Whose WORD IS IT ANYWAY?

The text of a direct response e-mail (not the subject line, where spam filters would kill it, dismember it and heave it into the Ganges River) suggests: Here is the detailed weekly listing of bargains. The unsalesmanlike thrust of this statement ignores an opportunity to transfer ownership. The very suggestion of transfer can help establish or convert a mind-set:

Here is your detailed weekly listing of bargains.

(A genuine certified wordsmith wouldn’t tumble down the communications ladder to purgatorial prosaics such as detailed and listing. More likely, the sales pitch would be: “Here’s your private register of bargains, for this week only.”)

So why doesn’t everybody just scrap “the” and “a” and “an” in all selling copy and simply switch to “your” in wholesale lots? Because timing is a factor, as any professional salesperson knows and implements. Opening with “your” can seem presumptuous and arrogant. The switch has to be a gradual and professional example of wordsmithy.

Obviously, that word gradual has a more leisurely connotation in a four-page direct mail letter or a full-page copy-heavy space ad than it does in a swift-to-grab e-mail. The letter might, in fact, start with our to establish singularity and a proprietary we’re-the-only-source posture, invisibly and seamlessly working its way through the to the Promised Land — your. In e-mail, all arguments are condensed. It’s not necessarily a different discipline; it’s an intensified discipline.

This gives us one fragment of an explanation why lifting direct mail in one piece and slapping it onto the Web isn’t always a profitable concept. E-mail caters to a mind-set that usually differs from the direct mail mind-set. The ancient, valuable cry “Get to the point!” has increased itself geometrically, demanding an early transference of perception-ownership from seller to sellee.

Get to Whose Point?

Did you note that exclamation: “Get to the point!”? Consider the difference had the wording been, “Get to your point.” The command borders on the insulting.

In many languages — not English — words such as body parts are commonly described with the as the lead-in, rather than my or your. Example: la tête instead of my head; les cheveux instead of my hair. American writers don’t face the penalty of non-personalized body parts, but too often we don’t know when to claim possession (my or our), leave it in neutral territory (the or a), or transfer it to our targets (your). Smart selling calls for transfer at just the right time, and without the transfer the reader or listener remains an observer, not a participant.

Smart writing also results from basic psychological knowledge that tells us when the transfer is ripe. Too early and we’re regarded as either dictatorial or assumptive. Too late and that reader or listener is long gone.

Tell ‘But’ to Butt Out

If it hasn’t occurred to you that we wordsmiths use the word but too much, let it occur to you now.

“But” has so many negative overtones it’s loaded with pejorative dynamite. Still, many creatives blithely use it as a synonym for and, a neutral link. Note this approach, intended to add cachet to the item it sells:

Designed for those with discriminating tastes, but individually crafted of solid (not laminated) woods….

A simple rule of force-communication: Don’t use but when you’re adding. Do use but when you’re withdrawing.

The Might of ‘Might’

Sometimes we irritate a prospect when we’re intending to supply comfort and solace. Here’s an example, from a loan company:

You want that car, but your credit probably will get turned down.

That sentence would work with a couple of added words:

You want that car, but you’re afraid your credit probably will get turned down.

The difference lies in placement of the reaction. The first seems to be a judgment by the writer; the second shifts the conclusion to the reader.

Eliminating probably helps rapport considerably, but it also can damage impact, and we don’t want that to happen.

An easier solution is substitution of might:

You want that car, but your credit might get turned down.

Where Are the Salesworthy Slogans?

You don’t have to be a geezer to remember slogans that worked: “What’ll you have? Pabst Blue Ribbon!”…“There’s a Ford in your future” …“How are you fixed for blades?”…and the still-in-action “Good to the last drop.”

How have the mighty fallen! Here, dominating a full front page of a Sunday FSI, is this lame slogan: “Innovative Solutions For Your Pet’s Unique Needs^™.” That word needs as a noun is a giveaway, a teller — creative paucity. Initial caps don’t help, either. The slogan is for Pedigree Snack Solutions^™, a puzzling name equally unworthy of the trademark symbol.

Am I being harsh? Certainly…because in today’s pitch-saturated marketplace, the ancient rule is more pertinent and more valid than ever before: Specifics outsell generalizations.

Probably these pet products are worthy; probably many dogs (all the products are dog-aimed, so “pet” may not be aptly chosen) salivate for them. But more probable is lost attention because of a nondescript slogan.

Contractions and Subtractions

If you want to emphasize negatives, don’t use contractions. Conviviality and informality are out of sync with negative connotations. So if you want to emphasize the negative you’d say, “I am not amused” rather than, “I’m not amused.” Note, please, the italicized words. You may not want the extra emphasis. It’s there for you, if you do.

The word amused itself can be an implement for making a negative suggestion. For example: “It’s amusing to consider that argument.” Structures such as this are high up the rhetorical scale…but isn’t that why marketers hire us?

One of the challenges attending the decision to use or avoid contractions is the effect you’re after. Note this sentence, from a direct response letter:

You may think I’m crazy or am about to make an offer too incredible to be believed.

Notice anything? The word am damages the mood. We need a parallel contraction:

You may think I’m crazy or I’m about to make an offer too incredible to be believed.

I’ll say it before you do: Every one of these tiny nuggets adds minuscule, fractional value. But words are our gold. Enough nuggets add up to riches for those who know how to mine them.

The ‘Proletariazation’ of Grammar

Has the word proletariazation ever existed? No matter. It does now, courtesy of the authoritative publication Direct.

While we may regret the decline of grammatical niceties such as whom and nor, we don’t mourn. Their gradual disappearance ties itself to a marketing truism of the Internet era: increasing informality. Contemporary communications mirror speech.

But for Pete’s sake don’t interpret this to condone its as a substitute for it is, nor (yeah, I use nor) insertion of apostrophes to form plurals.

Notice anything about the previous paragraph? Of course you did — the semi-word yeah. Its inclusion is a simple validation of 21st century communication: We write the way people talk. Exceptions are the deliberately upscale images we generate, but those are fewer and fewer. Purists, take heart: Decline and extinction aren’t parallels. Compare word use to the width of men’s neckties and you’ll have a loose idea of the karma-like grammatical swings. As proletariazation becomes standard, expect a slow swing back to formality in messages from marketers who recognize the benefit of individuality and trend-bucking.

Logical Litany

Every one of us has absorbed and regurgitated the primitive rules — imperatives outpull declaratives…lard selling copy with the infallible sales-word you…don’t just rhapsodize, tell your targets what you want them to do…don’t assume your knowledge of in-terms extends to outsiders.

All these have value. But we don’t settle for just value; we demand maximum value. And maximum value comes from realizing that words are our weapons, and we don’t want to fire even one blank.

Herschell Gordon Lewis, Direct’s “Curmudgeon- at-Large,” is the principal of Lewis Enterprises in Fort Lauderdale, FL, and a copywriter renowned as an authority on the use of words. This is one of an occasional group of articles on word use.