Dr. Pepper is my favorite kind of Coke.
Where I grew up, a soft drink is a Coke.
For instance, if I was at the ballpark and a friend was going to make a run to the concession stand and asked me if I wanted a Coke, I’d say, “Yes. Please.”
Then she’d say, “What kind?” And I’d say, “Dr. Pepper.”
I could turn this into a lesson about the importance of building a brand that is synonymous with the product being sold: Velcro, Bandaid, etc.
But that’s nearly impossible, right?
It’s fantastic for you, your brand, your newsletter, or whatever you’re selling if you have that position in the market.
But don’t despair if you don’t. Just realize you have to create enough demand to be a portion of the market’s favorite offering.
People need to know you exist and what in your chemical makeup is different than other flavors playing in the same space.
For Dr. Pepper, it’s probably the ridiculous amount of sugar and caffeine that earned it my loyalty. A Mr. Pibb will do in a pinch.
It doesn’t matter that I call it a Coke. It matters that I chose it.
What are you doing to make sure your offering is different enough to make it someone’s favorite way of experiencing that type of product?
Ready for the kicker?
I’ve had maybe two or three Cokes (sodas, soft drinks, pop, whatever) in over 10 years.
The first time I went scuba diving, aka the first time I submersed in less than four feet of water to discover what breathing compressed air felt like, I totally panicked.
I could see my husband’s magnified goggle-clad eyes processing my fear.
Everyone in our circle of five looked totally chill, calmly breathing underwater.
But I was terrified when I least expected it.
Because I hadn’t anticipated a nonstop stream of air. While I tried to breathe slowly, my regulator was emitting a constant stream of disorienting bubbles. I couldn’t seem to slow them down.
I could try to endure it; say nothing and power through the reef tour we were about to take.
Or I could stand up.
I stood up. Above water my husband asked what was wrong.
“I didn’t expect so many bub—”
He grabbed my regulator and fiddled with it. The valve was stuck open, sending air I couldn’t continuously inhale. He fixed it on the spot.
I tried again and, bam, I was scuba diving—no excess airstream flooding my lungs. It was amazing.
So, what? Where am I going with this?
I have a question for you.
Who are you writing your newsletter to?
When those words flow out of your fingers, imagine an individual—someone you want to really connect with, not overwhelm.
You’re sending that person an email.
Even if it’s coming from a company and not an individual, it’s still being opened by a single person. The more you treat that person like a friend or coworker you want to send a good idea to—and the less you treat them like me on the other end of that faulty regulator (think, nonstop transactional content)—the better the relationship will be.
Stop with the unnecessary air supply.
Edit and curate down to just the best stuff.
Then just let them breathe you in.
Let’s talk about love and email newsletters, y’all.
It’s a thing.
Unless you’re being totally sloppy about who you give your email address to, your inbox probably has at least one newsletter subscription you enjoy.
Maybe it’s about a topic you’re really into.
Or provides educational information that helps you with your job.
Or the writer just seems to get you.
Whatever the reason, it’s not too far a stretch to say you love that newsletter. And if you’re reading this, there’s a good chance you want to deliver a lovable newsletter, too.
In Lovability, Brian de Haaf, Co-Founder and CEO of Aha!, writes about the importance of the complete product experience (CPE). The premise of Lovability is that businesses should put their customers’ experiences first and make sure they’re actually lovable.
Brian explains that lovability shows itself in three ways:
Hugs: When customers “express feelings of affection for your product and want to get closer to it, your employees, and your company.” (p. 73)
Love Notes: When customers “send your company expressions of their delight with your people, products, and CPE.” (p.74)
Megaphones: “Customers who love your CPE will tell friends and colleagues how wonderful you are, becoming your most powerful and effective marketers and advertisements.” (p.74)
I’d like to share an experience we had with lovability in the weeks leading up to the launch of Opt In Weekly and the days that followed.
Calvin, our product manager at Curated, shared a customer message with the team in July. I quickly requested we get it on the homepage of the website:
“I’ve been using your service for over 6 months now to curate my Software Testing Newsletter, and even though I was tempted by other trendy services such as Substack and Revue, honestly, you’re still the king for this kind of format. Loving all the features that allow me to quickly add links and compose the newsletter so easily each week!”– Dawid Dylowicz, Software Testing Weekly
This message accompanied Dawid’s request for a feature release that we now have in the product roadmap.
