PrologueLet’s think through the concept of the king cake baby.
Not familiar?
It’s a Mardis Gras thing.
Every year, the Feast of Epiphany (King’s Day, as in the 3 Kings of the Christian Christmas story) kicks off Mardis Gras season.
Also known as party hard until you can’t party (Lent).
Fat Tuesday (Mardis Gras) is the last hurrah before Ash Wednesday, when you give up vices until Easter.
And there’s cake.
King cake.
Think cinnamon coffee cake with icing and symbolic sprinkles (need an image?).
And a plastic baby hidden inside.
Which someone will find (hopefully without choking) and announce, “I got the baby!”
They’ll also have to buy the next king cake (and host the next king cake party).
It’s like a relay of passing the buck to the next host for a month or so.
Beyond the Christian undertones of this revealed messiah embedded in deliciousness, there’s the idea that even though it will mean incurring a fee and buying the next cake, you really want that baby.
Why?
My husband brought one home from his recent trip to Louisiana and we spent three days slicing a tasty king cake without finding the baby until one last, unclaimed slice remained.
“What are the odds?” we thought.
And we questioned whether the bakery might have forgotten to include it.
Our youngest was determined. She could eat one more slice to put the matter to rest.
And she was rewarded.
“I got the baby!”
Pure joy over discovering a thing she knew should be there.
Over the bakery delivering what it promised.
Icing across her face and a plastic baby in her fingers, she giggled, reassured that the king cake's intended destiny (that baby finding experience) had been fulfilled.
And so, I ask you this:
Is your newsletter based on a promise that you deliver in each issue?
Is the content in it, and its discovery, creating king cake baby moments?
And doing it so well that your reader opens each next issue expecting to be delighted?
Today’s issue has what I hope you consider multiple deliveries.
I’ve rounded up some inspiration I hope you can put to use in your newsletter strategy.
Also, I encourage you to reply and let me know which, if any, hit the mark and inspire your next confection.
I’ve been contemplating the voices in my head.
Don’t gawk.
You have them, too.
The ones that can guide you as you write, revise, and publish.
Are they asking the right questions?
Here’s a good test for building a truly recognizable brand identity and voice in your newsletter:
When you draft the content, ask:
“Is this unique to my newsletter?
Could just anyone say it this way?”
If you want to stand out, don’t blend in.
So cliché, I know.
But there’s value in writing something a reader will remember as YOURS.
Think about an artist you’d recognize just by seeing their work.
A musician.
A television producer—for me, this is Amy Sherman-Palladino. The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel is Gilmore Girls 3.0.
She has a style that is uniquely hers.
Almost impossible to mimic.
Confession: this is hard.
I don’t always listen.
When I do, I tap into telling a story the way only I can.
With vulnerable details.
And pauses that prompt my reader (you) to think.
Absorb.
Connect.
I bring a lesson into the process.
And save a little surprise for the end.
Like the fact that my grandmother once heard so many voices that she underwent electric shock therapy, which didn’t work.
So her doctor advised she take up smoking.
I don’t smoke.
I try to listen to the voices. 😉
What do yours tell you?
Today’s issue includes some inspirational newsletter industry voices you’ll want to consider.
Zelda Love Sweets has been a seasonal visitor in our home for six years.
Our Elf on the Shelf, named by my daughters when they were two and four, is not overly creative.
She was a gift from a grandmother.
Another todo to add to our parenting list and bring some extra anxiety to our lives between Thanksgiving and Christmas.
She does not take marshmallow bubble baths or TP the playroom.
That stuff takes effort.
We don’t want her feeling stressed to perform.
It’s enough for her to find a new place to perch every night after making her trip to the North Pole and back.
If you’ve never woken up and realized that poor Zelda did not move an inch, you don’t really know what failure feels like.
The pressure to delight children day after day is pretty intense, but their joy is worth it.
We assume our eldest has the whole thing figured out, but she pretends she does not.
This is the same child who took it upon herself to move an elf around for her third grade classroom.
It was a knock-off elf someone had given our family and did not possess the magic powers Zelda does.
Her teacher had said they didn’t have a class elf, but one appeared and moved during recess each day.
Even the teacher had no clue our daughter was doing this until that last, chaotic week before holiday break, when I found out and made her confess.
Does this rambling have anything to do with your newsletter, you’re wondering?
Of course.
It’s a nod to the power of consistent delight.
I’m not saying you have to set up the equivalent of an elf-sized snow angel imprint in flour for your audience with every send, but you’d better MOVE YOUR ELF.
