“I love sounding boring,”
said literally no one. EVER.
Except 97.68 percent of the copy out there is white bread – hold the mayo, hold the cheese, and, for the love of dryness, don’t let any lettuce or tomato near that crustless sandwich.
Look, we both know you’re not boring.
All the other adult kickballers live in fear of your backdoor slider – and you’ve got custom shorts with your nickname stamped across the ass to intimidate ‘em even more. You read every book in the To All The Boys I Loved series before it became cool and everyone else watched it on Netflix. You’ve got all the right moves if the latest YouTube of your interpretative dance to Mad World while dressed as Frank is any indication, and you are most certainly Team Rachel.
But you're afraid:
Academic and corporate writing have ruined your brain (this is your brain on corporate writing…) and left you incapable of putting together anything interesting.
Being funny is wildly inappropriate for your brand and you’ll offend people (ball joke, anyone?!).
People will misunderstand you, your copy will be off-message, and you’ll weaken your brand values.
No one’s going to think you’re funny…or cute…or clever.
You’ll be taken less seriously.
👆🏻👆🏻👆🏻 That one right there really socks ya in the gullet, amirite?
And right now…you feel meh
when you read your copy.
You feel uninspired and, holy fuck, how the hell are you supposed to inspire your peeps when YOU can’t even muster the energy to get enthused about what you’ve written? You’re pretty sure you don’t have a funny bone, and you certainly don’t have a personality (no one would ever refer to you as “a character”). And, well, not to sound too uptight, but you’ve got a fancy-yoga-pants degree, and writing in emojis (🤓🤑🤬) and all caps is BENEATH YOU.
Yet everything you write feels forced, and you feel more lost than Hansel and Gretel without their beloved breadcrumbs. (Do you think they were gluten free? Or rye? I bet they were pumpernickel.) You’re craving personality, originality, and spice, but you don’t know how to balance being a serious business owner and being funny.
So what do you do?
You throw up some yawn fest that sounds like any Suzy Snores-a-Lot could have written it and set a new Guinness World Record for Most Boring Copy of All Time. Congratulations. I’ve got a six-sizes-too-big, hand-knit, Big-Bird-yellow cardigan with flower buttons and a lifetime of ordering a #17, a #5…no, a #7, a #4 without the garlic sauce, two orders of #26, oh and a #8, wait…two #8s every Friday night.
You’ve got a lot of excuses why you’re not letting loose and having a bit of fun with your copy. Let’s tick ‘em off, shall we?
Your English professor will roll over in her grave and probably come back to haunt you so every time you try to make a joke your delete key mysteriously gets stuck and erases every word. (She remembers that one time you wrote an essay analyzing The One With the Holiday Armadillo and was not impressed with your findings.)
Your inner grammar police will deafen you with their sirens and throw you in solitary. How dare you stray from being linguistically proper? Who do you think you are?!?
Your business is not funny. Seriously. There’s no amount of personality and spice and everything not-so-nice that’s going to make project management a giggle gala.
You’re pretty sure it doesn’t matter to your clients if you’re even the slightest bit amusing – they’re not hiring you to do a little song and dance number, right?
Listen up: You don't have to be boring.
(And just because your business isn’t traditionally titillating doesn’t mean it’s doomed to a lifetime of rote, standard, prescribed, fill in the fuckin’ blank copy.)
You CAN sprinkle personality in and balance being funny with being a damn serious business owner that *snap* delivers without bombing like a standup comedian making “meat is murder” jokes at the priciest steakhouse in the tri-state area.
And – hey, good news! – it doesn’t have to feel forced or like you’re trying too hard. It doesn’t require you to study the principles of comedy (the ha-guffaw-aw-ha, ha formula, according to King of the Hill), read back issues of MAD, or sacrifice an ounce of credibility.
Introducing: Spice Rack
Punch up your copy and make it spicy AF 🌶 in 48 hours or less even if you feel lost, don’t think you’re funny, and feel like it’s impossible for you to learn how to write with personality, thanks to your background in law, accounting, or some other vanilla job
You’ll be the proud recipient of my Spice Rack (now that I’m thinking about it that it skews a little naughty, no? sigh) service so that you get the feedback you need to bring your voice AND value to a seemingly saturated market (‘cuz, let’s be honest, everyone’s got a business or a side hustle these days) so you have the cojones to show up as YOU (13-day-old sweatpants, perpetually-messy-bunned hair, and the most ridiculous giggle that borders on obnoxious and all) and attract Dreamy McDreamboat clients (like freakin’ fruit flies to your just-ripe-enough-for-bread bananas).
