6306111c32ea7 Business Correspondence
6306111c32ea7 Business Correspondence
6306111c32ea7 Business Correspondence
VOLUME I
CONTENTS
BUSINESS CORRESPONDENCE
VOLUME I
PART I
Preparing to Write the Letter
CHAPTER
1: What You Can Do With a Postage Stamp
2: The Advantages of Doing Business by Letter
3: Gathering Material and Picking Out Talking Points
4: When You Sit Down to Write
PART II
How to Write the Letter
5: How to Begin a Business Letter
6: How to Present Your Proposition
7: How to Bring the Letter to a Close
PART III
Style—Making the Letter Readable
8: “Style” in Letter Writing—And How to Acquire It
9: Making the Letter Hang Together
10: How to Make Letters Original
11: Making the Form Letter Personal
PART IV
The Dress of a Business Letter
12: Making Letterheads and Envelopes Distinctive
13: The Typographical Make-up of Business Letters
14: Getting a Uniform Policy and Quality in Letters
15: Making Letters Uniform in Appearance
PART V
Writing the Sales Letter
16: How to Write the Letter That Will “Land” the Order
17: The Letter That Will Bring An Inquiry
18: How to Close Sales by Letter
19: What to Enclose With Sales Letters
20: Bringing in New Business by Post Card
21: Making it Easy for the Prospect to Answer
PART VI
The Appeal to Different Classes
22: How to Write Letters That Appeal to Women
23: How to Write Letters That Appeal to Men
24: How to Write Letters That Appeal to Farmers
* * * * *
THE LETTER
SELLS GOODS
DIRECT
TO CONSUMERS
TO DEALERS
TO AGENTS
INDIRECT
BUILDS UP LISTS
SECURES NAMES
ELIMINATES DEAD WOOD
CLASSIFIES LIVE PROSPECTS
THROUGH CONSUMERS
CREATES DEMAND
DIRECTS TRADE
THROUGH DEALERS
SHOWS POSSIBLE PROFIT
INTRODUCES NEW LINES
AID TO SALESMEN
EDUCATES TRADE
CO-OPERATION
INTRODUCES
BACKS UP
KEEPS LINED UP
AID TO DEALERS
DRUMS UP TRADE
HOLDS CUSTOMERS
DEVELOPS NEW BUSINESS
HANDLES MEN
INSTRUCTION
ABOUT GOODS
ABOUT TERRITORY
ABOUT PROSPECTS
HOW TO SYSTEMIZE WORK
INSPIRATION
GINGER TALES
INSPIRES CONFIDENCE
SECURES CO-OPERATION
PROMOTES LOYALTY
COLLECTS MONEY
MERCANTILE ACTS - RETAIL ACTS - INSTALLMENT ACTS - PETTY
ACTS
PERSUASION
PRESSURE
THROUGH THREATS
OF SUIT
OF SHUTTING OFF CREDIT
OF WRITING TO REFERENCES
THROUGH LEGAL AVENUES
THROUGH LEGAL AGENCIES
HOUSE COLLECTION BUREAUS
REGULAR COLLECTION BUREAUS
THROUGH ATTORNEYS
ADJUSTS
INVESTIGATES
MAKES CAPITAL OUT OF COMPLAINTS
WINS BACK CUSTOMERS
DEVELOPS PRESTIGE
* * * * *
* * * * *
* * * * *
An architect can sit down and design your house on paper, showing its
exact proportions, the finish of every room, the location of every door and
window. He can give specific instructions for building your house but
before you can begin operations you have got to get together the brick and
mortar and lumber—all the material used in its construction.
And so the correspondent-architect can point out the way to write a letter:
how to begin, how to work up interest, how to present argument, how to
introduce salesmanship, how to work in a clincher and how to close, but
when you come to writing the letter that applies to your particular business
you have first to gather the material. And just as you select cement or brick
or lumber according to the kind of house you want to build, so the
correspondent must gather the particular kind of material he wants for his
letter, classify it and arrange it so that the best can be quickly selected.
The old school of correspondents—and there are many graduates still in
business—write solely from their own viewpoint. Their letters are focused
on “our goods,” “our interests” and “our profits.” But the new school of letter
writers keep their own interests in the background. Their sole aim is to
focus on the viewpoint of the reader; find the subjects in which he is
interested, learn the arguments that will appeal to him, bear down on the
persuasion that will induce him to act at once.
And so the successful correspondent should draw arguments and talking
points from many sources; from the house, from the customer, from
competitors, from the news of the day from his knowledge of human nature.
“What shall I do first?” asked a new salesman of the general manager.
“Sell yourself,” was the laconic reply, and every salesman and correspondent
in the country could well afford to take this advice to heart.
Sell yourself; answer every objection that you can think of, test out the
proposition from every conceivable angle; measure it by other similar
products; learn its points of weakness and of superiority, know its
possibilities and its limitations. Convince yourself; sell yourself, and then
you will be able to sell others.
The first source of material for the correspondent is in the house itself. His
knowledge must run back to the source of raw materials: the kinds of
materials used, where they come from, the quality and the quantity
required, the difficulties in obtaining them, the possibilities of a shortage, all
the problems of mining or gathering the raw material and getting it from its
source to the plant—a vast storehouse of talking points.
Then it is desirable to have a full knowledge of the processes of
manufacture; the method of handling work in the factory, the labor saving
appliances used, the new processes that have been perfected, the time
required in turning out goods, the delays that are liable to occur—these are
all pertinent and may furnish the strongest kind of selling arguments. And it
is equally desirable to have inside knowledge of the methods in the sales
department, in the receiving room and the shipping room. It is necessary for
the correspondent to know the firm’s facilities for handling orders; when
deliveries can be promised, what delays are liable to occur, how goods are
packed, the condition in which they are received by the customer, the
probable time required in reaching the customer.
Another nearby source of information is the status of the customer’s
account; whether he is slow pay or a man who always discounts his bills. It
is a very important fact for the correspondent to know whether the records
show an increasing business or a business that barely holds its own.
Then a most important source—by many considered the most valuable
material of all—is the customer himself. It may be laid down as a general
proposition that the more the correspondent knows about the man to
whom he is writing, the better appeal he can make.
In the first place, he wants to know the size and character of the customer’s
business. He should know the customer’s location, not merely as a name
that goes on the envelope, but some pertinent facts regarding the state or
section. If he can find out something regarding a customer’s standing and
his competition, it will help him to understand his problems.
Fortunate is the correspondent who knows something regarding the
personal peculiarities of the man to whom he is writing. If he understands
his hobbies, his cherished ambition, his home life, he can shape his appeal in
a more personal way. It is comparatively easy to secure such information
where salesmen are calling on the trade, and many large houses insist upon
their representatives’ making out very complete reports, giving a mass of
detailed information that will be valuable to the correspondent.
Then there is a third source of material, scarcely less important than the
study of the house and the customer, and that is a study of the
competitors—other firms who are in the same line of business and going
after the same trade. The broad-gauged correspondent never misses an
opportunity to learn more about the goods of competing houses—the
quality of their products, the extent of their lines, their facilities for
handling orders, the satisfaction that their goods are giving, the terms on
which they are sold and which managers are hustling and up to the minute
in their methods.
The correspondent can also find information, inspiration and suggestion
from the advertising methods of other concerns—not competitors but firms
in a similar line.
Then there are various miscellaneous sources of information. The majority of
correspondents study diligently the advertisements in general periodicals;
new methods and ideas are seized upon and filed in the “morgue” for further
reference.
Where a house travels a number of men, the sales department is an excellent
place from which to draw talking points. Interviewing salesmen as they
come in from trips and so getting direct information, brings out talking
points which are most helpful as are those secured by shorthand reports of
salesmen’s conventions.
Many firms get convincing arguments by the use of detailed forms asking for
reports on the product. One follow-up writer gets valuable pointers from
complaints which he terms “reverse” or “left-handed” talking points.
Some correspondents become adept in coupling up the news of the day with
their products. A thousand and one different events may be given a twist to
connect the reader’s interest with the house products and supply a reason
for “buying now.” The fluctuation in prices of raw materials, drought, late
seasons, railway rates, fires, bumper crops, political discussions, new
inventions, scientific achievements—there is hardly a happening that the
clever correspondent, hard pressed for new talking points, cannot work into
a sales letter as a reason for interesting the reader in his goods.
* * * * *
SOURCES OF MATERIAL:
/ 1. SOURCES
/ 1. RAW MATERIALS --| 2. QUALITY
| | 3. SUPPLY
| \ 4. PRICE
|
| / 1. CAPACITY OF
PLANT | PLANT
| | 2. NEW EQUIPMENT
| 2. PROCESSES OF --| 3. TIME SAVING
| MANUFACTURE | DEVICES
| \ 4. IMPROVED METHODS
/- 1. THE HOUSE------|
| | / 1. METHODS OF
| | | SALESMEN
| | 3. KNOWLEDGE OF --| 2. POLICY OF
| | DEPARTMENTS | CREDIT DEPT.
| | | 3. CONDITIONS IN
| | | RECEIVING &
| | \ SHIPPING DEPTS.
| |
| | 4. KNOWLEDGE OF
| | COSTS
| |
| | 5. STATUS OF / 1. CREDIT
| | CUSTOMER’S --| STANDING
| | ACCOUNT | 2. GROWING
| | \ BUSINESS
| |
| | / 1. OLD LETTERS
| | | 2. ADVERTISEMENTS
| | 6. DOCUMENTS --| 3. BOOKLETS,
| | | CIRCULARS, ETC.
| | \ 4. TESTIMONIALS
| |
| | / 1. ACQUAINTANCES
| | | OF OFFICERS
| \ 7. PERSONNEL OF --| 2. INTERESTS &
| FIRM | RELATIONS
| \ OF OFFICERS
|
| / 1. CHARACTER OR
|- 2. THE CUSTOMERS--| KIND OF BUSINESS
| |
| | 2. SIZE OF BUSINESS
| |
| | 3. LENGTH OF TIME
| | IN BUSINESS
| |
SOURCES | 4. LOCATION & LOCAL
OF | CONDITIONS
MATERIAL |
| | 5. COMPETITION
| |
| | 6. STANDING WITH
| | CUSTOMERS
| |
| | 7. METHODS & POLICIES
| |
| | 8. HOBBIES & PERSONAL
| \ PECULIARITIES
|
| / 1. QUALITY
| / 1. GOODS --| 2. EXTENT OF LINES
| | \ 3. NEW LINES
| |
| | / 1. TERMS
| | 2. POLICIES --| 2. TREATMENT OF
| | \ CUSTOMERS
| |
|- 3. COMPETITORS----| / 1. SIZE OF PLANT
| | 3. CAPACITY --| 2. EQUIPMENT
| | | 3. FACILITIES FOR
| | \ HANDLING ORDER
| |
| | / 1. NEW CAMPAIGNS
| \ 4. METHODS --| 2. ADVERTISING
| \ 3. AGGRESSIVENESS
|
| / 1. METHODS
| |
|- 4. OTHER METHODS--| 2. ADVERTISING
| (NOT |
| COMPETITORS) \ 3. SALES CAMPAIGNS
|
| / 1. METHODS
| / 1. SUPPLY HOUSES --\ 2. CAPACITY
| |
| | 2. GENERAL MARKET
\- 5. MISCELLANEOUS--| CONDITIONS
|
| 3. CURRENT EVENTS
|
| 4. ADVERTISING IN
\ GENERAL MAGAZINES
* * * * *
* * * * *
When you call on another person or meet him in a business transaction you
naturally have in mind a definite idea of what you want to accomplish. That
is, if you expect to carry your point. You know that this end cannot be
reached except by a presentation which will put your proposition in such a
favorable light, or offer such an inducement, or so mould the minds of others
to your way of thinking that they will agree with you. And so before you
meet the other person you proceed to plan your campaign, your talk, your
attitude to fit his personality and the conditions under which you expect to
meet.
