A week ago, I started a kerfuffle on this here page, suggesting, in effect, that “Perfect is Good, Done is Better.”
You can revisit it here: How to Write Good.
I’m not going to backtrack; I still believe that action trumps inaction on the part of the small business owner who is anxious to dive into social media and doesn’t know where to begin.
But, New York Times Best-Selling Authors Should Know Better.
I signed up for a list from a well-known “personality” – their marketing started with a webinar that I missed, followed by another email inviting me to listen to the archive. It was semi-classic marketing: webinar will be filled up, you need to get on the phone lines early to secure a seat. Oh and stay tuned for great things to come.
Imagine my surprise when I got an email, from this same “Best-Selling Author,” with this subject line (truncated so you can’t tell exactly who sent it):
“1st of it’s kind marketing system ready for you”
Mistakes happen, right?
WRONG.
One of the themes from last week’s “How to Write Good” comments centered around trust, higher standards, what we as a (dare I say) content community owe our readership. So, on MY site, well, YES, I cannot STAND typos, wordos, bad grammar, bad punctuation. I do everything in my power to stamp those out.
And, dare I say, New York Times Best-Selling Authors owe us more.
Especially in the subject line of their email – which may have gone out to 100,000 people, I don’t know.
Sadly, it gets worse.
There are trusted names within this email. Names that I am sure have been used with permission. Names that I personally trust. And one of the names is misspelled.
So, I am now questioning a couple things. Such as whether these folks whose names are within the email know what they are getting themselves into. Whether they are sacrificing quality for reach.
Finally, as if to nod to the fact that this “Best-Selling Author” has no respect for our time, the death blow to all respect. (Again, truncated.)
Typos are my gift to you.
My gift to you, Mr. Author Person? An unsubscribe, and a jaundiced eye toward your product.
Oh, and you lost me as a prospect.