You can hear everything if you put on the wireless headphones they give out. It’s also fun to take them off.

After about 15 minutes of dancing, you’re ready to go.

It’s a nice metaphor for editing.

Editing feels stupid at first. No one knows what you’re doing over there—they can’t hear the music. But they can tell if you’re into the music, and that’s what counts.

Writing is like the secret music in your headphones. Editing is like dancing.

Editing is best in short bursts, and in the right mood. You need to keep it loose, but dance with intention, my friend.

Want to grab a pair of wireless headphones and try it?

INSTRUCTIONS FOR YOUR 10-MINUTE SILENT EDITING DISCO:

Pair up with a friend so you don’t have to dance alone.

Start your dance mix, set a timer for 10 minutes, and start EDITING. But only for 10 minutes.

Then take a nap. (You can only DISCO twice if you take the nap first.)

Use these questions to guide you. Make tweaks, but don’t get pushy. Keep moving. Do the easy parts first.

1. When you wrote this, did you allow yourself to write 4 pages for every 1 page of copy you intend to use? Or were you trying to force the outcome to happen too soon?
2. Read it from the perspective of three of your favorite clients, and report back.
3. Send this to someone who gets you. Say you only want to know the parts that moved them or that sparked their curiosity or excitement.
4. Did you write this in a bad mood, or from a fearful place? Time to delete. Remove all but one of the explanations you find. And see if you can cut that explanation in half.
5. Anything else just feel off? Embellishments that ring false, or phrases that sound defensive or aggressive? What’s behind that? (Write about how you want it to feel, but don’t try to wordsmith it just yet. How can this feel true?)
6. Are there unnecessary words? Sections? Can something be cut & used as a blog post instead? (Are you trying to do too much convincing within the sales page itself, without using other types of content?)
7. What’s the simpler way to say it? Is that simpler way the truest way for you to say it?
8. Does your call to action provoke their curiosity?
9. What’s the one thing you want them to do? Is every element on this page serving that intention, or are you packing it with more stuff in hopes there will be something for everyone? Do you need to break this up into sub-pages or a series of emails or posts?
10. Did you use bullet points, or did you intentionally not use bullet points? Either way is fine, as long as you thought about it.
11. Did you do the scanners a kindness by incorporating headlines and bolding places to catch their attention?
12. Do the headlines make you want to read what’s beneath them?
13. Does anything in here provoke a “duh…” response from your people, and how can you tweak it so it doesn’t?
14. Does anything in here provoke a “huh?” response from your people, and how can you tweak it so it doesn’t—without over-explaining?
15. Are you playing hard to get, or are you falling all over yourself to persuade them?
16. Does this incorporate insights from customer interviews and testimonials?
17. Does this take a new approach or say it in a way no one else is saying it?
18. Is there a clear problem this solution is solving?
19. Is the problem presented in a way that gives the reader a mini-epiphany about the nature of the problem?
20. Is the problem something one might actually feel proud to have (or at least RELIEVED to read about, like someone finally gets it?) Or, are you making the problem sound shameful, condescending, embarrassing? Is this a smart-reasonable-intelligent-creative-person problem? Or an unsophisticated-person problem?
21. Are you pandering to the audience by telling them they’re smart and creative? (As if they don’t already know.)
22. Where is the surprise, and can we move it to closer to the top? Maybe so it’s the headline? What’s the most surprising thing you can say about this? How could you reverse what’s expected?
23. Does the first sentence leave them feeling incomplete and needing to know what you mean by that? This is good.
24. How are your transitions? Does it transition smoothly from one point to the next?
25. Do the headlines incorporate problems & benefits?
26. Did you address the most important objection?
27. Did you cover the benefits they already want—sneaking in a couple they never would have thought of?
28. Did you give proof points, if possible, for the benefits? Can you track them down–or ask for support?
29. How do you feel about it overall? Are there parts that just don’t feel like they’re grabbing you, for some inexplicable reason? Like they make sense and they’re correct, but they’re just not pulling you in?
30. Type-os?

