Christopher Nolan

Don’t start your sales letters like this

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“This was not a guy you wanted to mess with before lunch. He was large and threatening… Half his face was covered with a kind of breathing apparatus… He spoke in a strange, mechanical voice. And to make it all the worse, he was as cool as a gherkin and seemed prepared for any eventuality. That’s why his minions followed him blindly, and even his allies feared him. Who was this dangerous man? All we know is his name. He was called Bane.”

So begins Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight Rises.

​​With the above spoken-word monologue, the narrator introduces the main villain, Bane.

It’s only after this intro that we get into the rest of the movie, where Bane and Batman work out their relationship problems in sewers and on rooftops.

Maybe you’re puzzled. Don’t be. You’re not going crazy. This of course is not how The Dark Knight really starts.

The real movie starts in a plane, where Bane pretends to be a hostage. Except of course he’s not. ​​His minions come in a bigger plane, use a crane to lift up the first plane, blow a hole in the tail section. Whatever. You’ve probably seen the movie. And even if you haven’t, the point is simply this:

Hollywood blockbusters do not start with a narrator talking you into the story. Instead, they start with a dramatic scene, which introduces the characters and sets the mood.

There’s a valuable lesson in there. Here’s why I bring it up:

A lot of copy I see starts in the narrator style above. “I have a problem. It’s really bad. I’ve tried all the solutions but nothing is working. It is making my life miserable.”

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not picking on anybody. I used to write like this myself until I learned better. Even now, it’s still easy for me to slip into this narrator style. And at least I’m talking about the problem.

The trouble is that many people who make good direct response prospect won’t respond to this copy. They have either seen too many such ads and they won’t get sucked in… or they don’t (yet) identify with the problem you are calling out — and they won’t get sucked in.

The solution comes straight out of Hollywood. Don’t talk. Don’t tell. Instead show. Start your sales letter — or advertorial or whatever — with a dramatic scene. “This happened and then there was an explosion, and I winced in pain.” By the way, there’s got to be pain. Or at least anxiety, anger, or envy. We’re talking direct response copywriting, after all.

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About those “nice and genuine” gurus…

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I got the following earnest question a few days ago:

“Among all of the A-List direct response copywriters that you’ve been able to meet, who was the nicest and most genuine? And did he/she share a golden piece of advice that made a difference in your development as a writer/marketer?”

As for the one golden secret whispered to me by an A-list copywriter… there was none. I studied the same stuff that’s available to everyone, much of it for free or in affordable old books.

But as for that nicest and most genuine part… well, let me tell you a story. I’ve told this story before, but it seems to need repeating.

Some time ago, I found myself in a semi-private setting with a successful online guru. I won’t say who he is or what he sells. But I will tell you he is a genuinely nice guy. Warm, cheery, helpful.

And not only that. He’s also very clean-cut. A true family man, very devoted to his faith.

So in this private setting, I listened to this guru tell his origin story.

It was dramatic, inspiring, and really ideal for that setting. I won’t retell it here because I don’t want to identify the guy. But let me compare it to the first time the Joker tells his backstory in Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight:

“You wanna know how I got these scars? My father was a drinker and a fiend. And one night…”

A few days later, I heard a recording of a different semi-private event. One I had not attended. It featured the same genuinely nice, clean-cut guru telling his rags-to-riches origin story.

Again, I won’t retell it here. But it’s comparable to the Joker saying a bit later in the movie,

“Do you wanna know how I got these scars? So I had a wife who tells me I worry too much…”

In other words, the story finished in the same place. But all the details, big and small, leading up to that point, were different.

A completely different origin story. Incompatible with the first version I had heard. But again, perfectly fitted to this second environment.

So what’s my point?

Rather than spelling it out, I’d like to invite you to draw your own conclusion today.

But if you really want to know the unsettling lesson I take away from the story above… well, I’ll share that with you in my email tomorrow. You can sign up here if you’d like to read that.

Don’t start your sales letters like this

by

“This was not a guy you wanted to mess with before lunch. He was large and threatening… Half his face was covered with a kind of breathing apparatus… He spoke in a strange, mechanical voice. And to make it all worse, he was as cool as a gherkin and seemed prepared for any eventuality. That’s why his minions followed him blindly, and even his allies feared him. Who was this dangerous man? All we know is his name. He was called Bane.”

So begins Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight Rises.

​​With the above monologue, the narrator introduces the main villain, Bane, and then we get into the rest of the movie, where Bane and Batman work out their relationship problems in sewers and on rooftops.

Maybe you’re puzzled. Don’t be. You’re not going crazy. This of course is not how The Dark Knight really starts.

The real movie starts in a plane, where Bane pretends to be a hostage. Except of course he’s not. ​​His minions come in a bigger plane, use a crane to lift up the first plane, blow a hole in the tail section. Whatever. You’ve probably seen the movie. And even if you haven’t, the point is simply this:

Hollywood blockbusters do not start with a narrator talking you into the story. Instead, they start with a dramatic scene, which introduces the characters and sets the mood.

There’s a valuable lesson in there. Here’s why I bring it up:

A lot of copy I see starts in the narrator style above. “I have a problem. It’s really bad. I’ve tried all the solutions but nothing is working. It is making my life miserable.”

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not picking on anybody. I used to write like this myself until I learned better. Even now, it’s still easy for me to slip into this narrator style. And at least I’m talking about the problem.

The trouble is that many people who make good direct response prospect won’t respond to this copy. They have either seen too many such ads and they won’t get sucked in… or they don’t (yet) identify with the problem you are calling out — and they won’t get sucked in.

The solution comes straight out of Hollywood. Don’t talk. Don’t tell. Instead show. Start your sales letter — or advertorial or whatever — with a dramatic scene. “This happened and then there was an explosion, and I winced in pain.” By the way, there’s got to be pain. Or at least anxiety, anger, or envy. We’re talking direct response copywriting, after all.

Want more copywriting lessons? Or just more fake Hollywood intros? Sign up for my daily email newsletter.