The "secrets" of my success... 1. Starting at Ogilvy and getting a first-class introduction to "Madison Avenue" ad agency advertising (it's where I learned to balance great creativity with great salesmanship) 2. Working on direct response for super-savvy clients like Boardroom/Bottom Line, Rodale, Agora, Procter & Gamble, and so many others — and constantly seeing the results of my efforts 3. Teaming up with great writers and seeing how they work, getting their critiques, and picking their brains — including Jim Rutz, Jim Punkre, Dan Rosenthal, and John Carlton 4. Competing against great writers, which forced me to constantly up my game 5. Working on many different types of projects, from traditional radio and TV commercials and print ads to direct mail, infomercials, VSLs, online ads, and online sales pages (not to mention a few jingles) 6. Working on an incredibly wide variety of products and services — from toilet cleaner and laundry detergent to industrial o-rings to $20,000 high-end seminars 7. Getting exposure to hundreds of different markets and niches, where I learned the best practices of each 8. Having been at this for awhile

Here's a story I tell my students and clients who use AI to write copy… I was once creative director for a direct response agency that hosted elaborate dinners for our clients. The president was particularly fussy about one thing: the water glasses. They could only be the finest crystal. When I asked him why he would pay $150 per glass for high-end crystal, he gently tapped one of the empty glasses. It rang like a bell and seemed to want to go on vibrating forever. “That’s why,” he said. Test your copy — especially AI-assisted copy — the same way. Give it a tap by reading it aloud. Does it vibrate with life as if there’s clearly a living, breathing, feeling human behind it? Or does it clunk like cheap glassware?

There was an article the other day in the Wall Street Journal about how writers, driven by the growing antipathy for “AI slop,” are deliberately trying to disguise AI-generated copy. They’re inserting typos and colloquialisms such as “hey,” “yo,” and “for real.” They’re deleting or double-dashing em-dashes, and covering up AI’s incriminating mannerisms, such as “It’s not X, it’s Y,” and doing away with phrases like “essential for” and “rather than.” I’m reminded of the movie Weekend at Bernie’s, where the main characters try to make a corpse (Bernie) seem alive by shoving sunglasses on him, propping him up, and pushing him around in a wheelchair to parties. Copy that resonates as real doesn't just avoid superficial AI "tells." It has humanness baked into it from the start.

I've reviewed and transformed thousands of pieces of copy for hundreds of clients and copywriters I coach. And my advice invariably boils down to… More contrast. More contrast with what their competitors are doing. More contrast with what people mistakenly believe — or are being lied to about. And — perhaps biggest of all — more contrast with how prospects expect to be sold to. As AI perpetuates its epidemic of sameness, contrast begets an ever more powerful advantage.

I never thought I'd find myself sympathetic to the Luddites. "Luddite" is such a brain-tickler of a word, isn't it — with that funny “udd” sound, like Elmer Fudd. But there was nothing funny about them at the time. These 19th-century English textile workers were furious that new tech was threatening their livelihoods. They lashed out by destroying the newfangled knitting machines, power looms, and spinning frames. I used to look upon them with both wry amusement at their resistance to what was so clearly good and inevitable, and pride in my own willingness to embrace change. But today I find myself in sympathy with them. Not quite ready to pick up a sledgehammer and head to the nearest AI data center. But I’m getting there. Because I see so many people and companies misusing AI to their (and my!) detriment. Not just written and visual AI slop. But sloppy thinking. No thinking. More mistakes. More inefficiency. More work created because tasks were handed to AI without enough thought, judgment, or human oversight. And the biggest danger is that small errors — in copy, strategy, or workflow — multiply as they’re built upon. Like a pilot who makes an error setting his course by just a few degrees. At first, he's only off course by a small amount. But over a few hundred miles, he's headed for the wrong city altogether. So don't get taken in by all the hype about how AI is going to make millions of jobs completely unnecessary because AI will supposedly do it all so well, or how it will enable you to create and run a billion-dollar company with the touch of a button. Above all, resist AI's seductive "let me do it all for you" sweet talk. Instead, stay at the controls from takeoff to landing with your thinking, your creativity, and your oversight. For now, keep the AI autopilot disengaged.

A friend texted me that she was going to "workout" today. Grammatical obsessive that I am, I had to point out: "Since it’s a verb, you 'work out' at your 'workout.' Just as you 'set up' a 'setup,' 'log in' with your 'login' and 'pick up' a 'pickup.'" "Wow," she replied, "you learn something new everyday." I didn’t have the heart to tell her it should be "every day."

“Stop thinking with your fingers.” This was the advice given to acclaimed non-fiction author Robert Caro by his creative writing teacher at Princeton. It perfectly encapsulates my philosophy that good writing is more about thinking than writing. His solution was to write his first drafts in longhand, a practice he continues to this day. (And his Lyndon Johnson biography alone is 4 volumes — so far! — with each volume around 1,000 pages.) Here’s what I find works for me: ✅ Taking a walk or just sitting in silence ✅ Writing and sketching on my reMarkable tablet ✅ Talking over what I’m writing about with others You?

Working for a company that markets a lottery app taught me this... Lottery players aren't bad at math. In fact, most of them know the odds are terrible. What they're actually buying is the possibility of a different life. This is also what drives gym memberships, online courses, investment newsletters, and many other products? People don't just buy outcomes. They buy the right to imagine outcomes.

In sales copy, don't be too sure that your well-told story is having the effect you think it is. Because the story that matters isn't yours. It's the one prospects tell themselves. You can make your story vivid, specific, and true. But your prospects will still edit what doesn't fit what they think and feel. Trial lawyers know this. The prosecution says: the defendant broke in and stole the money. The defense says: he was asleep at home. The jurors each construct their own story to decide guilt or innocence. That's one reason lawyers test their stories on mock juries. And why you should always test your sales story and your copy.