Commenting policy: If I like your comment, it will be approved. I don’t always comment back, but I will nod my head and tent my fingers and say, Ahhh, yes yes yes. Your comment need not bother with fancy footwear or rational undergarments. But it does need to feel comfortable—both for you to write and for others to read. If it doesn’t feel comfortable, and if I decide I don’t want it taking up people’s brain spaces, I will let it softly float away. Perhaps one day it will return to you, and you can tuck it into bed.

She didn’t actually like to hide in trees, but it seemed better than the alternative of dressing up like an astronaut and wearing one of those gigantic glass globes and a jet pack and zooming through the air at high speeds, like so many of the other bunnies had learned to do.

She would sit there in her tree, on top of a 6-foot mound of kibble she’d collected from various parts of the world.

And she would shake and tremble, her whiskers quivering uncontrollably.

And she would look up at the sky at all of the bunny astronauts who were flying to and fro with their jet packs, and wonder why she couldn’t bear to come out of her tree and strap her jet pack back on.

This bunny couldn’t bear to go back up. Maybe she’d seen too many bunny crashes in the past. Maybe she just couldn’t leave the safety of this tree. It felt so cool and dark and quiet.

She realized she was terrified of heights. Had it always been this way? She couldn’t tell.

Perhaps this fear of heights had made her seem like one of the bravest bunny astronauts, because she was very good at pushing herself to do things she didn’t actually want to do.

Except that one day she realized she wasn’t able to push herself anymore.

And she wasn’t sure whether she was allowed to just hang out on the ground in a tree and eat kibble and perhaps one of these days poke around and have a tiny adventure in the field.

What bunny astronaut does that?

How would anyone take her seriously?

Some of the bunnies would drop letters down from the sky. Letters seemed to constantly be falling here and there. All around the base of her tree was a pile of letters, most of them addressed to her, but some of them weekly or monthly updates with news from the other bunnies’ travels.

She loved getting letters! But the sheer number of letters eventually surpassed even her ability to reflect and chew and respond.

Her regular protocol no longer seemed to be sufficient. Open the letter, scribble your reply below, and find the nearest tree letter suction distribution system. They used those old bank tubes to shoot letters back up into the sky.

Meanwhile, letters kept dropping from the sky, all around her tree.

She didn’t even know which letter to read first, so she stayed in her tree, shaking and eating kibble.
Time passed too quickly.
The pile of letters grew so that she couldn’t even see the ground anymore.
The seasons changed.

This probably isn’t very sanitary, but she was so terrified of being hit by one of these letters, or being spotted by one of the other bunny astronauts, that she remained firmly ensconced in her tree, eating her way through all of the kibble.

She wasn’t sure whether she could teach spaceship piloting when she herself didn’t particularly want to pilot spaceships. Not full-time, anyway.

And so many bunnies seemed so perfectly happy up there, jetting to and fro. They didn’t seem to miss the field at all.

But maybe they did. She couldn’t really tell from the ground.

She really just wanted to find a patch of field that was clear of bunny astronauts flying overhead, maybe have a picnic in the grass, and enjoy a nice butter lettuce salad. With some cheese.

And sometimes she actually forgot she was a bunny.

One week she went to a bunny astronaut conference.

There she took off her spacesuit and hopped around and ate lettuce with other bunnies.

There were so many bunny astronauts she admired there, and it seemed they, too, missed their old trees. And made frequent visits back.

And she felt like she wasn’t alone.

And she resolved to do something about this tree situation. And all of the letters that had piled up so high around her tree.

She didn’t want to hide in trees anymore. Neither did she want to fly through the air full-time.

And neither could she read and respond to every letter, shooting them back up the trees in the little bank cannisters.

So she decided to reflect on this.

And to give herself permission not to respond to the letters, rather than guilt-resistance-guilt-resistance, which also didn’t seem to be working.

(Unless they were active bunny clients who were already enrolled in astronaut school. These she invited into her tree. And they ate kibble. And they did bunny-nata.)

And eventually they became the kinds of bunnies who had field adventures together. And they didn’t mind spending lots of time on the ground.

