Smaller rabbit holes
Get your coat, love
Cold emails without the 70’s chat-up lines.
2 mins
Imagine walking up to a complete stranger in a bar.
You introduce yourself, tell them where you work.
Explain how brilliant your previous relationship was. All the amazing results you achieved together. Award-winning results.
List all the impressive things you've achieved in life.
Mention how different you are from everyone else in the room. How much better you'd be at solving all their problems and achieving their goals.
Never ask them a single question. Never show the slightest bit of interest in who they are.
Then, after five uninterrupted minutes talking entirely about yourself, you ask:
"Fancy grabbing a coffee next week?"
It's not exactly a mystery why they politely excuse themselves to visit the toilets and never return.
And yet.
Oddly enough, we do exactly this in cold outreach.
Open your average sales email and count how many sentences begin with:
I...
We...
Our...
We'd love...
We specialise...
It's amazing how quickly a cold email turns into an autobiography.
The problem isn't talking about yourself.
Eventually, you'll have to.
The problem is assuming that's why somebody opened the email in the first place.
One of my favourite little copywriting tests is ridiculously simple.
Who's the main character?
If the answer is:
Me.
...there's a fair chance I've picked the wrong protagonist.
Nobody enjoys being the supporting character in somebody else's sales email. Curiosity is far more attractive than self-importance.
Lead with an observation, demonstrate you understand their world. Give them a reason to think, "Huh. That's interesting."
Then, and only then, tell them who you are.
The irony is that introducing yourself usually works much better once you've stopped trying to introduce yourself.
Or, you know. Keep using chat up lines that went out of fashion in the 70's. Your call.
Imagine walking up to a complete stranger in a bar.
You introduce yourself, tell them where you work.
Explain how brilliant your previous relationship was. All the amazing results you achieved together. Award-winning results.
List all the impressive things you've achieved in life.
Mention how different you are from everyone else in the room. How much better you'd be at solving all their problems and achieving their goals.
Never ask them a single question. Never show the slightest bit of interest in who they are.
Then, after five uninterrupted minutes talking entirely about yourself, you ask:
"Fancy grabbing a coffee next week?"
It's not exactly a mystery why they politely excuse themselves to visit the toilets and never return.
And yet.
Oddly enough, we do exactly this in cold outreach.
Open your average sales email and count how many sentences begin with:
I...
We...
Our...
We'd love...
We specialise...
It's amazing how quickly a cold email turns into an autobiography.
The problem isn't talking about yourself.
Eventually, you'll have to.
The problem is assuming that's why somebody opened the email in the first place.
One of my favourite little copywriting tests is ridiculously simple.
Who's the main character?
If the answer is:
Me.
...there's a fair chance I've picked the wrong protagonist.
Nobody enjoys being the supporting character in somebody else's sales email. Curiosity is far more attractive than self-importance.
Lead with an observation, demonstrate you understand their world. Give them a reason to think, "Huh. That's interesting."
Then, and only then, tell them who you are.
The irony is that introducing yourself usually works much better once you've stopped trying to introduce yourself.
Or, you know. Keep using chat up lines that went out of fashion in the 70's. Your call.