Make discovering her next move exciting enough to open, read, and look forward to what’s coming next.
Your readers’ joy is your primary goal.
Note: This is my last issue of 2020. Opt In Weekly will be back Thursday, January 7. I’m switching to Thursdays to better balance my work week, and possibly yours. Please let me know if you’re enjoying this newsletter, and, if you feel like giving me a gift this season, share it with someone you think will like it, too.
Wishing you a heaping spoonful of elf magic this holiday season,
A person’s actions teach you what to expect from them, right?
It’s the same for a company’s content.
Think this through with me.
When we engage with a person over a period of time, we have the chance to determine their credibility and reliability.
Do they follow through, or do they fall short of what they said they’d do?
The moment you realize a person is full of it, or just not getting you and what you care about, you decide not to deepen the relationship.
That takes some time.
Conversations.
A series of evaluations.
Now, imagine that person is a brand’s content.
First, you discover it (word of mouth, SEO, paid media, EMAIL NEWSLETTER).
Then, over a series of interactions, you determine if it’s worth going further with each group of words you consume.
This is why content for the sake of content falls short.
Each and every bit of your messaging should further prove that you actually do what you say you do.
Consider each piece a potential step forward in the relationship with your reader.
When someone consumes it, does it make them want more?
Ask yourself, with every issue you send, “If I read this, would I want more?”
Do you ever feel overwhelmed by all the advice coming at you from… well, all the people who use the internet to get your attention?
I do.
Especially when the advice is mediocre.
Or a diluted summary of advice that I could be getting from a more credible source, except the person delivering it is acting as if they thought it up because they heard if they provide informative content they can try to sell me something.
Publishing is so easy these days.
Winning my recognition and loyalty is tough.
Last week, I wrote about being undeletable.
This week—and this could easily be based on the fact that I’m processing all the emails I restrained from opening during the Thanksgiving break—I’m overwhelmed by how many senders use a flawed bait and switch approach.
As I open, swipe, delete (and occasionally unsubscribe) on repeat, I’m reminded that only a handful have EARNED the right to sell me something.
What do I mean?
Only a small segment of people (who use the internet to get my attention) have made so many “undeletable” deposits with me via email that when they launch a sales sequence or squeeze a product plug into their newsletter, it doesn’t sting.
It actually feels like something I might want to invest in.
Or a next step in our relationship.
So I’m going to stick to applying my own standards for newsletters and sales emails (which, when done right don’t even read as sales emails) to my own newsletter and encourage you to do the same.
Earn the right to sell your reader something.
Or show them a sponsored ad.
Or mention your product.
Or charge them for your premium content.
Earn it with content they rely on and really want to read.
In today’s issue, I’ve curated some very solid advice and ponderings from experts to help us strategize and improve our newsletters.
Many of them have extensive experience with figuring out what people really want and how to give it to them.
Newsflash: it’s not always what we want it to be.
We all subscribe to newsletters, right?
I mean, you’re subscribed to a newsletter about newsletters, so I have to assume it’s not the only one that hits your inbox.
And while the metrics we all focus on are the ever important open and click rates, I find myself wishing there was a way to measure deletion rates.
Huh?
I’ll explain.
There are some emails I get that I open, scan, determine they serve no purpose for me, and delete.
There are some that contain links I deem worth clicking and open new tabs, either to read right away or “save for later.”
I then typically satisfy some bit of my brain that does a happy dance when I delete the email.
“There. I’ve processed this. I can move on.”
As if it’s a pesky task I just conquered.
But there are some I know I’m not done with yet.
Some that either contain or link to such good information that I cannot bear to destroy them.
“What if I accidentally close that open tab?”
“What if I forget how the sender made a topic that never made sense before suddenly so clear? Or just wrote so well I wish I could add it to my bookshelf?”
Those are rare.
They get saved, flagged, added to swipe files.
I know those words warrant revisiting.
They’re too good to delete.
Is your newsletter undeletable?
Do your readers feel like they found a secret goldmine that gets delivered right to their inbox?
Here’s the kicker: This issue of Opt In might be one you delete. It’s Thanksgiving week and I’m trying to take a little break from work and count my blessings.
So I’m reducing the usual content overload down to an appetizer and will hit you with a feast next Tuesday.
There are less links and less commentary than usual. If this is your first issue, hang in there.
Or go check out the archives. Every issue is available on the publication site and you can search by topic if that’s your thing.
It’s been 10—wait, 11—amazing weeks.
And we’re just getting started.
Happy Thanksgiving, all.