An advertising man in an eastern mining town was commissioned to write a
series of letters to miners, urging upon them the value of training in a night
school about to be opened. Now he knew all about the courses the school
would offer and he was strong on generalities as to the value of education.
But try as he would, the letters refused to take shape. Then suddenly he
asked himself, “What type of man am I really trying to reach?”
And there lay the trouble. He had never met a miner face to face in his life.
As soon as he realized this he reached for his hat and struck out for the
nearest coal breaker. He put in two solid days talking with miners, getting a
line on the average of intelligence, their needs—the point of contact. Then
he came back and with a vivid picture of his man in mind, he produced a
series of letters that glowed with enthusiasm and sold the course.
A number of years ago a printer owning a small shop in an Ohio city set out
to find a dryer that would enable him to handle his work faster and without
the costly process of “smut-sheeting.” He interested a local druggist who
was something of a chemist and together they perfected a dryer that was
quite satisfactory and the printer decided to market his product. He wrote
fifteen letters to acquaintances and sold eleven of them. Encouraged, he got
out one hundred letters and sold sixty-four orders. On the strength of this
showing, his banker backed him for the cost of a hundred thousand letters
and fifty-eight thousand orders were the result.
The banker was interested in a large land company and believing the printer
must be a veritable wizard in writing letters, made him an attractive offer to
take charge of the advertising for the company’s Minnesota and Canada
lands.
The man sold his business, accepted the position—and made a signal failure.
He appealed to the printers because he knew their problems—the things
that lost them money, the troubles that caused them sleepless nights—and
in a letter that bristled with shop talk he went straight to the point, told
how he could help them out of at least one difficulty—and sold his product.
But when it came to selling western land he was out of his element. He had
never been a hundred miles away from his home town; he had never owned
a foot of real estate; “land hunger” was to him nothing but a phrase; the
opportunities of a “new country” were to him academic arguments—they
were not realities.
He lost his job. Discouraged but determined, he moved to Kansas where he
started a small paper—and began to study the real estate business. One
question was forever on his lips: “Why did you move out here?” And to
prospective purchasers, “Why do you want to buy Kansas land? What
attracts you?”
Month after month he asked these questions of pioneers and immigrants.
He wanted their viewpoint, the real motive that drove them westward.
Then he took in a partner, turned the paper over to him and devoted his
time to the real estate business. Today he is at the head of a great land
company and through his letters and his advertising matter he has sold
hundreds of thousands of acres to people who have never seen the land. But
he tells them the things they want to know; he uses the arguments that “get
under the skin.”
He spent years in preparing to write his letters and bought and sold land
with prospects “face to face” long before he attempted to deal with them by
letter. He talked and thought and studied for months before he dipped his
pen into ink.
Now before he starts a letter, he calls to mind someone to whom he has sold
a similar tract in the past; he remembers how each argument was received;
what appeals struck home and then, in his letter, he talks to that man just as
earnestly as if his future happiness depended upon making the one sale.
The preparation to write the letter should be two-fold: knowing your
product or proposition and knowing the man you want to reach. You have
got to see the proposition through the eyes of your prospect. The printer
sold his ink dryer because he looked at it from the angle of the buyer and
later he sold real estate, but not until he covered up his own interest and
presented the proposition from the viewpoint of the prospect.
Probably most successful letter writers, when they sit down to write,
consciously or unconsciously run back over faces and characteristics of
friends and acquaintances until they find someone who typifies the class
they desire to reach. When writing to women, one man always directs his
appeal to his mother or sister; if trying to interest young men he turns his
mind back to his own early desires and ambitions.
Visualize your prospect. Fix firmly in your mind some one who represents
the class you are trying to reach; forget that there is any other prospect in
the whole world; concentrate your attention and selling talk on this one
individual.
“If you are going to write letters that pull,” says one successful
correspondent, “you have got to be a regular spiritualist in order to
materialize the person to whom you are writing; bring him into your office
and talk to him face to face.”
“The first firm I ever worked for,” he relates, “was Andrew Campbell & Son.
The senior Campbell was a conservative old Scotchman who had made a
success in business by going cautiously and thoroughly into everything he
took up. The only thing that would appeal to him would be a proposition
that could be presented logically and with the strongest kind of arguments
to back it up. The son, on the other hand, was thoroughly American; ready
to take a chance, inclined to plunge and try out a new proposition because it
was new or unique; the novelty of a thing appealed to him and he was
interested because it was out of the ordinary.
“Whenever I have an important letter to write, I keep these two men in
mind and I center all my efforts to convince them; using practical,
commonsense arguments to convince the father, and enough snappy ‘try-it-
for-yourself’ talk to win the young man.”
According to this correspondent, every firm in a measure represents these
two forces, conservative and radical, and the strongest letter is the one that
makes an appeal to both elements.
A young man who had made a success in selling books by mail was offered
double the salary to take charge of the publicity department of a mail-order
clothing house. He agreed to accept—two months later. Reluctantly the
firm consented.
The firm saw or heard nothing from him until he reported for work. He had
been shrewd enough not to make the mistake of the printer who tried to sell
land and so he went to a small town in northern Iowa where a relative
owned a clothing store and started in as a clerk. After a month he jumped to
another store in southern Minnesota. At each place—typical country
towns—he studied the trade and when not waiting on customers busied
himself near some other clerk so he could hear the conversation, find out the
things the farmers and small town men looked for in clothes and learn the
talking points that actually sell the goods.
This man who had a position paying $6,000 a year waiting for him spent
two months at $9 a week preparing to write. A more conceited chap would
have called it a waste of time, but this man thought that he could well afford
to spend eight weeks and sacrifice nearly a thousand dollars learning to
write letters and advertisements that would sell clothes by mail.
At the end of the year he was given a raise that more than made up his loss.
Nor is he content, for every year he spends a few weeks behind the counter
in some small town, getting the viewpoint of the people with whom he
deals, finding a point of contact, getting local color and becoming familiar
with the manner of speech and the arguments that will get orders.
When he sits down to write a letter or an advertisement he has a vivid
mental picture of the man he wants to interest; he knows that man’s process
of thinking, the thing that appeals to him, the arguments that will reach
right down to his pocket-book.
A man who sells automatic scales to grocers keeps before him the image of a
small dealer in his home town. The merchant had fallen into the rut, the
dust was getting thicker on his dingy counters and trade was slipping away
to more modern stores.
“Mother used to send me on errands to that store when I was a boy,” relates
the correspondent, “and I had been in touch with it for twenty years. I knew
the local conditions; the growth of competition that was grinding out the
dealer’s life.
“I determined to sell him and every week he received a letter from the
house—he did not know of my connection with it—and each letter dealt
with some particular problem that I knew he had to face. I kept this up for
six months without calling forth a response of any kind; but after the
twenty-sixth letter had gone out, the manager came in one day with an
order—and the cash accompanied it. The dealer admitted that it was the
first time he had ever bought anything of the kind by mail. But I knew his
problems, and I connected them up with our scales in such a way that he had
to buy.
“Those twenty-six letters form the basis for all my selling arguments, for in
every town in the country there are merchants in this same rut, facing the
same competition, and they can be reached only by connecting their
problems with our scales.”
No matter what your line may be, you have got to use some such method if
you are going to make your letters pull the orders. Materialize your
prospect; overcome every objection and connect their problems with your
products.
When you sit down to your desk to write a letter, how do you get into the
right mood? Some, like mediums, actually work themselves into a sort of
trance before starting to write. One man insists that he writes good letters
only when he gets mad—which is his way of generating nervous energy.
Others go about it very methodically and chart out the letter, point by point.
They analyze the proposition and out of all the possible arguments and
appeals, carefully select those that their experience and judgment indicate
will appeal strongest to the individual whom they are addressing. On a
sheet of paper one man jots down the arguments that may be used and by a
process of elimination, scratches off one after another until he has left only
the ones most likely to reach his prospect.
Many correspondents keep within easy reach a folder or scrapbook of
particularly inspiring letters, advertisements and other matter gathered
from many sources. One man declares that no matter how dull he may feel
when he reaches the office in the morning he can read over a few pages in his
scrapbook and gradually feel his mind clear; his enthusiasm begins to rise
and within a half hour he is keyed up to the writing mood.
A correspondent in a large mail-order house keeps a scrapbook of
pictures—a portfolio of views of rural life and life in small towns. He
subscribes to the best farm papers and clips out pictures that are typical of
rural life, especially those that represent types and show activities of the
farm, the furnishings of the average farm house—anything that will make
clearer the environment of the men and women who buy his goods. When
he sits down to write a letter he looks through this book until he finds some
picture that typifies the man who needs the particular article he wants to
sell and then he writes to that man, keeping the picture before him, trying to
shape every sentence to impress such a person. Other correspondents are at
a loss to understand the pulling power of his letters.
A sales manager in a typewriter house keeps the managers of a score of
branch offices and several hundred salesmen gingered up by his weekly
letters. He prepares to write these letters by walking through the factory,
where he finds inspiration in the roar of machinery, the activity of
production, the atmosphere of actual creative work.
There are many sources of inspiration. Study your temperament, your work
and your customers to find out under what conditions your production is
the easiest and greatest. It is neither necessary nor wise to write letters
when energies and interest are at a low ebb, when it is comparatively easy to
stimulate the lagging enthusiasm and increase your power to write letters
that bring results.
_From its saluation to its signature a business letter must hold the
interest of the reader or fail in its purpose. The most important
sentence in it is obviously the_ FIRST _one, for upon it depends
whether the reader will dip further into the letter or discard it
into the waste basket_. IN THAT FIRST SENTENCE THE WRITER HAS
HIS
CHANCE. _If he is really capable, he will not only attract the
reader’s interest in that first sentence, but put him into a
receptive mood for the message that follows. Here are some sample
ways of “opening” a business letter_
* * * * *
No matter how large your tomorrow morning’s mail, it is probable that you
will glance through the first paragraph of every letter you open. If it catches
your attention by reference to something in which you are interested, or by
a clever allusion or a striking head line or some original style, it is probable
you will read at least the next paragraph or two. But if these paragraphs do
not keep up your interest the letter will be passed by unfinished. If you fail
to give the letter a full reading the writer has only himself to blame. He has
not taken advantage of his opportunity to carry your interest along and
develop it until he has driven his message home, point by point.
In opening the letter the importance of the salutation must not be ignored.
If a form letter from some one who does not know Mr. Brown, personally,
starts out “Dear Mr. Brown,” he is annoyed. A man with self-respect resents
familiarity from a total stranger—someone who has no interest in him
except as a possible customer for his commodity.
