At this moment I’m sitting in #DMA2011 listening to Biz Stone and trying to follow the stream on his tool… wait, that sounds odd. What I’m doing is watching the tweetstream on my preferred reader (Hootsuite) which though it does not say so is only bringing me the Top Tweets as defined by Twitter’s recently instituted algorithm. And then I have my twitter.com open manually reset to “all” with the #dma2011 hashtag and I’m getting so many more tweets and it is so much more interesting.
The irony of Twitter filtering our results, so only the cool guys show up, is that it’s exactly the opposite of the behavior that caused Twitter to catch fire at SXSW 2008 (or was it 2009?)… people in a session tweeting that there was a better session next door and everybody gets up and leaves because everybody is tweeting and following the same hashtag. If only the Top Tweets were permitted those folks would probably still be sitting in that room at the Austin Convention Center.
Just sayin. You can find a less instantaneous, more well-thought commentary on Top Tweets here.
A money-back guarantee is essential to any web or direct marketing offer. It takes care of an enormous concern on the part of the buyer: I can’t see this product before I order… so, what if I get it and I don’t like it?
That’s the simple and unequivocal answer to a question you may be asked by your clients: “Do I need a guarantee?” Yes, of course you do. The next question is how generous is your guarantee, and how scrupulous will you be in honoring it?
One of my early bosses was a master of deception… I don’t think he would mind me referring to him as such because it was a point of pride to him that he could persuade people to buy products at much more than their true value. He tried to show me how to insert wiggle room in the guarantee so it would never need to be honored. But even as a naïve young marketer I knew this was not a good idea.
The people who intend to take advantage of you will find a way to do so. They’ll claim the product was damaged or simply never arrived. They’ll protest their credit card bill. Defending yourself against them is futile and by trying to do so with a miserly or weasel-worded guarantee you’ll cause yourself far more damage among the majority of honest customers who will now be less confident about ordering from you.
At one point in my career, I wrote a lot of promos for investment newsletters. The standard guarantee was “a prompt prorata refund of your subscription cost for all unmailed issues”. What hokum. The cost of the physical issues was negligible and the real product was intellectual property; if the reader no longer values that product why force them to pay for it?
We were able to change the standard wording to something like, “100% refund of your entire subscription price even if you cancel on the very last issue” and guess what? Refunds did not go through the roof because most subscribers do not make a mental note that okay, I can game the publisher a year from now and get my money back. Rather they make a decision about whether or not the product is for them based on their first experiences with it. A generous guarantee simply removes the roadblocks in this decision process.
My favorite guarantee is still Lands Ends’ “Guaranteed. Period.” It’s gutsy that the uncompromising language has been maintained since Lands End was acquired by Sears, but when you think about it this guarantee simply puts in writing what most retailers would offer their customers. If you don’t like it and you take the trouble to bring it back to the store, we are going to give your money back regardless of whether we think it’s justified because we don’t want an angry customer roaming the corridors.
So, copywriters, always include a guarantee—and tell the art director to put it on a fancy safety-paper background to make it look valuable. Maybe your client will protest that “we don’t actually have a return policy” to which your answer is “you should, and you do now.”
You, a freelance creative, buy a plane ticket to go and see a client. You rebill the ticket at cost and your client pays you back. So, if you need to state a number when you’re applying for a credit line or some such, should you include the value of that ticket in your revenues?
Of course not. That pass through expense has nothing to do with your business; it’s just money that appears on your balance sheet on its way from one place to another. Or to quote the wonderful though wonky Grumpy Old Accountants website, “SEC Staff Accounting Bulletin 101 on Revenue Recognition, Question 10 specifically, is congruent with EITF 99-19. The SEC stated that firms should report revenues on a net basis if they did not take title to the products, did not have the risk and rewards of ownership, and acted as an agent or broker.”
Groupon did not get the memo. They have been booking the full value of their coupon sales as revenue, not accounting for the fact that a large percentage of what they are collecting is going to go into the pockets of retailers and they are just a conduit. As a result, yesterday Groupon had to restate its revenues and reduce them by 50%, while incidentally announcing their recently hired CEO is on her way back to Google.
