Naughty Lola

I want you to go right this minute to a blog post by Sunil Shibad, copywriting correspondent in Mumbai. He offers much more detail and plenty of samples from a new book of the same name – a compilation of the best lonely hearts ads from “The London Review of Books” – by David Rose.

The basis of the title: “They call me Naughty Lola. Run-of-the-mill beardy physicist (M, 46).”

Shibad really picks up on the weird and the witty and if that’s not enough, you can also a story on the NPR website. Read all about the ads and consider the people behind them.

What’s telling, from my POV, is that such messages from the heart (or from the mind) are often better and more freely expressed than ad messages. “Employed in publishing? Me too. Stay the hell away.” Messages – headlines – we create for clients are far more constrained than hopeful or forthright blurbs from people who will, as long as they wish it, remain anonymous. “Romance is dead. So is my mother. Man, 42, inherited wealth.” Each one is self-marketing and lead generation rolled into a single appeal.

Reading these personals reminds me that good copywriters ought to be learning from life – not from textbooks. What will attract readers, listeners or viewers? The human condition…and if they’re witty or wry, so much the better.

Thanks, Sunil, for a great intro to a terrific writer’s manual.

Lead Generation

So many clients ask about lead generation – have for years. This story confirms that Word-of-Mouth can help you find qualified prospects.

“Bless me Father, for I have sinned. I have been with a loose girl.”

The priest asks, “Is that you, little Johnny Parisi?”

“Yes, Father, it is.”

“And who was the girl you were with?” Johnny says, “I can't tell you, Father, I don't want to ruin her reputation.”

“Well, Johnny, I'm sure to find out her name sooner or later, so you may as well tell me now. Was it Tina Minetti?”

“I cannot say Father,” says Johnny.

“Was it Teresa Volpe?”

“I'll never tell.”

“Was it Nina Capelli?”

“I'm sorry Father, but I cannot name her.”

“Was it Cathy Piriano?” Johnny answers firmly, “My lips are sealed.”

“Was it Rosa Di Angelo, then?”

“Please, Father, I cannot tell you.”

The priest sighs in frustration. “You're very tight lipped, Johnny Parisi, and I admire that. But you’ve sinned and have to atone. You cannot be an altar boy now for four months. Now you go and behave yourself.”

Johnny walks back to his pew and his friend Nino slides over and whispers, “What'd you get?”

“Four months vacation and five good leads.”

Thanks for this “Italian Boy’s Confession” to Leigh Lerner from Montreal. And a great weekend to you all.