A shire horse is about 18 hands high at the withers. I’m a good 19 hands high at the eyebrows.
I’m telling you this nonsense because I’m about to mount up on my high horse, and I need you to know just how high it is.
Real fuckin’ high.
Because I’ve got a bone to pick with a piece of received wisdom that some copywriters and marketers love to spout.
This one.
“The job of a first line is to prompt you to read the second. And the second to prompt you to read the third.”
How smart. How insightful. The job of every single sentence you can or will ever write is to get you to read the next one.
Bollocks.
Reductionist bollocks.
I agree, the point of a headline is to get you to read the body copy. But taking that to its (il)logical conclusion and applying it to everything you write won’t help you do what you set out to do when you started typing.
Let’s work backwards.
What’s the point of the final line of copy on a page? The call to action?
It’s to get you to act, right?
So what’s the point of the penultimate line?
Let’s say it is to get you to read the final line. Cool. So the antepenultimate line?
Follow the logic.
That’s to get you to read the line to get you to read the final line?
It’s already falling apart. So what if you’ve got 12 sentences on that page? What does that make the job of the first sentence?
To get you to read the line to get you to read the line to get you to read the line to get you to read the line to get you to read the line to get you to read the line to get you to read the line to get you to read the line to get you to read the line to get you to read the line to get you to read the line to get you to read the final line that gets you to act.
Read that paragraph out loud. Tell me what it sounds like to you.
Sounds like bollocks to me.
Reductionist bollocks.
Sounds like the only line with an actual business case behind it is that last one. The one that makes you take action.
What are we doing here?
Why can’t line number six be so good, be so compelling, that you skip the next five and scroll straight to that buy/enquire/book/reserve line? If the other lines are just verbal pavement, who are they for? You, or the reader?
Are we writing to be read, or are we writing to sell?
If I was writing to be read, I’d write a book. I had an idea for a book in 2010. Wrote a chapter of it. It’s about a time travelling detective who solves history-themed mysteries. I know it’s a good idea because it turns out it’s pretty much Dirk Gently, and that’s a good book. But Dirk Gently already exists, so I don’t write to be read.
I write to sell.
Which means the job of every sentence I write is to persuade.
The job of a line of copy is to prompt action.
Or to provide supporting evidence to prompt that action.
Or to provide an emotional foundation for prompting that action.
In that case, the best line of copy isn’t the one that gets you to read the next line.
The best line of copy is the one that gets you to skip everything else and head straight for the buy button.
A line that exists only to set up the next line isn’t sales copy. It’s the setup of a joke.
And writing your marketing material like that can only ever turn you into a punchline.
Don’t be a punchline. Share this post.
Something mint - this B&Q poster
I’m often accused of getting on my high horse about designers. Calling them blue gradient obsessed felt-tip eaters.
That’s because that’s exactly the sort of thing I say. That and, apparently, antepenultimate.
But a good designer can elevate copy. Like this idea - that only works because the “You can do it” line that’s synonymous with B&Q works with this fun visual of a B&Q product removing the customer’s objection.
It’s extremely literal. It’s extremely simple. It’s extremely good.
And its purpose isn’t “just to get me to read the next line” - the B&Q logo - it’s to provide an emotional grounding. To provoke a feeling of resolve.
Its purpose is to make me realise I can tackle that big DIY project if I go and buy the right tools from B&Q.
There’s a whole series. And all of them work the same way.
All of them work.
But that’s just what I think. And I’m the sort of person who uses words like antepenultimate in his rants.