“Ideas, I want your Ideas. Bring them to me,” the Queen said.

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

Every winter, as cold weather prevents me from playing as much tennis as I’d like, I become curious about the outside world and begin indiscriminately signing up for lists.

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!