9

Feb

by Jeff

OK, before you do any­thing else, watch this all the way through:

YouTube Preview Image

Now, regard­less of which side of this issue you are on, put that aside for now. If you don’t you’ll never see the per­sua­sive art at work in the film.

So what tech­niques ARE at work in the film?

Well, the grand strat­egy is to get you emo­tion­ally involved in the story of the fea­tured man’s rela­tion­ship — pre­sum­ably with a woman who’s “first per­son shooter” per­spec­tive you’re watch­ing in the video.

In fact, the cre­ators of this video want you to not only be drawn into the nar­ra­tive arc of their story, but to be “root­ing” for the cou­ple.  So how do they do that?

1) Use of First Per­son Shooter Per­spec­tive & Nar­ra­tive Misdirection

When­ever fic­tion writ­ers need to write a sus­pense novel or mys­tery, they usu­ally write from a Third Per­son Lim­ited per­spec­tive, mean­ing the reader sees the world through the eyes of the main char­ac­ter and is privy to that one character’s thoughts, but every other char­ac­ter is only ever pre­sented exter­nally, as seen through the eyes of the main character.

This per­spec­tive allows close iden­ti­fi­ca­tion between the reader and the main char­ac­ter.  It also allows the author to lead the reader in one direc­tion, and then yank the car­pet out from under their feet for a “big reveal.”  We see Harry Potter’s world through the eyes of Harry Pot­ter, and are sur­prised to find Quir­rell, and not Snape, as the bad guy at the end of Sorcerer’s Stone.

Sounds kind of like the video, doesn’t it?

Of course it does. In the video, you see every­thing from the per­spec­tive of the “girl” being flirted with, dated by, and romanced by “Paul.” And you fre­quently expe­ri­ence you and Paul’s co-participating in activ­i­ties with other het­ero cou­ples.  Lead­ing you to believe that Paul is also involved in a het­ero couple.

This sets the stage. This tech­nique allows the video to get you to think about the cou­ple absent any other pre­con­cep­tions you might have. They have to get you to like and root for the cou­ple BEFORE the big reveal.

So step 1 is First Per­son Shooter Per­spec­tive com­bined with Nar­ra­tive Misdirection.

2) Use of “Char­ac­ter Root­ing Techniques”

Screen­writ­ing gurus will tell you that you can’t assume the audi­ence will like and root for your main char­ac­ter — you have to bake in scenes designed to GET the audi­ence to like and root for your char­ac­ter. The late Blake Sny­der called this “sav­ing the cat” and thought it was impor­tant enough to name his first screen­writ­ing book, Save the Cat.

And the corol­lary to sav­ing the cat? Squash­ing the cat. You either have the hero per­form some kind or heroic act, or you have the char­ac­ter suf­fer some kind of unde­served mis­for­tune. Dis­ney redeems the thiev­ing Aladin in the eyes of the audi­ence by hav­ing him give his stolen food to street urchins. He saves the cat. Cin­derella loses her mom, and gets abused by her step­mom. She suf­fers unde­served misfortune.

So what does this film do?

  • It starts out with play­ful, “meet cute” flirt­ing. Every adult has had this expe­ri­ence and most peo­ple reflect back on the fear and emo­tional charge of such a moment, mean­ing that you almost can’t help but want suc­cess (how­ever you define it) for the peo­ple involved.
  • Lot’s more “Like me” moments. Play­ing on the beach, meet­ing par­ents, argu­ing over direc­tions, and lots of other sim­i­lar scenes that most view­ers can instantly iden­tify with.
  • Play­ful­ness. Most of the scenes show “Paul” act­ing play­ful and fun. This is very human and makes the cou­ple instantly likeable.
  • Unde­served mis­for­tune. Paul’s mom is intro­duced ear­lier in one of those “like me moments” that define the nar­ra­tive arc of the rela­tion­ship.  So when Paul’s mom dies, we can’t help but ache for him. And to appre­ci­ate the rela­tion­ship that helps him get through that death.

So we get lots of Char­ac­ter Root­ing Inter­est moments packed into this 2 minute video. All set­ting up max­i­mum emo­tional punch for the big reveal.