Once in a while, they flew through the air like they used to in the old days. But this time it felt different, because they were free to choose.

And this bunny became a semi-reclusive bunny who only hid in trees once in a while, evenings and weekends. But most of the time you could find her hopping around, gathering ingredients for blueberry pancakes. It’s her favorite.

You can still find her on a Sunday, making blueberry pancakes.
Or hopping through the field, softly singing through her whiskers, making up fairy tales about bunnies, hanging out with squirrels.

Commenting policy: If I like your comment, it will be approved. I don’t always comment back, but I will nod my head and tent my fingers and say, Ahhh, yes yes yes. Your comment need not bother with fancy footwear or rational undergarments. But it does need to feel comfortable—both for you to write and for others to read. If it doesn’t feel comfortable, and if I decide I don’t want it taking up people’s brain spaces, I will let it softly float away. Perhaps one day it will return to you, and you can tuck it into bed.

(To the intention and the spirit and the potential of the experience.)

And when it feels complete.

(It answered enough burning questions for a certain someone to feel ready to do the next, tiniest, baby-sized thing.)

And when there’s an a-ha moment in there somewhere.

(Epiphanies, lightbulbs, and Huh-I-never-thought-of-it-that-way moments. For best results, the insight will concern all of this DRAMA they’ve been having.)

The Knights all rushed to the throne with boxes piled high—ornate, elaborate, gilded boxes of all shapes and sizes filled with all manner of Ideas.

When opened, one Idea appeared to be made with elk horn. Another with bear fur. Little claws and clippings spilled out of the boxes.

“Oh, Queen, we have so many Ideas here. Great Ideas that many others have used before. Perhaps Her Majesty would like this Idea?”

Sir Gallant presented the box. It was indeed a beautiful Idea.

“This Idea was used to win several campaigns in the past against worthy—”

The Queen cut him off.

“It’s beautiful, and thank you for your initiative, Gallant Knight, but right now I’m looking for NEW Ideas.

“And while I am grateful for your work gathering and maintaining the rich histories of these past Ideas, I would very much like to hear from other members of my Kingdom. Those who have not always been able to gain access to this court.

“In the past I have been somewhat dismissive and impatient with new Ideas. We all have been. I would like all of the Animals in this Kingdom to know that I welcome their Ideas.

“Bears, egrets, squirrels, wolves, dogs, even the ravens. Why, ravens must have many new Ideas after all the time they spend in the air, carrying messages to and fro, having insights they wish they could share, if only someone would ask.

“Good Knights, please send this message out to all the Animals of the Kingdom:

New Ideas Requested at the Palace.
You will be rewarded simply by sharing your Idea with Her Majesty.
We will then determine which Ideas we will use.

“Oh Queen, we will deliver your wise message,” said Sir Gallant. “We will dispatch your message and shout it from all of the squares. No one will be ignorant of this decree.

“And then we will capture every bear, every crow, every wolf, every hound, every bunny rabbit and bring them to you swiftly and all at once.”

They began to eagerly gallop out of the hall.

“NO, wait!” the Queen cried. “You can’t just round up all the Forest Animals and bring them here demanding new Ideas, threatening punishment if they don’t give us any good ones. They need to COME to me. It needs to feel safe. We must make this palace more habitable for them.

“Sir Gallant, don’t we have some delicious, succulent leaves in the garden? I want you to prepare enough food to share with all the Animals in the Kingdom. And let them know they are welcome here anyway, with or without their ideas. But under NO CIRCUMSTANCES are you to drag them here. That’s NOT the way I wish to get these new Ideas. They’ll be ruined.

“Despite how much I know you want to make things happen quickly, this Kingdom runs on Animal time. And they are wiser than we know.

“We need to trust that the right ones will hear the message and come, and that this will all work out in the right time and in the right order. It always has.”

“Yes, good Queen, your wish is our command.”

