Possibly the most important lesson I've learned in this business

by Sylas
16 replies
When I put up a thread asking for a critique of my sales letter, my whole concept of what it takes to write good copy was shattered. I'd written a smarmy bit of hype to show off how I clever I was. I thought everyone would tell me how creative and savvy it was, a natural they'd call me.

That all came crashing down when couple of senior members, instead of praising me, told me in no uncertain terms how shit my letter was. It was the kick I needed to get this thing right. I contacted the biggest meanest ******* on the thread, an Australian 70-something called The Copy Nazi. I told him I wasn't going to give up. No matter what it took, I wanted to be a great copywriter. Surprised I'd come back for more, he added me on Skype and we had conversation that changed everything. With his permission, the following is a transcript of that conversation:

[5/30/13 5:22:49 PM] Malcolm Lambe:

Why don't you start by writing about something you're an expert in. Your life. In simple short sentences. Like this. You've got to find your voice. So you need to find something that "resonates". All your experiences mold who you are - and that comes across in your writing - from your choice of words and phrases. And your humour - if you have any.

If you do that...short and sweet. I'll take a look and see if I can get you headed in the right direction.

"I was born on the northern beaches of Sydney, Australia. Place called Newport Beach. Yes I know there's a few Newport Beaches around the world. But this was a bush suburb back in the Fifties. We had koalas regularly walking down the street. We had kids that went to school barefoot. We didn't have television. The plumber's family up the road had one. A 17 inch "PYE" and every afternoon there'd be twenty or so kids around it watching "The Mickey Mouse Club".

My old man worked in a soap factory. Owned by the multinational Unilever. The factory made "Sunlight" soap and Rinso detergent. My Dad was the "Safety Officer". He got that job after the war. I think one of his fellow officers had organized it. They were in the infamous Sandakan and Kuching POW camps together - courtesy of the Imperial Japanese Army.
My Dad never got over being tortured by the Japs...he's dead now but I still weep when I think or write about him (true).
Malcolm Lambe: Even though he beat the f*ck out of me when I was 16.
I ran away from home.
Not to join the circus.
I scored a job with the biggest advertising company in the world - J. Walter Thompson.

See?...I wrote that in front of you.

In about 5 minutes.

Same with copy. "Here's what I have. Here's what it does. Here's why your miserable life will be so much better if you have it too. Here's the price. Here's where to get it". The rest is just window-dressing - throwing in a few words and phrases that get people's attention. Plus a refund/P.S - all that.
But it helps if you have a good product to start with. And a good hook. You're not selling toothpaste. You're selling white teeth - that look sexy and help you get your man. "Sell the sizzle not the steak"

Basic shit.

Most writers over-sauce. Use too many herbs and spices.

[5/30/13 5:40:49 PM] Jason Miles

I was born in South Africa to a family of five. My youngest brother was 18 years old when it happened. A “pleasant surprise” they called me. It was right around the time Nelson Mandela was released from prison. Not that that mattered to me then – I was happy running around naked and trying to say “water”.

My brothers used to take baby me out in a pram on hot days. All the pretty girls would crowd around “oohing and aaahing” “What great brothers you are”. I can only imagine my brothers' stupid teenage grins.

In some ways it was great having older brothers and sisters. I was adored and spoiled rotten.
But then I look at some of the photos when they were kids and feel left out. They don't really feel like siblings to me – more like older friends I can count on.

[5/30/13 5:56:13 PM] Malcolm Lambe:

Now we're getting somewhere.

I was born in the late Seventies. In a posh suburb of Johannesburg, South Africa. We were a family of five. There was a huge age gap between me and my closest sibling. My youngest brother was 18 years old when I was born. A “pleasant surprise” they called me.

It was a time of great social change in South Africa. Apartheid was on the way out. Nelson Mandela was released from prison. Not that that mattered to me then – I was happy running around butt naked and flashing my willy at girls.

My brothers used to take me out in a pram on hot days. All the pretty girls would crowd around “oohing and aaahing”. “What great brothers you are” they'd say to them. Whilst unbeknown to them I was fiddling with my wing-wang under the blankie.

In some ways it was great having older brothers and sisters. I was adored and spoiled rotten.

But now…when I look at some of the photos from back then…I feel left out. I get this horrible maudlin feeling in my chest and feel like crying.

Stupid really. I'm a grown man of 27. But my brothers and sisters don't feel like family to me. They are more like older friends I can count on.

