The Sales Page Clinic

We got the house.

The house I liked most, the one with a chook pen and vegie garden and frog pond. The one near the river. The one with wandering ducks and no through roads. I haven’t even seen the place – The Dude has been valiantly doing all the legwork – but I am already in love with it.

We move in one week from now. Cue the joyous chaos.

I am proud.

In the last few months I have made enough money to keep myself alive AND save up enough to pay four weeks bond and two weeks rent, AND to pay the fuel for The Dude to drive 800km to come get me and all my stuff AND for us to drive back, AND to hire a truck to move all our possessions from storage into this shiny new house, AND to turn on the lights and internet. Thousands of dollars in six weeks, hallelujah!

But there were some unexpected hitches: from the technical (upgrading my wireless internet connection) to the personal (travelling north to my uncle’s funeral). Due to those expenses, and a few more, The Dude and I no longer have enough cash to move house elegantly: to stop on the drive back and eat a leisurely pub lunch, to fill up our empty pantry with bulk staples, to replace the microwave and desk that were too craptacular to put into storage.

And most importantly, to have a bit of security blanket left over in case something happens. Because it always does, right?


  1. I need to make a few hundred dollars in the next week.
  2. I need to do this by solving a problem for you.
  3. And I know about one issue that’s come up a half-dozen times in recent client sessions.

See if it resonates for you.

You have an offering you love, and a sales page that doesn’t do it justice.

You have a sales page that doesn’t work.

It just… misses.

When you tell the right people about the work one-on-one, or show them a sample, they get wildly excited. “Wow, that’s amazing! Why haven’t you told me about it before?” And you admit, Well, actually, I think you read this sales page a month ago, but you’ve forgotten all about it.

The sales page doesn’t… quite… feel good. Feel like you wrote it. It doesn’t have any edge, any oomph, any GUTS. It’s pastel watercolours when you wanted neon tattoo.

You suspect that you aren’t promoting this offering as much as you should, because you can’t proudly point to the sales page and say, “Hey! Here it is! Check out all my majesty!”

You make few sales, or no sales at all. Financially this is woeful, but more than that is the missed opportunity. The work is wonderful, you know it’s wonderful, but you obviously aren’t communicating its wonderfulness. So many people could benefit from your offering, but it’s not reaching them. It’s so freaking frustrating!

You wish you had a sales page that is as amazing as the offering it promotes.

Good news, chickadee!

You already have everything you need to write a gobsmackingly uplifting and effective sales page.

You have:

  • an amazingtacular offering
  • big-time enthusiasm for the work you do
  • your own dee-lighful voice and style
  • the capacity to Make Shit Happen

The bones are all there, darlingheart.

Together, we’ll strip back your sales page, find those beautiful bones, and polish the everliving fuck out of them.

Enter… the Sales Page Clinic!

One glorious live experience, featuring amazing participants with less-than-amazingpants sales pages.

You can attend and write a gazillion underlined notes as you watch.
You can watch (or rewatch) the recording later, in your own time.
And, if you are brave, you can volunteer your sales page to be dissected, stripped back, and TRANSFORMED.

Together, live on the webinar, we will suss out what is ailing your sales page, and what needs to happen to make it sing.

Potential issues we might fix:

  • The Airy-Fairies
  • The Process Infatuation
  • The Invisible Audience
  • The Offroader
  • The Price Is Not Actually Right
  • The What’s All This, Then?
  • The Suit Possession
  • The Chiaroscuro
  • The Garage Sale Schemozzle
  • The Putt-Putt
  • The Bang and Whisper
  • The Banquet Imbalance

What are all of these fascinating issues? You’ll have to join us to find out!

How to join us

The Sales Page Clinic will be held as a live webinar, with the recording available to all participants afterward.

The date will be on Saturday the 13th of October at 8am Brisbane time. (That’s 5PM on Friday the 12th of October in US Central time, and 11PM on the 12th in London time.)

The cost is $50.

Ready to rock your sales page? Click the link and get started!


How many sales pages we get through and how long we’ll go for will be determined by how many people sign up. The maximum will be eight sales pages in two hours, ’cause my brain will fall out after that.

If we have more than ten participants I will a) cheer and b) try to choose participants who are representative, so that even if you aren’t featured you will learn squoodles. If that happens, priority will definitely be given to the first people to sign up.

(So you should click that link right now, is what I’m saying.)

If we have more than twenty participants I will a) cheer more and b) run an extra session along the same principles. That’s enough time for me to lay out pretty much everything I know on what makes sales pages joyous, ick-free, and effective.

Sick of so-so sales pages? Sign up now!

And wish me luck for the house-moving. I’ll send photos of the ducks.

Rock on,

photo by: Alex E. Proimos

The young knight, the wise knight, and the oft-relearned lesson.

The young knight radiated painful levels of keenness.

Christina, yes that Christina, sighed inaudibly and said, ”Very well. I will give you space in my pavilion and we shall ride together in the tourney. What was your name again?”