So much for that IPO. And perhaps much of that money that Groupon collected on the premise that its copywriters are worth $6 billion will have to be returned, since it was based on the misstated revenues. As I mentioned in that earlier post, retailers like the results that they get with Groupon but resent the charges which are higher than with other social couponing sites. It would be a lot of fun to be a LivingSocial or BlackBoardEats rep calling on your prospects next week, would it not?
I hope Groupon does not go down in flames because I think the quality of its creative expression (along with excellent, rock-solid marketing) has been the decider. You may have noticed that the Groupon “Voice” now extends no further than the opening sentence or two of most offers; after that it is straightforward, though good, marketing copy. But this is offset by the wonderful temporary insanity of the “Groupon Says” feature at the bottom of the offer page.
Google copywriters: if you guys get laid off, give otisregrets a call and let’s talk about some mutual opportunities.
DMA2011, the annual conference of the Direct Marketing Association, starts in Boston the first weekend in October… that’s soon! I am on a panel with colleagues Nancy Wahl, Alan Rosenspan and Carol Worthington Levy at 3 pm Monday afternoon, October 4. The topic is “Mundane, Inane and Boring Creative” and evidently we are going to try and outdo one another by seeing who can put the audience to sleep fastest with campaigns that never should have seen the light of day or, if they did, succeeded in spite of themselves.
I just got a preview of my fellow panelists’ slide decks and there is some pretty outrageous stuff there. At the end of the hour the audience will be invited to vote on who was the most mundane, inane or boring and the winner will be doused in the chill waters of Boston Harbor just outside the convention center. It’s an experience not to be missed!
If you haven’t yet registered for the DMA, you can still do so here. Try entering “friends and family” code AN614 which will hopefully give you a discount on your conference price. See you there.
Since I’m still a Netflix customer (at least until 9/24 when the new pricing kicks in per my billing date) I was a recipient of the soon-to-become-infamous email from Reed Hastings in my in-box this morning, which opens “I messed up. I owe you an explanation.”
I would have liked “apology” which would indicate a price rollback but “explanation” carries no such connotation and indeed regarding the pricing, Hastings informs us “we’re done with that!” The explanation is of the rationale behind splitting the streaming and DVD-delivery services; the mess-up was in not explaining it properly to consumers, which he now does in the email and more extensively in his own blog.
The streaming video service is now Netflix and the DVDs are about to become “Quikster”, a new orphan brand, suggesting that the “familiar red envelope” is about to become the equivalent of “AOL dial-up”, an analogy Hastings uses in his message though not exactly in that way.
I am fascinated by this turn of events. It’s like that story of the backpacker who cuts off his own arm to escape and save his life. It’s like watching Wil. E. Coyote standing his ground as the roadrunner approaches at full speed. And I am especially fascinated by evidence the decision was not made with full benefit of research and reflection by one of the world’s most recognizable brands. Do a web search for “quickster” and “quikster” (results will be roughly the same) and right now the top two hits are for an Amway-related scandal involving a like-sounding product, and a rather risqué definition on urbandictionary.com. Look up quikster.com on the internet registries and you’ll find the registration changed just a couple of weeks ago and as of this morning quikster.net and quikster.org were still available for purchase, suggesting haste and confusion in the name-changing.
I plan to stay tuned…. Though perhaps not as a Quikster customer.
UPDATE: just a few hours later, those web search results have changed quite a bit… I hope you will take my word as to what they looked like about 7 am Eastern this morning. Also with more reflection, I want to point out a huge failing of Quikster as a brand identity: it does nothing to say what this product or service actually does, other than the fact that it’s fast. I’m guessing that QuickFlix and QuikFlix were taken?
There is plenty of research to suggest that, after the opening, the P.S. is the most-read element of a direct mail letter. Similarly, MarketingSherpa did an analysis of links within emails and that found that the number of clicks goes down with each successive link after the first one in the message—until the link at the very end, which is the second most-clicked link of them all.
We marketers have only ourselves to thank for this phenomenon: we’ve trained our readers to know that the end of the letter will have a recap of the offer and a direct call to action. If they don’t feel like reading, they can cut to the chase by going to the P.S. That’s why you should use the P.S. appropriately to give people what they are looking for.
