Kranz On Copy: Insights and answers on copywriting and writing copy

. . . you wouldn't believe me!"

That's the response my friend Ken Lizotte would give to clients who wanted to know what to do with the rest of their lives. Today, Ken's the principal of the Emerson Consulting Group, a consulting firm that helps turn professionals into thought leaders via publishing book and articles.

But back in the day, Ken was a career counselor. And like any responsible career counselor, Ken led his clients through a battery of tests, surveys and interviews to help them arrive at deeper self-knowledge -- the kind of understanding that shapes responsible career choices.

But that's a lot of work, isn't it? And it means taking a lot of (read: all of) responsibility for your life. So, many clients would throw up their hands in frustration and say, "Geez, this is hard! I wish someone would just look me in the eye and TELL me what to do!"

Hence, Ken's response.

I call it the "Ruby Slipper Syndrome": As the Good Witch said, Dorothy had the answer within her all the time -- "There's no place like home." But it wasn't worth anything until she BELIEVED it.

I see this Syndrome as both "patient" and "doctor." Many times, people have told me the truth -- truth that should've been deeply useful to me -- but because I wasn't prepared (emotionally or intellectually) to hear it, it fell on deaf ears. And I had to learn the hard way. . .

And as doctor, I often find my best advice -- tested by my experience and confirmed by the experiences of others much wiser than myself -- flat out ignored. Because it contradicts the assumptions my clients "know" must be right, my advice must be wrong. Has to be. No two ways about it. Otherwise, the assumptions are wrong. And that just can't be, can it?

"I could tell you, but you wouldn't believe me." It's the perfect epitaph for the gravestone of a wise man.