If a clerk should address a customer in such a familiar manner it would be
looked upon as an insult. Yet it is no uncommon thing to receive letters from
strangers that start out with one of these salutations:
“Dear Benson:”
“My dear Mr. Benson:”
“Respected Friend:”
“Dear Brother:”
While it is desirable to get close to the reader; and you want to talk to him
in a very frank manner and find a point of personal contact, this assumption
of friendship with a total stranger disgusts a man before he begins your
letter. You start out with a handicap that is hard to overcome, and an
examination of a large number of letters using such salutations are enough
to create suspicion for all; too often they introduce some questionable
investment proposition or scheme that would never appeal to the hard-
headed, conservative business man.
“Dear Sir” or “Gentlemen” is the accepted salutation, at least until long
correspondence and cordial relations justify a more intimate greeting. The
ideal opening, of course, strikes a happy medium between too great
formality on the one hand and a cringing servility or undue familiarity on
the other hand.
No one will dispute the statement that the reason so many selling
campaigns fail is not because of a lack of merit in the propositions
themselves but because they are not effectively presented.
For most business men read their letters in a receptive state of mind. The
letterhead may show that the message concerns a duplicating machine and
the one to whom it is addressed may feel confident in his own mind that he
does not want a duplicating machine. At the same time he is willing to read
the letter, for it may give him some new idea, some practical suggestion as to
how such a device would be a good investment and make money for him. He
is anxious to learn how the machine may be related to his particular
problems. But it is not likely that he has time or sufficient interest to wade
through a long letter starting out:
“We take pleasure in sending you under separate cover catalogue of our
latest models of Print-Quicks, and we are sure it will prove of interest to
you.”
* * * * *
“We have your valued inquiry of recent date, and we take pleasure in
acknowledging,” and so forth.
* * * * *
Suppose the letter replying to his inquiry starts out in this style:
“The picture on page 5 of our catalogue is a pretty fair one, but I wish you
could see the desk itself.”
* * * * *
* * * * *
“If we were to offer you a hundred-dollar bill as a gift we take it for granted
that you would be interested. If, then, our goods will mean to you many
times that sum every year isn’t the proposition still more interesting? Do you
not want us to demonstrate what we say? Are you not willing to invest a
little of your time watching this demonstration?”
* * * * *
“If this letter were printed on ten-dollar bills it could scarcely be more
valuable to you than the offer it now contains. You want money; we want
your business. Let’s go into partnership.”
* * * * *
“If your press feeders always showed up on Monday morning; if they were
never late, never got tired, never became careless, never grumbled about
working overtime, you would increase the output of your plant, have less
trouble, make more money—that is why you will be interested in the
Speedwell Automatic feeding attachment.”
* * * * *
This paragraph summarizes many of the troubles of the employing printer.
It “gets under his skin,” it is graphic, depicting one of the greatest problems
of his business and so he is certain to read the letter and learn more about
the solution that it offers.
This same paragraph might also be used as a good illustration of that
effective attention-getter, the quick appeal to the problems that are of most
concern to the reader. The one great trouble with the majority of letters is
that they start out with “we” and from first to last have a selfish viewpoint:
“We have your valued inquiry of recent date and, as per your request, we
take pleasure in enclosing herewith a copy of our latest catalogue,” and so
forth.
* * * * *
Don’t begin by talking about yourself, your company, your business, your
growth, your progress, your improved machinery, your increased
circulation, your newly invested capital. The reader has not the faintest
interest in you or your business until he can see some connection between it
and his own welfare. By itself it makes no play whatever to his attention; it
must first be coupled up with his problems and his needs.
Begin by talking about him, his company, his business, his progress, his
troubles, his disappointments, his needs, his ambition.
That is where he lives day and night. Knock at that door and you will find
him at home. Touch upon some vital need in his business— some defect or
tangle that is worrying him—some weak spot that he wants to remedy—
some cherished ambition that haunts him—and you will have rung the bell
of his interest. A few openings that are designed to get the reader’s attention
and induce him to read farther, are shown here:
“Your letter reached me at a very opportune time as I have been looking for a
representative in your territory.”
* * * * *
“By using this code you can telegraph us for any special article you want and
it will be delivered at your store the following morning. This will enable
you to compete with the large mail-order houses. It will give you a service
that will mean more business and satisfied customers.”
* * * * *
“You can save the wages of one salesman in every department of your store.
Just as you save money by using a typewriter, addressograph, adding
machine, cash register and other modern equipments, so you can save it by
installing a Simplex.”
* * * * *
“Don’t you want to know how to add two thousand square feet of display to
some department of your store in exchange for twenty feet of wall?”
* * * * *
“Yes, there is a mighty good opening in your territory for hustling salesmen.
You will receive a complete outfit by express so you can start at once.”
* * * * *
Keep the interest of the reader in mind. No matter how busy he is, he will
find time to read your letter if you talk about his problems and his welfare.
Some correspondents, having taken only the first lesson in business letter
writing, over-shoot the mark with a lot of “hot air” that is all too apparent.
Here is the opening paragraph from one of these writers:
* * * * *
As a matter of fact, the gentleman to whom this letter was sent had written
with a lead pencil on a post card asking for further particulars regarding
propositions to salesmen. It is a good illustration of the form letter gone
wrong. The inquirer had not written a concise and business-like letter and
there was not the slightest reason why the firm should send him a personal
and confidential proposition and if the proposition were really confidential,
it would not be printed in a circular letter.
Here is the opening paragraph of a letter typical in its lack of originality and
attention-getting qualities:
“We are in receipt of yours of recent date and in reply wish to state that you
will find under separate cover a copy of our latest catalogue, illustrating and
describing our Wonder Lighting System. We are sure the information
contained in this catalogue will be of interest to you.”
* * * * *
“The catalogue is too large to enclose with this letter and so you will find it
in another envelope. You will find on page 4 a complete description of the
Wonder System of Lighting, explaining just how it will cut down your light
bill. This system is adapted to use in stores, factories, public halls and
homes—no matter what you want you will find it listed in this catalogue.”
* * * * *
“In our fathers’ day, you know, all fine tableware was hand forged—that
meant quality but high cost.”
* * * * *
The opening statement secures the assent of the reader even before he
knows what the proposition is. Sometimes an allusion may be introduced
that does not come home so pointedly to the reader but the originality of the
idea appeals to him. By its very cleverness he is led to read further. Here is
the beginning of a letter sent out by an advertising man and commercial
letter writer:
“The Prodigal Son might have started home much sooner had he received an
interesting letter about the fatted calf that awaited his coming.
“The right sort of a letter would have attracted his attention, aroused his
interest, created a desire and stimulated him to action.”
* * * * *
Then there is the opening that starts out with an appeal to human interest.
It is the one opening where the writer can talk about himself and still get
attention and work up interest:
“Let me tell you how I got into the mail order business and made so much
money out of it.”
* * * * *
“I wish I could have had the opportunity thirty years ago that you have
today. Did I ever tell you how I started out?”
* * * * *
* * * * *
“I was talking to Mr. Phillips, the president of our institution, this morning,
and he told me that you had written to us concerning our correspondence
course.”
* * * * *
These personal touches bring the writer and reader close together and pave
the way for a man-to-man talk.
Then there is a way of getting attention by some novel idea, something
unusual in the typography of the letter, some unusual idea. One mail-order
man puts these two lines written with a typewriter across the top of his
letterheads:
* * * * *
Few men would receive a letter like that without taking the time to read it,
at least hurriedly, and if the rest of the argument is presented with equal
force the message is almost sure to be carried home.
Another mail-order house sending out form letters under one-cent postage,
inserts this sentence directly under the date line, to the right of the name
and address:
“Leaving our letter unsealed for postal inspection is the best proof that our
goods are exactly as represented.”
* * * * *
The originality of the idea impresses one. There is no danger that the letter
will be shunted into the waste basket without a reading.
There are times when it is necessary to disarm the resentment of the reader
in the very first paragraph, as, for instance, when there has been a delay in
replying to a letter. An opening that is all too common reads:
“I have been so extremely busy that your letter has not received my
attention.”
* * * * *
“Pardon delay. I have been so much engaged with other matters that I have
not found time to write you.”
* * * * *
The considerate correspondent is always careful that his opening does not
rub the wrong way. One writer starts out by saying:
“You have certainly been very patient with me in the matter of your order
and I wish to thank you for this.”
* * * * *
Here are the first five paragraphs of a two-page letter from an investment
firm. The length of the letter is greatly against it and the only hope the
writer could have, would be in getting the attention firmly in the opening
paragraph:
* * * * *
The letter is not lacking in style; the writer knows how to put things
forcibly, but he takes up half a page of valuable space before he says
anything vital to his subject. See how much stronger his letter would have
been had he started with the fifth paragraph, following it with the fourth
paragraph.
The great weakness in many letters is padding out the introduction with
non-essential material. It takes the writer too long to get down to his
proposition. Here is a letter from a concern seeking to interest agents:
“We are in receipt of your valued inquiry and we enclose herewith full
information in regard to the E. Z. Washing Compound and our terms to
agents.
“We shall be pleased to mail you a washing sample post-paid on receipt of
four cents in two-cent stamps or a full size can for ten cents, which amount
you may subtract from your first order, thus getting the sample free. We
would like to send you a sample without requiring any deposit but we have
been so widely imposed upon by ‘sample grafters’ in the past that we can no
longer afford to do this.”
* * * * *
The first paragraph is hackneyed and written from the standpoint of the
writer rather than that of the reader. The second paragraph is a joke. Seven
lines, lines that ought to be charged with magnetic, interest-getting
statements, are devoted to explaining why ten cents’ worth of samples are
not sent free, but that this “investment” will be deducted from the first
order. What is the use of saving a ten-cent sample if you lose the interest of
a possible agent, whose smallest sales would amount to several times this
sum?
It is useless to spend time and thought in presenting your proposition and
working in a clincher unless you get attention and stimulate the reader’s
interest in the beginning. Practically everyone will read your opening
paragraph—whether he reads further will depend upon those first
sentences.
Do not deceive yourself by thinking that because your proposition is
interesting to you, it will naturally be interesting to others. Do not put all
your thought on argument and inducements—the man to whom you are
writing may never read that far.
Lead up to your proposition from the reader’s point of view; couple up your
goods with his needs; show him where he will benefit and he will read your
letter through to the postscript. Get his attention and arouse his interest—
then you are ready to present your proposition.
_After attention has been secured, you must lead quickly to your
description and explanation; visualize your product and introduce
your proof, following this up with arguments. The art of the letter
writer is found in his ability to lead the reader along, paragraph
by paragraph, without a break in the_ POINT of CONTACT _that has
been established. Then the proposition must be presented so clearly
that there is no possibility of its being misunderstood, and the
product or the service must be coupled up with the_ READER’S NEEDS
How this can be done is described in this chapter
* * * * *
After you have attracted attention and stimulated the interest of the reader,
you have made a good beginning, but only a beginning; you then have the
hard task of holding that interest, explaining your proposition, pointing out
the superiority of the goods or the service that you are trying to sell and
making an inducement that will bring in the orders. Your case is in court,
the jury has been drawn, the judge is attentive and the opposing counsel is
alert—it is up to you to prove your case.
Good business letter, consciously or unconsciously usually contains four
elements: description, explanation, argument and persuasion. These factors
may pass under different names, but they are present and most
correspondents will include two other elements—inducement and clincher.
In this chapter we will consider description, explanation and argument as
the vehicles one may use in carrying his message to the reader.
