19 March 2022 | From the friendly caves of Pixie Hollow.
Once upon a time, not so long ago, a middle-aged woman stared out the window.
She was only middle-aged on the outside.
On the inside she was longing to be out under the spreading golden elm reading something heartfelt. Like a Judy Blume novel. Just, for her own age rather than her teenaged daughter.
'Dreaming again, I see,' muttered a colleague as he dropped a file on her desk. It landed with a thwack, and dislodged her from her reverie.
'Hm?' She looked up. Ignored the comment. Cast her eye over the file. Monthly analytics was scrawled down the side in a scratchy marker. 'Ohh that time again is it.'
'Yes. It is.' Her colleague curled an eyebrow up towards his manicured hair. 'Some attention on this would be good, Janette.'
He turned on his heel and left.
Janette watched him go.
Imagine if he split his pants, she thought. Pretentious Pauly, wouldn't he squeal.
Flipping over the cover of the file, Janette saw that Paul had left a memo on top flagging the shoddy performance of the company's emails.
She knew it was going to be there.
She had tried so damned hard to shift things.
Every single time, she'd gotten push-back from everyone else. And today it made her mad. Today, that prissy little bastard in his funky little shoes could take a flying leap. Hopefully into political ignominy.
It took Janette a second to decide what to do.
She saved a copy of the company's email calendar to her desktop. Working through it from top to bottom, she systematically overrode every single item.
Everywhere that there was a branded email, she changed it to a personal one.
Every item that had yet another sale, she changed to an element of a story.
Janette crafted a sequenced story in stages that spoke to the women who bought all of their makeup from them. Women like her. Women who all read Judy Blume when they were fourteen. Women who get sales and sales and sales, and no damned meaning.
Scheduling the emails to override the company's prearranged emails for the next thirty days, Janette ensured the first one went out immediately.
She then opened up her analytics dashboard and watched.
As the emails soared past their standard open rate, a smile lifted Janette's pudgy cheek. She began writing a memo of her own.
Time passed. Lunch came and went. Still Janette worked.
Paul walked past in his busy way several times during the morning. He noticed that she was sitting, working, focused.
He came over to see what she was doing.
Peering over Janette's shoulder, he noticed that the analytics dashboard was open on her second screen. He saw the numbers. His eyebrows hit his hairline.
Janette looked up at him.
'Good huh.'
Paul sniffed, a great intake of air. 'Wow,' was all he could muster.
'What changed?' he asked.
Janette smiled,
'Waiting for permission.'
xx Leticia "beg for forgiveness if you have to" Mooney
PS. Many marketers believe that storytelling is the way to people's hearts. What they don't understand is that every story, and every scene, has up to 15 components. It's a formula that never fails. So instead of banging on about 'storytelling' when you're just blowing smoke up people's skirts, understand the longing in your customers' hearts... and then craft something that really flies. Great CCX isn't devoid of story. Great CCX allows it.
Please let me know what I can do for you.
Leticia Mooney is a consultant with decades of experience writing with and for people like you. Her company Brutal Pixie casts the kind of spells your customers love. Its services are oracles (communication strategy, CCX, audits, investigations, quality assurance), metamorphoses (training, mentoring, coaching, wargaming), and your stories in magick hands (ghostwriting, content writing, editorial support). Leticia is also
the mother of an intelligent, engaging, and curious boy, who is named after a character created by J.R.R Tolkien.
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