Write a script for a late-night infomercial — where the product is your blog. How do you market yourself? What qualities do you embody that other “products” don’t? What are the benefits of reading your blog?
Some things just don’t ring with you. Infomercials is one of them.
If I was to do an infomercial likely it would be without a script. I’d start telling a story.
“Welcome to the Jittery Goat. I’m Kenton Lewis, the guy to blame.
Recently I was reading the obits in my hometown newspaper. Two people from my childhood died. One of them I’m blogging about in two weeks, but I’d like to just tell you about the other one right now.
His name was Denny. He was a tough guy in my old neighborhood. Nobody messed with him. He was four years older than me and he bullied me around every time he got a chance.
When walking to the park I took the long way just to avoid walking by his house.
One day I was having a fun day at the park. It was in the summer and the city recreation department sponsored summer programs supervised by college students. It kept us juvenile delinquents from being delinquent and gave college kids a summer job and college money.
There was a small building in the park where all the athletic equipment was kept. I went inside to get something, it was likely bases for a baseball game. I was alone. Denny came inside right after me. He had a cousin with him who was about four years younger than me. And following them was Denny’s gang of fearful admirers.
Denny backed me into a corner and told his little cousin to punch me. I knew what Denny’s ploy was; if I struck his little cousin in defense of myself that would justify him beating me.
The little cousin hit me in the stomach.
I smiled. “You hit about as hard as Denny.”
Everyone laughed. Denny shoved me against the wall, sneered, and left me alone.
The worst thing you can do to a bully is humiliate him in front of his friends.
Over the years I saw Denny a few times. He pretended to never quite remember me. But from that day in the park he belonged to me. He was afraid that somehow I might remember that event and perhaps recall it, especially if others were around.
He led a life of community service; a life long volunteer fireman, chief of the department, and served a term or so as mayor of his town.
From that day in the park I was never afraid of him. I always saw a loneliness in his eyes. I’m sad he died. I hope he didn’t die alone.
If you like my stories, buy one of my books featured on the sidebar. Click on them and it will take you to Amazon. The books have some good stuff in them.
The Jittery Goat is a place to spend a few minutes, hear a story, buy a book for yourself or friend, move on, and come back.”
That’s an example of how I’d do an infomercial. Not exactly ripping stuff, but the kind of stuff that makes people think about others and their stories too.