An essential part of all sales letters is a clear description of the article or
goods—give the prospect a graphic idea of how the thing you are trying to
sell him looks, and this description should follow closely after the interest-
getting introduction. To describe an article graphically one has got to know
it thoroughly: the material of which it is made; the processes of
manufacture; how it is sold and shipped—every detail about it.
There are two extremes to which correspondents frequently go. One makes
the description too technical, using language and terms that are only
partially understood by the reader. He does not appreciate that the man to
whom he is writing may not understand the technical or colloquial language
that is so familiar to everyone in the house.
For instance, if a man wants to install an electric fan in his office, it would
be the height of folly to write him a letter filled with technical descriptions
about the quality of the fan, the magnetic density of the iron that is used, the
quality of the insulation, the kilowatts consumed—“talking points” that
would be lost on the average business man. The letter that would sell him
would give specific, but not technical information, about how the speed of
the fan is easily regulated, that it needs to be oiled but once a year, and costs
so much a month to operate. These are the things in which the prospective
customer is interested.
Then there is the correspondent whose descriptions are too vague; too
general—little more than bald assertions. A letter from a vacuum cleaner
manufacturing company trying to interest agents is filled with such
statements as: “This is the best hand power machine ever manufactured,” “It
is the greatest seller ever produced,” “It sells instantly upon demonstration.”
No one believes such exaggerations as these. Near the end of the letter—
where the writer should be putting in his clincher, there is a little specific
information stating that the device weighs only five pounds, is made of good
material and can be operated by a child. If this paragraph had followed
quickly after the introduction and had gone into further details, the
prospect might have been interested, but it is probable that the majority of
those who received the letter never read as far as the bottom of the second
page.
If a man is sufficiently interested in a product to write for catalogue and
information, or if you have succeeded in getting his attention in the opening
paragraph of a sales letter, he is certain to read a description that is specific
and definite.
The average man thinks of a work bench as a work bench and would be at a
loss to describe one, but he has a different conception after reading these
paragraphs from a manufacturer’s letter:
* * * * *
“The celebrated Imperial Wheel Bearings are used, These do not need to be
oiled oftener than once in six months.”
* * * * *
A correspondent who knew how to throw light into dark places said:
* * * * *
This “and forget” is such a clever stroke that you are carried on through the
rest of the letter, and you are not bored with the figures and detailed
description.
In a similar way a sales manager, in writing the advertising matter for a
motor cycle, leads up to his description of the motor and its capacity by the
brief statement: “No limit to speed but the law.” This is a friction clutch on
the imagination that carries the reader’s interest to the end.
One writer avoids bringing technical descriptions into his letters, at the
same time carrying conviction as to the quality of his goods:
“This metal has been subjected to severe accelerated corrosion tests held in
accordance with rigid specifications laid down by the American Society for
Testing Material, and has proven to corrode much less than either charcoal
iron, wrought iron, or steel sheet.
“A complete record of these tests and results will be found on the enclosed
sheet.”
* * * * *
Then there are times when description may be almost entirely eliminated
from the letter. For instance, if you are trying to sell a man a house and lot
and he has been out to look at the place and has gone over it thoroughly,
there is little more that you can say in the way of description. Your letter
must deal entirely with arguments as to why he should buy now—
persuasion, inducement. Or, if you are trying to sell him the typewriter that
he has been trying out in his office for a month, description is unnecessary—
the load your letter must carry is lightened. And there are letters in which
explanation is unnecessary. If you are trying to get a man to order a suit of
clothes by mail, you will not explain the use of clothes but you will bear
down heavily on the description of the material that you put into these
particular garments and point out why it is to his advantage to order direct
of the manufacturers.
But if you are presenting a new proposition, it is necessary to explain its
nature, its workings, its principles and appliances. If you are trying to sell a
fountain pen you will not waste valuable space in explaining to the reader
what a fountain pen is good for and why he should have one, but rather you
will give the reasons for buying your particular pen in preference to others.
You will explain the self-filling feature and the new patent which prevents
its leaking or clogging.
It is not always possible to separate description and explanation. Here is an
illustration taken from a letter sent out by a mail-order shoe company:
“I hope your delay in ordering is not the result of any lack of clear
information about Wearwells. Let me briefly mention some of the features
of Wearwell shoes that I believe warrant you in favoring us with your order:
(A) Genuine custom style;
(B) Highest grade material and workmanship;
(C) The best fit—thanks to our quarter-sized system—that it is
possible to obtain in shoes;
(D) Thorough foot comfort and long wear;
(E) Our perfect mail-order service; and
(F) The guaranteed PROOF OF QUALITY given in the
specification tag sent with every pair.”
* * * * *
This is a concise summary of a longer description that had been given in a
previous letter and it explains why the shoes will give satisfaction.
Here is the paragraph by which the manufacturer of a time-recording
device, writing about the advantages of his system puts in explanation plus
argument:
“Every employee keeps his own time and cannot question his own record.
All mechanism is hidden and locked. Nothing can be tampered with. The
clock cannot be stopped. The record cannot be beaten.
“This device fits into any cost system and gives an accurate record of what
time every man puts on every job. It serves the double purpose of furnishing
you a correct time-on-job cost and prevents loafing. It stops costly leaks and
enables you to figure profit to the last penny.”
* * * * *
Explanation may run in one of many channels. It may point out how the
careful selection of raw material makes your product the best, or how the
unusual facilities of your factory or the skill of your workmen, or the system
of testing the parts assures the greatest value. You might explain why the
particular improvements and the patents on your machines make it better
or give it greater capacity. The description and the explanation must of
necessity depend upon the character of the proposition, but it may be laid
down as a general principle that the prospect must be made to understand
thoroughly just what the article is for, how it is made, how it looks, how it is
used, and what its points of superiority are. Whenever possible, the
description and explanation in the letter should be reinforced by samples or
illustrations that will give a more graphic idea of the product.
The prospect may be sufficiently familiar with the thing you are selling to
relieve you of the necessity of describing and explaining, although usually
these supports are necessary for a selling campaign. But it must be
remembered that description and explanation alone do not make a strong
appeal to the will. They may arouse interest and excite desire but they do
not carry conviction as argument does. Some letters are full of explanation
and description but lack argument. The repair man from the factory may
give a good explanation of how a machine works, but the chances are he
would fall down in trying to sell the machine, unless he understood how to
reinforce his explanations with a salesman’s ability to use argument and
persuasion.
And so you must look well to your arguments, and the arguments that
actually pull the most orders consist of proofs—cold, hard logic and facts
that cannot be questioned. As you hope for the verdict of the jury you must
prove your case. It is amazing how many correspondents fail to appreciate
the necessity for arguments. Pages will be filled with assertions, superlative
adjectives, boastful claims of superiority, but not one sentence that offers
proof of any statement, not one logical reason why the reader should be
interested.
“We know you will make a mint of money if you put in our goods.” “This is
the largest and most complete line in the country.” “Our factory has doubled
its capacity during the last three years.” “Our terms are the most liberal that
have ever been offered.” “You are missing the opportunity of your lifetime if
you do not accept this proposition.” “We hope to receive your order by
return mail, for you will never have such a wonderful opportunity again.”
Such sentences fill the pages of thousands of letters that are mailed every
day.
“Our system of inspection with special micrometer gauges insures all parts
being perfect—within one-thousandth of an inch of absolute accuracy. This
means, too, any time you want an extra part of your engine for replacement
that you can get it and that it will fit. If we charged you twice as much for
the White engine, we could not give you better material or workmanship.”
* * * * *
Now this is an argument that is worth while: that the parts of the engine are
so accurately ground that repairs can be made quickly, and new parts will
fit without a moment’s trouble. The last sentence of the paragraph is of
course nothing but assertion, but it is stated in a way that carries
conviction. Many correspondents would have bluntly declared that this was
the best engine ever manufactured, or something of that kind, and made no
impression at all on the minds of the readers. But the statement that the
company could not make a better engine, even if it charged twice as much,
sinks in.
Proof of quality is always one of the strongest arguments that can be used. A
man wants to feel sure that he is given good value for his money, it matters
not whether he is buying a lead pencil or an automobile. And next to
argument of quality is the argument of price. Here are some striking
paragraphs taken from the letter sent out by a firm manufacturing gummed
labels and advertising stickers:
“We would rather talk quality than price because no other concern prints
better stickers than ours—but we can’t help talking price because no other
concern charges as little for them as we do.”
* * * * *
* * * * *
If you were in the market for labels you would not hesitate to send an order
to that firm, for the writer gives you satisfying reasons for the quality and
the low price of his goods. The argument in favor of its goods is presented
clearly, concisely, convincingly.
The argument that will strike home to the merchant is one that points out
his opportunity for gain. Here is the way a wholesale grocer presented his
proposition on a new brand of coffee:
“You put in this brand of coffee and we stand back of you and push sales.
Our guarantee of quality goes with every pound we put out. Ask the
opinion of all your customers. If there is the least dissatisfaction, refund
them the price of their coffee and deduct it from our next bill. So confident
are we of the satisfaction that this coffee will give that we agree to take back
at the end of six months all the remaining stock you have on hand—that is,
if you do not care to handle the brand longer.
“You have probably never sold guaranteed coffee before. You take no
chances. The profit is as large as on other brands, and your customers will
be impressed with the guarantee placed on every pound.”
* * * * *
The guarantee and the offer of the free trial are possibly the two strongest
arguments that can be used either with a dealer or in straight mail-order
selling.
Among the arguments that are most effective are testimonials and references
to satisfied users. If the writer can refer to some well-known firm or
individual as a satisfied customer he strengthens his point.
* * * * *
Such extracts as these are intended to impress upon the inventor the
desirability of placing his business with someone who has such a wide
acquaintance and is in a position to put him in touch with manufacturers.
To send a list of references may also prove a most convincing argument,
especially if the writer can refer to some man or firm located near the one to
whom he is writing. A mutual acquaintance forms a sort of connecting link
that is a pulling force even though the reference is never looked up. In fact, it
is only on occasions that references of this kind are investigated, for the
mere naming of banks and prominent business men is sufficient to inspire
confidence that the proposition is “on the square.”
After you have explained your proposition, described your goods and
pointed out to the prospect how it is to his advantage to possess these
goods, the time has come to make him an offer.
One of the pathetic sins of business letter writers is to work in the price too
early in the letter—before the prospect is interested in the proposition. The
clever salesman always endeavors to work up one’s interest to the highest
possible pitch before price is mentioned at all. Many solicitors consider it so
essential to keep the price in the background until near the end of the
canvass that they artfully dodge the question, “What is the cost?”, until they
think the prospect is sufficiently interested not to “shy” when the figure is
mentioned.
A letter from a company seeking to interest agents starts out awkwardly
with a long paragraph:
* * * * *
“Did you get our circular describing the merits of our celebrated
Wonderdown Mattresses which cost, full size, $10 each?”
* * * * *
* * * * *
Nothing will take the place of arguments and logical reasons in selling an
article or a service. But most salesmen will bear out the statement that few
orders would be taken unless persuasion and inducement are brought into
play to get the prospect’s name onto the dotted line. Persuasion alone sells
few goods outside of the church fair but it helps out the arguments and
proofs. The collector’s troubles come mainly from sales that are made by
persuasion, for the majority of men who are convinced by sound arguments
and logical reasons to purchase a machine or a line of goods carry out their
part of the bargain if they can.