Weird huh? Stick around… it gets weirder…

It all started one bright Spring day back in 1987 when I was out hunting on the veldt with my springer spaniel called "Poo".
Malcolm Lambe: Now see...that could be the start of your sales pitch. FAR more interesting than that other shit you're trying to do

And you start with a headshot. Or even a baby pic.

Your first job is to get their attention. The headline's only job is to GET THEM TO READ ON. So its an ad for your ad, if you like.

Tattoo this on your arm - "Do not be a boring f*ck"

So you just need a "bridge" between that yarn and what you're flogging.

"My mentor says my writing is shite. He says I'll never cut it as a copywriter. easy for him to say. he's been at it for 40 years or something. I'm just starting out.

But you see where you could go with this? "I'm just starting out on my copywriting road less travelled. This is GOOD NEWS for you man. It means you're gonna get some great copy - maybe not "world-beating" - not yet... but you're gonna get some great copy for the price of two Happy Meals at f*cking McDonalds

It's gotta be YOUR voice - YOUR words. Otherwise it won't work.

So you MUST find your voice. I can't do that for you. You might be a humorless f*ck for all I know.
#business #important #learned #lesson #possibly
  • Profile picture of the author The Copy Nazi
    Banned
    Anyone seen my Zimmer frame? Last I saw it... was next to my surfboards.

    "The devil is in the details" by the way. You've left a lot out. I also said - "So you just need a "bridge" between that yarn and what you're flogging." [we're talking about his posting a WSO for his copywriting services]

    My mentor says my writing is shite. He says I'll never cut it as a copywriter. Easy for him to say. He's been at it for 40 years or something. I'm just starting out.
    Which obviously segués into that -
    I'm just starting out on my copywriting road less travelled. This is GOOD NEWS for you man. It means you're gonna get some great copy - maybe not "world-beating" - not yet... but you're gonna get some great copy for the price of two Happy Meals at McDonalds.
    And it needs cleaning up.

    To put this is context you need to point the reader to your other thread
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  • 2000 percent better than it was. Kudos Mal.

    For the yanks: Zimmer frame = walker.
    Signature
    Marketing is not a battle of products. It is a battle of perceptions.
    - Jack Trout
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  • Profile picture of the author The Copy Nazi
    Banned
    Here's the latest. Jason's writing is coming along.
    Know any good TEFL products mate? Just churned out this letter.


    I remember my first TEFL class well. There I was, a 19 year old kid in China, with zero experience and no idea what I was doing. By the end of it, I was almost in tears and wondering how kids could be so cruel.

    The class consisted of four 10-year-olds. In China, when kids are very young, they get to choose an English name for themselves. This name becomes their first identity, even when they're talking to other Chinese. I've seen 40 year old men here called "Timmy".

    So in my class of four I had Scott, Kitty and "Elephant". Scott was a deceptively quiet kid. The kind that would sit back and push the others to do things. Kitty was the only girl. She was happy-go-lucky and loved the attention.

    Then there was Elephant, a chubby kid with bunny teeth. He was probably the most good-natured of the bunch. Now I know you're wondering how he got that name. See, when he was in another class, the teacher decided to read "Dumbo" to them for the first time. After the story was finished, this kid, clearly enamored with the character, was now ready to choose his English name. Except he didn't want to be called Dumbo or even Timothy after Timothy Q. Mouse. No, despite the teacher's objections, he was to be named "Elephant". After a while here, you become used to little quirks like this. A man getting his hair cut in the middle of the road. Another squatting in broad daylight to relieve himself. And a kid called Elephant.

    So there I was, textbook in one hand and a meticulously detailed lesson plan in the other. First, we were going to do a 5 minute warmup. "Elicitation" the bigwigs at the TEFL institute called it. "Presentation" came next. That was the actual teaching part. It was supposed to be around 20 minutes. I can't for the life of me remember what the part after that was called but it consisted of the kids "applying what they'd learned in an educational but fun exercise". And finally, the last ten minutes were reserved for a "game".

    The trick is to introduce the game to the kids at the beginning of the lesson and convince them how fun it is. Really sell them on it. Then you say "Ok guys, we can play at the end of the lesson BUT ONLY IF you're good and do all the work." Of course, I didn't know that back then. Not that it mattered, because as you quickly learn in China, things seldom go according to plan.