What the Heck Does this Have to Do with Advertising?

If these fic­tion writ­ing tech­niques can get you to like and root for a cou­ple in spite of a highly-charged polit­i­cally divi­sive issue, do you think they could work to get you to iden­tify with and like a brand?

Sure they could. Sim­i­lar tech­niques worked for Tony the Tiger, the Jolly Green Giant, Bar­tles & Jaymes, and “I’m a Mac.” And they can be put to work for you, too, even if you’re not a huge multi­na­tional. Here’s an exam­ple cre­ated by my part­ner, Roy Williams, for a local HVAC client:

YouTube Preview Image

And here’s another one:

YouTube Preview Image

So, do you think that after watch­ing a series of these ads, you might start lik­ing and root­ing for Mr. Jenk­ins and Bobby?

Well, whether you do or not, the ads are increas­ing sales. So somebody’s root­ing for Mr. Jenk­ins. Actu­ally, a whole lot of somebodies.

What are you doing to get peo­ple to root for YOUR business?

25

Jan

by Jeff

I recently came across this fas­ci­nat­ing post about Apple Mar­ket­ing prin­ci­ples, as artic­u­lated by Apple circa 1977.  Here they are:

2012-01-04_1512

Now, as a mar­keter, the Empa­thy and Focus parts are sec­ond nature — at least in terms of under­stand­ing.  Putting them into prac­tice every day is harder stuff, but any copy­writer that doesn’t under­stand the impor­tance of empathiz­ing with the prospec­tive cus­tomer and focus­ing in on their pri­mary buy­ing moti­va­tions and con­cerns isn’t a copy­writer at all.

It’s the last ele­ment most mar­keters and copy­writ­ers screw up or over­look: the impor­tance of Imputed Qual­ity.  Not nuts and bolts, specification-driven build qual­ity or value for the dol­lar qual­ity.  But qual­ity cues that tap into buy­ers’ pre-existing men­tal imprint of lux­ury and vir­tu­ous man­u­fac­ture.  The telling detail that says everything.

Want to see an exam­ple of imputed qual­ity used in copy?  Here ya go:

ogilvy-rolls-royce-ad

Notice that the actual build qual­ity is detailed by the bul­let points of the body copy, while the imputed qual­ity — the telling detail — is given pride of place within the head­line of the ad itself.*

Of course, this sort of qual­ity cue or imputed qual­ity fac­tor has to be already exist­ing or freshly baked into the prod­uct or ser­vice itself before it can be adver­tised, but rec­og­niz­ing the need for it — and doing the patient research and dig­ging to find it — is one of the major keys to writ­ing copy that works.

Apple of course, is a mas­ter at this, which is one rea­son they are renowned design icons, because inspired design imputes high qual­ity. But it’s also why Apple never skimps on screen qual­ity, key­board feel, and the over­all pol­ish put on their user inter­faces: those are the sort of tan­gi­ble, expe­ri­en­tial things that impute quality.

Yes, of course, we expect real qual­ity from an Apple prod­uct in the sense of free­dom from typ­i­cal PC-like annoy­ances, annoy­ances bril­liantly dra­ma­tized and mocked by Apple’s “I’m a Mac” cam­paign.  But even if you knew noth­ing about Apple or PCs and just LOOKED at the com­pet­ing prod­ucts laid side by side, you’d intu­itively get that one set of prod­ucts were spe­cial and nicer than the rest.  Regard­less of how their inter­nal com­po­nents and specs stacked up.

So Here Are My 3 Take­aways from This:

1) Qual­ity is impor­tant, but qual­ity with­out imputed qual­ity will go unre­warded in the marketplace.

2) Busi­ness own­ers should never expect cus­tomers to rec­og­nize qual­ity and should “bake” imputed qual­ity into their offerings.

3) Copy­writ­ers who fail to use imputed qual­ity cues will end up with under­per­form­ing ad copy.

P.S. — Want to see an already-existing qual­ity cue in action? Check out these guys thud­ding the door closed on a Mercedes:

YouTube Preview Image

P.P.S. — How do I know that Ogilvy dili­gently searched for prod­uct facts that would help him find and rec­og­nize impor­tant qual­ity cues?  Because he listed research twice when explain­ing his copy­writ­ing method­ol­ogy!  Steps 3 and 5 both empha­size the impor­tance of research and facts.