There are a good many correspondents who are clever enough in presenting
their proposition, but display a most limited knowledge of human nature in
using persuasions that rubs the prospect the wrong way.
“Why will you let a few dollars stand between you and success? Why waste
your time, wearing yourself out working for others? Why don’t you throw
off the conditions which bind you down to a small income? Why don’t you
shake off the shackles? Why don’t you rise to the opportunity that is now
presented to you?”
* * * * *
Such a letter is an insult to anyone who receives it, for it really tells him that
he is a “mutt” and does not know it. Compare the preceding paragraph with
this forceful appeal:
“Remember, the men now in positions you covet did not tumble into them
by accident. At one time they had nothing more to guide them than an
opportunity exactly like this one. Someone pointed out to them the
possibilities and they took the chance and gradually attained their present
success. Have you the courage to make the start, grasp an opportunity, work
out your destiny in this same way?”
* * * * *
“We strongly advise that you get a piece of this land at once. It is bound to
increase in value. You can’t lose. Won’t you cast your lot with us now? It is
your last opportunity to get a piece of this valuable land at this extremely
low price. Take our word for it and make your decision now before it is too
late.”
* * * * *
A manufacturer of folding machines got away from this attitude and cleverly
combined persuasion and inducement in an offer made to newspaper
publishers during the month of October:
“You want to try this folder thoroughly before you buy it and no better test
can be given than during the holiday season when heavy advertising
necessitates large editions. Now, if you will put in one of these folders right
away and use it every week, we will extend our usual sixty-day terms to
January 15th. This will enable you to test it out thoroughly and, furthermore,
you will not have to make the first payment until you have opportunity to
make collections for the December advertising. This proposition must be
accepted before Oct. 31st.”
* * * * *
“There is no better time to start in this business than right now. People
always spend money freely just before the holidays—get in the game and get
your share of this loose coin. Remember, we ship the day the order comes in.
Send us your order this afternoon and the goods will be at your door day
after tomorrow. You can have several hundred dollars in the bank by this
time next week. Why not? All you need to do is to make the decision now.
“Unless you are blind or pretty well crippled up, you needn’t expect that
people will come around and drop good money into your hat. But they will
loosen up if you go out after them with a good proposition such as this—
and provided you get to them before the other fellow. The whole thing is to
get started. Get in motion! Get busy! If you don’t want to take time to write,
telegraph at our expense. It doesn’t make much difference how you start,
the thing is to start. Are you with us?”
* * * * *
Now, there really is nothing in these two paragraphs except a little ginger,
and a good deal of slang, but this may prove the most effective stimulant to a
man’s energy, the kind of persuasion to get him in motion.
One thing to be constantly guarded against is exaggeration—“laying it on
too thick.” Concerns selling goods on the instalment basis through agents
who are paid on commission, find their hardest problem is to collect money
where the proposition was painted in too glowing colors. The
representative, thinking only of his commission on the sale, puts the
proposition too strong, makes the inducement so alluring that the goods do
not measure up to the salesman’s claims.
Then the correspondent should be careful not to put the inducement so
strong that it will attract out of curiosity rather than out of actual intent.
Many clever advertisements pull a large number of inquiries but few sales
are made. It is a waste of time and money to use an inducement that does
not stimulate an actual interest. Many a mailing list is choked with
deadwood—names that represent curiosity seekers and the company loses
on both hands, for it costs money to get those names on the list and it costs
more money to get them off the list.
The correspondent should never attempt to persuade a man by assuming an
injured attitude. Because a man answers an advertisement or writes for
information, does not put him under the slightest obligation to purchase the
goods and he cannot be shamed into parting with his money by such a
paragraph as this:
“Do you think you have treated us fairly in not replying to our letters? We
have written to you time and again just as courteously as we know how; we
have asked you to let us know whether or not you are interested; we have
tried to be perfectly fair and square with you; and yet you have not done us
the common courtesy of replying. Do you think this is treating us just right?
Don’t you think you ought to write us, and if you are not intending to buy,
to let us know the reason?”
* * * * *
If the recipient reads that far down into his letter, it will only serve to make
him mad. No matter what inducement the company may make him later, it
is not probable that it can overcome the prejudice that such an insulting
paragraph will have created.
Some of the correspondence schools understand how to work in persuasion
cleverly and effectively. Here is a paragraph that is dignified and persuasive:
“Remember also that this is the best time of the entire year to get good
positions, as wholesalers and manufacturers all over the country will put on
thousands of new men for the coming season. We are receiving inquiries
right along from the best firms in the country who ask us to provide them
with competent salesmen. We have supplied them with so many good men
that they always look to us when additional help is required, and just now
the demand is so great that we can gurantee you a position if you start the
course this month.”
* * * * *
“It was necessary to place this large order in order to secure the sets at the
lowest possible figure. Knowing that this number will exceed our weekly
sales, we have decided to offer these extra sets to some of the ambitious
young men who have been writing to us. If you will fill out the enclosed
scholarship blank and mail at once we will send you one of these handsome
sets FREE, express prepaid. But this offer must be accepted before the last
of the month. At the rate the scholarship blanks are now coming in, it is
more than likely that the available sets will be exhausted before November
1st. It is necessary therefore that you send us your application at once.”
* * * * *
“Thanking you for your inquiry and hoping to be favored with your order,
and assuring you it will be fully appreciated and receive our careful
attention, we are.”
* * * * *
Such a paragraph pulls few orders. Compare the foregoing with the one that
fairly galvanizes the reader into immediate action:
“Send us a $2.00 bill now. If you are not convinced that this file is the best
$2.00 investment ever made, we will refund your money for the mere asking.
Send today, while you have it in mind.”
* * * * *
Here is a paragraph not unlike the close of dozens of letters that you read
every week:
“Trusting that we may hear from you in the near future and hoping we
will have the pleasure of numbering you among our customers, we
are,”
* * * * *
Such a close invites delay in answering. It is an order killer; it smothers
interest, it delays action. But here is a close that is likely to bring the order if
the desire has been created.
“Simply wrap a $1.00 bill in this letter and send to us at our risk.”
* * * * *
A writer who does not understand the psychology of suggestion writes this
unfortunate closing paragraph:
“Will you not advise us at an early date whether or not you are interested in
our proposition? As you have not replied to our previous letters, we begin to
fear that you do not intend to avail yourself of this wonderful opportunity,
and we would be very glad to have you write us if this is a fact.”
* * * * *
How foolish to help along one’s indifference by the suggestion that he is not
interested. Just as long as you spend postage on a prospect treat him as a
probable customer. Assume that he is interested; take it for granted that
there is some reason why he has not replied and present new arguments,
new persuasion, new inducements for ordering now.
A firm handling a line very similar to that of the firm which sent out the
letter quoted above, always maintains the attitude that the prospect is going
to order some time and its close fairly bristles with “do it now” hooks:
“Step right over to the telegraph office and send us your order by telegraph
at our expense. With this business, every day’s delay means loss of dollars to
you. Stop the leak! Save the dollars! Order today!”
* * * * *
“Should you not be in the market at the present time for anything in our line
of work, we would esteem it a great favor to us if you would file this letter
and let us hear from you when needing anything in the way of engraving. If
you will let us know when you are ready for something in this line we will
deem it a privilege to send a representative to call on you.
“Trusting we have not made ourselves forward in this matter and
hoping that we may hear from you, we are,”
* * * * *
It is a safe prediction that this letter was written by a new sales manager
who will soon be looking for another job. Such an apologetic note, with
such a lack of selling talk, such a street beggar attitude could never escape
the waste basket. The salesman who starts out by saying, “You wouldn’t be
interested in this book, would you?” takes no orders. The letter that comes
apologizing and excusing itself before it gets our attention, and, if it gets our
attention, then lets down just as we are ready to sign an order, is headed
straight for the car wheel plant.
Avoid in the closing paragraph, as far as possible, the participial phrases
such as “Thanking you,” “Hoping to be favored,” “Assuring you of our
desire,” and so forth. Say instead, “We thank you,” “It is a pleasure to assure
you,” or “May I not hear from you by return mail?” Such a paragraph is
almost inevitably an anti-climax; it affords too much of a let-down to the
proposition.
One of the essentials to the clinching of an order is the enclosures such as
order blanks and return envelopes—subjects that are sufficiently important
to call for separate chapters.
The essential thing to remember in working up to the climax is to make it a
climax; to keep up the reader’s interest, to insert a hook that will get the
man’s order before his desire has time to cool off. Your proposition is not a
fireless cooker that will keep his interest warm for a long time after the heat
of your letter has been removed—and it will be just that much harder to
warm him up the second time. Insert the hook that will get the order NOW,
for there will never be quite such a favorable time again.
“STYLE” In Letter Writing—
And How To Acquire It
* * * * *
* * * * *
THE LETTER
THE VEHICLE
WORDS
SHORT
SAXON
SPECIFIC
INDIVIDUAL
PHRASES
VIVID
NATURAL
FIGURES
IDIOMS
SENTENCES
CLEAR
FORCEFUL
CLIMATIC
POLISHED
PARAGRAPHS
SHORT
UNIFORM
LOGICAL
ORDERLY
THE LOAD
IDEAS
GRAPHIC
TECHNICAL
CLEAR
COMPLETE
STATEMENTS
FACTS
PROOFS
REFERENCES
TESTIMONY
EXPLANATIONS
SPECIFIC
TECHNICAL
CLEAR
COMPLETE
ARGUMENTS
LOGICAL
CLIMATIC
CONCLUSIVE
CONVINCING
_There are two elements in every letter: the thought and the
language in which that thought is expressed. The words, phrases,
sentences and paragraphs are the vehicle which carries the
load—explanations, arguments, appeal. Neither can be neglected if
the letter is to pull_
* * * * *
Here is another sentence showing the force to be attained through the use of
a long sentence: “Just as the physician may read medicine, just as the lawyer
may read law, just so may a man now read business—the science of the
game which enables some men to succeed where hosts of others fail; it is no
longer enveloped in mystery and in darkness.” There is no danger of the
reader’s becoming confused in the meaning and he is more deeply impressed
because his interest has been gained by the gradual unfolding of the idea
back of the sentence, the leading up to the important thought.
And after the choice of words, the placing of words and the construction of
a sentence comes that other essential element of style—the use of figures of
speech, the illustrating of one’s thought by some apt allusion. Comparison
adds force by giving the reader a mental picture of the unknown, by
suggestions of similarity to familiar things. The language of the street, our
conversational language, secures its color and expressiveness through
figures of speech—the clever simile and the apt metaphor light up a
sentence and lift it out of the commonplace.
“Don’t hold yourself down,” “Don’t be bottled up,” “Don’t keep your nose on
the grindstone”—these are the forceful figures used in the letters of a
correspondence school. The most ignorant boy knows that the writer did
not mean to be taken literally. Such figures are great factors in business
letters because they make the meaning clear.
Here is the attention-getting first sentence of another letter:
“Don’t lull yourself to sleep with the talk that well enough should be let
alone when practical salary-raising, profit-boosting help is within your
reach.” The sentence is made up of figures; you do not literally lull yourself
to sleep with talk, you don’t really boost profits, you don’t actually reach out
and grasp the help the letter offers. The figures merely suggest ideas, but
they are vivid.
