But you’re not where you were before.
This time, you find yourself standing at the top of a cliff.
In front of you, at the edge of the cliff, is a sign that says:
“The Sea of Sameness”
You step forward and peer over the edge of the cliff … and gasp.
A few dozen feet below you is a HUGE body of water.
It stretches further than the eye can see.
You assume this is the ‘Sea of Sameness’ …
… but it’s covered in fog, so you can’t see it clearly.
Yet if you squint, you almost swear you can see … movement through the fog?
You lean forward to get a good look, when you hear a voice from behind you:
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
You spin around, startled.
It’s … Daniel Throssell again.
I puff out my chest … and boom: “The Sea of Sameness!”
(Sensing a monologue, you wince a little, but you listen anyway. You don’t really know how else to get home without me, after all.)
“The Sea of Sameness,” I repeat. “That dreaded ocean where many copywriters before you have drowned. The same old lists of features and benefits. Boring story templates. Case study emails. Promises of “copy that converts”. And many other things which curse those wretched souls to a life of mediocrity.”
I draw a deep breath and continue.
“You don’t realise how close YOU were to falling in, either. Most copywriters spend their life in that sea. But thankfully, if you follow my advice, you can avoid falling into the Sea of Sameness. And that’s actually what the email I’m about to send you is about.”
I tap my pocket for my phone …
… and frown.
“Hmmm … I swear I had my phone here. Oh well, I can send you the email from my Apple Watch.”
I tap the screen of my Apple Watch.
It … doesn’t respond.
I curse under my breath and tap it harder.
It … doesn’t respond.
I take off the watch and give it a whack.
It … doesn’t respond.
“GAAAHHHH!” I shriek, flinging the watch away in frustration. “I’ll show you—”
I stop, and my eyes go wide … as I realise that I’ve thrown the watch straight at you.
The broken Apple Watch sails right at your forehead, and …
WHACK!
Ever-so-gently bumps you.
Which wouldn’t normally be a problem …
Since normally, you’re not standing precariously on the edge of a cliff over the Sea of Sameness.
Which you actually are at this moment.
Oops.
Losing your balance, you tumble …
… and plunge into the ocean below.
“AAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHH!” you scream, helplessly flailing as you fall through the fog … and lose sight of me.
SPLASH!
You land in the misty, murky Sea of Sameness.
And instantly … you realise the horror of where you are.
Beside you, the disembodied spirits of copywriters float by, uttering horrible moans of sameness.
“Want Copy that Converts? Click Heeeeeeeere!”
“Here’s what the ‘gurus’ won’t tell yoooooooou …”
“I help business owners with X problem achieve Y result without Z unpleasant thing …”
You almost can’t bear to listen. It’s too awful.
And yet …
It’s alluring.
You start to feel the pull of the Sea of Sameness on your own copywriting.
“This isn’t so bad,” you begin to think. “It almost all reminds me of How a 46-Year-Old Mom from Virginia’s Failing Marriage Led Her To Discover The Shocking 3-Second Water Hack That Banishes Belly Fat … wait, what?!? What am I saying?!?”
(“It’s an RMBC template … go with the floooooow …” calls out a disembodied copywriter-spirit from the distance.)
Suddenly, you realise …
You’re doomed.
You’re never going to find a way out of this, unless I somehow manage to send you an email to get you out of it.
But … you can’t see or hear me up through the fog.
(Well, story-me. You can hear narrator-me just fine. That’s the way these things work.)
It’s hopeless.
You give up struggling …
Close your eyes …
And begin to sink.
Then suddenly …
…
…
…
…
… you just keep sinking.
Until you are absorbed by the Sea of Sameness, and become just one of the million other copywriters out there who sound the same.
THE END
… what?
You seem unsatisfied.
You were expecting something to happen to save you, right?
Well, we were starting to have a few of those stories where you miraculously get saved at the last moment … don’t want to write predictable copy now, do we?
Besides, this is actually the fate of 99% of copywriters out there who take most of the training currently on the market.
All the teachers today are just so boring.
If only there were someone out there you could learn from who was … different.
Someone doing something fresh with copywriting.
Someone who was fun.
Someone who had a welcome series that you were clicking along with and reading when you should be doing other things.
I dunno …
Can YOU think of anyone like that?
…
…
… you’re not replying.
Oh!
Right.
You’re still bobbing down in that Sea of Sameness.
Here, I’ll conveniently narrate you a helicopter to pick you up.
Thwap! Thwap! Thwap!
(Above you, the sound of a helicopter’s rotor grows steadily louder … till it’s right above you. A rope drops down, and you grab on as the chopper pulls you out of the sea, and — oof! — dumps you back on the cliff next to me, dripping wet.)
“Welcome back,” I grin.
(You just scowl.)
Anyway, if you’re starting to get the feeling that you want to learn from me … I have good news and bad news:
The good news is I have a coaching program called Inbox Detonator.
The bad news is … it’s expensive, and I almost NEVER let new students in.
That isn’t a gimmick to make you want to join, though.
I’m serious about this …
So serious that I’m not even going to give you a link to the sales page for Inbox Detonator.
If and when I open my coaching back up, I’ll announce that in my live daily email list (not this Parallel Welcome Sequence).
But what I will give you right now is …
A link to my Inbox Detonator Bunker instead.
This is where you can ‘spy’ on the training I give my other students … for a tiny fraction of what they pay to get it.
If you want to learn to write copy like me — and avoid falling back down into that Sea of Sameness — this might just be your best bet.
But I’ll leave the further selling for that to the sales page. This page is getting FAR too long for a parallel linker webpage, and we should get back to the emails soon.
So, speaking of avoiding the Sea of Sameness …
I have just sent to your real-world inbox an email about Apple’s Secret C.R.A.P. Department.
If you remember, I promised to show you how to use a broken Apple Watch for an email idea in a way that is totally non-copywriting-hamstery.
That’s waiting for you in your inbox …
… but first, go check out the Inbox Detonator Bunker, if you’re interested.