You: The visionary with penthouse suite ideas
Me: The copywriter who straps those ideas to a pink, sparkly financial lifeboat
Together: We're floating in 84°F tropical waters, sipping virgin piña coladas while our stripe notifications pop off and our calendars book out
There's a devastating false narrative circulating that says websites should be professional and social media is where you can let loose...
I'd like to know who spread that rumor so I can sit them down and yell at them in lowercase.
Because if your copy doesn't MATCH your big ass social media personality, your customers will question which version of you they're buying.
And that's not good.
I like to think of myself as a word scientist, but my daughter prefers to call me 'Mommy.'
Sometimes she calls me by my government name (Cydney), which is probably my karmic punishment for calling my parents Freddy and Shannon instead of Mom and Dad.
You can call me whatever you'd like, though. I'm not too picky about names.
Some things I am picky about are words, the temperature of warm drinks and standing on the left side of photographs.
But most of all, I have a real tough time stomaching brands that sound like replicas of AI-bots instead of humans.
Or worse, watered-down versions of themselves.
Brands built from the SOUL.
Brands that take up space.
Brands owned by changemakers who refuse to reduce their ooey gooey excellence to AI-generated stale garbage.
Brands that make people think "Damn...she's fresh AF."
(^that's you)
Professional is out. Messy humans are in. But unfortunately, if you need to make sales, being human alone isn't quite enough to get the job done...
That's why The Copy Planet exists.
To balance your bad-assery with strategies to create words that feel like you, sound like you, and make you money, too.
Do I make money writing words? Yes. And thankfully, it keeps the lights on in this joint. But that's not WHY I keep showing up.
You see, I'm here because I'm addicted to watching people go from feeling stressed out and somewhat discouraged to over-the-moon, tears-of-joy happy because they finally feel like their message reflects their effort.
And that my friend, is some priceless shit.
After getting laid off from a startup and losing my housing all in the same month, I very gracefully entered my midlife crisis.
SIKEEEEEEEEE.
There was nothing graceful about it.
I cried for weeks, complained to anyone who would listen and shamefully moved back into my mom's house at 31 years old.
Torn between going back to school and finding another corporate job that made my eyes bleed, I did what any insane person would do:
Bought a one-way ticket to Asia, taught myself how to build a website and launched a travel blog.
Which, I didn't end up enjoying, by the way.
But that poorly designed blog and one well-written article about the difference between being alone and being lonely opened the door to my very first paid writing gig.
(Shoutout to Emily Kho!)
I remember thinking to myself,
"I can't believe this is real life. I'm getting paid to do what I love most while chilling beachside in a bungalow in Indonesia. How the hell did I not discover this sooner?"
While most of my academic studies revolved around cognitive-behavioral neuroscience, I spent my free time lingering at the back of my English teacher's class throughout college, taking various creative writing courses and compiling poetry under a secret pen name (still do, btw).
So, finding a profession that combined my two favorite pastimes (researching human behavior and writing) felt like I won the freakin' lottery.
Life has a funny way of working things out when we let go of control...
To the life insurance company I wasted 3 years with, and to my landlord, Alan, who decided to sell the house I was living in that same month: thank you. I wouldn't be here without you.
I know a thing or two about copywriting and psychology, but I bet you could run circles around me in your niche. Working together isn't a big booty shakin', muscle flexin' competition. It's a collaborative effort between two (maybe more) pretty smart, super cool peeps.
There's nothing that irks me more than business owners who sell to people who don't need their services. I'm in the business of helping people, not ripping them off. Which means I'm happy to say no if we're not a good fit and more than pleased to refer you out to another provider.
I may have a degree in behavioral science, but one thing I'm NEVER going to do is use that to manipulate your people. Our job is to tap into your audience's REAL belief systems, not to manufacture fake pain points to make a sale.
You're sick to your stomach over AI bro-bot energy and websites that give off suburban production home vibes.
You're ready to formulate some 1-of-1 messaging that makes your f*ck yes customers feel like you broke into their house, stole their diary and built an entire business around their needs.
You're a superfan of neuroscience and sales psychology, but anti "manipulate my customers to make a quick few bucks."