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

Time and again, I've seen marketing programs go wrong, not because the messaging was weak or the products were poor, but because the marketing dollars were looking for love in all the wrong places -- too much time and money invested on unlikely prospects, and too little spent on the best targets.

One size doesn't fit all. Take a look at John Doerr's recent article, Power of the Marketing Pyramid. He cogently articulates one of the fundamentals of good marketing that we all too frequently forget: our efforts should be unevenly distributed based on the likelihood of success and on the expected long-term value of the customer.

John even makes things simple by lumping your market into three categories, then showing you exactly how much attention each segment deserves -- and why.

What are you doing to ensure that your best prospects are getting the lion's share of your attention?

Way back in the dark ages of this blog, Jeff Cawley (March 2, Poet identified, laurels placed) won a free copy of Writing Copy for Dummies by identifying the correct source of "rag and bone shop."

I just heard from him today via e-mail. He's launched a terrific website for hungry artists who'd prefer not to remain hungry, NonStarvingArtists.com, where he's used WCFD as a reference on how to write press releases.

In addition to his day job, Jeff is a skilled blacksmith working on his technique at the Fort Vancouver National Historic Site.

Once again, Kranz on Copy tips its virtual hat to Jeff!

What's in a name? Plenty of sales power.

The other day my family was in the mood for chicken. Tired of the same-old, same-old, I opened my Joy of Cooking and found a winner I had't cooked in a long time, Chicken Paprikash. Prepared with loads of paprika and sour cream with a touch of lemon, it's a treat everyone loves. Once they taste it.

But "paprika" and "paprikash" are tough sells to picky 6 and 10 year-old eaters. Then I remembered something interesting: In the novel, Dracula, Chicken Paprikash (or a close varient thereof) is the dish Jonathan Harker eats at a Transylvanian inn. In a sudden flash of inspiration, Chicken Paprikash became "Dracula Chicken."

The kids couldn't wait to eat Dracula Chicken and when they did, they loved it. The next day, they brought a friend over around dinner time. Caught unprepared, I had nothing to offer but leftovers. Not a problem. Our guest's eyes opened wide and she asked, "You mean, we're going to have Dracula Chicken?!" Talk about the power of word-of-mouth -- and of a great name.

Got any names with as much bite?

I hate lawn care. I even prefer shoveling snow to cutting the grass.

My disdain is reflected in my performance: My lawn never looks beautiful. In fact, I don't even aim for it to look "good." Instead, my goal is to keep the weeds just under enough control so that the property doesn't look abandoned.

That's the running joke in my household -- that as groundskeepers, we shoot for the "not abandoned" look.

Kind of like many blogs, don't you think?

At the peak of blog frenzy, so many people rushed to create one. Then, for the first few weeks, bloggers scrupulously posted frequently. (Too many posts, however, were about how great it is to blog . . . why it's important . . . and hey, look, so-and-so just launched a blog!)

Then the number of new posts tapers off. Coming up with something to say isn't easy. Thinking of something meaningful to say is even harder.

So now, many of the blogs that've started with a bang have not-quite-ended with a whimper -- just enough occasional posts so that blog has that "not abandoned" look.

Yeah, I'm guilty too. Especially when business gets busy, as it has been the last five, six weeks.

Have you noticed a growing number of "not abandoned" blogs as well?

I've said it before and I'll say it again: Many of the smartest marketing moves aren't made by the big brand names, but by smaller, shrewder companies who fly under our radars.

A few weeks ago, my parish announced a new membership directory, a kind of photographic "who's who" for our community. It would cost us nothing but our time; all we had to do was schedule our photo shoot. As far as we could tell, this was a parish effort. The photographer wasn't named at all.

On our scheduled day, my family and I found our church basement transformed into an impromptu photo set -- and then some. On either side of the hall were draped tables displaying family photos set in a variety of frames.