A sales manager writes to the boys on the road regarding a contest or a spurt
for records: “Come on, boys. This is the last turn round the track. The track
was heavy at the start but if none of you break on the home stretch you are
bound to come under the wire with a good record.” The salesman will read
this sort of a letter and be inspired by its enthusiasm, when the letter would
be given no more than a hurried glance if it said what it really means: “Get
busy! Keep on the job! Send in more orders.” By framing your ideas in
artistic figures of speech you bring out their colors, their lines, their fullest
meanings—and more than that, you know your letters will be read.
But in the attempt to add grace and attractiveness by some familiar allusion,
one must not overlook the importance of facts—cold, plainly stated facts,
which are often the shortest, most convincing argument. In the letter of an
advertising concern is this plain statement: “Last year our business was
$2,435,893 ahead of the year before.” No figure of speech, no touch of the
stylist could make such a profound impression as this brief, concise
statement of fact.
The average correspondent will agree that these are all essential elements of
style—his problem is practical: how can he find the right words; how can he
learn to put his proposition more clearly; how think up figures of speech
that will light up the thought or illustrate the proportion.
To some men an original style and the ability to write convincingly is a
birthright. Others have to depend less on inspiration and more on hard
work. One man carries a note book in which he jots down, for future use,
phrases, words and comparisons that he comes across while reading his
morning paper on the way down town, while going through his
correspondence, while listening to callers, while talking with friends at
lunch, while attending some social affair—wherever he is, his eyes and ears
are always alert to catch a good phrase, an unusual expression or a new
figure of speech. At his first opportunity a notation is made in the ever-
handy memorandum book.
Another man systematically reads articles by Elbert Hubbard, Alfred Henry
Lewis, Samuel Blythe and other writers whose trenchant pens replenish his
storage with similes, metaphors and crisp expressions.
The head of a mail-order sales department of a large publishing house keeps
a scrapbook in which he pastes words, phrases, striking sentences and
comparisons clipped from letters, advertisements, booklets, circulars, and
other printed matter. Each month he scans the advertisements in a dozen
magazines and with a blue pencil checks every expression that he thinks
may some time be available or offer a suggestion. It is but a few minutes’
work for a girl to clip and paste in these passages and his scrapbooks are an
inexhaustible mine of ideas and suggestions.
Another man, after outlining his ideas, dictates a letter and then goes over it
sentence by sentence and word by word. With a dictionary and book of
synonyms he tries to strengthen each word; he rearranges the words, writes
and rewrites the sentences, eliminating some, reinforcing others and
devising new ones until he has developed his idea with the precision of an
artist at work on a drawing.
The average correspondent, handling a large number of letters daily, has
little time to develop ideas for each letter in this way, but by keeping before
him a list of new words and phrases and figures of speech, they soon become
a part of his stock in trade. Then there are other letters to write—big selling
letters that are to be sent out by the thousands and letters that answer
serious complaints, letters that call for diplomacy, tact, and above all,
clearness and force.
On these important letters the correspondent can well afford to spend time
and thought and labor. A day or several days may be devoted to one letter,
but the thoughts that are turned over—the ideas that are considered, the
sentences that are written and discarded, the figures that are tried out—are
not wasted, but are available for future use; and by this process the writer’s
style is strengthened. He acquires clearness, force, simplicity and
attractiveness—the elements that will insure the reading of his letters.
And one thing that every correspondent can do is to send to the scrap-heap
all the shelf-worn words and hand-me-down expressions such as, “We beg
to acknowledge,” “We beg to state;” “Replying to your esteemed favor;” “the
same;” “the aforesaid;” “We take great pleasure in acknowledging,” and so
on. They are old, wind-broken, incapable of carrying a big message. And the
participial phrases should be eliminated, such as: “Hoping to hear from you;”
“Trusting we will be favored;” “Awaiting your reply,” and so on, at the close
of the letter. Say instead, “I hope to hear from you;” or, “I trust we will
receive your order;” or, “May we not hear from you?”
Interest the man quickly; put snap and sparkle in your letters. Give him
clear and concise statements or use similes and metaphors in your
sentences—figures of speech that will turn a spot-light on your thoughts.
Pick out your words and put them into their places with the infinite care of
a craftsman, but do not become artificial. Use every-day, hard-working
words and familiar illustrations that have the strength to carry your
message without stumbling before they reach their goal.
_The letter writer looks to words, phrases and sentences to make the
little impressions on the reader as he goes along. The letter as a
whole also has to make a_ SINGLE IMPRESSION--_clear-cut and
unmistakable. The correspondent must use this combination shot-gun
and rifle. To get this single rifle-shot effect a letter has to
contain those elements of style that_ HOLD IT TOGETHER; _there must
be a definite idea behind the letter; the message must have a unity
of thought; it must be logically presented; it must have a
continuity that carries the reader along without a break, and a
climax that works him up and closes at the height of his enthusiasm_
* * * * *
Thinking is not easy for anyone. And it is too much to expect the average
business man to analyze a proposition in which he is not interested. His
thoughts tend to move in the course of least resistance. If you want him to
buy your goods or pay your bill or hire you, present your arguments in a way
that will require no great mental exertion on his part to follow you.
A single idea behind the letter is the first requisite for giving it the hang-
together quality and the punch that gets results. The idea cannot be
conveyed to the reader unless it is presented logically. He won’t get a single
general impression from what you are saying to him unless there is unity of
thought in the composition. He cannot follow the argument unless it has
continuity; sequence of thought. And, finally no logic or style will work him
up to enthusiasm unless it ends with a strong climax.
These five principles—the idea behind, logic, unity of thought, continuity,
climax—are the forces that holds the letter together and that gives it
momentum. Because these principles are laid down in text books does not
mean that they are arbitrary rules or academic theories. They are based on
the actual experiences of men ever since they began to talk and write. Essay
or sermon; oration or treatise; advertisement or letter; all forms of
communication most easily accomplish their purpose of bringing the other
man around to your way of thinking, if these proved principles of writing
are followed. Merely observing them will not necessarily make a letter pull,
but violating them is certain to weaken it.
You cannot hit a target with a rifle unless you have one shot in the barrel.
The idea behind the letter is the bullet in the gun. To hit your prospect you
must have a message—a single, definite, clearly-put message. That is the
idea behind the letter.
Look at the letter on page 61. It gets nowhere. Because the writer did not
have this clear, definite idea of what he wanted to impress upon his
prospect. Not one reader in ten would have the shallowest dent made in his
attention by this letter, as he would have had if the writer had started out,
for instance, with one idea of impressing upon the reader the facilities of his
establishment and the large number of satisfied customers for whom it does
work.
With this dominant idea in mind, a correspondent has got to explain it and
argue it so logically that the reader is convinced. Here is a letter from a
manufacturer of gasoline engines:
Dear Sir:
I understand you are in the market for a gasoline engine and as ours is the
most reliable engine made we want to call your attention to it. It has every
modern improvement and we sell it on easy terms.
The inventor of this machine is in personal charge of our factory and he is
constantly making little improvements. He will tell you just what kind of an
engine you need and we will be glad to quote you prices if you will call on us
or write us, telling us what you need.
Hoping to hear from you, we are,
Yours truly,
[Signature: THE MADEWELL ENGINE CO.]
* * * * *
The letter is illogical, disjointed and lacking in that dominant idea that
carries conviction. Yet the writer had material at hand for a strong, logical
selling letter. To have interested the prospect he should have told something
specific about his engine. Here is the letter, rewritten with due regard to
the demands of unity, sequence, logic and climax:
Dear Sir:
A friend told me yesterday that you want a gas engine for irrigating, so I am
sending you bulletin “B.”
Do you notice that all its parts are in plain view and easy to get at? Mr.
Wilbur, who invented this engine, had a good many years of practical
experience installing gasoline engines before he started to manufacture his
own, and he knows what it means to tighten up a nut or some other part
without having to send to the factory for a special man with a special
wrench to do the work.
Sparkers sometimes get gummed up. To take the Wilbur sparker out you
simply remove two nuts and out comes the sparker complete, and you
cannot get it back the wrong way. It isn’t much of a job to wipe the point off
with a rag, is it?
And the governor! Just the same type of throttling governor that is used on
the highest grade of steam engine, allowing you to speed her up or slow her
down while the engine is running. That’s mighty handy. Few engines are
built like this. It costs a good deal of extra money but it does give a lot of
extra satisfaction.
Nothing shoddy about the equipment described in the bulletin, is there? No.
We don’t make these supplies ourselves, but we do watch out and see that
the other fellow gives us the best in the market because WE GUARANTEE
IT.
This sounds very nice on paper, you think. Well, we have over four
thousand customers in Kansas. Mr. W. O. Clifford, who lives not so far from
you, has used a Wilbur for three years. Ask him what he has to say about it.
Then you will want to know just what such an engine will cost you, and you
will be tickled to death when you know how much money we can really
save you. I don’t mean that we will furnish you with a cheap machine at a
high price, but a really high-grade machine at a low price.
I await with much interest your reply telling us what you want.
Very truly yours,
[Signature: L. W. Hamilton]
* * * * *
* * * * *
There is neither unity nor logic in a letter like this, although there is the
suggestion of several good ideas. The fact that the house issues the largest
catalogue of its kind might be so explained to me that it would convince me
that here is the place I ought to buy. Or, the fact that every machine is tested
and put together by hand, if followed to a logical conclusion, would prove to
me that I could rely on the quality of these goods. But when the writer
doesn’t stick to one subject for more than half a sentence, my attention will
not cling to it and my mind is not convinced by a mere statement without
proof.
Unity does not necessarily mean that the whole letter must be devoted to
one point. A paragraph and even a sentence must have this quality of unity
as much as the entire letter. And the paragraphs, each unified in itself, may
bring out one point after another that will still allow the letter to retain its
hang-together.
In the letter quoted, not even the individual sentence retained unity. This
writer might have presented all his points and maintained the unity of his
letter, had he brought out and simplified one point in each paragraph:
First: The size of the catalogue as an indication of the large stock carried by
the house and the convenience afforded in buying.
Second: The quality of the machines; the care exercised in their assembling;
the guarantee of the test, and the assurance that this gives the far-away
purchaser.
Third: Promptness in filling orders; what this means to the buyer and how
the house is organized to give service.
Fourth: The desire to enroll new customers; not based solely on the selfish
desires of the house, but on the idea that the more customers they can get,
the bigger the business will grow, which will result in better facilities for
the house and better service for each customer.
And now, giving a unified paragraph to each of the ideas, not eliminating
subordinate thoughts entirely, but keeping them subordinate and making
them illuminate the central thought—would build up a unified, logical
letter.
In the arrangement of these successive ideas and paragraphs, the third
element in the form is illustrated—continuity of thought. Put a jog or a jar
in the path of your letter and you take the chance of breaking the reader’s
attention. That is fatal. So write a letter that the reader will easily and,
therefore, unconsciously and almost perforce, follow from the first word to
the last—then your message reaches him.
How to secure this continuity depends on the subject and on the prospect.
Appealing to the average man, association of thoughts furnishes the surest
medium for continuity. If you lead a man from one point to another point
that he has been accustomed to associating with the first point, then he will
follow you without a break in his thought. From this follows the well-
known principle that when you are presenting a new proposition, start your
prospect’s thoughts on a point that he knows, which is related to your
proposition, for the transition is easiest from a known to a related
unknown.
