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I’ve written in the past about how principles of dramatic writing can be applied to copywriting. Plot, characterization, theme, spectacle — these and other ancient devices can help you create dynamic, compelling marketing copy. But how do dramatists actually put all this stuff into their writing? What are the nuts and bolts of a dramatic scene, and how can they be repurposed to build a great website, brochure, or article?

It’s all about the beat.

A beat is the smallest single chunk of a drama. It’s a single action in a play or screenplay, designed to achieve one specific thing. String enough beats together in the right order, and you have a scene. String enough scenes together, and you have a complete story.

The simplest kind of beat to understand is the conflict beat. Say I have a really nice pen — an incredibly expensive fountain pen, or a new high-tech gadget pen. Say you want this pen. You really, really want this pen. (Make up your own reason why it’s so incredibly important to you.) What are you willing to do to get this pen from me? You might try any or all of the following:

Ask casually
Ask nicely
Trick me into handing it to you
Cry over it
Browbeat me into it
Threaten me over it
Reach out and grab it

So you try the first thing, and I refuse. That’s a beat. A character attempts something and either succeeds or fails — fails, in this case, because his opponent blocked the action. Beat over. So you try the next thing, and I refuse, or give in, or whatever concludes that action. There’s another beat. Et cetera.

If you look at the list I created above, you’ll notice that the actions tend to escalate in intensity as you become increasingly desperate to get that pen. This is how a scene builds to a climax — in steps. Emotions heat up, larger and larger actions are taken, until finally there’s a winner and a loser. Curtain.

Conflict beats are only one type of beat. Perhaps you want to paint a mood, to create atmosphere, so you have a character describe his memories of a certain lake on a clear moonlit night. This is still a beat, but it exists to create tone, not conflict. Or maybe a character enters and begins cleaning a room in such a way that we see he’s really fussy and a bit of a control freak about his surroundings. That’s a character beat, because it establishes who he is before he even says a word.

So, what does all this have to do with copywriting? Beats are a way of viewing and controlling the dramatic structure behind your writing, enabling you to build your marketing copy word by word, moment by moment, so that it carries your reader along toward an inevitable conclusion.

We tend to describe marketing copy in a few primitive strokes: “Create the pain, relieve the pain, close with a call to action.” But trying to write copy to those broad specifications would be like building a three-story house from a sheet of paper reading, “Cement on the bottom, brick walls, and a roof on top.” You must know exactly what goes where, and why. You have to create your message step by step, establishing a mental image here, a tone of voice there, a buildup of this emotion, a release of that emotion — until you reach that all-important final beat, the one that forces the buyer’s decision.

Curtain.

I see lots of writing “how-to” titles in book stores — guides on how to write better, how to write faster, how to find the time to write, how to gather the courage to write, how to make money writing, and so on. But there’s one subject that I’ve never seen anyone write about, and that’s how to enjoy writing.

Don’t be silly, you say. One naturally assumes that if you’ve set out to write something, then you must enjoy writing. Yes?

Not necessarily. You may be pressed into a writing assignment you have no desire to fool with, but the need exists, the deadline is established, and your colleagues have found some way of magically excusing themselves from the job. Non-writers in particular hate being being saddled with a writing assignment, and that’s completely understandable. But what about those of us who actually choose to take on writing projects? Obviously we live for the thrill of sitting at our desks, tapping the keys for hours one end, day in and day out, with the occasional extra excitement of staring at the wall and wondering what in the world comes next.

Yeah.

Sometimes writing is fun, or at least painless. I sit down, relax for a moment, writing comes out, and before I know it the workday is over and I have a completed draft, ready for submission. I like it when that happens. But there are plenty of assignments where I’m pushing my way through quicksand, one 2-ton foot at a time, wishing I were anywhere else, doing anything else in the world. Sometimes just getting started, just going to the desk and turning the computer on, feels like a long march to the gallows. I just know there can’t be anything good awaiting me at the end of that road. Oh, and the weather outside looks awfully nice today….

How could a professional writer possibly feel that way about his chosen profession? Well, for starters, writing is hard. Even for a pro, the responsibility of writing to a certain standard, every time and on a deadline, can challenge the self-confidence and cause “stage fright” in the form of writer’s block. Also, anyone who does the same thing every single day is likely to get a little restless now and again. Even when I’m writing on a wide range of subjects from one day to the next, the routine is the same. Sit down. Think. Write. Review. Write some more. Review. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. And then there are just some days that aren’t writer-friendly — maybe you’re sick, or tired, or worried about other things.

When you’re a professional, though, none of that matters. Writing is a job. If you work a standard 9 to 5 job, you’re expected to show up on time, do what you’re supposed to do when you’re supposed to do it, and continue to behave that way on a daily basis, or you won’t have that job very long. Same with writing. If I expect to earn any money, I’d better gain a reputation as a reliable professional who produces quality material on schedule. I’ve written through injuries, influenza, and even a migraine that made it all but impossible to read what I was writing. Why? Because that’s what I’m paid to do.