Have you spent much time thinking about free content vs paid content?
If you’re sending a newsletter it must have at least crossed your mind.
As a trained-journalist-turned-content-marketer I can get a little paralyzed considering what should be free and what should be paid.
A decade or two ago, being a quality writer meant your income was supported by sponsorships and paying subscribers (often both).
And then, as it became easier for brands to reach audiences via social media and search engines, more and more content became free to achieve traffic. I started getting paid to assign, edit, and write that free content.
Paid and free content battle for our attention.
While one company’s business goal may be to generate free educational content to build credibility as an industry thought leader and attract clients, another might be charging for the same type of content as part of a membership model business.
At the same time, a business publication may be paying writers to produce similar content for their sponsored subscription publication while another may be charging readers $10/mo and offering ad-free content.
This is not The Mandalorian. There is not one WAY.
Sometimes free content is a gateway to purchase a product, service, or solution.
Sometimes access to paid content is worth it to get straight to high-quality information and cut through the noise.
As newsletter creators, we choose which model(s) will help us achieve our individual goals.
We’re not all selling the same thing.
But we are all hoping for opens, clicks, and trust.
So make the things you’re selling worth paying for, and let your free content (whether that’s newsletter issues, blogs, social posts) deepen the reader/creator relationship so that a purchase is a next natural step.
This week’s issue includes advice from people who have faced the free or paid (or combo) dilemma, as well as other common newsletter creator decisions.
Let’s study THEIR WAYS.
Let’s talk about feeling nudged vs feeling nagged.
Maybe these should be the 2 Ns of email newsletters?
It’s basic psychology (I hope—I have zero formal psych education, but I’ve been writing with a reader’s reaction in mind since my first book, published in 4th grade).
People like to own their decisions.
They do not like to be badgered into making them.
They prefer to opt in, not to be pushed into providing their email address.
You wouldn’t go on a dating platform, connect with someone, and propose before the first date. Again, no experience with this but the 4th grader in me thinks this approach would be ridiculous.
So, why, oh why, if I visit your website for the VERY FIRST TIME are you asking me to give you something as precious as my email address before I’ve consumed at least a few scrolls worth of content?
Today’s issue includes some topics we newsletter creators should consider:
It’s a mix of advice from people who know a thing or two about nudging vs nagging.
My hope is that these curated tidbits will help you stay in the nudge zone (but not the friend zone).
Oh, and you should know my daughters recently read that story I wrote in 4th grade and they think the ending is lousy because everything they thought would happen happened.
BORING.
Maybe I’ve improved since then...
I asked my CEO a simple question on a 1:1 call.
I got, “Well, let me answer this the JD Graffam way.”
He set a scene.
Developed an arc.
Introduced conflict.
Helped me understand his vision.
Brought me into it.
I’m more invested in my part of the outcome now that I’ve heard that story.
He content marketed me into understanding and caring, and it was authentic (and probably strategic).
Never underestimate the value of a good story.
Your newsletter is telling one to your reader.
Make it worth reading.
This week’s edition of Opt In Weekly is loaded with inspiring stories and tips you can use to do just that.
Note: This Prologue is an adaptation of a post I made on LinkedIn that had solid engagement and grew my connections list. See more about LinkedIn content strategies in Ready to Improve Your LinkedIn Marketing Game? below.
Let’s think about bingeable content.
What makes something so good you can’t resist coming back for more?
It’s the allure of the unfinished story, of course.
Strategic writers know the psychological power of holding something back.
They also know we’ll be more committed to returning if we’re emotionally invested in the outcome of the main character, the hero.
So they develop that character, help us really understand her challenges, inner conflicts, and what triggers her actions.
That way, when the current chapter, episode, or season abruptly closes with a new challenge looming in the future, we’ll decide to come along for the ride.
Shouldn’t your newsletter be that way?
Whether it’s a paid newsletter delivering business advice, a free subscription you use as a brand marketing tactic, or something in between, the goal should be to engage your reader in a way that keeps him coming back for more.
Your target audience members are the heroes in the overarching story your newsletter tells.
Write it in a way that develops them the same way a dramatic series writer does. Know what they want, what they’re conflicted about, and what will help.
Then provide some resolution.
Consistently give them information that furthers their journey, but do it in a way that keeps them asking, “What’s next?” and trusting you’ll provide the answer.
This approach is a synthesis of an article I’ve included below (Can Content Marketing Hook People the Way Netflix Does?) and Donald Miller’s StoryBrand methodology.
Let’s apply it to our newsletters and NEVER FINISH THE STORY.