    On the day in question, I somehow got it in my head to change the elicitation to an actual physical warmup. The classroom was a pretty big one on the second floor, with a space near the desks. I thought if I brought a football they would see me as a cool young teacher. One they could have fun with but also learn from. Yeah, I was wrong about that. After ten minutes of kicking the ball around the kids looked like they'd been drinking Red Bull laced with amphetamines. After 15 they had lost interest entirely were now running around the room screaming like a couple of hooligans. To top it all off, Elephant took a wild kick at the ball and sent it right through the only open window - a perfect score. And they say the Chinese can't play football.

    It took me another 15 minutes to calm the kids down and get them back in their seats in my crackly teenage voice. Finally, we could begin. The lesson was about introducing yourself. "Hello, my name is Jason and I like ice cream and going to the movies with my pet rabbit Roger." That kind of thing. Perfect as a first lesson with a new class.

    "Open your books and turn to Chapter 1." I said. No response. I asked them again. But they they weren't having any of it. They'd sensed blood in the water in the form of a fresh new teacher and were going for the kill. Not a single word of English was to be learned that day if they could help it.

    It started with Scott, as it always did.

    "Teacher, teacher, play a game." He murmured with eyes that could pierce your soul.

    "Teacher, teacher, play a game." He said again, this time louder while glancing at his partners in crime.

    It was all they needed to join the fun. First Elephant and then Kitty. All of them were now saying it. Fists started to bang on desks, creating a kind of sick rhythm for the ominous chanting.

    "Teacher, teacher, play a game."

    "Teacher, teacher, play a game."

    It went on for what seemed like hours, all the while I was trying to get them to introduce themselves. It was only when another teacher intervened that they stopped the nonsense. But by that time the lesson was already over.

    I'm proud to say I stood my ground that day. I didn't give in, even when everything seemed hopeless. I refused to cave to their demands. But I decided I had to get this right if I was going to survive in China on my own. So when I got home that night, I did all the research I could about teaching kids. After a couple of hours, I stumbled across a website that would solve all my problems. It was called "PRODUCT NAME".

    With it's help, I came back prepared. Scott, Kitty and Elephant were going to learn English no matter what. I went on to teach those same kids successfully for over a year. I'm still in contact with all of them to this day except Scott, who moved to America and gained entry into a prestigious private school.
    This is what I did with it -
    I remember teaching my first TEFL class like it was yesterday.


    There I was in beautiful downtown Shanghai and I didn't have a clue. Not a bloody clue.


    I was a 19 year old wet-behind-the-ears dreamer on my first trip abroad. By the end of that first class I was almost in tears and wondering how kids could be so cruel.


    The class consisted of four 10-year-olds - Dave Dee, Scott, Kitty and... Dumbo. I'm not kidding.


    See, when Chinese kids are very young they get to choose an English name for themselves. This name becomes their first identity, even when they're talking to other Chinese. I've seen 40 year old bald-headed men here called "Timmy".


    Dave Dee was a wiseass. Sort of kid that sits there with his arms folded, staring straight at you in defiance.


    Scott was a deceptively quiet kid. The kind that would torture cats as a hobby and push the other kids to do naughty things.


    Kitty was the only girl. She was a gap-toothed attention-seeker who loved to dance. Sort of a young Chinese Madonna.


    Then there was Dumbo - a chubby kid who farted all the time – much to the delight of his classmates.


    Dumbo, despite his name and his errant arse, turned out to be the smartest of the lot. He got his moniker from the Disney story about the big-eared elephant that could fly.


    After a while in China, you become used to little quirks like this. Things you don't see back home. Like a man getting his hair cut in the middle of the road. Another squatting in broad daylight to do a crap. And a fart-ass kid called Dumbo.


    So there I was, textbook in one hand and a meticulously detailed lesson plan in the other. First, we were going to do a 5 minute warm-up. "Elicitation" the jokers at the TEFL institute called it.


    "Presentation" came next. That was the actual teaching part. It was supposed to be around 20 minutes. I can't for the life of me remember what the part after that was called but it consisted of the kids "applying what they'd learned in an educational but fun exercise".


    And finally, the last ten minutes were reserved for a game.


    The trick was to introduce the game to the kids at the beginning of the lesson and convince them how much fun it was. Really sell them on it. Then you said "Ok guys, we can play at the end of the lesson BUT ONLY IF you're good and do all your work."


    As you quickly learn in China, things seldom go according to plan.


    On the day in question, I somehow got it in my head to change the “elicitation” to an actual physical warmup.


    The classroom was a pretty big one on the second floor, with a space near the desks. I thought if I brought a football in they would see me as a cool young teacher. One they could have fun with but also learn from.


    I was wrong about that.