Her name was Liliane, and she had lived a lifetime in a month: first slaying the Demon of Cotterston, then knighted by the Good Queen Elisandra herself, and now, to be mentored by the Queen’s most puissant knight…

”We shall discuss strategy, and she will show me the best way to hold a lance, then she will compliment me on my broadsword technique!” thought Liliane. ”And perhaps, perhaps I shall best her in the grand melee, and as ransom she will offer me the Helm of Incendrius, and I will refuse to accept it, and we shall become the best, the very best of friends…”

Christina watched the young knight, smiled, shook her head.

“Let us prepare.”

They oiled the straps on their vambraces. They sharpened their swords. They polished their cuirasses, reinforced their shields, rolled their chain mail in barrels with a handful of sand. Then ritually, their squires armed and armoured them.

They were resplendent. They set forth.

Later: bloodied, muddied, sweaty and sodden, the knights retired after the first day of jousts and challenges.

Outside the tent smiled a great many young men, determined to show their appreciation of the valourous knights. Liliane giggled as she sat to remove her greaves. Christina, veteran of a hundred tourneys, winked knowingly back.

Liliane was emboldened to ask, ”What will you, um, wh- what are your plans for the evening?”

Christina replied, ”I’m going to take a nap.”

”But… you won the competition today! There are… groupies outside the tent! and Her Majesty’s feast is this night!”

”Oh, I shall definitely attend the feast and drink a cup to Her Majesty’s health. To do so I shall skip the cooing and froing, which is a pity. But since I want to win the grand mêlée tomorrow, I must rest now. Do you not feel tired?”

Liliane admitted that she felt, you know, a leetle bit tired after nine hours of combat and manoeuvring while wearing half a ton of metal in the hot sun.

”But… this a special occasion. And it’s only two days… I don’t want to miss a second of it! I can skip the nap, I’ll be fine.”

”Do as you wish,” said Christina. ”I will not say I told you so.”

Liliane polished her armour, sharpened her broadsword, and left in a cloud of perfume and pomade and pride. Christina settled down on her pallet and thought as she stretched.

She thought, You young fool. So diligent about taking care of your equipment, so lax about taking care of yourself. As if your body was not your most important weapon. As if your mind wasn’t your most important shield.

I could tell you. I could say, ”A magic sword in a weak hand is not just useless. It is dangerous.” I could say, ”The more a sword parries, the more often it must be sharpened.”

But you cannot see past the excitement and you would not listen, young fool. So tomorrow I shall hammer you into the ground in the grand mêlée. Perhaps you will learn then.

Christina rolled dreaming into the blankets, seeing past glories and glories soon to come.

It is five years later and sleep is a pleasant memory.

The wind scythes through the ravine, observing a valiant last stand. The knights of the Good Queen Elisandra are hopelessly outnumbered by the skeletal army of the Dread Necromancer Zod.

The fell and fearsome Christina has stood in the narrowest part of the ravine, holding the pass with sword and blazing eye, for three days and three nights. The bard is at the back, whistling and taking notes.

There is a lull amongst the undead ranks, as the disassembled troops grope to find their skulls and collarbones. Christina plants her sword in the pounded dust and waits for them to come again.

And then she is remorselessly pulled away to sit on a rock, sword replaced with stew, helm replaced with damp cloth. Liliane Traitors-foe, scarred and cynical and already more renowned than any knight before her, looms out of the sun and dust and offers a flagon of wine.

”Fine, sister knight,” growls Christina. ”A quick sup then I will be back to the lines. I thank you.”

The young knight, no longer so young, shakes her head.

”A leisurely meal, a long nap, confession from the archbishop, massage, and THEN you can return to the lines.”

”But… I wield the Sword of Adamant, against which none can stand!”


”But… there are none other who can push back the advance!”

”You are correct.”

”But… this army must be defeated, or our land will burn!”


”Therefore, I cannot rest!”

”We have barricades, and brave milkmaids with pikes to defend them. We have fire archers on the cliff walls. We will not advance, but we will hold while you sleep. Even if we would not, you still must sleep. A wise knight once taught me this.”

Christina rolls her eyes.

”That was tourney and play. This is disaster! We teeter on the edge of destruction. There is no time for… massages.”

”Your arms grow tired. Deny it.”


”Your mind grows dull. Deny it.”


”One more day of this and you will be less useful than the milkmaids. DENY IT.”

”BUT I MUST!” roars Christina. ”The Queen and the land must be defended!”

Liliane held her arm. ”Wise fool, we may need to hold this pass for weeks while the mages find a way to break the Dread Necromancer’s spell. Weeks! No matter how much we would wish to fight without rest, we are mortal flesh. We rest now to fight better tomorrow. We rest now in order to fight at all next week.”

There was nothing she could do in the face of that much sense. Christina found a hay bale and wrapped her cloak around herself.

She drifted off, as ever, seeing past glories and glories yet to come.

Looking for someone to rescue you from yourself? You should join The Provocateurs! All of the wisdom, with less of the contusions.

photo by: pwbaker

I am not Frankenstein. Right?