The classic use of the P.S. is to recap the entire marketing proposition in a paragraph. St. Jude Hospital did that by adding this P.S. which, according to Herschell Gordon Lewis, produced a 19% increase in response with absolutely no other changes in the letter:
P.S. I hope that your own family never suffers the tragedy of losing a child to an incurable disease. At St. Jude, we’re fighting to conquer these killers, and one day someone in your own family may live because we succeeded.
You can also use the P.S. to:
Tease the reader back into the letter, with a phrase that harkens back to something you said previously that of course they didn’t read: “Remember that limited time offer I told you about earlier? Well, here’s one more reason you shouldn’t let this opportunity get away…” Works well if you have a very rich, multi-part offer that you want to reveal in stages.
Bring in one fresh benefit which is so powerful that it deserves its own showcase. Richard Potter did this in a way I love for a letter for AAA. It says something like: “I almost forgot! Respond now and you’ll get a FREE United States Map Book in addition to the member savings I mentioned earlier.”
Fire your twin guns of “act now before it’s too late” and “with our no-risk guarantee there’s no reason not to say yes”. Putting these strong closing statements in the P.S. serves a double purpose: they seal the deal with somebody who has stayed with you throughout the letter, and they make a compelling argument to someone who has just started reading.
Are there letters that shouldn’t have a P.S.? Perhaps. “Real” business letters don’t have them, of course, and if verisimilitude is important then maybe you want to close with the signature. Also, a very short letter has less reason for a P.S. But the P.S. is powerful. Don’t give it up without serious consideration.
There’s been a nice thread on LinkedIn recently called “The (surprisingly) best time to quote your price.” Apart from that copywriter-ish tease, the discussion has been about whether you should immediately provide an estimate when you speak with a client, or wait till you’ve discussed the project and put forth a few ideas to demonstrate your expertise.
Copywriter Michael Gorga mentioned a red flag to watch for: the prospective client who says “but I just need a brochure [or site map, response form, landing page, fill in the blanks].” As if all your research and prep can be dispensed with because the client just needs this one specific element.
When people ask me to quote price, I always tell them I am going to do 10-15 hours of prep before I can even begin to give them a deliverable. And that’s the truth. Someone who would generate copy without a fundamental understanding of the product, the market and the competitive environment is not a copywriter, but a typist.
Michael Gorga had another red flag: the client who has never worked with a copywriter before, and would write it themselves except they’re ” too busy”. If they don’t understand the value you provide, they’re unlikely to pay your rate.
The complete thread is available here. It’s within the “Claude C. Hopkins Copywriter” group, so you may need to join the group to see it.
What do you do when you get an assignment in an entirely new area, for a product you’ve never written about? Here are a few seat-of-the-pants research strategies to wrap your mind around the project.
1. Read what your audience reads. Is the campaign running on audience-specific websites? Or mailing to subscription lists? Reading the pubs can give you clues about what interests your prospects and what level of writing they’re used to seeing. One timesaving tip for magazines: look at the publisher’s column in the front of the book. These are usually fairly vapid puff pieces which appeal to what the publisher or editor thinks the audience wants to read. You can do better writing than this, and you will, but looking at the topics in the publisher’s column gives you quick insights.
2. Study the competition. The web offers a wealth of free competitive research for copywriters. Find out who your client considers major competitors and also do searches using their keywords to see who else comes up, then study the way those competitors are marketing themselves. As a bonus, you may find links to research and stats you can repurpose for your own client. (But be sure to follow the links to their source, rather than quoting a competitor directly. The stats may be erroneous or proprietary and besides, plagiarism is never okay.)
3. Read the product manual or documentation. Some manuals are overly technical or poorly written, but every now and then you’ll find that a good technical writer has done the groundwork of testing a product and finding the best way to assemble and use it for quick satisfaction. That’s a boon for you.
4. Talk to the product manager. In a technology company, the product manager is the link between engineering and sales. They know how the product works and they are able to explain it in a way that makes sense to a non-technical audience. They also know how the hot buttons that appeal to their target audience in demos and at trade shows.
5. Talk to the sales team… maybe. Some salespeople focus on “people skills” and pride themselves on being able to close on the strength of their personality, not product benefits. You’ll come away with a string of generalities that aren’t convincing when you set them down in writing. But if you ask them what are the most common concerns or objections they hear on a sales call and how they respond, even non-technical salespeople may reveal strategy points that the internal marketing people don’t know about.
