Posts from — June 2008

Good copy gets ideas across. It’s as simple as that… you write to communicate ideas, and people read to consume them. I think novelists get that, I think poets get that, but I think a lot of copywriters miss it. I think they get so caught up in creating ’stuff that sells’ - so caught up in ‘relating to the customer,’ and creating ‘urgency to buy’, that they miss the point. They work so hard to convince you that you NEED something, they forget to tell you what it is. That’s dumb.

It’s dumb, especially in the startup world. Startup copy is ALL about the ideas. That’s because most startups (at least in new tech) are developing a new one. You’re not peddling blenders here… you’re selling a new way for people to relate and interact around RSS feeds (for example). Really, that’s what makes new tech so cool, and if you do it right, that’s what gives your copy (and your brand) life. But it also means you have to explain the ideas, and it means you have to explain them well.

Of course, this isn’t easy (and that’s why I have a job). It’s not easy to explain ideas well, and if you do, it’s not easy to explain ideas well in context… with the proper flow and the appropriate snark. That’s why I think the guys over at Ignighter and I did a good job with their landing page copy. I think we communicated the idea - that they’re a new company offering a new idea (of group dating), and I think we got across what it was without being too wordy, and while still being casual (and a bit snarky). Check it out to see what I mean.

The ideas come first… that’s the important part. That’s the straight-forward part too… anyone can do it. After that, it’s a matter of making it sound right, and work right. Do that, and you’ll have good idea-based copy.

Do that, and you’ll be in business.

Writer’s have to read. I try to as much as I can, so this past Sunday, I revisited one of my favorite pastimes; spending a lazy weekend afternoon in Barnes + Noble. I took a breeze through the business section (mostly for laughs), and once again, I was struck by what I saw. Either a lot of dumb people are making money (and writing books), or there’s a (mistaken) perception out there that readers are idiots. I mean, most of the stuff was ridiculous. On par with all the crappy “get rich quick’ stuff you see all over the web. Bad writing, crappy conclusions, and worst of all, a tone that insults the reader. ‘you’re inadequate. I’m not. Read this, and you won’t be anymore. You’ll be rich (and happy).’

Obviously, these books make money, and what do I know - maybe some of it actually works. I doubt it, but maybe. Even so, it’s not the brand I’d want anywhere near my startup or near my website. Good copy inspires, respects the reader as intelligent, and still comes off as convincing. It’s top-quality stuff that actually has something to offer, and that offers it plainly… there for the smart reader to accept or not. Good copy isn’t about being (or pretending to be) adequate, and it’s not about being ‘convincing.’ Good copy (and the best writing) is about being honest and about being sincere. The best copy isn’t about selling against the reader’s will… it’s about selling without trying.

Apparently, someone’s reading these books (because people keep writing them). And yeah, there’s probably money to be made by doing it (even on your website). But in a shrinking Internet world where each site is fighting for their space (and for their users), I wouldn’t sacrifice quality for quick cash.

Would you?

On the heels of the last two posts (about cows and about working-class copy), it only makes sense to link to a project from three of my old buddies: Tim, Noah, and Sam. They’re taking a HUGE bike touring trip from Alaska to Panama, raising money for Heifer International along the way. It’s good guys, a good trip, and a good cause.

And more than that, their blog is a good example of what I’ve been talking about. These guys aren’t literary geniuses… just a couple of guys who like bikes and like cows. The blog reflects that. It’s working-class copy, and it’s real. It may not be great, but frankly, I think it’s pretty darn good.

Or, as a Vermont farmer would say, wicked good. Yuh.