The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake

This week’s recommendation comes from a book I read forever ago, about a woman who can taste the way a person was feeling when they prepared a certain food. Her mother, for instance (and I don’t think this is a spoiler because it’s in the title) was very sad when she made her famous lemon cake, and it comes through in the flavor:

The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake, by Aimee Bender

Aside from being a beautiful little story about the connection between food and emotions, and an homage to anyone who sees cooking as a form of self-expression, it’s also a pretty great metaphor for any creative pursuit, including and especially writing.

In most writing mediums, your initial intentions and feelings are only part of the equation. The work is open to interpretation, and that dissonance, that gap, is what makes it art. I discussed this in a different Coffee Break.

But when you’re writing about your work (aka copywriting), there needs to be less of a gap. This is writing that has a very clear intended purpose, and for that reason it needs to be very close to the reader’s mental, emotional, and psychological state.

And that means, among other interesting things that we’ll talk about in future missives, that your reader will pick up on how you were feeling when you wrote what you wrote.

If you’re sitting down to write an email, and you’re thinking, My numbers suck and why won’t anyone buy this offer and please please please SOMEONE click this goddamn link and why doesn’t anything seem to work and fuuuuuucckk I still have three more emails to write after this one….

Whatever you publish from that place is going to taste *ever so slightly* of desperation.

It’s not like your reader will pick up on it exactly—they may not even be able to articulate it—but the writing will feel kinda… blah. Less electric, less inspiring. A little bit dead inside.

On the other hand, last week, I had a coworking call with a friend, and she showed up practically bouncing out of her skin.

“I NEED A GUT CHECK ON THIS NEW OFFER BUT ALSO I’M GOING TO SEND IT OUT NO MATTER WHAT YOU SAY,” she said.

I won’t spoil it here, but every. single. word. on this Google Doc is a fire-breathing dragon. My friend is onto something, and this excitement is palpable when you read it.

It almost doesn’t matter what the words actually say. The energy pulsing off this page makes you want to be a part of whatever she’s cooking up.

And this is the uncomfortable but also liberating truth about how to write Yes! Yes! Yes! copy, even if you’re “not a copywriter,” even if writing your own sales pages, website copy, and marketing emails makes you want to throw up a little bit—

Being excited about what you’re writing is WAY more important than being a “good” writer.

I’m a good writer, but this is the first time in my career that I’ve been consistently writing and sending emails, posting on Instagram, and pitching myself as a podcast guest. I could never keep up with all of that before, partly because my heart wasn’t in it.

Now, I’m finally pumped about what I’m doing. I want to share it.

If you’re feeling uninspired, unmotivated, buried under the mountain of words you feel like you “have” to write… it might be time to reevaluate what it is you’re writing about.

Do you need to rethink your offer(s)?
Refresh your messaging?
Reevaluate who you like to work with and how to talk to them?

Maybe you do! Or maybe you’re just burned out. :)

The point is to look for deeper, better answers than just, “I suck.”

Because you don’t.

See you next time!

-Sam

Previous
Previous

Pumpkin Spice Permanent Wave Grunge (or, word salad pt. 1)

Next
Next

You be Bob Dylan, I'll be. . .