Plot Twist: Your Copywriting Is Bombing Because You Can't Direct
GM.
I’m currently drafting up some Meta ads and just finished setting up some automated integrations, while writing this up.
This week? We're moving on and it's a long one so get some coffee or snacks ready.
Last week I taught you the 5 frameworks that turn opened emails into sales as well as a semi deep dive into what frameworks.
Because this next component or “puzzle piece” of copywriting deserves its own email. One element that separates copywriters who make decent money from those who print cash on demand.
Storytelling.
But not just any story. I'm talking about world-building. The kind of storytelling that makes your readers forget they're reading a sales email.
If you can nail this aspect of copy(storytelling), you’ll boast better open rates, better engagement, better trust, better sales and generally outstrip your competition.
It is likely the most important facet of copywriting that one can learn. And also the one of the easiest needle moving skills that one can learn.
Let me show you what I mean with a confession:
Two years ago when I was just starting out in the freelance world, I wrote an email for a client that bombed. Hard.
It had all the technical pieces. Strong headline. Clear benefits. Solid CTA. But it felt... flat. Like reading an instruction manual, I was just starting out afterall. My open rates were fine, but my click-through rates? Pathetic.
Then I did something unusual for a copywriter.
I went to the movies.
Why?
A copywriting mentor of mine told me beforehand that watching movies and reading fiction is one of the best ways to become a better copywriter.
He gave me more pointers but all will be revealed if you just keep reading.
So anyways, I went. Alone, in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon to see if something clicks.
I watched The Count of Monte Cristo, the new 2024 remake. I realized then what my mentor was trying to instill in me.
That I wasn't just watching a movie about a prison escape, about a man getting his revenge. I was living inside a world. Feeling the cold stone walls. Tasting the years. Believing in justice even when it seemed impossible.
When the credits rolled, I sat there in that empty theater and realized: I'd just spent three hours completely absorbed in a story about a man I'd never met, in a situation I'd never experienced(hopefully), fighting for something I already had(freedom).
And I cared deeply about every second of it.
So I rang up my mentor and told him I saw what he was trying to show me.
That the greatest films ever made don't just tell you a story. They build a world so vivid, so textured, so emotionally true that you forget you're watching a screen. You're in it.
And that's exactly what Eugene Schwartz meant when he said:
"Copy is not written. If anyone tells you 'you write copy,' sneer at them. Copy is not written. Copy is assembled. You do not write copy; you assemble it. You are working with a series of building blocks, you are putting the building blocks together, and then you are putting them in certain structures. You are building a little city of desire for your person to come and live in."
Read that last line again.
"You are building a little city of desire for your person to come and live in."
This is world-building.
Schwartz understood what Spielberg, Nolan, and Scorsese know: you don't convince people to care. You build a world so compelling they can't help but step inside.
I drove home from that theater in my old beat-up mustang convertible and rewrote my email. Same offer. Same product. But this time, I didn't follow cookie cutter entry level copy frameworks.
I built a city. I directed a film in my reader's mind.
I opened with a scene, I built tension. Added stakes. Created a transformation arc.
The result? That rewritten email and sales letter generated thousands of dollars in sales for my client. The client happily gave me some rev share.
Same offer. Just one tweak.
So here’s a bit of a challenge because nobody understands world-building better than the masters of cinema:
Watch and study movies/films and buy a couple of second hand fantasy/sci fiction books to read.
You’ll have a great time, expand your mind and become a better copywriter. And better copywriters earn more. 4 birds with one stone.
Think about the movies you’ve already likely watched that you'll never forget.
The Godfather. Not just because of the plot, but because you could see that world. The dim lighting. The close-ups on faces. The careful rituals of power. You didn't just watch it, you inhabited it. Coppola built a city of mafiosos, and you moved in for three hours.
Inception. A movie about dreams that planted ideas so deep in your mind you walked out of the theater questioning reality itself. Nolan didn't just tell you about dream layers, he made you live in them. And made you feel trapped.
Dune. You could feel that world. The sun, searing you in the desert sky. The sand in your teeth. The sandworms underneath The weight of prophecy pressing on your chest. The political chess games played across galaxies.
The Lord of the Rings. You could smell that world. The pipe-weed and baked bread in the Shire. The ancient stone of Rivendell. The sulfur of Mount Doom.
