๐—ง๐—ต๐—ฒ ๐—ฆ๐—ฐ๐—ต๐—ผ๐—ผ๐—น ๐—•๐˜‚๐˜€ ๐—›๐—ฎ๐—ฑ ๐—ฎ ๐—•๐—ฒ๐˜๐˜๐—ฒ๐—ฟ ๐—›๐—ผ๐—ผ๐—ธ ๐—ง๐—ต๐—ฎ๐—ป ๐— ๐—ผ๐˜€๐˜ ๐—”๐—ฑ๐˜ƒ๐—ฒ๐—ฟ๐˜๐—ถ๐˜€๐—ฒ๐—บ๐—ฒ๐—ป๐˜๐˜€

I can’t remember much of what my first-grade teacher said.

But I can still remember those school bus mornings.

Back then, school buses didn’t have seatbelts. At least ours didn’t.

When the driver made a sharp turn, you’d better have a firm grip on the seat. Otherwise, you’d find yourself sprawled on the floor.

And then there was breakfast.

Parents would fill their children’s stomachs with sugary cereal before shoving them onto a bus that bounced and rattled like a paint shaker.

Just about every morning, somebody threw up.

It was practically a rite of passage.

Here’s the thing:

I couldn’t tell you what my teacher taught us on any particular morning. But decades later, I can still picture that bus, feel the turns, and remember the unfortunate fate of somebody’s bowl of Frosted Flakes.

There’s a useful copywriting lesson hiding in all that childhood misery:

๐—ฃ๐—ฒ๐—ผ๐—ฝ๐—น๐—ฒ ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—บ๐—ฒ๐—บ๐—ฏ๐—ฒ๐—ฟ ๐˜ƒ๐—ถ๐˜ƒ๐—ถ๐—ฑ ๐—ถ๐—บ๐—ฎ๐—ด๐—ฒ๐˜€ ๐—ณ๐—ฎ๐—ฟ ๐—ฏ๐—ฒ๐˜๐˜๐—ฒ๐—ฟ ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฎ๐—ป ๐˜ƒ๐—ฎ๐—ด๐˜‚๐—ฒ ๐—ฎ๐—ฏ๐˜€๐˜๐—ฟ๐—ฎ๐—ฐ๐˜๐—ถ๐—ผ๐—ป๐˜€.

Suppose you’re selling a rugged wristwatch. You could tell people it’s extremely durable.

Or you could describe how it survived a three-story fall onto concrete without missing a second.

One is a claim. The other puts a little movie in the reader’s head. That’s the difference between making a statement and planting an image in someone’s head.

One disappears almost immediately. The other can stick around for decades.

RW

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Richard's avatar

By Richard

Richard is a copywriter and direct response specialist.