…to be continued

1. Just get a puppet and start doing it.
2. Make little movies with yourself. Improvise.
3. Buy some books on improvisation and then read the first chapters. Only the first chapters. Do people who buy books on improvisation ever actually finish them?
4. Perform to an audience of one.
5. Double that next week.
6. Take an improv class.
7. Promise your audience “bad puppetry.”
8. Do it until you don’t feel like it.
9. Don’t let anyone introduce you as a puppeteer. Let people earn the right to know. It’s like that sexy underwear fact about you.
10. You know it will change. Even when it feels like “no, this is it,” you always do that. You were never a puppeteer at your core. You’re bigger than just this one thing. Don’t let it define you.
11. Save it for puppet.

You know those 5 people who always click without buying anything—bumping up click-through rates while flattening your conversion?

That’s me!

My most favoritest email in the world to receive is an invitation to discover how 7-figure entrepreneurs create their business models.

I love visiting strange, new lands filled with tiny millionaires I’ve never heard of. If there’s anything salvageable and smart inside, I want to know.

To my delight, I received such an email this week.

This email led me to a sales-page-king—dozens of smaller sales pages all joined together at the tail to form one massive sales page.

This is what appeared when I tried to clip the sales page to Evernote for further study in the Copylicious laboratory:

Sorry, Evernote cannot clip this entire page. Please select the portion you wish to clip.

Evernote could not HANDLE this.

We can HANDLE this. We make space for your 10,000-word business brainstorming rambles. But lines must be drawn. Sorry.

When I tried to close the tab, I was presented with this pop-up box:

Like a mummy stumbling out from a corner on the 1983 set of Indiana Jones & the Temple of Doom, I’m sure this effect was startling and memorable for its time. Now we have The Mummy II.

My brain is old and just wants to do the right thing and click Cancel. I want to Cancel as well, but not for the same reasons the pop-up box wants me to. And my browser doesn’t even present Cancel as an option. The pressure is on!

There are two choices:

1. Stay on this Page
2. Leave this Page

WAIT! GO! CANCEL! STAY! LEAVE! NOW! WHAT DO I DOOOO?

Any 6-year-old can tell you if a guy in a van pulls up and says, WAIT BEFORE YOU GO!—it’s time to run.

LOOK I HAVE YOUR FAVORITE CANDY!
I MADE IT SPECIAL JUST FOR YOU!

I click Leave this Page, suddenly tense and afraid. This isn’t fun anymore. Will it let me just escape like that, unchallenged? Or is there a second level of I HAVE SOMETHING EVEN MORE SPECIAL FOR YOU! to pass through?

Usually, these terrifying pop-up boxes of doom just let me go. They were but the last outstretched grasps of a dying sales-page-king.

I’m free from this one. This time. Free at last! And you are, too…

BUT WAIT BEFORE YOU GO!

1. Instead of a deadline with milestones, consider a date with milkshakes.
2. Instead of a case study, consider a LIVE client fashion show.
3. Instead of free 30-minute conversations, consider posting a video in which you illuminate your process. (Or, you could do a BusinessWeek interview at the park across the street—OMG, it’s me!)
4. Instead of status updates, consider creating project open office hours in advance, so clients can message you within windows of time, knowing you’re both focused on the same stuff.
5. Instead of finding a niche, consider finding the metrics for the work you’ve already done, and showing them off on your website, in your email signatures, wherever your people can see.
6. Instead of trying to write a bio from scratch, consider first making a list of things you believe, things you don’t believe anymore, and things you’ve done in the past that tie into what you do now, in unexpected ways that somehow all make sense.
7. Instead of writing the perfect description of what you do, consider writing about what your clients do.
8. Instead of accepting a project that isn’t the right fit, consider becoming the benevolent ruler of your own world.
9. Instead of wordsmithing, consider making a new, value-based offer to high-level people.
10. Instead of convincing someone why they need you, consider convincing yourself why they don’t. Write out this conversation with yourself until you get to the end of the line, when you’re forced to acknowledge that when it comes to x, they really do need you. Start there.
11. Instead of creating the all-encompassing Services page for everyone, consider creating three client scenarios, each linking to a package.
12. Instead of writing a blog post, consider interviewing a client or customer.
13. Instead of noticing when this project is taking more time than you expected, notice when this project is giving you more energy than you expected.
14. Instead of ignoring all of those pangs of ‘this doesn’t feel true,’ consider listening to them. Then, incorporate those insights into your copy.
15. Instead of beginning your sales page with a problem, consider beginning it with a time machine that carries them into the future, so they can see clearly what’s possible.
16. Instead of positioning something as exclusive and hard-to-get, consider positioning it as the most popular thing amongst the exclusive crowd.
17. Instead of explaining how it works, consider using an unexpected or surprising anecdote about what happened when you or a client used this, or what happened when they didn’t.
18. Instead of adding one more thing to your schedule, consider taking that nap.
19. Instead of trying to increase your hourly capacity, consider increasing the number of referrals you give away.
20. Instead of writing the world’s most persuasive sales page, consider writing a mini-ebook presenting surprising workarounds to common problems.
21. Instead of finding more ways to save money, consider finding more ways to share resources.
22. Instead of knowing why this will fail, consider what’s different this time.
23. Instead of feeling guilty, consider declaring amnesty.