Because – #truthbomb – your services don't sell...YOU SELL.
Your personality, your stories, your ability to connect with your clients is what’s going to have them busting down your internet doors.
I’ll keep you in line and make sure you’re not being too inappropriate. *(HAND CHECK!)*
Here’s what you get: 🙌🏻
A customized review that targets your biggest trouble spots. Hate your headline? Not sold on your CTA? It’s like extra lovin’ for where you’re strugglin’, McLovin’.
An in-depth review of your email, blog post, home page, sales page, about page, landing page…gimme your words, and I’ll give you specific (some might say gnat’s ass) solutions and changes that will make your copy SPICER right now (people allergic to cayenne might wanna take a step back)
A sweet narrated video so you get a clear explanation WHY I’m pushing for what might seem like an off-the-wall suggestion and the impact it will have on your copy (plus…isn’t it always better to put a face to a name?!)
A 30-minute chat to discuss your recommendations and answer any lingering Qs you’ve got bouncing around in the ol’ noggin
Here's what happens after you click that “Hell Yeah! Let’s Do This!” button.
Make your payment and fill out the quick and easy form.
Keep your eyes peeled for a confirmation email from me.
Anxiously await your copy review (within 48 biz hours).
Make the tweaks, unleash your unique brand of spice (like Everything But the Bagel only better, even though I’ve never had it), and balance that professionalism with some lightheartedness.
Got a question? 🙋🏻♀️
+ What if I hate it? Do you offer refunds?
I mean, I’m doubtful you’ll hate it because I’m totally invested in punching up your copy with some personality. And my suggestions aren’t law. Like, you won’t get struck by lightning if you don’t rephrase that one sentence. But if there’s something you’re not exactly ecstatic about, we can talk it out. I’m not too cool to offer you a refund if you really truly are dissatisfied.
+ How long does the process take? I need to finish this copy like yesterday.
From the time you click “Hell Yeah! Let’s Do This” till you get your feedback, the turnaround time is 48 business hours max. If there’s any extenuating circumstances (you know, vacay or weekends), I’ll let you know upfront.
+ Do you copy edit, too? My grammar is freakin’ awful and, well, autocorrect has embarrassed me more than once.
This is sort of an add-on service because I’m kind of an eagle eye and I fine-tooth comb stuff. If this is something you’re interested in, drop me a note, and we’ll work out a deal. Wink, wink. (Oh, there's an emoji for that... 😉)
+ And...why exactly should I trust you?
You're a tough cookie, and I think you're just delicious. 😘 Also, I'm a delicous, tough cookie just like you. You see, I come from an academic (English lit major – you wanna read my thesis?!) and corporate background (engineering – you wanna read some proposals?!) so I absolutely understand feeling like institutionalization killed your creativity. But I have long aspired to write a novel, and I used to write quite creatively. (I started writing poetry when I was just a little lass. I wrote short stories. One was about a skunk who wanted to find the perfect flower to bestow upon his stinky skunk girlfriend. I took creative writing in high school and wrote weird stories, the plots of which we won’t discuss… And I wrote a very metaphorical poem about a foam heart a couple months ago. Oh, and there was that limerick a few months before that and some recent food poetry on IG…) I felt like corporate sucked every last ounce of that creativity out of me, and it took a LONG time to get it back. And now...all that I-take-myself-so-seriously copy out there makes my ten-sizes-too-small heart grow even smaller every time I read it. I am, frankly, tired of everyone and everything being so serious all the time. I just wanna make the world laugh. (I’m totally singing this to the tune of Price Tag, a cappella style a la Pitch Perfect.) Please, come to the other side with me!
+ What if I want more than one review?!?
Oh, smart, smart smart. This girl is smart! (That's from King of the Hill, too, just FYI.) If you already know you want more than one review, I got you, chou-chou. Book a time to chat here, and we'll nail down the deets.
+ I have another question that’s not listed here.
I got you! Shoot your Q over to firstname.lastname@example.org and I’ll get an A back to you ASAP.