Isn.t that the grooviest word: copywriting? Not copyright as in legal intellectual rights, but copywriting as in writing the back blurb: you know, the ‘elevator pitch’ on the back cover of books. When I first came across this word, I had thought, ‘Weird that they would call this copyrighting–what does copyrighting have to do with marketing materials?’. Finally, it occurred to me, it.s copyWriting not copyRighting! Even the words to describe copywriting are groovy. If, you.re, say, copywriting, and someone asks you what you.re doing, you can say, ‘I.m writing copy’. It sounds very serious. And esoteric. And mysterious. That.s something I.d like to be able to say one day, just for the sake of saying something so awesome. Everyone must have a storehouse of phrases like that: things that would be so cool to say but so hard to find the right moment to come along to unleash all the goodness.

The art of copywriting is one of the final chapters in Alison Baverstock.s The Naked Author. Assiduous readers will recall I blogged about the book here. Here.s Baverstock.s words of wisdom on copywriting:

A whole chapter on how to describe your work–is this really necessary?

It is crucial. There is no clearer predictor of a self-published book likely to disappoint than poor associated copy. The words with which you describe your work have a massive impact on the customer’s willingness to perceive value; whether they buy your work–and then hang on to it if they do.

Copywriting involves producing the text to describe your offering; it entices the recipient towards further involvement. In the case of a product or service this may mean purchase, either for themselves or on behalf of someone else; in the case of an idea, it might mean trying to secure agreement–or at least acknowledgement of an alternative point of view.

The process is a lot harder than it looks. You have to work out who is likely to be purchasing and/or using the product or service (not always the same person); establish the associated benefits that are most likely to appeal; consider how much argument to present (too much information can be as alienating as too little) but all the while support the consumer’s perception that it is their decision over whether or not to buy–most people hat to be ‘sold to’.

Meanwhile, the rest of the world is not inclined to see copywriting as an art. There is a general assumption that the briefer the copy you have to craft, the more speedily you will be able to produce it–and as we have all been to school, and learnt to write, how hard can that really be? But it is far more difficult to write short than long text, and effective copy needs extensive crafting, usually through a time-consuming process of getting your ideas down, allowing a meaningful theme to emerge, and then a long process of refining the message.

If I quote any more, I will run into copyright issues! It.s true that writing short is more difficult to write long. Do you remember how Pascal closed a letter to friend once? Something along the lines of, ‘I apologize for writing such a long letter, as I did not have time to make it shorter’. Writing short is an art. Seneca the Younger wrote short witty aphorisms, and he recommended anyone interested in writing short practise daily. People who Twitter (I.m just learning about this) might be practiced on the art of writing short: Twitter limits how many characters can be used in tweeting. So it forces someone who.s twitting to really think about the message in precise terms.

So, here.s my first attempt to write copy for Paying Melpomene’s Price:

The loss of a sense of value in a world where everything has become monetized has led to a reexamination of the tragic art form as a means of reclaiming human value. What if tragedy were a marketplace? What if it were like one of the great bourses in New York or Frankfurt, except anger and ambitions change hands instead of stock certificates? What is more, what if Melpomene’s price is not something to be paid in dollars and cents, but the terms of payment are all-too-human things such as faith, the milk of human kindness, or even the soul of a man.

This book is the meeting of Aristotle’s Poetics with Smith’s Wealth of Nations. It paints a picture of the hero as a gambler willing to lay down his life in gage for the great reward. It will help you conceptualize how the hero rediscovers human value by playing the high stakes game in the ludic theatre. Written for dramatists, theatregoers, and students of tragic art theory, there are detailed examples of how tragedy can be conceptualized not as a destructive medium, but as a celebration of the spiritual wealth which resides in each of us.

Written by a lifelong connoisseur and student of the theatrical arts, this comprehensive study breaks down tragedy into its constituent parts: the hero’s wager, the myth of the price you pay, and the role of the unexpected. They myth of the price you pay provides the philosophic underpinnings of tragedy: you get something for something, nothing for nothing, and sometimes nothing for something. In the hero’s wager is the dramatization of the myth of the price you pay. Finally, the role of the unexpected generates the thrill of theatre. In breaking down tragedy into its constituent parts, it builds them back up to argue that tragedy is the greatest show on earth.

I.d like to make is more exciting and shorter. It was a good exercise in expressing in a few words what the whole book is about though. Another things that goes hand in hand with copywriting is the shout line. Here.s three examples from Baverstock:

Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water (Jaws 2)

In space no one can hear you scream (Alien)

Love means never having to say you’re sorry (Love Story)

The shout line is the elevator pitch. I like the first two, but the last one eludes me. When you.re in love you.re never in error? Or did I miss something? The one from Alien hits you with the terror of the silent scream–that I can see loud and clear. And the shout line from Jaws 2 is effective as it reconnects the viewer with the thrill of watching the first Jaws. So here.s what I.m thinking for a shout line for Paying Melpomene’s Price:

You can’t be a hero if you got nothing to lose.

I hope its attention grabbing. The point I.m trying to get across is that tragedy is about the hero who pays a price. How much of a price he pays establishes the worth of his ambitions. So, by saying you can’t be a hero if you got nothing to lose, I.m trying to get someone.s attention by making the claim that a hero is a hero because he.s a betting man. Something like that. Heroes have been defined in a lot of ways: descended from the gods (Achilles), great exploits (Heracles), legendary king (Minos), and so on. By defining a hero as someone who has something to lose to me is a fresh approach. Undoubtedly not original, because nothing really is original, but it seems original enough that it can get people’s attention and also be an honest take on the essence of the work.

Let.s see how things develop. Lots of time still (famous last words!). Until next time, I.m Edwin Wong and I am putting my thoughts into words in this blog dedicated to Doing Melpomene’s Work.