After Craig’s presentation, I was feeling confident. So confident I listened to the rest of the talks and even took a few notes.
The rest of the event was spent the way most events are: at the lobby bar, in conversations that seemed to be about 50% hyperbole and at least 30% old fashioned bullshit, interspersed with some real value, if you were willing to put up with the braggadocio to get to it.
Through the day, I met several people who’d had successful product launches—releases of new courses that made them $20,000, $100,00, even $300,000 in a single week.
Impressive numbers, to my inexperienced ears, and every single time, accompanied by some variation of, “the copy on that page was sick.”
Copy, I repeated to myself. Copy.
Copy, copy, copy. Got it. That’s what I have to learn.
And so in my hotel room that night—swaddled, at long last, in my glorious hoodie—I pulled up the sites I’d learned about and read, for the first time, long-form sales copy.
Sat before my eyes was a salespage.
It was okay. Just okay. But, reading, it definitely made me interested in the product. So interested that, before I knew it, I was at the bottom of the page.
Cackling like a madman, I clicked add to cart and bought the damn thing. It was 37 bucks and turned out to be a trash ebook full of typos.
But, it didn’t matter. The copy was decent, and I got to the end of the page, and felt compelled to click. I cackled some more.
At that moment, I realized something: Craig was absolutely right. This is the game. The website doesn't matter. The graphics don't matter.
To an extent, even the product itself doesn't matter! (Please don’t take that literally and put out shitty products. Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.)
In terms of making sales, what matters is how compelling the offer and the copy are.
And as I was reading this sales page, the thought resounding my head was “I can do this. I can do this better. If this is ‘good’ sales copy, I’m going to write great sales copy.”