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.