2. 9,432,824 people have already washed their dishes today. Join them?

3. Want cookies? Eat as many as you like, but I will need to serve them on a special dish. That one in the sink there.

4. I don’t usually accept help with the dishes, but these are special.

5. Wash five dishes, get the sixth dish licked clean by my dog.

6. Now accepting applications for the exclusive, Million-Dollar Dish Fairy Club–with a special, surprise celebrity guest.

7. What’s the connection between washed dishes and profitability? Download this free special report.

8. WANTED: People who are extraordinarily talented at dishes. ONLY ELITE DISHWASHERS NEED APPLY.

9. Elegant dish gloves. A luxurious sponge. Watermelon dish soap. Experience dishes for the first time all over again.

10. You know who does her own dishes every day? Oprah.

11. Become a member of the clean-sink club. Photograph your clean sink and compete with thousands of others who do their dishes daily!

12. Could this be you? The future title-holder of Best Dishwasher In the World?

13. These are just like the dishes you used to wash when you were little. Come back home.

14. Are you tired of eating off dirty plates? What would it take for you to decide, right now, to make a change?

15. These aren’t just dishes. These are part of a journey that begins with you.

16. Now dishes have gone social! Download the dish app and track all your washed dishes, then count up your silverware with your friends!

17. What kind of dishwasher are you? Take the quiz.

19. Never go to bed angry at the dishes.

20. You can do the dishes, or not. Whatever you decide today, you were doing the best you could with the resources you had. It’s a clean sink.

21. What can the way you wash dishes tell you about your personality–in bed?

22. What can the dish-washing lines that work on you tell you about your personality–in bed?

I think the trick is not to oversell it. Would you mind doing me a favor?

You get to visit a lot of places, but you are never there for very long.

You spend most of your time in the airport.

What is it like? Some parts are always the same.

1. You get excited about a destination.
2. You pack all your bags and you make all your plans and you put together your itinerary. You get so good at packing. You become the most efficient packer in the world.
3. And then you go through security.
4. And then you wait.
5. And you wait.
6. And you think, Why did I get here so early? I’m just sitting here.
7. You keep checking the departure times.
8. You go to the gate and then you get a snack and then you wait some more.
9. Every once in a while, you have an idea about your destination. You write it down.
10. It gets very quiet.
11. It gets very loud. Ideas! Everywhere! Everyone’s in such a hurry! There’s always that one idea standing to the left of the conveyor belt, blocking all the other ideas from passing.
12. You pass through what feels like a million ideas. Sitting with them, coming back, eliminating the ones that no longer make sense, rewriting, sitting. So much sitting.
13. And you wait. You wait for clarity. You wait for insights. You wait for your head to clear so you can see with fresh eyes.
14. Waiting.

I wish I could just power through sometimes.

Reserve a private jet and slip through security with a five-pound bottle of shampoo and the world’s largest jar of moisturizer.

But, you know, regulations.

I have to keep showing up early if I want to get to my destination on time.

Sometimes I’m lucky.
There are no lines, the airport has a Peet’s, I can zip through at the last minute.

