I create ideas & words that cut thru the clutter & generate response / Started at David Ogilvy's ad agency / $1B+ in successes for clients from P&G to startups
The "secrets" of my success...
1. Starting at Ogilvy and getting a first-class introduction to "Madison Avenue" ad agency advertising (it's where I learned to balance great creativity with great salesmanship)
2. Working on direct response for super-savvy clients like Boardroom/Bottom Line, Rodale, Agora, Procter & Gamble, and so many others — and constantly seeing the results of my efforts
3. Teaming up with great writers and seeing how they work, getting their critiques, and picking their brains — including Jim Rutz, Jim Punkre, Dan Rosenthal, and John Carlton
4. Competing against great writers, which forced me to constantly up my game
5. Working on many different types of projects, from traditional radio and TV commercials and print ads to direct mail, infomercials, VSLs, online ads, and online sales pages (not to mention a few jingles)
6. Working on an incredibly wide variety of products and services — from toilet cleaner and laundry detergent to industrial o-rings to $20,000 high-end seminars
7. Getting exposure to hundreds of different markets and niches, where I learned the best practices of each
8. Having been at this for awhile
Here's a story I tell my students and clients who use AI to write copy…
I was once creative director for a direct response agency that hosted elaborate dinners for our clients. The president was particularly fussy about one thing: the water glasses. They could only be the finest crystal.
When I asked him why he would pay $150 per glass for high-end crystal, he gently tapped one of the empty glasses. It rang like a bell and seemed to want to go on vibrating forever.
“That’s why,” he said.
Test your copy — especially AI-assisted copy — the same way. Give it a tap by reading it aloud. Does it vibrate with life as if there’s clearly a living, breathing, feeling human behind it?
Or does it clunk like cheap glassware?
Every writer wants to be able to write with the clarity and simplicity of Hemingway.
But few are willing to put in the real effort that it takes.
Here's a start...
Take his opening paragraph of A Farewell to Arms.
"In the late summer of that year we lived in a house in a village that looked across the river and the plain to the mountains. In the bed of the river there were pebbles and boulders, dry and white in the sun, and the water was clear and swiftly moving and blue in the channels."
Read it over a few times. Then look away and try to reproduce it. Notice where you struggle. Now go back and re-read the actual paragraph.
See how he solved the problems you struggled with, how he was able to be simple yet physically and emotionally evocative.
Try again. Notice how you're starting to appreciate what Hemingway does on a much deeper, more actionable level.
This is what learning scientists call "productive failure," and I explore it more deeply in an article I just posted. (Check it out in the first comment.)
I forgot about Hunter doing that. Thank you!
When I stayed at the Seal Rock Inn in San Francisco I was in a room one floor down from where he stayed for a few weeks and wrote Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail.
I got goosebumps knowing that.
He even mentioned by hotel in the book and described how it's the end of the line for the Geary Street busses.
Positively correct, Svet.
I also like the "we don't deserve your money."
You don't want it to seem like you'll grudgingly refund their money.
You want it to seem like if they're less than thrilled, you won't rest until their money gets back to them and the universe has returned to alignment.
@AndrewWriteCopy Yeah, I've always been conflicted about them.
On the one hand, they help clarify and prepare for what's to come.
On the other, they look unfinished.
There was an article the other day in the Wall Street Journal about how writers, driven by the growing antipathy for “AI slop,” are deliberately trying to disguise AI-generated copy.
They’re inserting typos and colloquialisms such as “hey,” “yo,” and “for real.”
They’re deleting or double-dashing em-dashes, and covering up AI’s incriminating mannerisms, such as “It’s not X, it’s Y,” and doing away with phrases like “essential for” and “rather than.”
I’m reminded of the movie Weekend at Bernie’s, where the main characters try to make a corpse (Bernie) seem alive by shoving sunglasses on him, propping him up, and pushing him around in a wheelchair to parties.
Copy that resonates as real doesn't just avoid superficial AI "tells." It has humanness baked into it from the start.
@emiliesyverson Exactly — it's not just the superficial stuff, the roboticness is baked in.
So, as AI might say: It's not a renovation. It's a reconstruction.
@AndrewWriteCopy The curse of the sequel. (Except for The Godfather 2 and maybe, I hear, Devil Wears Prada.)
Good to know the first 30 minutes are hilarious, though.
Great copy often mirrors a fairy tale—your prospect faces the dark unknown, until your magical solution transforms everything. Happily ever after, guaranteed.