An insurance company’s letter furnishes a good example of continuity of
ideas and the gradual increasing strength in each paragraph:
“If you have had no sickness, and consequently, have never felt the
humiliation of calling on strangers for sick benefits—even though it were
only a temporary embarrassment—you are a fortunate man.
“Health is always an uncertain quantity—you have no assurance that next
week or next month you will not be flat on your back—down and out as far
as selling goods is concerned. And sickness not only means a loss of time but
an extra expense in the way of hospital and doctor bills.”
* * * * *
* * * * *
These are specific facts, therefore decidedly forceful. Then, while interest is
at its height, another paragraph presents a specific offer:
“We will protect you at an extremely low annual cost. We guarantee that
the rate will not exceed $9.00 a year—that’s less than two and a half cents a
day. Think of it—by paying an amount so small that you will never miss it,
you will secure benefits on over two thousand sicknesses—any one of
which you may contract tomorrow.”
* * * * *
“We are desirous of adding your name to our roll of membership because we
believe that every man should be protected by insurance and because we
believe this is the best policy offered. We are endeavoring to set a new
record this month and are especially anxious to get your application right
away.”
* * * * *
* * * * *
Study the letters the janitor carries out in your waste-basket— they lack the
red blood of originality. Except for one here and one there they are
stereotyped, conventional, long, uninteresting, tiresome. They have no
individuality; they are poor representatives of an alert, magnetic personality.
Yet there is no legerdemain about writing a good letter; it is neither a matter
of luck nor of genius. Putting in the originality that will make it pull is not a
secret art locked up in the mental storerooms of a few successful writers; it
is purely a question of study and the application of definite principles.
A lawyer is successful only in proportion to the understanding he has of the
law—the study he puts on his cases; a physician’s success depends upon his
careful consideration of every symptom and his knowledge of the effect of
every drug or treatment that he may prescribe. And it is no different with
correspondents. They cannot write letters that will pulsate with a vital
message unless they study their proposition in detail, visualize the
individuals to whom they are writing, consider the language they use, the
method of presenting their arguments, their inducements—there is no point
from the salutation to the signature that is beneath consideration. You
cannot write letters that pull without hard study any more than the doctor
can cure his patients or the lawyer win his cases without brain work.
So many letters are insipid because the correspondents do not have time or
do not appreciate the necessity for taking time to consider the viewpoint of
their readers or for studying out new methods of presenting their
proposition. Yet the same respect that would be given to a salesman may be
secured for a letter. Any one of four attitudes will secure this attention. First
of all, there may be a personal touch and an originality of thought or
expression that commands immediate attention; in the second place, one
can make use of the man-to-man appeal; then there is the always-forceful,
never-to-be-forgotten “you” element; and finally, there are news items
which are nearly always interest-getters.
By any one of these appeals, or better, by a combination of appeals, a letter
can be given an individuality, a vitality, that will make it rise above the
underbrush of ordinary business correspondence.
To begin with, vapid words and stereotyped expressions should be
eliminated, for many a good message has become mired in stagnant
language. So many correspondents, looking for the easiest road to travel, fall
into the rut that has been worn wide and deep by the multitudes passing
that way. The trouble is not the inability of writers to acquire a good style
or express themselves forcibly; the trouble is mental inertia—too little
analytical thought is given to the subject matter and too little serious effort
is made to find an original approach.
Most business letters are cold, impersonal, indifferent: “Our fall catalogue
which is sent to you under separate cover;” “We take pleasure in advising
you that;” “We are confident that our goods will give you entire
satisfaction,” and so on—hackneyed expressions without end—no
personality—no originality—no vitality.
The correspondent who has learned how to sell goods by mail uses none of
these run-down-at-the-heel expressions. He interests the reader by direct,
personal statements: “Here is the catalogue in which you are interested;”
“Satisfaction? Absolute! We guarantee it. We urge you not to keep one of
our suits unless it is absolutely perfect;” “How did you find that sample of
tobacco?” No great mental exertion is required for such introductions, yet
they have a personal touch, and while they might be used over and over
again they strike the reader as being original, addressed to him personally.
Everyone is familiar with the conventional letter sent out by investment
concerns: “In response to your inquiry, we take pleasure in sending you
herewith a booklet descriptive of the White Cloud Investment Company.”
Cut and dried—there is nothing that jars us out of our indifference; nothing
to tempt us to read the proposition that follows. Here is a letter that is
certain to interest the reader because it approaches him with an original
idea:
“You will receive a copy of the Pacific Coast Gold Book under separate
cover. Don’t look for a literary product because that’s not its purpose. Its
object is to give you the actual facts and specific figures in reference to the
gold-mining industry.”
* * * * *
A correspondence school that has got past the stage where it writes, “We
beg to call attention to our catalogue which is mailed under separate cover,”
injects originality into its letter in this way:
“Take the booklet we have mailed you and examine the side notes on
Drawing for Profit and Art Training that apply to you individually and then
go back over them carefully.”
* * * * *
The reader, even though he may have had nothing more than the most casual
interest is certain to finish that letter.
Here is the way a paper manufacturer puts convincing argument into his
letter, making it original and personal:
“Take the sheet of paper on which this letter is written and apply to it every
test you have ever heard of for proving quality. You will find it contains not
a single trace of wood pulp or fillers but is strong, tough, long-fiber linen.
Take your pen and write a few words on it. You will find the point glides so
smoothly that writing is a pleasure. Then erase a word or two and write
them again—do it twice, three or four times—repeated erasures, and still
you will find the ink does not blot or spread in the least. This proves the
hard body and carefully prepared finish.”
* * * * *
Even if a person felt sure that this same letter went to ten-thousand other
men, there would be an individuality about it, a vividness that makes the
strongest kind of appeal.
In a town in central Indiana two merchants suffered losses from fire. A few
days later, one sent out this announcement to his customers:
“We beg to announce that temporary quarters have been secured at 411
Main Street, where we will be glad to see you and will endeavor to handle
your orders promptly.”
* * * * *
* * * * *
“If one of your salesmen should double his sales slips tomorrow you would
watch to see how he did it. If he kept up this pace you would be willing to
double his wages, wouldn’t you? He would double his sales if he could
display all his goods to every customer. That’s the very thing which the
Derwin Display Fixture does—it shows all the goods for your salesman, yet
you don’t have to pay him a higher salary.”
* * * * *
A merchant cannot read this letter without stopping to think about it. The
appeal strikes home. He may have read a hundred advertisements of the
Derwin fixture, but this reaches him because of the originality of expression,
the different twist that is given to the argument. There are no hackneyed
expressions, no involved phrases, no unfamiliar words, no selfish motives.
And then comes the man-to-man attitude, the letter in which the writer
wins the reader’s confidence by talking about “you and me.” A western firm
handling building materials of all kinds entered the mail-order field. One
cannot conceive a harder line of goods to sell by mail, but this firm has
succeeded by putting this man-to-man attitude into its letters:
“If you could sit at my desk for an hour—if you might listen a few minutes
to the little intimate things that men and women tell me— their hopes, their
plans for the home that will protect their families—their little secret
schemes to make saved-up money stretch out over the building cost; if you
could hear and see these sides of our business you would understand why
we give our customers more than mere quality merchandise. We plan for
you and give expert advice along with the material.”
* * * * *
There is nothing cold or distant in this letter; it does not flavor of a soulless
corporation. It is intimate, it is so personal that we feel we are acquainted
with the writer. We would not need an introduction—and what is more,
we trust him, believe in him. Make the man feel that you and he are friends.
Write to the average college or university for a catalogue and it will be sent
promptly with a stereotyped letter: “We are pleased to comply with your
request,” and so forth. But a little school in central Iowa makes the
prospective student feel a personal interest in the school and in its officers
by this letter:
My dear Sir:
The catalogue was mailed to you this morning. We have tried to make it
complete and I believe it covers every important point. But I wish you could
talk with me personally for half an hour—I wish you might go over our
institution with me that I might point out to you the splendid equipment,
the convenient arrangement, the attractive rooms, the ideal surroundings
and the homelike places for room and board.
Won’t you drop me a line and let me know what you think about our
school? Tell me what courses you are interested in and let me know if I
cannot be of some personal assistance to you in making your plans.
I hope to see you about the middle of September when our fall term opens.
Very cordially yours,
[Signature: Wallace E. Lee]
President.
* * * * *
“And now as you look through this book we wish we could be privileged to
sit there with you as you turn its pages. We would like to read aloud to you
every word printed on pages 4, 5 and 6. Will you turn to those pages,
please? Sometimes we think the story told there of the making of a suit is
the most interesting thing ever written about clothes—but then, we think
Columbia suits are the most wonderful garments in the world.”
* * * * *
P. S.—I am enclosing another card for your night operator, if you have one—
I’d hate to have him feel that I had slighted him.
* * * * *
Dear Madam:
You want a dress that does not sag—that does not grow draggy and dowdy?
Then you want to make it of Linette—the new dress goods.
You have seen the beautiful new look and rich luster charm of a high-priced
fabric. You can find this same quality in Linette at only thirty-nine cents a
yard, and then—just think—it will stay in your dress through wearing,
washing and wetting, and you will be surprised to see how easily dresses
made of it may be washed and ironed and what long service the material
will give.
Very truly yours.
[Signature: Anderson & Anderson]
* * * * *
In this letter there is not the faintest suggestion of the profits that the writer
hopes to make by the sale. A man is going to listen just as long as you talk
about him; a woman will keep on reading your letter as long as you talk
about her. Shout “You” and whisper “_me_” and your letter will carry home,
straight to the heart of the reader.
A capitalized “YOU” is often inserted in letters to give emphasis to this
attitude. Here is a letter from a clothing concern:
Dear Madam,
Remember this—when we make your suit we make it for YOU just as much
as if you were here in our work roomed and, furthermore, we guarantee that
it will fit YOU just a perfectly as if you bought it of an individual tailor. We
guarantee this perfection or we will refund your money at once without
question, and pay the express charges both ways.
We have tried hard to make this style-book interesting and beautiful to you
and full of advantage for YOU.
Your friends will ask “Who made your suit?” and we want you to be proud
that it is YOUR suit and that WE made it.
Yours very truly,
[Signature: Adams & Adams ]
* * * * *
And there is yet another quality that is frequently most valuable to the
correspondent in making his letter personal. It is the element of news value.
News interests him especially when it is information about his business, his
customers, his territory, his goods, his propositions. Not only does the news
interest appeal to the dealer because of its practical value to him, but it
impresses him by your “up-to-the-minuteness” and it gives a dynamic force
to your letters.
Tell a man a bit of news that affects his pocket book and you have his
interest. Offer to save him money and he will listen to your every word, and
clever correspondents in manufacturing and wholesale establishments are
always on the alert to find some selling value in the news of the day.
One correspondent finds in the opening of lake navigation an excuse for
writing a sales letter. If the season opens unusually early he points out to the
retailer just how it may affect his business, and if the season opens late he
gives this fact a news value that makes it of prime interest to the dealer. A
shortage of some crop, a drought, a rainy season, a strike, a revolution or
industrial disturbances in some distant country—these factors may have a
far-reaching effect on certain commodities, and the shrewd sales manager
makes it a point to tip off the firm’s customers, giving them some practical
advance information that may mean many dollars to them and his letter
makes the reader feel that the house has his interests at heart.