He’s not the prettiest fella…

It’s been a long time since I struggled to write a sales page.

Once upon a time, boy howdy did I have problems with them. I had to deal with the You Can’t Seriously Mean To Charge Real Money For This bugbears, and the Maybe You Could Buy This, If It’s Not Any Trouble? insecurities, and of course the It’s All So Clear In My Head, Surely Everyone Else Will See The Value I Am Describing blindness. And others; all the usual suspects.

But I’d gotten past them, moreorless, and done writing courses and plenty of marketing courses. I have gotten to the blesséd place where sales pages are actually rather fun to write.

So I was flummoxed when the latest sales page I had to write felt like pulling out my teeth. Through my toenails.

I’d spend a painful hour at the keyboard.

Then I’d find Ash and say, “So I just wrote a bit for the sales page and it had Jonestown and Charles Manson in it. I’m pretty sure that’s Not Good.”

Ash agreed. She is a sensible girl.

It took a large-ish amount of journalling and some time with Leela, my wonderful coach, but I finally figured out where the stuck was coming from:

I was scared shitless.

Not scared of writing a sales page, nope nope.

Not scared of making money, which I am quite comfy with nowadays.

No, I was scared of what I was writing the sales page for. I was scared of my own creation.

Insert an obvious Frankenstein’s monster reference here.

I was writing a sales page for the paid community I’ve been working on for a few months. And until the point where I was writing the, “Hey, this is great, you should totes buy it,” part, I had managed to avoid facing my internal conflict on the topic of communities.

But it all came tumbling out as I wrote. I had to face the Important Truth:

Communities can be terribly destructive things.

Not just in the ultimate worst-case-scenario my brain kept conjuring up – I mean, it seemed quite unlikely that we’d end up in Viking longships with axes and the severed heads of our foes – but in less Five o’Clock News ways.

There are three big dangers, I think.

Toxic members: the bullies, the trolls, the harpies.

Toxic leaders: charismatic, convincing, and crazy.

Toxic shared belief: “Our cause is just, so our actions are just.”

Now I come to articulate this, I’m not even sure what I was specifically afraid of.

I don’t attract trolls, and I won’t accept bullies.

People like me, but I don’t have the skills or the desire to become a cult leader.

And you and I? We’re moderates, always willing to change our truth should a better one come along.

So… the chances of this community going apeshit crazy are… pretty dang small.

But still, I was scared.

To paraquote Leela, “I’d be worried about you if you weren’t scared.”

It’s a good point. This is one of those times when Doubt Is Your Friend.

It made me question myself – am I up to the task of kicking out members if they are toxic?

It made Ash and I restructure the offering a bit to be even less Here’s What I Think We Should Do and much more Let’s All Decide Together.

And doubt made me take responsibility. I am making something powerful, and with great power comes… why yes, great responsibility.

As soon as I accepted that, the stuck vanished and I wrote the sales page.

But I’m keeping the doubt around. I think it’ll be handy.

Do you wanna see what I made?

Because now I can say, without reservation, it is fucking awesome.

It’s called The Provocateurs, and it is the best community my love and doubt and best wishes for you could make.

If you join us in the next two weeks, it’s only $17/month.


No Molotovs, I promise!


photo by: twm1340

Bullwinkle is the patron saint of entrepreneurs.

“I should write an article about that.” I say. Sometimes the idea I have just expressed is big enough to write an entire article about, and I do. Sometimes it’s more of a bijou idea that wouldn’t make a whole article. Here’s a few of the smaller ones.

Bullwinkle J. Moose is the patron saint of entrepreneurs.

“Hey Rocky, watch me pull a rabbit out of my hat!”

“Again? But that trick never works.”

“This time fer sure!”

[Of course I do the voices.]

Bullwinkle has been trying this for ages, with no success. He’s pulled lions and rhinos and everything except a rabbit out of that hat.

But his faith is unshakeable. This time it’s gonna work. (You know, that Churchill quote: “Success consists of going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm.”)

I know it’s tiring to be trying a different tack AGAIN. Channel Bullwinkle.

“This time for sure!”

Leave an edge open.

I don’t think we need to pin that part down yet. This idea is too new – we need to leave some edges open for it to grow.

You don’t want to do that thing where you make everything fit… just… so and then you realise, “Woop, it needs to be 20% bigger.”


I’ve done that with reshelving books. You get everything in and then you find five more of them. I’ve given away books just so everything would fit, which is dumb. If I’d left a shelf available I would have been fine.

Price is always subjective.

Some people are telling you your prices are too high. But you have to remember, they’re not expressing a Universal Truth About Pricing. Price is always completely subjective. All they’re really saying is, “Your prices are too high for me.”

I mean, we both know your prices are on the low side of normal. So it’s not that you have the wrong prices, you just have the wrong potential clients.

There will be some people who think 50c an hour is too much for your work. You could never drop your prices enough to make them happy.

The right clients always want to pay you full price. They might not be able to, but they really, really wanna.

Your prices are fine. Let’s talk about attracting the right clients.

Like this new experimental format? Please come tell me in the comments!