I then connected with Dawid on LinkedIn and engaged with his posts, letting him know I was new at Curated and that we really appreciated his feedback. He has a great strategy for announcing his newsletters on social media that includes tagging the authors of the content in the newest issue. Genius.
If I see his posts on LinkedIn, I like and share them. It’s a great newsletter for people interested in software testing and he’s doing a really nice job showcasing what can be done with Curated. No brainer.
Here’s the really good part, though.
After the first issue of Opt In Weekly, Dawid took time to send me a personal email with this lovely response:
That’s great stuff!
I’ve been following you on LinkedIn since you invited me to connect and I must say I feel more bond with the Curated brand now.
I mean, now I can see who’s behind it and it gains my trust. Plus I feel reassured I chose the platform well.
That’s purely thanks to your constant online presence that brings great value every time.
And now, this newsletter makes it even better.
Your boss is a lucky guy to have such a talented old friend.
Just my two cents.
PS. I was about to recommend Twitter to you as your LinkedIn post format would perfectly fit on this social media but I can see you’ve already created an account. Can’t wait to see your content there!”
So many hugs, love notes, and megaphones, right?
Aside from the fact that Dawid is delightful proof of the value in pulling back the curtain and making sure to connect with customers, his encouragement about Opt In Weekly is part of what inspires me to keep it lovable by staying reader-centric and authentic to what I want to achieve: loading you up with really good resources for making your newsletter amazing.
This issue delivers, I hope.
I’m in the middle of a dilemma.
There’s a good chance you are, too.
Social media has made it incredibly easy to connect with people, but it’s also addictive and persuasive.
We’ve all known this, on some level, for years, but the Netflix documentary The Social Dilemma presents the unsavory side of social in a way that has me questioning my online behavior.
It features interviews with former employees of the platforms that we all seem to love/hate. They’re warning us: we’re caught in a dangerous trap.
Did you click through to the website yet?
When you do you’ll notice a notification at the top of the site. I dare you not to click it.
Actually, you should. You’ll learn something about the persuasive power of notifications.
This concept is further explained in the documentary, along with how weak our minds are against software built to keep us logged on for as long as possible. Our attention is being sold while we’re fed an augmented reality that risks destabilizing trust in, well, anything.
While I’m still sorting through my own reliance on—and enjoyment of—social media, I’m increasingly aware that we need to demand better. We need to regulate the platforms that allow fake news to spread at six times the rate of actual truth.
I think this is why I’ve always been more fond of email newsletters. I feel like I have more control over what I’m exposed to in an inbox I curate. I intentionally subscribe to information from a range of sources with differing viewpoints.
If a publication, brand, or individual earns my trust, I open and consume their content.
If they’ve lost it, I unsubscribe.
Also, when I send mine to you, I know you’ll get it and can decide if you want to read it. That feels more comforting than hoping an algorithm shows you what I post.
That doesn’t mean I’m off social. But I’m more acutely aware of the give and take of my attention. I’m determined to teach my daughters to recognize what social addiction is and equip them to battle it before they’re allowed that privilege.
Lately, I’ve enjoyed LinkedIn because there’s less political content and useful professional posts seem to be appropriately rewarded. We’ll see if it can hold out.
For now, let’s focus on how to create emails that build trust in the midst of our dilemma.
Thanks for inviting me into your inbox,
Have you ever been to Mississippi? It’s where I grew up. Everyone there has a
story collection of stories.
We’re addicted to entertaining you with words. We love that transfixed look on your face when we talk. You’re probably just trying to figure out what we’re saying. It’s just a drawl, y’all.
How you say what you say can deter, bore, or mesmerize. It goes the same with writing. I’ve spent my career as a storyteller, putting words to page as a journalist, copywriter, and marketer.
With this newsletter, my goal is to help you earn and keep your reader’s attention.
Opt In will be a carefully curated collection of ideas, each chosen to inspire and fuel your content ambitions, from writing, to curating, and publishing.
So how can we get people to read our emails?
Dennis Shiao recently pointed out that some of us have forgotten to be relational in our email content. To foster deeper relationships, we have to be willing to be human. To me, that means real, transparent, and sometimes flawed.
I’m pretty practiced at being flawed. But those are stories for future issues…
Let’s dive in.