Mid September, 202
My clients pay me to write. But here's something they may not know.
As a direct response copywriter, I have to call upon many different skills and put them all to work on their behalf . . .
The copywriter as bricklayer.
Did you ever see bricklayers build a wall?
They start with a strong, level foundation, then lay their bricks quickly and deftly. It's a pleasure to watch.
I think a direct response copywriter is a lot like the bricklayer. Fundamentally, she or he is an artisan -- a skilled worker who practices a trade or craft.
Need something to work? Want something fixed? No problem. I show up on time with my toolbox of verbs, nouns, and adjectives and get to work. No fuss. No muss.
The copywriter as doctor.
So often, a new client calls me and asks how long an email should be or any of a hundred other questions.
My response is always the same. I have to hear the whole story. So, just like a physician, I take a history. I find out all about the objectives of the project and ask probing questions.
Only then can I make a diagnosis and figure out how I'm going to treat the problem. Okay. I wear a sweater instead of a white coat, but my approach is the same as a dedicated doctor's.
Empirical. Cautious. And always with the patient's interests at heart.
The copywriter as lawyer.
A company may have a great product or service to sell. But that doesn't mean that people will want to buy it.
My clients need a talented advocate to make their case for them. Someone who will stand up in front of the jury (prospective customers) and be so persuasive that the sale gets made.
I have the crucial responsibility of representing my clients before the marketplace and getting the right verdict every single time. No trivial responsibility and one that I take very seriously.
The bottom line?
Want me to represent your business? Feel free to get in touch any time. I write emails, sales letters, web copy, you name it. What kind of results can I get for you? CLICK HERE and check me out.
Let's get to work!
How to get in touch . . .
