Impersonation, Knowledge & Mudslinging.

No matter who we’re writing to, we’re always selling the same thing: Response. Persuading people to actually say “Yeah, I want that, here’s my money” is hard as hell, but it’s a little easier if we take the right first steps. (Isn’t everything?)

Be the audience:

Amazing but true. In a lot of agencies, copywriters have no idea who they’re writing to.1 Nobody tells them. Years ago, David Ogilvy, or his brother – I forget which – wrote a direct mail letter in Greek and sent it to headmasters of British schools. Huge success because he knew who his target audience was and he became one of them.

If you don’t know your audience, you can’t get into their skin and if you can’t get into their skin, you’ll find persuading them is unnecessarily difficult. “Being the audience” will give you a non-fake personality, a tone and an attitude your readers can relate to. You’ll be halfway home before you even start.

1 Copywriters would almost never write “… to whom they’re writing.”

Know your stuff:

There is no substitute for knowing what you’re talking about. You’re supposed to get the info you need in what’s called a Creative Brief. Once upon a time, briefs were crammed with information. Now they’re not. Instead, they’re filled with corporate gobbledygook and cover-your-ass generalities. Read the brief anyway, if you’re lucky enough to get one, and take notes. Then ask as many questions as you can get away with, do some research on your own and write your own damned brief.

You do this for the simple reason that if you don’t know what you’re talking about, your copy might sing but it’ll reek of bullshit and much of your target audience will smell it and recoil in horror.

IMPORTANT BALLSY MOVE: If you need to know something important and nobody will tell you and it’s not the kind of thing you can find on your own, make it up. Someone who does know will be delighted to correct you, in a meeting, of course. It’s annoying, but you’ll have your fact.

Now start writing:

Write everything you know that might persuade your reader – yourself –
to respond. Let it all hang. Do it in one swell swoop. Don’t stop to think, don’t worry about typos, punctuation, language, your “craft”. Forget all that.

Imagine you’re sitting in a bar with your prospect and you’re talking. Throw everything you’ve got against the wall. Don’t worry if some of it won’t stick. This is your first draft. It should be 4, maybe 5, times longer than the final draft which is a long way away.

When you’re finished, save it, print it, staple it and put it on a shelf for a day. Your mudslinging’s done. You’ll clean up the mess tomorrow.

Next day, sit and read it through from start to finish on paper, not on your computer. Then go through it again with a pencil, crossing things out, adding a few things here and there, using arrows and circles to indicate moving concepts around. When you think you’re done, you’re not even half way.

Transfer all this to the computer version of the first draft and save it as a second document with its own name. Draft 2 is good name. Print it and attack it again with the pencil, determined to cut it by 50%. Draft 3.

Now you’re getting closer. Time to quit for the day.

Cut draft 3 by another 50% or so. Check for “voice” and make sure you’re selling the benefits of responding right now. Draft 4.

Reread, on paper, looking for your lead sentence. It’s probably down in your 3rd or 4th paragraph. Move it up top. Draft 5.

Close your office door and stand up and read draft 5 out loud. Make notes of where you hear clunkers. Fix them. Draft 6. Read this one out loud to a few colleagues. Fix more clunkers. NOTE: Never argue with people who don’t understand something. Fix it so they do. Draft 7.

Show it to your mother. If she gets it, everyone will. If she doesn’t get something, fix it so she does. Draft 8. Put it on the shelf until tomorrow. Go over it again with a pencil. Draft 9. You’re ready. Never let anyone read your final draft with a pen or pencil in hand. That’s not how your recipients will read it.