Back cover from “The Elements of Style” by William Strunk & E.B. White

This one’s a sleeper.
You’re in for a treat.

Boring at first glance.

Think again, mon ami.

These old bastards just used the AIDA framework to sell you…

Sex.

Attention: “Time and again people fall in love with good writers. Words are powerfully seductive.” They’re going for the lizard brain’s jugular — everybody has a need for love, and seduction. Yep, the hook on the back cover of “Elements of Style” is — seggs.

Interest: The next two paragraphs and the bullet points. Appeal to authority and social proof. Then it tells you about all the goodies inside.

Desire: “This elegantly typeset edition is the most relevant one for today’s good writers.” ‘Well, I want to be a good writer too!’, you think, ‘because of the aforementioned wonderful things ;)’ Note how the type is larger and underlined in red.

Action: There’s no call to action. Because it doesn’t need one. In the case of the back cover copy: you’ve already got the thing in your hand. All you have to do is walk to the checkout counter, which just happens to be next to the exit, where you were going anyway.

Do I even need to elaborate how the target audience for this book is young people who are learning how to write? Idunno, probably aged 14-25?

And what could they possibly be thinking about all day apart from studying?

Completely weaponized.

You glance at your watch.

It’s 6:28. You’ve been at it since 3.
Crap. Your hot date is at 7. Running late. Sink shower it is.
Nowhere close to done editing…

“…at least all the ideas are laid out, so there’s that. Did I miss anything? I don’t think so? Ok, but how do I make it flow? I need to get the final draft to Stacey for design asap, team cutoff is at noon Thursday…”

You’ve spent dinner completely distracted. Your date just took off. You go home exhausted, plod to your desk, and crack open the laptop.

Or… it could go like this:

5:41 — you’re out of the shower and lip-syncing.
6:17 — dressed to the nines and zenned out.
7:03 — the sunset glints off your aviators as you smile hello.
8:36 — it actually feels like you’re hitting it off. Not just hot, funny to boot.
Next morning, 10:27 — polished draft ready in your inbox.
10:31 — Stacey messages back, “thanks, looks good!”

The difference?

You had Copygloss handle it yesterday afternoon.

For help with editing, email Dan:
[email protected].