Star Wars. You could hear that world before you saw it. The hum of a lightsaber igniting. The screech of TIE fighters. The rattle and hum of the Millennium Falcon's hyperdrive. Lucas didn't create a galaxy far, far away, he made you believe you'd been there before, in some half-forgotten dream.
These films are unforgettable because they do something your flat, benefit-driven sales letters or emails don't:
They make you feel before they make you think.
And here's the secret Schwartz understood that most copywriters miss:
"Copy cannot create desire for a product. It can only take the hopes, dreams, fears, and desires that already exist in the hearts of millions of people and focus those already-existing desires onto a particular product."
That's exactly what great films do.
Rocky doesn't create your desire to matter, it focuses your existing desire onto a boxer from Philadelphia.
The Pursuit of Happyness doesn't create your desire for a better life, it focuses your existing struggle onto Chris Gardner's journey.
The Matrix doesn't create your sense that something's wrong with the world, it focuses that existing feeling onto a choice between red and blue pills.
The desire was already there. The film just built a city where that desire could live.
Your emails need to do the same.
The "visual brain trigger" - Why painting scenes in your reader's mind (not just listing benefits) makes your emails 3x more memorable than your competitors' feature dumps
The moral framework effect - How the best films teach ethics without preaching, and why embedding subtle values in your stories builds unshakeable trust with your audience (this is how Disney turned customers into cultists)
The emotional imprint phenomenon - Why viewers remember how Toy Story 3 made them cry 15 years later, and how to create that same emotional anchor in a 500-word email
The "I see myself" mirror - How great films make you identify with characters nothing like you, and the exact technique to make your reader see themselves as the hero of your story
The entertainment multiplier - Why people will read a 2,000-word email IF it entertains (and how Tarantino's dialogue teaches us to make "boring" product details riveting)
The desire-focusing lens - How Schwartz's principle of focusing existing desires works in practice, and why trying to create new desires is the fastest way to waste your time and tank your conversions
Let me break down the exact film-inspired world-building system I use. I’ve been doing a bit of this any chance i get:
Step 1: Open With A Scene, Not A Statement (This is called In Medias Res(a Latin phrase meaning "in the midst of things) in the literary world).
Think about how some great movies start.
Saving Private Ryan doesn't open with "War is hell." It drops you on Omaha Beach. Bullets. Blood. Chaos. You're in the thick of it before you can think.
The Social Network doesn't start with "Mark Zuckerberg created Facebook." It starts with a breakup conversation in a bar. Fast dialogue. Tension. Character.
Your emails should do the same.
Bad: "Today I want to talk about overcoming failure."
Good: "I was sitting in my car in a Starbucks parking lot at midnight, engine running because I couldn't afford to waste gas driving anywhere, watching my bank account drop below $400."
See the difference? The second one is a movie scene. You're not describing a city, you're opening the door and pulling your reader inside.
Step 2: Show, Don't Tell (The Spielberg Principle)
Spielberg said: "I dream for a living." But he doesn't just tell you the dream, he shows you.
In Jaws, he never shows you the full shark for the first hour. Just fins. Music. Terror. Your imagination does the heavy lifting.
In your emails, this means: stop explaining everything. Let details do the work.
Bad: "I was really stressed about money."
Good: "I refreshed my bank app seventeen times in an hour. Each time, the number got smaller."
The second version doesn't say "stressed." It shows obsessive behavior. Your reader feels the stress because they're living in that moment with you.
Step 3: Build Stakes Like Nolan Builds Tension
Christopher Nolan is a master of the ticking clock.
Dunkirk has three timelines converging. Each one has a countdown. You're constantly aware: time is running out.
The Dark Knight gives Batman impossible choices. Save Harvey or Rachel. The Joker doesn't just create action, he creates moral stakes.
Your emails need this too.
Bad: "I needed to figure out copywriting."
Good: "I had 48 hours to land a client or I'd have to shut down my business and tell my wife I'd failed. Again."
Now your reader is invested. They want to know if you make it. The stakes pull them through every sentence. They're not just visiting your world, they're invested in what happens there.
Step 4: Create Transformation Through Contrast (The Hero's Journey)
Every great film follows the same arc: ordinary world → crisis → transformation → new world.