6. Talk to customers. This is a tricky one. Somebody who actually uses the product can be a great source of insight as well as potential quotes or even copy platforms. However, your client may not be comfortable putting you in front of a customer directly. And the customer may expect that there’s something in it for them—they’ll get their name in print with a testimonial (perhaps a terrible one they have prewritten for you) or maybe some free samples. So be careful. Tell them at the outset that you’ll try not to take much of their time and thank them profusely, letting them know by implication that thanks are all they’re getting from you.
In the Biblical Book of 1 Kings, Solomon must judge which of two women is the mother of a baby and, as a marketing experiment, he offers to split it in half. The bogus mom says “go for it” while of course the real mother says “she can have it, spare my child!”
This lesson was not lost on the new crop of marketers who seem to be in place at the World Wildlife Fund. They worry about which species you might like to support, so they give you a choice. Select a panda, polar bear or tiger, and to hell with the other two.
Of course, that’s not exactly what is happening. WWF wants you to “choose your favorite species” and they will send you a “symbolic adoption kit” consisting of an adorable stuffed panda/tiger/polar bear, matching tote bag, adoption certificate and “information brochure” when you make a commitment of $8 per month.
What is wrong with this campaign is a tone deaf absence of common sense. If you are a person committed to supporting threatened nature, “choose your favorite species” is fingernails on a chalkboard or a punch in the solar plexus. And as an adoptive parent I can tell you the concept of “symbolic adoption” is like that turd in the pie in The Help—gag-inducing repugnant. Adoption is like pregnancy. It is or it isn’t, no qualifiers allowed.
The devils that infest this package do more damage in the letter, whose first paragraph in its entirety is “You hear it every day:” Holy endangered pythons. Can you imagine a worse way to begin a letter than by acknowledging I am going to talk to you about something you already know? Then the final and fatal self-inflicted wound is delivered in the response device which, after all the lead-up in the letter and doubtless the campaign planning, reassures on the panel the recipient sees when opening the envelope that this is a “one-time gift”.
I actually have some inkling where this misbegotten concept originated. When my older son (not the “symbolic adopted” one) was about 4 years old, his big sister gave him an adoption certificate for an Asian tiger he was going to save through her gift. He was bummed because first, he wanted a stuffed tiger and second, he did not think he was up to caring for a real tiger.
You can see the wheels turning at WWF’s marketing department, before they came off. Great idea for grandparents! The kids are confused by the idea of “adoption” so let’s make it “symbolic”. And since polar bears, pandas and tigers are all just so cute, let’s give them a choice which they want to protect!
Sorry if I am on a bit of a high horse here, but we are not selling Bass-O-Matics®. This is a legitimate and well established not-for-profit with a very clearly defined mission. The sin, and let’s use that weighted word rather than just calling it a boneheaded mistake, was in forgetting a/who we are and b/who our audience is and c/where our mission and message intersects with their passion and desires.
If you’re a copywriter with recurring clients, you know this. An experienced WWF copywriter never would have come up with this concept because you have your client’s brand statement stapled on the wall of your studio if not tattooed on your brain pan. Pandas, tigers, polar bears, there’s room for everyone. Can we all get along?
After I had been working as a copywriter for several years, and long after I stopped trying to get my big break in the film business, I realized why I had never sold a screenplay: I didn’t try hard enough. (Well, the quality of the work may have had something to do with it too…) I’d be so full of myself at the end of my final draft that I’d just drop it off at the desk of an agent or reviewer and wait for the adoring comments and contracts which somehow never materialized.
Many mediocre copywriters have the same problem with their work. They don’t realize that telling a story isn’t enough. They need to sell it, by continually staying on form with benefits to tie into features and urgent appeals to act now and avoid missing out. And, they need to reach deep into themselves to continually entertain or move the reader so they can keep them on the hook.
Here, as elsewhere, the 80/20 rule applies. 40% of your audience (if you’re lucky) may be predisposed toward your product or service and don’t really need to be sold. Another 40% will never buy no matter how persuasive you may be. The final 20% is your audience: the marginal prospect who may buy, but only if you persuade them. Keep that marginal buyer in your sights and you will be less likely to become either discouraged or complacent.
