It’s something I see with clients. “We just need a writer’s eye on it” or “I know what we need to say, but I’m no writer.” And where do I see it? In my inbox. Where there’s an email. That they’ve written.
We’re all writers. Whether it’s crafting a caption for your Instagram post or writing an unnecessarily long WhatsApp for a friend who’s having a tough time. Whether it’s easy to understand or riddled with spelling mistakes and shorthand.
But that’s not what a copywriter does, not really. Here’s why.
Impactful copywriting is about drawing the right conclusions
Anyone can write. A copywriter can draw the right conclusions from all the information at-hand and turn that into something that feels relevant, compelling and persuasive.
Let’s pick a project that seems basic and straightforward: an email telling your existing customers about a time-limited discount, available if they upgrade.
Even this fairly simple piece of collateral is built on a near endless number of variables—all the bits and pieces that influence what you should say, how you should say it, and in what order.
Suddenly, your simple promo email needs to account for things like:
- What kind of people your customers are—what gets them excited?
- What are they feeling when they receive this email? Do we send one a week? Or once in a blue moon?
- What are your competitors doing? Are we still more expensive, even with our discount? Are we undercutting them? Does that make us look less premium?
- What makes the upgrade worthwhile? What are all the features and benefits that would meaningfully improve life for the audience?
- What else is happening in the average inbox? How can we stand out when people skim through and instinctively decide to relegate us to the junk folder?
- How does this tie into our bigger plans? Will it seem weird when we announce next month that this time-limited one-of-a-kind discount is available again?
This isn’t a definitive list. There’s a whole web of different factors that influence the copy. Some take the form of questions you can ask and get answers to. Others are more amorphous: vibes and intuitions that you pick up on through osmosis and really understanding both the brand and the audience.
All of which it to say: there’s a lot to consider. And the most valuable skill a copywriter brings to the table is effectively considering it all.
Finding the right copy in the real world
In a fantasy land, every little promo email will be backed with a fifty-page brief, capturing everything about the audience, the context, whether the economy makes people ready to spend right now, and so on. Hundreds of little questions and answers, all influencing the way the copy turns out.
This, of course, isn’t where we live.
In reality, the numerous variables that influence copy—and determine whether it’ll do its job—come in dribs and drabs. It’s the sort of thing you notice in a meeting, pick up on in an email, or uncover based on your understanding of the sector, the competitors, and the audience.
Some of it’s just based on human instinct and empathy; a willingness to step into the shoes of your customers and understand what they might actually care about. Some of it’s based on rapport with clients themselves, developing a sixth sense for what’s important—not because they told you, but because you felt it.
The highest performing copy is always underpinned by these insights. And the single most important thing a copywriter can do is put a stake in the ground, say ‘These are the conclusions we’re acting on,’ and write with intention.
Building your copy on something solid
I’m powerfully resisting the urge to use a foundation metaphor here. See, that’s what I mean: the critical level of audience insight and empathy that tells me, no, these people have seen the ‘Build your copy on a solid foundation from the ground up’ thing a million times. Don’t do that.
Instead, I’ll use a real-world example. That’ll helpfully make this piece—this copy—feel authentic and truthful.
I’m routinely asked to take copy that exists and rework it. I quote for exactly that. And I end up rebuilding huge amounts of what’s there, blowing past the amount I’ve billed, because the problem wasn’t the writing. Providing it’s understandable, the problem is almost never the writing. It’s the conclusions and angles the thing is built on in the first place.
It’s about knowing what people might be feeling. Understanding what you’re saying and where you’re saying it and how you might make it stand out, or make people feel intrigued. It’s about taking a mass of information, the more the merrier, and distilling out the right focus points while tossing the rest aside.
Anyone can write. We all do it, all the time, personally and professionally. But not anyone can draw the right conclusions. And that’s honestly the only thing that matters.
