Imagine ordering a cup of coffee at a fancy little neighborhood cafรฉ.
Before the barista hands it over, he tells you about the beans. Grown high in the mountains. Picked at just the right moment. Roasted in small batches by somebody who apparently considers coffee a religious calling.
Now take a sip. Pretty darn good, right?
Maybe. But here’s the interesting part: the barista started working on your taste buds before the coffee touched your tongue.
You weren’t simply handed a drink. You were handed a set of expectations.
That’s ๐๐๐ด๐ด๐ฒ๐๐๐ถ๐ผ๐ป at work. Context can influence what people notice, anticipate, and sometimes even experience. The story doesn’t magically improve bad coffee, but it can change how someone approaches the first sip.
Copywriters ought to pay attention.
Suppose you’re selling a writing course. You could lead with twelve modules, forty videos, and a downloadable workbook. You’ve just described a filing cabinet.
Or you could open with the moment your buyer wants: sitting down with a messy offer and knowing exactly how to find its strongest selling point.
Now the course has a job to do.
Of course, you’d better deliver on that promise. A delicious backstory won’t rescue a cup of burnt sludge, and clever framing won’t save a lousy product.
Here’s the trick: before describing what you’re selling, decide what you want your buyer to notice when they encounter it.
Then give them a truthful reason to look there.
๐ง๐ต๐ฒ ๐ณ๐ถ๐ฟ๐๐ ๐๐ถ๐ฝ ๐๐๐ฎ๐ฟ๐๐ ๐น๐ผ๐ป๐ด ๐ฏ๐ฒ๐ณ๐ผ๐ฟ๐ฒ ๐๐ต๐ฒ ๐ฐ๐๐ฝ ๐ฟ๐ฒ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฒ๐ ๐๐ต๐ฒ๐ถ๐ฟ ๐น๐ถ๐ฝ๐.
RW
.
.
.