* For a more detailed analy­sis of this famous Ogilvy Ad, check out my old GrokDot­com post.

Before the big iPhone unveil­ing today, if some­one told you that they had real pic­tures of what the next gen­er­a­tion of the iPhone looked like, and they just showed you some pho­tos, totally devoid of con­text, would you believe them?

Of course not. The claim lacks all credibility.

You can’t pos­si­bly look at pho­tos like that with­out wondering:

  • How could you pos­si­bly have got­ten these, given how pas­sion­ately Apple pro­tects their upcom­ing projects?
  • Even if you DID get legit­i­mate pho­tos, why aren’t Apple’s lawyers send­ing you a cease and desist letter?
  • What evi­dence do I pos­si­bly have that these are real, and weren’t sim­ply photoshopped?
  • And so on.

In short, the con­text is all wrong, so we just know the pho­tos are fakes (or “artists ren­di­tions,” at best). But what about this video?

YouTube Preview Image

Some­how, this video fooled a lot of peo­ple and cre­ated quite a stir before it was proven to be faked. But why? Why is this video so con­vinc­ing when the typ­i­cal “leaked” pho­tos aren’t?

Con­text.

The video pro­vides a con­text which pre­emp­tively answers all of these credibility-killing ques­tions and more.  Accord­ing to the non-verbal sto­ry­telling in the video, the guy who made the video acci­den­tally dis­cov­ered an “unre­leased” page to Apple’s Ger­man Web­site, and took a screen record­ing of it.  That’s how he got the pho­tos, that’s why Apple can’t stop him, because they’re the ones who put the con­tent on the Web, etc.

More impor­tantly, the very style of the Web pages cre­ated by this hoaxster con­vinces us.  When we look at these “acci­den­tally dis­cov­ered” Web pages, they look so faith­ful to Apple’s own design aes­thetic, and the pic­tures of the phone look so faith­ful to the rumors about the new iPhone (curved, metal back, larger screen, thin­ner, etc.) that we tend to believe that maybe the video is for real.

Mak­ing This Dynamic Work for You

The truth is that we ALL rely on con­text every day for almost every deci­sion we make.  Manip­u­late con­text and you manip­u­late people’s per­cep­tions and, ulti­mately, their deci­sions, too:

  • If you’re an ice cream par­lor and you sim­ply put can­is­ters of sam­ple spoons up on the counter, that con­text will cue peo­ple to ask for free tastes, with­out any other change required.
  • An HVAC guy who shows up in a corporate-branded truck and uni­form will look like he’s from a big com­pany, even if the com­pany con­sists entirely of him, his cell­phone, and that truck.
  • Tell me you have the best food in the city, and I’ll be a lot more likely to believe you if you serve that food on linen table cloths rather than plas­tic trays.

Good fic­tion writ­ers know the impor­tance of this instinc­tively, which is why they go to such lengths to estab­lish the right pre­text for their big moments — they “set you up” and then “pay it off” later. Though I am absolutely not advis­ing any­one to hoax their cus­tomers or to adopt a conman’s mind­set, I am ask­ing you to think about the believ­abil­ity of the claims you make, and how the right con­text can cre­ate cus­tomer con­fi­dence that you might not cre­ate any other way.

So what con­text cues are you using now, and what cues should you be using going forward?

7

Sep

by Jeff

selling-the-dream

When writ­ing copy for prod­ucts and ser­vices designed to help some­one do X, the best per­sua­sive tac­tic is to re-sell them on the dream.

In other words, when­ever prospects got into X in the first place, they did so because they had bought into a dream. For instance, most peo­ple take up blog­ging because they buy into the dream of blog­ging: be able to put their “voice” out into the world and find­ing an appre­cia­tive, recep­tive audi­ence that not only tweats, re-tweats, com­ments on, and for­wards their posts, but also find­ing finan­cial ben­e­fit through that same audi­ence buy­ing their books, come to their con­fer­ences, etc.  That’s the dream most peo­ple are chas­ing when they start up a blog.

