Becoming a copywriter:

Twelve years before publishing this book, I walked into an office in a high-rise in downtown Chicago. The man behind the desk was wearing a suit. So was I. We shook hands.

“Thanks for coming in,” he said.

“Of course,” I said. “Thank you.”

We sat down, and I produced my resume. The man took it and studied the paper, pursing his lips and nodding. I waited quietly.

“You majored in English—” he put the paper down and looked up at me. “So did I.” We talked about literature and writing for a while. Then he asked me a question about his business. “Do you know how we make money here?” 

“Your website is a job marketplace,” I said. “Employers pay you to advertise their open positions.”

He nodded. “And do you know why we hire copywriters?”

I took a beat. “Because the ads they submit could be better?” I said. 

“Because the ads they submit are horrible,” he winced. “They’re bland and redundant and just—” he winced again, “just horrible.” He had some coffee and put the cup down with a thud. “It’s a big problem.”

He told me job seekers respond well to engaging ads. “They want to visualize themselves in the role.” He closed one eye and finger framed, like a director. “They want to feel excited about doing the work.” 

I nodded. 

“The more excited they feel, the more likely they are to apply, which is how we make money.” He slurped some coffee. “So this is why we hire copywriters.”

He told me it’s an entry-level contract position, paid hourly. There’s no insurance or PTO, but I get to write all day (and every other Friday, the team orders pizza for lunch). He told me there’s a performance review every three months, and if my ads are converting enough applicants, I’ll get a contract extension.

He offered me the job right there in his office. I had no copywriting experience whatsoever. “You’re a writer,” he said. “Copy isn’t literature, but you’ll pick it up quickly. I’ve faith.”

I was 23 years old and badly wanted to write for a living. I wanted it more than medical insurance or paid time off or job security. I stood up and shook his hand. “Thank you.” I smiled. “I accept.” 

That night, I typed “becoming a copywriter” into Google.

Twelve years later, my newsletter is among the most-read copywriting resources on the internet, endorsed and recommended by the same marketing and advertising leaders who helped build this industry. 

How did this happen? I’ll tell you exactly: 

First, I began obsessively studying the craft.

I read books and articles. I watched interviews, seminars, and presentations. I transcribed and analyzed sales letters and print ads by renowned copywriters, the shoulders we stand on: Eugene Schwartz, Joe Sugarman, Drayton Bird, David Ogilvy, Rory Sutherland, Brian Clark, Phyllis Robinson, John Carlton, Gary Bencivenga, Clayton Makepeace, Kim Krause Schwalm, Claude Hopkins, Bill Bernbach, David Abbott, David Deutsch, Ben Settle, George Lois, Sean D’Souza, Austin Kleon, Ken McCarthy, Bob Bly, Joanna Wiebe, and many others. 

I also drew inspiration and creative wisdom from artists, actors, musicians, comedians, playwrights, poets and novelists, movies and TV shows. 

I consumed a lot.

Then, I wrote about what I learned.

When I came across an insight—a technique or principle that helped me write better or think more clearly—I challenged myself to explain it in writing. If I can do this, I thought, it will prove I understand the concept and am ready to use it in my own ads. I did this in earnest for some time. Years passed. 

Eventually, I found new work as a copywriter, this time at an agency. But I never shared my “personal” writing. In fact, I kept it hidden, stowed away in a running Word document I titled “micro-lessons.” 

I often wrote at my desk during lunch. And because I had a literary background, I framed many lessons with stories, using characters and dialogue. I was writing vignettes. 

“Is that a book?”

My colleague was standing behind me, looking at my screen, a puzzled expression on her face. “What is that?” she said. 

I told her what it was. 

“Can I read it?” she said. 

“You want to read this?” I said.

“I’m curious,” she said. 

It was Friday afternoon. I shrugged and sent her the document. On Monday morning I saw her in the office kitchenette. She was leaning against the counter, looking at her phone, waiting for the coffee maker to beep. 

She smiled when I walked in. “I read your micro-lessons,” she said. 

“Oh?” I felt embarrassed. 

“They’re very good,” she said. “Start a blog already!”

I shrugged, smiled back, and said thank you. Her feedback surprised me. It felt good. So I shared my writing with others. More goodness, more encouragement. Okay, I thought.

I bought the VeryGoodCopy.com domain. 

Eventually, the blog became a newsletter, which grew very slowly for a while—and then very, very fast. Suddenly, my work was being read and shared. Suddenly, it had an audience. 

Suddenly, I was becoming a copywriter in public. 

This book is the culmination of my self-education so far—my best micro-lessons on how to think and write in this line of work. 

Enjoy!

EDDIE SHLEYNER | Chicago

I have read goodness knows how many books about copy and even written some.

But I was flabbergasted by VeryGoodCopy. Its style is unlike anything I have come across. And the book is the most comprehensive I can recall. It gives you more sound, simple advice per page than anything I have read. Advice you can put to work immediately, based not on theory but on practice.

It will save you many hours of mistakes and misery—and accelerate your drive to success to an extraordinary degree.

Its author, Eddie Shleyner, shows you how to write, how not to write, how to think—and how not to think.

Like many, if not most, successful copywriters, Eddie was a salesperson first. (David Ogilvy and many others started by selling.)

But above all, Eddie has gone to immense pains. As far as I can tell, he has overlooked nothing that matters. And from his studies, he has mined hundreds of gems: practical but pithy advice about everything—from what constitutes good design to what headlines work best to how to write more naturally.

He reveals the secrets of the best copywriters—people like Claude Hopkins, Eugene Schwartz, and Joe Sugarman. He tells you how to spot winning ideas. What you should know about research, photographs, branding, when to steal ideas, and even whether smoking weed will make you more creative. He appreciates the shortcomings of originality and gives you swipe files—ideas to steal or adapt.

To sum up, this book is extraordinarily helpful, informative, clear, and concise.

He gives you everything you need to know about the difference between failure and success in copywriting.

George Bernard Shaw said, "All progress depends upon the unreasonable man." Eddie Shleyner—when it comes to copywriting—is beyond unreasonable. He's fanatical.

Dig in. I warrant you will profit from it.