The last line of my last post (describing my writing style) went like this: not pretty, but in the end, effective.
Though I think I put out good stuff, I also think that’s true. And really, I think it distinguishes me from a lot of other writers. Those that I’m talking about (and you know who they are) have a special way with words. And not only words either – a special gift for imagery, description, dialogue, and narrative. They’re not all great (in fact, most of them aren’t), but they’re pretty. They produce pretty stuff.
I can’t do that. It’s just not my game. I can’t write poetry, and I won’t write the next great novel (I promise you that). Maybe I lack the talent, or maybe I have the wrong background – they do say that all great writers (and even most good ones) have miserable childhoods. It’s the childhood angst (and the writers’ compulsion to explore it) that produces genius works.
I’m not sure about that (I can’t recognize genius most of the time, let alone speculate as to its’ origins). But it would help explain my inability to write poetry (and conversely, my ability to write darn-good copy). I didn’t have a miserable childhood. I wasn’t raised in horrible houses in the slums. I was raised in a steady house in farm-country pastures. I didn’t hustle the streets as a young man to make a living… I tended after cows, and sheet-rocked houses.
I have my share of childhood-related anger, but I don’t have a lot of anguish, and I don’t have a lot of desire to spill it out onto a page. I have a desire (and a limited amount of talent) to produce sporadic emotion-filled works of genius. But most of the time, I just have a desire to do the job, and get it done right.
It’s not literary-genius copy. It’s working-class copy. And frankly (in most cases), I think it’s better.
This morning, Seth Godin wrote a good piece on unintentional blogging income. The idea is that most successful bloggers start out for fun, and for the thrill of having good content read. Money only comes later (and as an afterthought). It’s good stuff, and brings up an important point for me here. Namely, that writing good copy means just that… if you focus on producing quality content, the money will come.
That notion is contrary to pretty much all of what you see around the industry. These days, it’s all about web-content “that sells.” Now, I don’t think the end idea is flawed (making money is the point here, remember), but I think the approach is. If you write stuff just to sell, it’ll show. You’ll produce money-grubbing content, not quality content. That’s where you see: “Buy this product. You’re inadequate without it, and you need it. I know it’s just a blender, but it’ll change the way you see the world. You need it.”
Now this may work for informercials, but it won’t work for startups. Smart people (your good customers) will see right through money-grubbing copy, and ultimately, they’ll be turned off by it (no one likes to be sold). But if you respect them… if you write quality stuff that shows them who you are, and what your product truly does (and no, a blender won’t change your life), it’ll come off as genuine and likeable.
It’ll be quality stuff, and it’ll attract quality people. The type that will stick around, bring other people in, and maybe even improve your product. That’s what you want, and that’s what you want to write. “Copy that sells” doesn’t sell. Good content Sells.
It’s a paradox. I know.
This blog can get off track, but at its core, it’s meant to be a (fun) resource for startups… guidance for writing better stuff, developing a better brand, and ultimately, building a better business. Up to this point, it’s been more big-picture stuff, and that’s good, but I have to cover the smaller stuff too. So, here’s the first ‘technical tips’ installment:
A couple days ago, a good friend asked me how to spell canceled – apparently, the word has two correct possibilities, canceled or cancelled. I gather he was asking for a hard-and-fast rule (like use one in this situation, and the other in this), and for all I know there is one. But I just told him what I use (and what I think startups should use): spell like you dress.
Sure, there are some rules you have to follow for both (never wear white socks with black dress pants for instance, and never spell train as trane for another). But beyond these, it’s about finding the right fit for your situation. This may mean wearing a light blue shirt with darker blue jeans, or tucking a dress shirt into Carharts. It may mean using canceled because it’s better balanced, or it may mean using cancelled because it’s stronger. It even may mean using 100strong because it’s better than 100Strong or 100 Strong (it is).
At the end of the day, it’s not about rules… it’s about finding the right spelling and the right words to communicate your brand. Dress well. Write well.
