia. Hello to Australia.

Real #1 proof for 2021 and beyond

“We write you because, with all you have heard and read ABOUT O. Henry’s stories, you have never yet SEEN them. You have never yet had the privilege we now offer you of ACTUALLY handling volumes — reading in your home some of these wonderful tales — proving to your own satisfaction the marvelous insight of the man, the depth of his understanding and sympathy.”

— Robert Collier, from a 1919 direct mail campaign that sold $1 million worth of O. Henry books

Demonstration is supposed to be the strongest form of proof. And I believe it, because Gary Bencivenga and Claude Hopkins say so.

That’s why demonstration is what I resort to most often in these emails. I don’t just tell you ABOUT a cool persuasion technique. I allow you to ACTUALLY SEE it.

But what if?

What if demonstration is not really tops?

Remember when Beats headphones came out? Headphone snobs were quick to point out that Beats headphones were mediocre in terms of sound quality. Even non-snobs could probably tell Beats headphones were nothing special. And yet Beats soon became one of the biggest headphone brands in the world, and sold for $3.2 billion to Apple a few years later.

Or remember the story of Coke vs. Pepsi? How Pepsi was winning the blind taste tests? And how Coke decided to change their formula… which led to a popular backlash… and a return from the ashes of “the real thing” — Coke — and not Pepsi, which tasted better?

Who knows. Maybe things were different in the time of Robert Collier. Maybe people really trusted their own opinions and experiences. And maybe getting people to try was the best way to to get them to buy. Maybe.

Whatever the case was back then, it’s not how it is today. Today it’s too hard to choose, and we no longer trust our own opinions all that deeply.

You probably see what I’m getting at. And you probably see what I believe is the real #1 type of proof, in 2021 and beyond.

Which brings me to a book I’d like to recommend on that topic. Two people I respect — one a successful marketer and business owner, and the other a copywriter at Agora — recently recommended it to me.

That’s why, even though I haven’t read this book yet, and maybe never will, I’m sure I’d like it. And that’s why I’d like to recommend it to you as well, and why I’m sure you’ll like it too. So here’s the deal:

If you’d like to know the title of this book, sign up to my email newsletter. (A bunch of direct response legends and young stars already do subscribe to it.) And then send me an email to introduce yourself. I’ll write back to you, and tell you the title of this valuable and wonderful book.

A favorite resource for persuasion secrets that make men swallow gallons of nasty, unpalatable nostrums

Today I’d like to tell you about a book that’s one of my favorite resources for persuasion secrets.

It has nothing to do with copywriting, but it came as a recommendation from an A-list copywriter. “If you understand that on a deep level,” this A-lister said about this book, “you will be able to influence people in ways you’d never dreamed possible.”

Now let me admit that when I got going with copywriting, I really didn’t get what the fuss was about these A-list copywriters.

I looked at their copy. Simple words, simple sentences, simple arguments.

“Pff,” I said. “I can do the same.”

In time, feedback from the market beat some humility into me. So when I heard that recommendation from the A-lister, I decided to follow it.

I started reading the recommended book, expecting only information. And I got that. The book talks about the hidden psychology behind the irrational, self-defeating things many of us do, often without being aware of them.

The first few chapters were interesting. Insightful. Maybe useful for work. A few times, I even felt like they were personally relevant.

But then, I started a new chapter.

Right on the first page, my skin started to crawl.

I turned the page. I cringed.

I read a bit more. My forehead began burning.

I won’t tell you exactly what was on those pages. But I will tell you in general:

Those pages were describing symptoms. Beliefs, feelings, behaviors. At work. With family. With friends. With lovers. With strangers. In private. Things you avoid. Things you do to cope.

Cope with what?

Well, that’s what the chapter was about. And I won’t tell you exactly what that was, because it was exactly describing me, and I’m secretive like that.

But I will tell you that the spot-on description of symptoms sold me on the diagnosis in the book. And the diagnosis sold me on the cure, which came a few pages later. Because as Robert Collier once wrote:

“What is it that sells patent medicines by the millions every year? What is it that makes men swallow gallons of nasty, unpalatable nostrums, pounds of seaweed, and yeast cakes put up in all manner of forms? Proof! A man describes your symptoms with such exactitude that you think he must have taken a look down your epiglottis, then assures you that one dose or a dozen pills or cakes or yeast relieved him of every trace of your ailment.”