    After ten minutes of kicking the ball around, the kids looked like they'd been necking Green Tea laced with “Red Bull”. Five minutes later they'd lost interest entirely and were now running around the room screaming like banshees.


    To top it off, Dumbo took a wild kick at the ball and sent it right through the window. Goal! China: 1, Teacher: Nil. Shards of glass rained down like confetti.


    It took me another 15 minutes to clean the glass up, calm the kids down and get them back in their seats. But I think they were beginning to like me. Sounds of breaking glass does that to kids.


    Finally, we began the lesson. It was about introducing yourself.


    "Hello, my name is Dumbo and I like smashing windows, ice cream and going to the movies with my pet rabbit Roger". That kind of thing. Perfect as a first lesson with a new class.


    "Open your books and turn to Chapter 1". I said. No response. I asked them again.


    They weren't having any of it. They'd sensed blood in the water in the form of a fresh new teacher and were going in for the kill. Not a single word of English was to be learned that day if they could help it.


    It started with Scott, as it always did I found out later.


    "Teacher, teacher, play a game" he said quite sweetly. And again - "Teacher, teacher, play a game". This time louder while glancing at his partners in crime.


    It was all the encouragement they needed. First Dumbo and then Kitty. All of them took it up. Fists started to bang on desks, creating a kind of tribal rhythm for the ominous chanting of "Teacher, teacher, play a game"... "Teacher, teacher, play a game".


    It got louder and louder. The natives were more than restless. “Teacher, teacher play a game”. “Teacher, teacher, play a game”. And I swear it morphed into “Teacher, teacher we're sending you insane!”


    Things were getting out of control. It went on and on, all the while I was trying to get them to introduce themselves. It was only when another teacher rushed in to intervene that they stopped the chanting. But by that time the lesson was well and truly belly-up.


    I'm proud to say I came of age that day. Confucious say: “That which doesn't destroy you, makes you stronger”.


    But I decided I had to get this TEFL lark right if I was going to survive in China on my own.


    So when I got home that night, I Googled “teaching little assholes English”. And I found a site that was just what I was looking for. It was called "Teaching English To Foreign Kids".


    With it's help, I came to the next class fully prepared. There would be no more football matches... no more swinging from the chandeliers and no more wild chanting.


    Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mitch and Titch... and Dumbo the Elephant were going to learn English no matter what.


    I went on to teach those same kids successfully for over a year. I'm still in contact with all of them to this day.


    Except Scott, who moved to the U.S. and had a hit with a rap song called...”Teacher, Teacher, play a game”. He sends me a royalty check from time to time.
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  • Profile picture of the author stuzilla
    You're my hero, Mister Copy Nazi sir.
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    • Profile picture of the author bluewatersailor
      Originally Posted by stuzilla View Post

      You're my hero, Mister Copy Nazi sir.
      Wow. I'll second that.

      This was the most powerful bit of learning about copywriting that I've run across recently. Just terrific.
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      • Profile picture of the author The Copy Nazi
        Banned
        Originally Posted by Art of Marketing View Post

        Thanks to the OP sylas for starting the thread and thanks to "Mr Copy Nazi Sir" for the upgrade to it.

        Visiting the forum is like taking vitamins...its good for you.

        Not too much tho...most things man made will jam you up over time.

        -Art
        There's a long update to this. Another Jason piece that I've tried to help him with. Quite interesting. We'll put it up tomorrow - depending on whether his first client goes ahead or not. Here's a snippet (which will make more sense after you see what he's written) -

        Here's your next "Aha" moment.

        Most copywriters are lazy buggers. They don't put in the work. They don't RESEARCH enough. Copy is probably 95% research - knowing your subject inside and out. Only when you really understand something thoroughly can you write with conviction. The words kind of write themselves after awhile.

        What is most peoples biggest fear?

        Jason Miles: Failure

        The Copy Nazi: nah - come on - fear of heights...spiders... enclosed rooms - what is the #1 fear?

        Jason Miles: that people won't like them?

        Part of it I suppose. Everyone's #1 fear is - Speaking in Public.

        Why? Because we're afraid of making a fool of ourselves. In public.

        But if you're an expert in your subject - you'd have no worries.

        If I asked you to stand up and tell everybody "The Story of my life" - you could do it - because you're the World Expert on the Subject.

        So if your gig is, say, "Kindle Publishing" - first thing you do is Google every thing about it. Buy some Kindle books. Write a Kindle book. Join Kindle book writers forums. Learn everything about it. Then the writing is a piece of cake.

