The first frame is the worst frame

I have a fish I’d like to sell you today. It’s not a freshly caught fish.

​​It’s actually been sitting around for 18 months. But trust me, this particular fish has hardly spoiled with time.

​​Today it’s just as tasty and nutritious, well almost, as it was 18 months ago, the day that it was caught.

So are you interested? How much would you pay for this fish?

A lot?

A little?

A negative amount? Would you actually pay me to keep this fish away from you?

One day last week, I got a newsletter email from a marketer. The email started off with something like, “I don’t have a lot of time today. So I’m resending a really good email that I wrote a long time ago.”

​​And then below that, there was the 18-month-old email, looking at me with its dead, clouded, fishy eyes.

Actually, I just assume that that’s how the old email was looking at me. I didn’t even check. As soon as I saw that intro about not having time and about resending an old email, I clicked away.

The point of my message today — the freshly caught fish I am actually trying to sell you — is not to say you should never reuse old emails.

My point is simply to be mindful of how you frame your message. Because often, the first frame that our minds jump to is the worst frame.

I’ve seen beginner freelance copywriters try to sell themselves. They do so by framing their message with an explanation of how they are new in the industry and how they have no experience.

I’ve seen business owners try to sell their products. They start off their sales letters by telling the unremarkable life story that brought them to the moment of sitting down to write that sales letter.

In all these cases — the re-warmed 18-month-old email, the self-defeating self-promotion, the boring and pointless sales letter — the problem is the natural human desire, or perhaps need, to explain ourselves.

Don’t explain yourself. Nobody cares. And it’s hurting your message.

Instead, think of how to frame your message so it has the best chance of influencing your reader.

Trumpet your own authority. Or soothe your reader’s ego. Or if you’re truly selling a fish that was caught 18 months ago, then say this thing is delicious and nutritious — and stop yourself there.

But enough fish-mongering. If you’d like to read my emails regularly, and see how I never apologize for the content I send, then sign up for my newsletter here.