Rocky isn't about boxing. It's about a nobody becoming somebody. We see him before (collecting debts, punching meat) and after (going the distance with Apollo Creed).
The Pursuit of Happyness shows Chris Gardner sleeping in disgusting subway bathrooms, then walking into his new job in a suit. The contrast is the story.
In your emails:
Bad: "I went from struggling to successful."
Good: "I went from sleeping on my sister's couch, lying to my mom about 'how business was going,' to flying first class to speak at a conference where people paid $5,000 to hear me talk."
The contrast creates desire. But remember Schwartz's principle: you're not creating the desire for transformation. That desire already exists in your reader. You're just focusing it. Showing them a path from their current city to the one they want to live in.
Step 5: Embed Morals Without Preaching (The Pixar Method)
Pixar doesn't make kids' movies. They make philosophy disguised as entertainment.
Inside Out teaches emotional intelligence. Wall-E critiques consumerism. Up explores grief and purpose. But they never lecture. The lessons are woven into the world they build.
Your emails should do the same.
When I tell a story about bombing a sales-letter because I tried to sound smart instead of being helpful, I'm not just confessing. I'm teaching a principle: authenticity beats cleverness.
When I describe turning down a client who wanted to manipulate his audience, I'm not preaching ethics. I'm showing my values through action.
Your readers absorb these lessons. They start to share your worldview. And when they share your worldview? They're not just visiting your world anymore.
They're residents.
Why This Actually Matters (Beyond Just "Good Writing")
World-building isn't creative writing class. It's strategic persuasion.
When Martin Scorsese builds a world in Goodfellas, you're not just watching criminals, you're understanding their logic, feeling their seduction, living their rise and fall. You're inhabiting the city he built.
When you build a world in your emails, the same thing happens:
You bypass skepticism. Just like films suspend disbelief, stories in emails bypass the analytical brain. Your reader stops thinking "is this true?" and starts thinking "what happens next?"
You teach without triggering resistance. The Matrix taught philosophy. Fight Club critiqued capitalism. 12 Angry Men taught critical thinking. But nobody felt lectured because they were absorbed in the story. Your emails can do the same with your frameworks and principles.
You create emotional loyalty. People don't just like their favorite films, they love them. They quote them. Rewatch them. Defend them. That's the same loyalty great email storytelling creates with subscribers.
You focus existing desires onto your offer. This is Schwartz's genius. Your reader already wants transformation. Already fears failure. Already dreams of success. You're not creating those desires. You're building a city where those desires have a home, and your product is the key to the front door.
You make your offers inevitable. When Frodo finally destroys the ring, it's not surprising, it's the only possible ending to the journey you've taken. When your email builds a world and takes your reader on a journey, your offer isn't a pitch. It's the resolution they've been waiting for.
This is exactly what the legends understood.
Eugene Schwartz didn't just sell vitamins. He built a city where you were either awakened to health or asleep in ignorance, just like Neo choosing between the red pill and the blue pill.
Gary Halbert didn't just sell a book. He built a city where fathers either passed down wisdom or failed their children, with the emotional weight of Field of Dreams.
Dan Kennedy didn't just sell marketing systems. He built a city where entrepreneurs were either in control or getting pushed around, with all the stakes of a Scorsese film.
Your world = Your market.
Next week? I'm showing you the psychology of the close. How to ask for the sale without sounding desperate. How to make the CTA feel like the natural conclusion of the story you just told, the perfect final scene of your film.
And then? No clue, I'll think of something else.
But for now, try this:
Pick one email or sales-letter you're about to write. Before you start typing benefits and features, close your eyes and build a world.
Not a sales pitch. A world. A place your reader can step into and live for three minutes.
What's the opening shot? What does your reader see, hear, feel? What's at stake? What transformation are we witnessing? What desires that already exist in their heart are you focusing onto your message?
Start there.
Write your email like you're writing a screenplay. Not every detail. Just enough to make your reader see it. Feel it. Live it.
Build a little world of desire for your person to come and live in.
Watch what happens to your engagement.
If this clicked for you, forward it to a copywriter friend who's still writing flat emails that read like product manuals.
And if someone forwarded this to you, subscribe to my list, it's free. The first email includes a free ebook that'll help you build your list and start making money.
Till next time and much love,
Fathi