Need­less to say, the real­ity fre­quently falls short of the dream.  And the frus­tra­tion at the gap is where the incen­tive to buy comes in.

So if you’re sell­ing a ser­vice to help peo­ple with their blog­ging, you not only want to sell the prospect on the ser­vice, but also re-sell them on the dream.  More specif­i­cally, you want to sell them on the abil­ity of your ser­vice to help them re-capture the dream.

Why?

Because they already bought into the dream once, and they haven’t yet given up on it (they’re still X–ing, aren’t they?), and noth­ing is eas­ier than sell­ing some­one on the dream they’ve already bought into.  Doesn’t mat­ter what the dream was, and it doesn’t mat­ter what indus­try you’re in; the eas­i­est sale you’ll ever make is sell­ing the prospect on the dream they’ve already dreamt.

Jonathan Morrow’s new prod­uct BoostBlogTraffic.com is a per­fect exam­ple of that. Check out the prod­uct announce­ment over at Copy­blog­ger and see for your­self.  What’s Jonathan doing for the first 2/3rds of the copy?  Invok­ing the frus­tra­tions and dream-reality gap involved in blog­ging, and then re-selling the blog­ging dream, baby!

Because Jonathan Mor­row knows what he’s doing.

  • So what dream where your prospects chas­ing when­ever they got into your market?
  • Are you mind­ing (and min­ing) the gap between the dream and the prospect’s cur­rent reality?
  • Does your copy re-kindle the dream?

22

May

by Jeff

Por­tals and Why They Matter

portalTak­ing it to the next level” is cliché. So is the phrase “he/she/it opened a lot of doors for me.” But peo­ple still reach for these phrases regard­less. There’s a rea­son for that.

Both phrases reflect an intu­itive under­stand­ing of tran­si­tions: that there’s always a thresh­old to cross. Bound­aries define an area, envi­ron­ment, or world. Move­ment past bound­aries neces­si­tates move­ment through open­ings in those bound­aries — or though por­tals, if you will.

So where there is change, there are por­tals, or so our sub­con­scious minds expect. But all too often, busi­nesses fail to meet our sub­con­scious expec­ta­tion for portals.

Busi­nesses usu­ally want to tran­si­tion shop­pers from think­ing one way about a prod­uct or ser­vice (price sen­si­tive) to another way of think­ing, typ­i­cally one that ele­vates shared val­ues, big-picture per­for­mance, and total expe­ri­ence above price. The goal is to move shop­pers from an objec­tive, consumer-reports mind­set to an enthusiast’s mind­set.

And yet peo­ple don’t just snap from one state of mind into another; there has to be a tran­si­tion and a por­tal to mark that tran­si­tion. Put plainly: if you’re sell­ing pre­mium prod­ucts or expe­ri­ences, you need to under­stand the power of portals.

Fan­tasy Writ­ers Under­stand Portals

When it comes to por­tals, per­haps the best peo­ple to study are fan­tasy writ­ers, who have always intu­itively sensed the need for por­tals between worlds:

  • C.S. Lewis had his Wardrobe.
  • J.K. Rowl­ing had her Plat­form 9 3/4s,
  • L. Frank Baum had Dorothy ride her twister, and
  • The Wachowski Broth­ers gave Neo his red pill (among other portals).

Enter The Pic­ture Book Pow­er­house of Portals

0142404039But some of the most intense and eas­ily observed stack­ing of por­tals I’ve come across take place in a children’s pic­ture book: Skip­pyjon Jones, by Judy Schachner.

And what fol­lows is my break­down of Por­tal Stack­ing in Skip­pyjon Jones. And to start, let me give you a bit of set-up…

Skip­pyjon Jones is a young Siamese Cat who likes to pre­tend that he’s really some other ani­mal. The story starts with him pre­tend­ing to be a bird, much to his mother’s dis­may. So she sends him to his room for a lit­tle time out, and that’s when ol’ Skip­pyjon begins his trans­for­ma­tion into the great sword-fighting Chi­huahua, El Skip­pito Friskito.  A trans­for­ma­tion involv­ing por­tals galore.

