Robert De Niro

Copywriting is a crazy business, but it’s not unlike any other business

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A few weeks ago, a reader named Ferdinand wrote me to say he has written a book, but he is afraid to advertise it because he’s not sure it’s any good. Would I be kind and selfless enough to take a look and tell him if it’s ok to put out?

I was kind and selfless enough to respond to Ferdinand, saying that I charge people a great deal of money to review copy and content — but good on him for trying.

That was a mistake.

Because yesterday, I got a second email from Ferdinand. He said he didn’t get the precise response he was looking for with regard to the book. And that’s okay. But he still wants to bother me a little bit.

Would I give him a job? Any kind of a job? The pay doesn’t matter, as long as it’s consistent. He knows he can do more than what he’s currently doing, and copywriting is his dream, and he wants to chase it…

This reminded me of a scene in the King of Comedy.

Robert De Niro plays a wannabe standup comedian. He’s a big fan of a late-night talk show host played by Jerry Lewis.

One night, as Jerry is leaving the studio and getting into a cab, De Niro pushes his way through the crowd and jumps into the cab with Jerry.

Jerry is startled, even frightened. But De Niro reassures him. He just needs to talk for a minute. Right now, he’s working in “communications” but by nature he’s a comedian. His stuff is dynamite, it’s his dream, he just needs a break…

Once Jerry’s heart rate comes down a bit from the scare, he gives De Niro some practical advice:

“Look pal, gotta tell you… This is a crazy business, but it’s not unlike any other business. There are ground rules. And you don’t just walk on to a network show without experience. Now I know it’s an old, hackneyed expression but it happens to be the truth. You’ve got to start at the bottom.”

No?

You don’t like that old, hackneyed expression?

You want something a little more “hustle culture”-y, a little more Tim Ferriss-y? Ok, try this on and see if it fits:

In my experience in the direct response industry, it’s always a lousy idea to ask for a job. Even if you’re starting at the bottom. It’s much better to put yourself in a position where people ask you to work with them. In the words of Claude Hopkins, offer a privilege, not an inducement.

Are you still with me? That’s surprising. But in that case, you might get value from other emails and essays I write. In case you want to read them, you can sign up to my daily email newsletter.

Send the juices rushing back to your prospect’s manhood with a new diagnosis

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“You start with the pills, next thing you know you got implants with pumps. I think a hard-on should be gotten legitimately or not at all.”

That’s a bit of dialogue from 1999’s Analyze This.

Mafia boss Paul Vitti, played by Robert De Niro, is having problems. Hard-on failures are a part of it.

So he barges into the office of Dr. Ben Sobel, a New York shrink, played by Billy Crystal.

Vitti doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. All he knows is he gets choked up all the time, he cries without reason, he’s uncomfortable hanging out with the guys he’s grown up with. And then there’s the hard-on issue.

“Have you been under a lot of stress lately?” Dr. Sobel asks him.

“You mean like seeing your best friend murdered?” Vitti shoots back. “Yeah, I got stress.”

Dr. Sobel shrugs his shoulders and makes his first-level diagnosis: It’s probably the stress that’s causing all of Vitti’s symptoms.

Vitti visibly brightens at this. He smiles and points his finger at Dr. Sobel.

“You… YOU… you’re very good, doc,” he says. “You’re right on the money. I can feel the juices rushing back to my manhood as we speak.”

I rewatched this movie recently. It’s not very good overall, but I watched it specifically for this scene, because it’s a great (if caricatured) illustration of the power of making a new diagnosis.

And of course this goes for marketing too:

Your prospect out there has vague or intractable problems. All he knows is he doesn’t feel right. The symptoms he can point to are not something he understands, or can fix himself.

And then you, as the marketer, kindly sit him down on your couch, and you give him a diagnosis he’s never heard before:

“You’re under stress.”

Or…

“You’re a bright-shiny-object addict.”

Or…

“You have hypothyroidism.”

Once you make your new diagnosis, your prospect sees the fog lifted from before his eyes. For that moment at least, he lights up, and he thinks his problem has been solved, or at least can be solved. He feels the juices flowing back to his manhood… or womanhood.

More importantly, in that moment, he think you, YOU, are very good. And he’s willing to follow your lead, even as you explain how your product or service naturally addresses the underlying cause of his problems.

Of course, in Analyze This, the true underlying cause of Vitti’s problems turned out to be more complex than simple stress.

The same will probably happen in your prospect’s life. But if you do an honest enough job of delivering the diagnosis for the surface-level symptoms… and if your recommendation based on that diagnosis isn’t too self-serving… then your patient, I mean prospect, will still listen to you when you offer to solve the deeper problems in his life.

Midnight Run pattern interrupt

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“Did you ever have sex with an animal, Jack?”

I’ve been running a fever for the past 48 hours. So I decided to download a movie to make the time pass.

The movie is called Midnight Run, and it’s a 1980s comedy starring Robert De Niro and Charles Grodin. De Niro plays Jack Walsh, a bounty hunter who’s in charge of bringing in John “Duke” Mardukas, an accountant (played by Grodin) who stole $15 million from the mob.

At one point, Jack and the Duke are on a train. Jack decides he won’t talk to the Duke any more because it’s all business and because the Duke is annoying him.

It’s an awkward situation. Just silence in the air. And then, the Duke starts talking. But he’s not getting a response out of Jack. So he says:

“Did you ever have sex with an animal, Jack? Remember those chickens around the Indian reservation? There were some good-looking chickens there, Jack, you know, between us.”

Jack smiles.

“Yeah there were a couple there that I might have taken a shot at.”

And the next thing you know, the Duke and Jack are laughing and talking again.

That is an example of a pattern interrupt. In copywriting circles, this term is often used to describe a surprising first sentence to suck readers into the rest of your copy. But a pattern interrupt is something broader and more powerful.

It comes from NLP, or at least I think so, based on some Tony Robbins tapes I’m listening to. Says Tony, it’s easy to completely change how you think and feel, even about things that have been bothering you for years. All it takes are three steps:

First, you have to get leverage — in other words, you have to have a strong reason to want to change.

Second, you interrupt your current, negative pattern of thought or behavior by doing something unexpected.

Third, you create a new, more useful pattern for yourself.

It’s a simple process and useful if you’re trying to make yourself into a happier, more productive person. But it works just as well on other people as on yourself. So if somebody around you starts getting sucked into a negative pattern you don’t like, try asking them, for example, if they’ve ever had sex with an animal.