The Difference Between $2-Plonk From a Carton, and a Fine Bottle of Rioja

Every now and then I get challenged on the prices I put on my products.

Interestingly, I never hear complaints from readers, prospects or customers (the people for whom I actually make my things) – it’s nearly always a friend in real life who’ll try to persuade me that things should be more accessible.

Now, I could do that, it’s not an unreasonable point of view.

I could offer discounts, or special offers, or indeed use a cheaper pricing model.

But here’s the problem with that.

People for whom price is a deal breaker are not shopping for quality – they’re looking for a bargain.

Which is fine – there are all kinds of valid reasons to save money.

For example, if I go on a trip and forget my headset but I have a podcast on my phone that I want to listen to while on the road, I stop at one of those Chinese-owned general stores we have here, and I buy a 1-Euro headset.

I know it’ll break before I get home, but that’s fine – I’m buying a disposable thing and it’ll last for as long as I need it. Probably.

However, if  I want to by headphones that’ll make my music sound like Adele is whispering sweet nothings straight into my ear, it’s different: Then I go to an audio store, try several, and will probably shell out $100 or whatever. Because at that moment, I’m looking for something really really good.

“Oh that’s more expensive than I had hoped for?


“Is it worth it?

“Ok then, here’s my money.”

Somebody who just wants to get hammered will go to a supermarket and buy cheap wine in a carton that tastes like diesel but gets the job done, while someone who wants to savour a bottle of fine fermented grape juice with a friend over dinner will have no problem paying a premium.

A person needing a knockabout car that’ll help them drive up the mountain to their cortijo will spend $500 on an old beat-up jalopy and they won’t care if it disintegrates or blows up within a year. It’s done its job, let’s find another one.

But someone who wants a safe, stable car with good traction so that even in heavy rains they’ll be able to reach home safely with their kids, without having to overnight with friends on the coast until the rain stops, they go and purchase a solid 4×4.

It’s all about how much value you are looking to get from your purchase. If you want something really cheap, then you are by definition not expecting a lot of value.

Because you now very well, deep down, that we tend to get what we pay for.

And that’s why my new LEAP newsletter isn’t cheap: at $79, it’s among the more expensive monthly courses. (In reality, that breaks down to less than you pay for a cup of coffee each day, so I guess it depends where people have their priorities).

But because of that price, I will feel obliged, morally and ethically bound, to fill those suckers up as densely as I can, each month.

I mean, I could easily create a $19/month newsletter, if I didn’t care about quality.

But just for the fact that you’d not be expecting much from it, I wouldn’t be very motivated to create something stellar. If people are not expecting much – why go all out?

That’s not how I do business. It wouldn’t help you.

I give you the very best of what I know, the very things that make my business work, and I present that in a structure that gives you grip on your business, your market and your sales.

The first issue, for example, is going to be a fantastic little starter: I’m going to show you exactly how I managed to create the relationship I have with my readers, and how that turns into sales over and over again, even though my list is – I’ll say it again – tiny.

In fact, my list is so small that it makes me want to buy a Ferrari. Yes, I have issues.


Issue #1 will be like a Single Malt Copy case study – you’ll learn how and why these daily emails work so well, and what I did beside writing emails to make all this work.

And no, it’s not at all because of my writing skills, such as they may be.

In fact, scrutinous readers will have noticed I take grotesque liberties with grammar, cultural idiom, spelling, you name it. And yet, it works. How so? That’s what you’ll learn in Issue #1.

And yes, this is supposed to be the call to action, and yes, I should have had the salespage with more info ready by now, but as they say in Spanish: En la casa del herrero, los cuchillos son de palo. Or something like that: In the home of the blacksmith, the knives are made of wood.

Ah yes, the life of a maker of things: As a tailor, I only had one decent suit for myself… as a copywriter, creating pages for myself is an advanced type of torture, and the cobbler’s kids have no shoes.

Oh well, we push on like good little chillun’, doesn’t we?

Pip pip.


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