First, Skip­pyjon starts bounc­ing on his bed, with the bounc­ing sym­bol­i­cally equiv­a­lent to flight. Then, dur­ing that flight, Skip­pyjon Jones encoun­ters his first portal:

2011-05-22_2032

Lit­er­a­ture is rife with the notion of mir­rors as por­tals. And Skippyjon’s mid­flight glimpse into his mir­ror reveals his hid­den chi­huahua nature. A nature which is ampli­fied through the don­ning of a Lone Ranger style mask by the lit­tle kitty. Skip­pyjon lit­er­ally becomes invested in the identity.

Then we flash down to Skippyjon’s mother and sis­ters watch­ing TV down­stairs, talk­ing about Skippyjon’s time out. But when the book cuts back to Skip­pyjon Jones, we’re not brought back up into the room, but forced to look into his room through — you guessed it — a portal:

2011-05-22_2039

We’re out­side see­ing Skip­pyjon objec­tively as a masked kitty rac­ing around his room like a freak. And the half-conscious expec­ta­tion is that when we move inside, we’ll tran­si­tion from out­side to inside in more ways than one, mov­ing from an objec­tive to a sub­jec­tive under­stand­ing, so that we will start to see what Skippyjon/El Skip­pito Friskito sees.

Still, the reader is fur­ther prompted to engage in Skippyjon’s whimsy by yet another por­tal tran­si­tion, this time from the room to the closet:

2011-05-22_2043

So we have a double-portal tran­si­tion, from out­side the room to inside, and from inside the well-lit room to inside the dark closet, wherein the mag­i­cal realm of imag­i­na­tion rules, and where Skip­pyjon Jones, the Siamese cat, fully becomes El Skip­pito Friskito, the great sword-fighting Chihuahua.

But still, if Skip­pyjon is to fight some­thing truly mon­strous, he might have to cross yet another por­tal within the imag­i­nary story, before he is to face the mon­ster.  And so it is, as Skip­pito and his band of Chi­huahua friends take a nap, using sleep as the ulti­mate por­tal to dreams…

2011-05-22_2051

And that’s when the adven­tures really begin. Until, at the con­clu­sion of Skippyjon’s imag­i­na­tive adven­ture, El Skip­pito is blown back through the portal/closet door, and back to the every­day real­ity of his mother and sis­ters. Por­tal cross­ing in; por­tal cross­ing out.

So why is this impor­tant for the book?

It makes the dif­fer­ence between watch­ing a kit­ten dream some­thing silly, and being emo­tion­ally pulled along with him into his dreams. All those por­tals really help read­ers (of all ages) “get into” the story. Yes the story itself is delight­ful, and yes, the author (Judy Schachner) does a won­der­ful job mak­ing the book a blast to read. But I can’t help but think the bril­liant use of por­tals has more than a lit­tle do with the books crit­i­cal praise and wide­spread pop­u­lar­ity.

And in case you think I’m read­ing too much into this, take a look at the Offi­cial Skip­pyjon Jones Website’s entrance page:

2011-05-22_1231Any­one want to guess what hap­pens when you click to enter?  Go ahead and try it!

So, that’s cool and all, but how can you use it for your busi­ness?  We’ll get into that next week…

But for now, let me just give Judy Schachner’s book a hardy plug for all those with young kids out there.  It won the E.B. White Read Aloud Award because it’s both a blast for the par­ents to read and a delight for kids to lis­ten to. Highly recommended.

And who knows, you might learn some­thing too…

P.S. My men­tor and busi­ness part­ner, Roy H. Williams, teaches an entire course on por­tals. If you’re inter­ested in this kind of stuff, you prob­a­bly ought to check out Wiz­ard Acad­emy at some point. And, yes, as adjunct fac­ulty, my opin­ion on Wiz­ard Acad­emy is heav­ily biased ; )

23

Mar

by Jeff

2011-03-22_2327So quiet you could hear a…

It’s so loud in here I can’t even hear…

Do those sen­tence even make sense? If it’s really, really quiet, shouldn’t there be an absence of noise? Why would you point out how quiet it is by rais­ing the spec­tre of sound in the mind of the reader? And why would you indi­cate loud­ness by talk­ing about what you can’t hear?