        You can't fudge this step. Which is what happens when you price yourself at $197 a salespage or whatever. You can't afford to spend a week researching your subject for that kind of chump change.

        This is what the clients just don't get. Especially in these parts. You need to be constantly educating them. The time isn't in the writing - that's the easy part. The time is spent researching.

        And this is why a lot of salespages read the same. A trained monkey could write them. They're swipes of swipes - à la Clickwank salespages. They're written to a formula. Yes - the formula works - more or less. But to add the nitrous you need to go beyond that. And that's when you'll get liftoff - critical mass. Thats when the campaign will really take off.

        Don't know about you but I get sick of reading the same old shite. It insults my intelligence.

        Who else wants to get rid of dogs breath?

        I was once like you... and no bitch would have me. Until I discovered the magic way of getting rid of canine halitosis forever


        Keep reading every doggone word on this page - it will be the most exciting thing you've ever read. It will have you pissing on every lamppost within a two mile radius within minutes - guaranteed - or my name's not Huckleberry Hound.

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  • Profile picture of the author bluewatersailor
    My first reaction was "this ought to be made into a sticky as an exercise for anyone that wants to be worth a damn as a copywriter" - but what makes the magic happen is Mal's guidance, of course. Since we haven't yet discovered a way to virtualize that grumpy 70-something-surfer presence [1], I guess the world is SOL.


    [1] I have no idea what age "Mr Copy Nazi Sir" actually is, but I've known some California surfers in their 70s, as well as a weight lifter and a yoga teacher both in their 80s. So I wouldn't be surprised either way.
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    • Profile picture of the author The Copy Nazi
      Banned
      Originally Posted by bluewatersailor View Post

      My first reaction was "this ought to be made into a sticky as an exercise for anyone that wants to be worth a damn as a copywriter" - but what makes the magic happen is Mal's guidance, of course. Since we haven't yet discovered a way to virtualize that grumpy 70-something-surfer presence [1], I guess the world is SOL.


      [1] I have no idea what age "Mr Copy Nazi Sir" actually is, but I've known some California surfers in their 70s, as well as a weight lifter and a yoga teacher both in their 80s. So I wouldn't be surprised either way.
      I believe it was W.C Fields who said "You're as old as the women you feel". My wife is 37.
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  • Profile picture of the author The Copy Nazi
    Banned
    I'm shamelessly bumping this. Can help you newer guys, I think. I heard back from Jason recently. He's writing content for Chinese car sites.

    Confucius say: “I hear and I forget. I see and I remember. I do and I understand.”
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    • Profile picture of the author Alex Cohen
      Originally Posted by The Copy Nazi View Post

      I'm shamelessly bumping this. Can help you newer guys, I think. I heard back from Jason recently. He's writing content for Chinese car sites.

      Confucius say: "I hear and I forget. I see and I remember. I do and I understand."
      You forgot the 4th part of that quote: "What's a car?"
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      • Profile picture of the author max5ty
        Originally Posted by Alex Cohen View Post

        You forgot the 4th part of that quote: "What's a car?"
        Hopefully you're kidding about this post too.

        If you live in a little bubble you probably don't know...but the Chinese market is a gold mine.

        They're not all living in shacks and getting pulled around the city in those rickshaw things.

        Among the gigantic list of companies finding huge profits in China are car manufacturers.

        If you think you can make a fortune in copywriting in the U.S., take a look at what you can accomplish in China. Blows your mind.

        Already mentioned a copywriter in a previous post I know that is cleaning up with the Chinese market.

        You need to start thinking globally Alex.
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        • Profile picture of the author NickN
          Originally Posted by max5ty View Post

          Hopefully you're kidding about this post too.

          If you live in a little bubble you probably don't know...but the Chinese market is a gold mine.

          They're not all living in shacks and getting pulled around the city in those rickshaw things.

          Among the gigantic list of companies finding huge profits in China are car manufacturers.

          If you think you can make a fortune in copywriting in the U.S., take a look at what you can accomplish in China. Blows your mind.

          Already mentioned a copywriter in a previous post I know that is cleaning up with the Chinese market.

          You need to start thinking globally Alex.
          I could be wrong, but I think Alex means that Confucius wouldn't know what a car was. Not that the Chinese are piss-poor.
          Signature

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  • Profile picture of the author Ronnie Wright
    Humpty Bumpty
    Signature
    Retired Internet Marketer.
    Gone Fishing....
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  • Profile picture of the author TymBolla
    Tattoo this on your arm - "Do not be a boring f*ck"
    point on!

    but what's with the bestiality going on in this thread?
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