Wassup, February Face!*
I know, I know... spicy subject line. Let's dive in!
Author Sarah MacLean shares how to write a good sex scene:
Writing about sex is a challenge for the same reason sex is a challenge. Because it's complicated. Because it doesn't always make sense and it isn't always perfect and it's sometimes awful and it's sometimes hilarious.
But underneath all the clever wordplay, it's about hope. Hope that someone will see us, and accept us, and perhaps—after all that—choose us. It's the barest we will ever be. The barest a character will ever be. That's why it's difficult.
—NY Times Letters section
And now: Re-read Sarah's advice. Every time you see the word "sex," substitute in "B2B marketing."
As in: It's a
challenge.... It's complicated.... It doesn't always make sense.... It's sometimes awful (and sometimes hilarious).... But at its core... it's about hope that someone will see us, accept us, choose us.
Mmmm. See what I mean? Funny, right?
I'd add one thing that Sarah didn't mention but which is equally true: Sex scenes and B2B marketing both need a LOT of emotion.
It's not that the feeling part is just a bonus. We NEED feeling if we want the ideas to come alive. Without emotion, everything is just... limp. (lol)
How do we tackle that challenge? How do we bring emotion into technical products and services? Make them less... boring? A little spicier?
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One root cause of so much bad sex writing is a cognitive bias called the Curse of Knowledge: Someone who has specialized knowledge assumes others also have that knowledge. So we have difficulty imagining what an experience is actually like for someone else.
In marketing, that other person is our
customer—who might not know what we know. Who might not be as into us as we are into them.
That's in part why jargon, buzzwords, and thick, dense, un-fun-to-read writing are so rampant in business.
And that's in part why the Curse of Knowledge is doubly a curse in marketing, because often writers have to translate subject-matter-expert-speak.
It's easier to cut and paste what those smart
subject-matter people said... than it is to risk translating it into something more accessible and emotive. What if we get it wrong?
Let's fix this problem together!
Here are 3 antidotes to break the spell of the Curse of Knowledge in B2B marketing, with a goal of creating emotional, enormously relevant content that people love.
Antidote 1: Tell a story. Paint a scene. Write your readers directly into your story. Make sure they see and feel themselves. Give voice to their pain,
aspiration, their whims.
Ask yourself: What are they feeling right now? Did I capture it effectively? More on that here and here.
Antidote 2: Add back-up singers: a few words of explanation for words, technical phrases, jargon, acronyms... using language or metaphors the reader immediately understands.
This approach allows you to still use crucial words or phrases without dumbing the whole thing down.
How: Back-up singers make any vocalist stronger, more nuanced, more powerful. So too these few extra, supporting words; they give a technical word or jargon context—making it stronger, helping readers get it.
Here's an example of what I mean from Mel Magazine, in a story on why guide dogs sometimes are rejected from training programs.
Ricki was released in
the final phase of guide-dog training for having hackles, or a sharkfin-like fur on the ridge of her back that sticks up and can be seen as a sign of aggression.
Antidote 3: Be your reader's wingperson.
Your job as a writer is to be a wingperson for your reader. Always.
So translate that cursed, non-emotive language with a simple, direct approach that elevates the reader's knowledge—without making them feel like nincompoops. "You're so smart," your content whispers to
readers.
Here's a great one from UK-based eyeglass retailer Cubitts. In a recent email, the company introduces two new frames in its Featherweight line:
Featherweight. Our series of impossibly light spectacle frames. Now with two, new additions:
Wren, an exceptionally light butterfly shape, with square lenses, and saddle bridge. Without lenses, Wren weighs just 8 grams, the same as its avian namesake. And with lenses, Wren weighs just 2 wrens, double the weight of a bird in a hand.
And Wrotham, an exceptionally light pilot shape, with teardrop lenses and a keyhole bridge. Wrotham weighs the same as a box of matches, three sheets of A4 paper, or a standard sized twig.
The selling feature here is how light the frames are on your face. ("Impossibly light.") The imagery is fantastic: How light? Like having a small, delicately-boned bird perched on your nose.
And Cubitts pre-emptively answers the question any serious eyeglass-wearer would have: "Yeah but what about with lenses?"
Ah! Cubitts says. Two wrens.
8 grams means nothing. You can't picture it. You can't really feel it on your face. What weighs as much as 8 grams...? I have no idea.
But a small bird? Yes, yes. I can imagine that.
Can you? I also love the "little twig" tie in... because bird, twig. Gorgeous.
* * *
Use story.
Use emotion.
Use wordplay, too.
But always, always, always... offer hope.
And happy Valentine's weekend, btw. 🙂
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*H/T to Scott Monty for the inspo for that greeting