Sur­pris­ingly, this isn’t just my lame attempt at a Steven Wright style joke; there are legit­i­mate answers to these ques­tions, and the answers reveal some­thing shock­ingly impor­tant for copywriters.

The answer? You can’t con­vey extreme absence or total immer­sion very well through a direct approach. You have to hint at it through impli­ca­tion or com­par­i­son. Or you have to con­vey the sub­jec­tive expe­ri­ence of it. Or use both techniques.

Hear­ing a pin drop implies that there are no sounds louder than that present. In other words, your mind, once seeded with that sin­gle, del­i­cate sound, surrounds the rest with a silence more blan­ket­ing and com­plete than any you could have described directly.

And no, this isn’t just because “hear a pin drop” is a col­lo­qual­ism or cliche, this tech­nique works even when deal­ing with the actual expe­ri­ence of sound, as described by the great movie sound effects edi­tor Wal­ter Murch:

Murch flips on his com­puter, clicks the mouse a few times and instantly pulls up a scene from Jar­head. Swofford’s char­ac­ter, played by Jake Gyl­len­haal, is in com­bat for the first time and there’s an artillery bar­rage. Every­one else ducks for cover, but he stands up. And the cam­era moves closer to him. Then, in the dis­tance, there’s a muf­fled explo­sion fol­lowed by dead silence.

This fleet­ing silence is a golden moment for an edi­tor — a chance to put the audi­ence right there on the bat­tle­field. Jarhead’s direc­tor, Sam Mendes, orig­i­nally wanted that silence to stretch for sev­eral sec­onds. But Murch came up with a bet­ter idea.

Pieces of dust and sand from the explo­sion hit the actor’s face in slow motion. Then you hear the sound of the par­ti­cles hit­ting his face. “My com­bat action has com­menced,” the char­ac­ter says.

This fleet­ing silence is a golden moment for an edi­tor — a chance to put the audi­ence right there on the bat­tle­field. Jarhead’s direc­tor, Sam Mendes, orig­i­nally wanted that silence to stretch for sev­eral sec­onds. But Murch came up with a bet­ter idea.
Pieces of dust and sand from the explo­sion hit the actor’s face in slow motion. Then you hear the sound of the par­ti­cles hit­ting his face. “My com­bat action has com­menced,” the char­ac­ter saOne of the rules of the road is that if you want to cre­ate the sense of silence, it fre­quently has more pun­gency if you include the tini­est of sounds.”

Did you catch that?  The silence is length­ened and inten­si­fied by giv­ing you both a small noise and an inner sub­jec­tive expe­ri­ence of it. Murch even describes this as a rule of the road:

One of the rules of the road is that if you want to cre­ate the sense of silence, it fre­quently has more pun­gency if you include the tini­est of sounds

Sim­i­larly, describ­ing the cacoph­ony directly doesn’t get to the expe­ri­ence of it as well as describ­ing the sub­jec­tive men­tal dis­or­der­ing and dis­ori­en­ta­tion that such ear-piercing noise causes; the inter­nal men­tal con­fu­sion of ‘I can’t hear myself think’ implies an exter­nal sonic chaos that your read­ers’ minds will recre­ate, thereby putting them “right there on the battlefield.”

So what are the adver­tis­ing appli­ca­tions of all this?

In my last post I plugged the tech­nique of dis­cov­er­ing and using qual­ity cues in your adver­tis­ing. And that raises the obvi­ous ques­tion: how can you find those cues?

One answer: find the pin drops.

What unique turn of phrase implies more than it says. How can you describe an inter­nal state that implies an exter­nal event and vice versa?

Do you think that Mike Diamond’s plumbers really smell good? Or do you think that smelling good implies clean­li­ness, pro­fes­sion­al­ism, and stand-up qual­i­ties?  Smell is just one sense, per­haps the most prim­i­tively emo­tional, but we’re all the more able to fill in all the rest our­selves based on that, aren’t we?

What about fin­ger lick­ing good? It’s a cliche now, but imag­ine when it first came out!

OK, now you try — what are your pin drops? What small detail seeds our mind to rain down the greater whole?

P.S. If this seems hard, it should. It’s the kind of thing ad pro­fes­sion­als get paid the big bucks to come up with.