Beyond economic necessity, though, why does a writer write? There are as many correct answers to that question as there are individual people. Some writers simply enjoy “having written” — the final accomplishment justifies what for them is an unpleasant or tedious process. Others genuinely do live to ride that creative train, enjoying the moment-by-moment transformation of nothing into something. And some of us, believe it or not, have no idea why we write. It’s just something we’ve always done, like eating or breathing. There’s no “because” to it at all. We write because we can’t help it.

I guess I can see now why there’s no book on how to enjoy writing. Either you do or you don’t. The main thing is to do it well — or hire someone who can.

I used to build model airplanes by the squadron — the ones that came on big plastic “trees” and had to be glued together with model cement. I built and painted these planes with more enthusiasm than skill. When I took my time and followed all the instructions, the final result would look more or less like the illustration on the box. But sometimes I’d be in such a hurry to get the thing finished that somewhere along the line I would skip a step. (In my own defense, that old-school airplane glue didn’t exactly aid the thinking process in these situations.) Many times I found myself stuck with a model that didn’t resemble the original because some piece or other was missing, backwards, upside-down, you name it. I’ve had similar problems over the years with do-it-yourself furniture, including one TV stand currently serving light duty as a supply shelf because I don’t trust it to actually hold a TV. One peg out of place, one panel wrongly installed, weakens the entire structure.

Marketing campaigns are prone to the same trouble. If your print advertising conveys a different message than your website, and your website conveys a different message than your radio spot, and so on and so forth, you can’t possibly marshall the power that comes from a unified marketing effort.

The word I’m looking for here is congruence. Simply put, congruence is a state of agreement; behavioral scientists describe it as an internal or external consistency. Consistent behaviors, and actions allow you to make powerful statements. If, on the other hand, you speak with confidence but your handshake feels like a dead fish, that inconsistency weakens the impression you’re trying to make. The overall strategy may be intact, but some of the pieces are out of place or working at cross purposes.

That’s why you must aim for consistency of tone and message across all your marketing channels — website, blog, direct mail, social media, the works. Ideally, each piece of your marketing structure supports every other piece so that moving from one channel to the next feels natural and inevitable to the reader. Everything must work together to convey the same overall message, from the color of your business cards to the wording on your LinkedIn profile.

Think of your brand identity as a castle. Strong, consistent messaging builds your brand and inspires confidence in your company’s strength and unity of purpose. Little inconsistencies are like cracks in the facade, weakening and eroding your brand-castle until visitors hesitate to venture inside. In the worst case, your brand is so scattered as to be unrecognizable, and then you have to go back to the drawing board. So check to see if your marketing structure has a few pieces missing or out of place — and fix it now, before the glue sets!

You may already know that if you see “TMI” posted on an online message board, it stands for “Too Much Information.” It’s usually a warning, or a complaint, that you’re telling us more than we want or need to know. (Example post title: “Embarrassing Personal Hygiene Question (possibly TMI).”)

While “TMI” usually refers to unpleasant subject matter, it can also be applied to cases of epic rambling or brain-crushing detail. I even think of it in terms of spilling the beans unnecessarily. I recently watched a rotten old B-movie where a guy was getting beaten up by a lynch mob for a murder he didn’t commit. Meanwhile, the guy’s friend spots the real murderer in the crowd, grabs him, and starts slapping him around. The culprit immediately falls to his knees and starts yelling, “I didn’t mean it! I didn’t mean to kill her!” Um, okay. Thanks for sharing. You might consider not representing yourself in court.

We sometimes offer too much in our marketing copy. It’s tempting to spew out all the facts and figures, reams of testimonials, or volumes of microscopic detail about what we do. It’s hard to resist posting every single conceivable question and answer on our FAQ page until it resembles an FAQ book. (Be honest, are all those questions “frequently asked?”) We want to stagger our readers with our comprehensive knowledge and solutions — but who wants to be staggered?

If you throw information at a reader until steam comes out of his ears, he can’t focus on the key points that piqued his interest in the first place. Worse, you’ve allowed no space for the reader’s imagination to roam. It takes two to communicate, and if you’ve created an impenetrable brick wall of information that fills every single crack, answers every question, anticipates every thought the reader might have, then your reader has no room to insert his own imagination — which means he can’t envision your product or service making his life or business better. You’ve blinded his mind’s eye.

Too much information will also cause you to lose queries. Once you’ve told the prospective client everything he needs to know, you’ve drastically reduced the chances of having a future conversation with that person. Sure, your prospect might call you right away to order something, but he’s more likely to just file the pages away for future reference — and keep shopping around.

The real point of effective marketing is to get folks excited enough to want more — and they get that by talking to you. Once you’ve got that conversation, you then have the opportunity to build trust, set up meetings, or point out additional products or services that lead to a bigger sale or future business. Give prospects a reason to contact you!

Just remember: TMI (Too Much Information) = NEB (Not Enough Business).