But it’s not something I expect. I feel lucky when it happens.

Most of the time, it takes as long as it takes. I did my part by packing efficiently and arriving early.

(This is why I can’t bill by the hour. I don’t know when the plane will arrive. Why should someone pay extra for a weather delay?)

I used to mistake my anxiety in airports for a message from my body telling me I needed to go home immediately.

Since I used to ignore these messages, I wanted to do the right thing. So, I’d walk right back out the gates, past the security guy who had just inspected my bag.

Upon reaching my car, I’d realize my flight was leaving in an hour, and my destination was expecting me. Now I’m going to be really late! I’d rush back in, just in time. This is not a sustainable way to travel.

I finally realized this message from my body was not a message to leave, but a message to begin.

“I’m ready! This is important to me, so I’m making you extra alert! No brain fog—voila! Stop lolly-gagging! All systems go!”

Just like nerves before a tennis match.

When clarity eventually arrives, as it does in airports, it feels like the most ordinary thing in the world.

I have to remind myself to be grateful for this amazing miracle of flight. How we fly through the air incredibly like birds every day, and no one says anything.

We ask for the whole can of apple juice as we’re flying through the air. I’d be astonished if the whole process didn’t take so long. I’m grateful it happens at all.

(I’m starting to realize something about living in airports. They’re not bad. I might like them almost as much as I like destinations.)

We have read your website and we like you.

Just look at that face.

However, decisions are difficult right now. Email, Twitter, quarterly taxes. Someone just left a voicemail and an email. Is there any cake?

We cannot make another decision today! Let the minutes reflect we cannot!

Our preference would be this. To get excited about this decision you want us to make—so we don’t have to think about it. Then it’s not such a Decision anymore. It’s cake.

If you remember nothing else, remember this:
We want to want your stuff.

If you could know this simple fact in your bones, you would be golden. You could afford a golden chariot to carry all the gold.

How to get us to want?

Here are a few recommendations we all agree on:

1. Start with what we think we want.

If we don’t know we want your stuff, perhaps you could address what we think we want and work backwards. You can slip your magic-flavored benefits into our services when we’re not looking.

US: Wow, what is this heavenly flavor?
YOU: Surprise! That’s what I really do.
US: This is amazing! Why doesn’t everyone do it this way?

2. Tell us something we’re naturally curious about.

Something that reveals what’s true and useful about ourselves, our problems, our situation, our business. Do most people care about this thing you’re amazing at? I mean, really care as much as you care? It’s likely they don’t yet understand enough about it to care. So start with something they do care about. They’ll get it eventually.

3. Lightly, lightly.

Let go of that World’s Most Persuasive Pitch you’ve been slowly building out of rubber bands. Yes, we need to be convinced. But we don’t want to feel like we’re being convinced. Persuasion is an outcome, not a pick-up line. Do us the favor of allowing us to want it in our own time by not trying to make us want it. Give us room and some space to want it. You can also save the Explanation That Explains All for later. There is a time for taking us to your grandmother’s house to look through old family albums. Maybe not on the first date.

Pssst, I think that business over there is looking at me.

4. Don’t make us decide right now.

“I’ll think about it” is our favorite decision when we feel pressured to make a decision. These pile up, and then we forget. Give us a next step that will inform and delight us, even if we decide not to hire you. Don’t ask us to make a $5,000 decision now, or forever hold our peace. There needs to be something we can do now. That we’d have to be crazy not to do.

5. Acknowledge we’re probably scanning this.

Break up for us. Give us a title, a headline, a subject line, and a first paragraph that make us say, No way, really? Or at least, Huh! Show us where we should stop scanning with callouts, bullet points, images, illustrations. We’re willing to work with you on the brevity thing. Please, don’t pretend we’re not scanning. We’re just going to do it anyway.

6. Oh, and don’t take us too seriously.

We’re the COPs, not the cops.

Respectfully submitted,

Your future clients/customers/buyers/BFFs
from the Committee of Online Purchasers

//as dictated to KP, who is still working on incorporating these principles and needed the reminder.