
When I was a kid, my mother took me to see ๐๐ช๐ณ๐ฆ๐ง๐ฐ๐น, starring Clint Eastwood.
On the way to the theater, she casually mentioned that Eastwood also directed the movie.
This information nearly melted my brain.
I knew what actors did. They stood in front of cameras, said their lines, and occasionally punched bad guys.
I knew what directors did. They stood behind cameras, shouted instructions, and told actors when they screwed up.
But how could Eastwood do both?
Who told him where to stand? Who yelled “Cut!” when he flubbed a line?
And most importantly, who had the nerve to tell Dirty Harry his acting stunk?
I eventually learned that directors have plenty of help. Assistant directors, cinematographers, editors, and other professionals contribute to making a movie.
But that childhood mystery raises an interesting problem for copywriters.
๐ช๐ต๐ผ ๐ฑ๐ถ๐ฟ๐ฒ๐ฐ๐๐ ๐ฌ๐ข๐จ๐ฅ ๐ฝ๐ฒ๐ฟ๐ณ๐ผ๐ฟ๐บ๐ฎ๐ป๐ฐ๐ฒ?
Think about it.
You write a headline. Brilliant!
You write the opening. Riveting!
You write the offer. Irresistible!
Then you read the whole thing and congratulate yourself on another masterpiece.
Unfortunately, your prospect wasn’t invited to this little awards ceremony.
She may find your headline confusing, your opening boring, and your offer about as irresistible as a root canal.
And you’ll never know if the only person reviewing your copy is the same genius who wrote it.
That’s why you need outside feedback.
Show your copy to people who weren’t involved in creating it. Watch where they get confused. Ask what they think you’re promising.
Even Clint Eastwood needed other eyes on his movies.
๐ฌ๐ผ๐๐ฟ ๐๐ฎ๐น๐ฒ๐ ๐ฐ๐ผ๐ฝ๐ ๐ฝ๐ฟ๐ผ๐ฏ๐ฎ๐ฏ๐น๐ ๐ฑ๐ผ๐ฒ๐, ๐๐ผ๐ผ.
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