So if you are a marketer or a copywriter, that’s my tip for you for today. Describe your market’s secret symptoms to a T… and you can sell them as many gallons of seaweed and pounds of yeast cake you like.

Of course, a part of how you do this is the usual research. Talking to your customers and leads… digging around in forums… studying successful copy from your competitors.

All that’s important. But you can go deeper. At least, A-list copywriters, like the guy I mentioned above, go deeper.

And that’s the value of this book. It spells out the symptoms for the main categories of everyday crazy. And whether you can believe me or not — almost all of us are crazy, at least here and there, about some aspect of our selves and our lives. And if somebody can convince us he knows exactly what’s ailing us… well, we become very open to influence.

So here’s my offer to you:

Sign up for my email newsletter here. That’s where I share copywriting and marketing tips in an email every day.

And once you sign up for my newsletter, send me an email at john@bejakovic.com.

I’ll tell you the name of this book, so you can get it and devour it and influence people in ways you’d never dreamed possible.

But in exchange, I’d like something from you. I’d like to know about you.

Nothing too deep.

Just send me an email, and let me know who you are… and what you’re working on right now.

And if you’re wondering why I want this sensitive information, it’s simply to inform my newsletter. I want to make it as insightful, attractive, and provocative as I can.

But for that, I need some feedback from you.

So in case I don’t know you yet… or even if I do…

And in case you want to know the name of this valuable resource… or even if you think you know it already…

Sign up for my newsletter, and then write me an email and let me know a bit about yourself. And as soon as I get your email, I’ll reply, with the name of this secret psychology book.

One of the greatest direct response mysteries of all time

“Jesus, that looks frightening.”

There are many cosmetic dentists in the town I’m staying in. Some of these dentists advertise.

So there’s a billboard down the road, and it shows a pretty girl, with perfect teeth, smiling brightly at the driver-by.

​​And then closing in on both sides of the girl’s face… approaching her like monstrous tentacles of an unseen krakken… are various dental instruments of torture — drills, picks, mirrors, and suction tubes.

Every time I pass this billboard, I shudder. It seems to be such a full-on advertising miss.

I guess they tried to associate dentistry with beauty and happiness. They wound up doing just the opposite — making a bright and happy smile look frightening. But who knows, maybe it works?

In any case, it brings to mind one of the greatest direct response mysteries of all time, at least to my mind. Because here’s a quote from Claude Hopkins, the grandfather of direct marketing and the author of the book Scientific Advertising:

Show the bright side, the happy and attractive side, not the dark and uninviting side of things. Show beauty, not homeliness; health, not sickness. Don’t show the wrinkles you propose to remove, but the face as it will appear. Your customers know all about the wrinkles.

In advertising a dentifrice, show pretty teeth, not bad teeth. Talk of coming good conditions, not conditions which exist. In advertising clothes, picture well-dressed people, not the shabby. Picture successful men, not failures, when you advertise a business course. Picture what others wish to be, not what they may be now.

We are attracted by sunshine, beauty, happiness, health, success. Then point the way to them, not the way out of the opposite.

Can this be true? But it’s got to be, right?

After all, Claude Hopkins didn’t have opinions about advertising. He had hard results — scientific advertising — based on keyed ads. The idea back of an ad either sold, or it didn’t.

But hold on. We know today, from equally scientific advertising, that the story of a fat woman humiliated at a ritzy clothing store…

T​he image of a frightened and injured dog, loose on a busy highway…

T​he snapshot of a man walking into a shopping mall, killing three people, leaving his shotgun on the counter, and walking out…

W​e know these are all are powerful ways to make a sale. Or at least my clients and I know.

Because those were all stories I used to start emails, advertorials, and sales letters. And all of them worked many times better than bright, happy, and attractive alternatives.

So what gives?

Has human nature changed so much in the last 100 years?

Or was Claude Hopkins wrong in reading the data he was getting?

Or was this just a classic case of a marketer saying one thing about his marketing… but doing another?

I don’t know. If you do, I hope you will enlighten me about this mystery. And if you’re into direct response mysteries, you might like my scary email newsletter about marketing and copywriting.