The story about “Two Young Men” is sales and marketing legend. The most successful letter in sales and marketing history, written by freelancer Martin Conroy for the Wall St. Journal, it was first sent out in 1974 and mailed continuously for over 25 years, selling $2 billion worth of Wall St. Journal subscriptions.
The letter is a fantastic example of writing that sends readers down a “slippery slope”. Each sentence or paragraph pulls the reader to the next, making it hard to stop reading.
Call it reading inertia – once readers start, the momentum carries them forward.
Your goal as a writer is to ensure your first sentence encourages readers to start the second sentence; the second sentence pushes them to the third, and so on. The more they read, the more they’ll keep reading.
Slippery slope writing is a rare skill. But it’s easily learned.
Conroy’s letter is ‘slippery’ from the very beginning (just like this blog post), starting with a feel-good story of two young men who graduated together 25 years ago and are very happy with their lives.
Recently, these men returned to their college for their 25th reunion.
They were still very much alike. Both were happily married. Both had three children. And both, it turned out, had gone to work for the same Midwestern manufacturing company after graduation, and were still there.
Now, here’s the first slippery patch:
But there was a difference. One of the men was manager of a small department of that company. The other was its president.
Could this happen to me? readers would ask themselves. What can I do to avoid being the less successful person? They keep reading for answers.
Have you ever wondered, as I have, what makes this kind of difference in people’s lives?
Go on, then, tell me please …
It isn’t a native intelligence or talent or dedication. It isn’t that one person wants success and the other doesn’t.
The difference lies in what each person knows and how he or she makes use of that knowledge.
The letter continues and presents the Journal as the solution.
Readers love slippery slope writing, because reading it is rewarding – the writing answers burning questions; it completes unfinished thoughts; it creates and fills information gaps.
Most writing, mine included, could benefit from more slipperiness.
Often, we’re so wrapped up in what we’re trying to say we may as well be squirting glue on to the page…. bald facts with scant explanation of why the details matter; no intrigue or sense of what the reader stands to lose should they stop reading; total neglect of the only real question in the reader’s mind – what’s in this for me?
Many writers have discussed this concept. Sol Stein talks about how good writing should be like a series of small cliffs – each paragraph ending makes the reader want to peek over the edge to see what’s next.
Literary agent Donald Maass coined the term “micro-tension” to describe the small moments of tension on every page that keep readers engaged. It’s not about big plot points, but rather creating subtle uncertainty or curiosity in every scene or chunk of information.
A good children’s book brims with micro tensions. Writers know they’re dealing with the toughest of all audiences, likely to drop their book on the floor the moment the words fail to pique curiosity. (My childhood favourite is The Digging-est Dog – still on my bookshelf).
Business writing doesn’t offer the creative latitude of children’s story books or other fiction. But there’s still plenty of scope for slipperiness.
Take for example the following Economist article about Taiwan’s overpriced housing market. A dry subject, for sure, but the writer uses the real life story of Ice Jao to get the reader sliding down the slope.
Why Taiwanese youth complain of becoming “housing slaves”
Ever since Ice Jao, a 30-year-old, got married two years ago, her mother has been pestering her to buy a home. The jewellery seller pays $425 a month to rent a flat about the size of two parking spaces on the outskirts of Taipei, the capital of Taiwan. She shares it with her husband and two cats. Her parents think that “only a house you own can really be a home”, she says. But Ms Jao is reluctant to become a wu nu, or “housing slave”, she says. That is slang for young homebuyers who feel trapped by their expensive mortgages.
Taiwan’s youngsters are not exaggerating when they call homeownership a burden. House prices on the island are exorbitant. In Taipei, median house prices are 16 times the median income. That is a higher ratio than New York (9.8), London (14), or Seoul (13)……
I hope you slid this far.