After our photos we're taken, the true picture developed. We sat at one of the tables to review our digital images on a laptop computer -- and to "preview" a number of photo packages we could buy for ourselves. Yes, we would get a copy of the directory for free. And a free 8 x 10 of the photo we selected for the directory. But we also had the opportunity to choose any number of elaborate photo/frame packages, including an oval photo mounted on canvas "and covered with five coats of acrylic sealer to last for generations."

What marketing genius! The photography group is Olan Mills, and their use of the church channel is absolutely brilliant. Now, I don't know the details -- whether my parish had to pony up anything for the directories, or whether it gets a commission on each sale. I suspect that neither is true, and that Olan Mills exchanges free directories for a sales opportunity that's hard to beat.

Think about it: What's gotta' be the hardest part of the photo sale? Getting people off their butts to schedule and participate in the shoot. In one fell swoop, the directory deal completely resolves the problem. In fact, the church "sells" the shoot for Olan Mills, bringing in bodies by the pew-load. Once captive, the prospects have little choice but to sit through the sales pitch as their images come up on screen.

We didn't buy anything (and we did notice that the nice old saleslady's attitude toward us shifted rather abruptly when it became clear that we wouldn't buy), but we were tempted. Frankly, we hadn't come dressed for a formal shoot: My daughters had smears of poster paint on their arms and clothes; I wore a Hawaiian shirt and shorts (my wife looked good, of course).

But man, what a great marketing set up! How are you creating scenarios in which other people do the sales for you?

After The Police broke up and went their separate ways, the band's brilliant drummer, Stewart Copeland, composed a number of successful movie scores. Then he tackled opera. In an interview, he openly admited that he knew almost nothing about opera, -- had, in fact, heard very little of it -- but that was okay, because it gave him a "fresh perspective."

The subsequent opera, "Holy Blood and the Crescent Moon," was widely derided as a popular and critical disaster.

In 1998, Paul Simon extended his songwriting reach to the Broadway musical. Again, it was noted that he had absolutely no experience composing any music for theater, much less for a full-length Broadway show. But again, his inexperience was to be his virtue: Broadway was stale, people said. Paul Simon would bring a "fresh perspective."

The resulting show, "The Capeman," limped through 68 performances before dying an ignominious death. No one missed it.

These two very public failures by two very talented artists point to one solemn truth: Ignorance is never a fresh perspective.

Every day, talented people without the slightest understanding of marketing communications -- accomplished bankers, physicians, engineers, executives, etc. -- fumble with copy and design to their grief. They are no more qualified to select Pantones or edit headlines than I am to perform brain surgery or calculate satellite orbits.

Am I suggesting that clients shouldn't make any contribution to their own marketing materials? Of course not. But that contribution should be directed where it is most valuable: In determining the objectives, setting the expectations, defining the content and forming the broader messages.

When it comes time to evaluate the deliverables, subjective whimsy should play no role; the material should be held to the standards defined by the program's goals and objectives, and the criticism should be informed by the only perspective that's ever "fresh" -- the one that emerges from knowledge, talent and experience.

What's your perspective?

Here's my "acid test" for taglines, positioning statements and all other messages intended to distinguish a business or a business identity: If everyone can say it, it's not worth saying.

Another way of putting it: If no one would ever say otherwise, think of something else to say.

For example: "We're committed to quality." Well, duh. Who isn't? Or at least, who wouldn't say they were?

"Customers are number one." Would anyone ever say that customers are number two? (Though too many businesses that say "customers are number one" treat customers like number two.)

"Our people make the difference." I can't wait to see the ads that tout, "Our employees are conditioned by boredom, numbed by apathy, and greet our customers with indifference."

Go against the flow. Say something your competitors can not or will not say. Years ago, I stumbled across an ad agency that promised, "We steal market share for our clients." Wow! "Market share" is a specific, measurable focus -- not too many agencies have the courage to make that kind of commitment; fewer still have the stones to use the word, "steal." In my mind, that's a real marketing message that say's something.

Seth Godin has made a very successful career saying things others won't say. How many consultants lead with, "All marketers are liars"? He does, and he enjoys the fruits of his courage.

What do you have to say that others won't?