Another news feature may be found in some event that can be connected
with the firm’s product. Here is the way a manufacturer of stock food
hitches his argument onto a bit of news:
“No doubt you have read in your farm paper about the Poland China that
took first prize at the Iowa State Fair last week. You will be interested to
know that this hog was raised and fattened on Johnson’s stock food.”
* * * * *
“Throw away that old, rusty, stationary fly screen that you used last season.
You won’t need it any more because you can substitute an adjustable one in
its place.
“How many times when you twisted and jerked at the old stationary screen
did you wish for a really convenient one? The sort of screen you wanted is
one which works on rollers from top to bottom so that it will open and close
as easily and conveniently as the window itself.
“That’s just the way the Ideal screen is made. It offers those advantages. It
was placed on the market only a few months ago yet it is so practical and
convenient that already we have been compelled to double the capacity of
our factory to handle the growing business.
“All the wood work is made to harmonize with the finish of your rooms.
Send the measure of your window and the colors you want and get a screen
absolutely free for a week’s trial. If you are not perfectly satisfied at the end
of that time that it’s the most convenient screen you ever used, you need
send no money but merely return the screen at our expense.
“The Ideal screen is new; it is improved; it is the screen of tomorrow. Are
you looking for that kind?”
* * * * *
The news element may have its origin in some new feature, some
attachment or patent that is of interest to the prospect. A manufacturer of
furniture uses this approach effectively:
“The head of my designing department. Mr. Conrad, has just laid on my desk
a wonderful design for something entirely new in a dining room table. This
proposed table is so unique, so new, so different from anything ever seen
before, I am having the printer strike off some rough proofs of this designer’s
drawing, one of which I am sending you under separate cover.”
* * * * *
_Over ONE-HALF of all the form letters sent out are thrown into the waste
basket unopened. A bare_ ONE-THIRD _are partly read and discarded while
only_ ONE-SIXTH _of them—approximately 15 per cent—are read through.
This wasteful ratio is principally due to the carelessness or ignorance of the
firms that send them out— ignorance of the little touches that make all the
difference between a personal and a “form letter.” Yet an increase of a mere
one per cent in the number of form letters that are_ READ _means a
difference of hundreds—perhaps thousands of dollars to the sender.
This article is based on the experiences of a house that sends out
over a million form letters annually_
* * * * *
There are three ways by which you can deliver a message to one of your
customers: you can see him personally, you can telegraph or telephone him,
or you can write him a letter. After you have delivered the message you may
decide you would like to deliver the same message to 252 other customers.
To see each customer personally, to telegraph or telephone each one, or to
write each a personal letter, would prove slow and expensive. So you send
the same letter to all your customers, since you wish to tell them all the
same story.
But you do not laboriously write all these letters on the typewriter; instead,
you print them on some kind of duplicating machine.
But it is not enough to print the body of the letter and send it out, for you
know from your own point of view that the average man does not give a
proposition presented to him in a circular letter, the same attention he gives
to it when presented by a personal appeal. And so little plans and schemes
are devised to make the letter look like a personally dictated message, not
for the purpose of deceiving the reader, but to make your proposition more
intimate. This form of presentation is merely a means to an end; just
because a letter is duplicated a thousand times does not make the
proposition any the less applicable to the reader. It may touch his needs just
as positively as if he were the sole recipient. The reason the letter that one
knows to be simply a circular fails to grip his attention, is because it fails to
get close to him—it does not look personal.
So, if form letters are to escape the waste basket—if they are to win the
prospect’s attention and convince him—they must have all the ear-marks of
a personally dictated communication. If a proposition is worth sending out
it is worthy of a good dress and careful handling.
All the principles of making the individual letter a personal message hold
good with the form letter, except that greater pains must be taken to make
each letter look personal. Nothing should be put into the letter to a dozen or
a thousand men that does not apply to each one individually.
From the mechanical standpoint, there are five parts to a letter:
superscription, body of the letter, signature, enclosures and envelope. In
each of these five parts there are opportunities for original touches that
make letters more than mere circulars.
The superscription and the way it is inserted in a form letter is the most
important feature in making it personal. No semblance of a regularly
dictated letter can be given unless the date, name and address are filled in,
and if this is not done carefully it is far better to open your letter with “Dear
Sir,” and thus acknowledge that it is a circular.
To the left, and in exact alignment with the paragraphs in the body of the
letter, should appear the name and address of the reader. If this
superscription appears a fraction of an inch to either side of the margin the
fill-in is evident. The style of type and the shade of the typewriter ribbons
used in filling-in must match with absolute accuracy. This is vital and yet
the most common error in form letters is imperfect alignment and
conspicuously different colors of ink.
To secure an exact match between the filled-in name and address and the
body of the letter, it is necessary to use ink on the duplicating machine
which matches your typewriter ribbon. The ink used on the duplicating
machine can be mixed to correspond with the color of the ribbons. Long
experience has shown that violet or purple shades of ink are best for form
letters, for these colors are the easiest to duplicate. Black and blue are very
difficult to handle because of the great variety of undertones which are put
into these inks.
Duplicating machines which print through a ribbon give variable shades
and the typist in filling in must watch carefully to see that her typewriter
ribbons match the impressions made in the body of the letter, especially
where the form letters are printed several months in advance and exposed to
changing conditions.
In departments where the stenographers fill in only a few letters a day, a
piece of a “fill-in” ribbon is attached to the end of the regular ribbon and
used for this purpose.
For speed and better work, typists who do nothing but fill in form letters,
overlay their work—that is, before one sheet is taken out of the machine
another is started in. A scheme which is slower but gives accuracy, is to
work backward on the name and address, writing the “Gentlemen” or “Dear
Madam” first, beginning flush with the margin. The town or city is next
written, beginning on the paragraph or established margin line and then the
name and the date are filled in. Guides may be secured so that all sheets will
be fed into the machine at one place, thus assuring an exact margin.
Too much emphasis cannot be laid on the necessity of doing this fill-in work
carefully, or not at all. If letters are printed by means of some duplicating
machine which prints through a ribbon, care must be taken that the first
run from the fresh ribbon is filled in on the typewriter with an equally fresh
typewriter ribbon. Later when the machine ribbon is worn, giving a lighter
impression, an older ribbon is used on the typewriters.
This fill-in work is difficult, and even when done properly many firms adopt
all kinds of little schemes to help out the personal appearance. Separating
the superscription from the body of the letter so that the immediate
contrast is not so great, accomplishes this purpose.
One familiar scheme is to print the shipping or sales terms of the company
across the letterhead so that the first paragraph comes beneath the printed
matter and the filled-in superscription above. Then if there is a slight
difference in shades of ink it is not so apparent. The same care must,
however, be taken with the alignment.
Mr. L. B. Burtis,
1034 Elm Ave.,
Ravenswood, Ill.,
Dear Sir:
In reply to your letter of July 3d I
take pleasure in enclosing the free book
asked for.
* * * * *
New York,
July 7, 1910,
Mr. L. B. Burtis,
1034 Elm Ave.,
Ravenswood, Ill.
Dear Sir:
I enclose with pleasure the free book you
asked for in your letter of July 3rd.
* * * * *
_The wrong and right way of handling form letters. In the first
letter the type of the fill-in does not match and the lines are out
of alignment. Wide white space at both sides of the date “July 3d”
and the town, “Ravenswood,” calls attention to the poor fill-in. The
second letter shows the same fill-ins coming at the end of
paragraphs. The second letter has a date line, personal signature
and initials of dictator and stenographer—little touches that add
to the personality of the letter_
* * * * *
A similar scheme is to write the first paragraph or sentence in red ink. This
is a somewhat expensive process, however, for the letter must be run
through the duplicating machine twice and skill is required to secure an
exact register.
Now that two-colored typewriter ribbons are in such general use the name
and address and date are printed in red, eliminating the necessity of
matching the ink of the body of the letter. This is an effective attention-
getter, but unless carefully printed the impersonality is apparent.
In certain kinds of communications where the more formal customs of social
correspondence are sometimes employed, the letter is often opened with the
salutation, “My dear Sir.” The full name and address is then written in the
lower left corner, in alignment with the paragraphs of the body of the letter.
Some businesses, presenting a proposition to a limited number of persons,
write the entire first paragraph. It is usually short and of course should be
made pointedly personal. “Typing” the name and address onto the form
letter is another familiar scheme to make it more personal.
Use of a body fill-in is always effective. But the right way to do this is to
phrase the letter so that the name, or date, or word, to be inserted, comes at
the beginning or end of the paragraph, preferably at the end. Otherwise the
fill-in may be too short for the space allowed and the result is farcical.
Here is an all too common mistake:
“You may be sure, Mr. Hall, that this machine is just as represented.”
* * * * *
The advantage of having the fill-in at the end of the paragraph is because
names vary so much in length that they seldom just fill the space that is left
and when there is a long blank space, as in the sentence given above, the
scheme is anything but effective.
A manufacturer of automobiles, writing old customers who might wish to
exchange their machines for newer models, added a real personal touch by
filling in the serial number of each machine at the end of a line. Another
individual touch was added in this way:
“You will be interested to know that we have recently sold one of our
machines to a near neighbor of yours, Mr. Henry C. Smith of Rock Creek.”
* * * * *
This sentence was so phrased that the neighbor’s name came at the end of a
line and could be easily filled in.
A furniture manufacturer works in a personal touch by closing a paragraph
of his letter with this sentence:
“You can find our liberal offer to ship freight pre-paid to Rogers Park on
page 3 of the catalogue.”
* * * * *
The name of the town and page number of the catalogue came at the end of
the sentence. Another manufacturer opened his letter with this sentence:
“On April 2, we received your inquiry.” In this case, “On April 2,” was filled
in at the beginning of the sentence. Both schemes give the “one-man”
attitude. A personal touch in the body of the letter indicates an individual
communication—as it really is.
There are four ways for making the body of the letter look like a regularly
typewritten message: it may be typewritten, printed on a printing press,
printed through a ribbon or printed by means of a stenciled waxed paper.
Firms sending out only a few form letters typewrite them so that no effort is
necessary to give an individual touch.
But the letter printed from typewriter type by means of an ordinary printing
press is obviously nothing more than an ordinary circular. Filling in the
name and address by a typewriter is absolutely useless. It is usually
advisable to print form letters by means of some duplicating process which
prints through a ribbon.
Where a stencil is used, the waxed paper is put in the typewriter and the
letter is written on it without a ribbon. Here the stenciled letter replaces the
usual type, and the impression secured can seldom be detected from a
typewritten letter. A stencil can be made more quickly than type for the
same letter can be set. Then the exact touch of the typist is reproduced on
the duplicated letters through the stencil. No stenographer can write a
letter without making some words heavier than others, the distribution of
the ink is not the same throughout, so absolute uniformity in the printed
letter is not advisable.
In printing the body of the letter select some process which gives the
appearance of typewriting and then match the fill-in. One merchant secured
an effective matching of fill-in and body by printing the form with a poorly-
inked ribbon on the duplicating machine and then filling in the name and
address with a typewriter ribbon that had been well used. While the
general appearance of the letter was marred by this scheme, the impression
was that of a letter written on a poor typewriter and it was effective.
The business man, the clerk and the farmer—everyone visited by the
postman—is becoming more and more familiar with letters. The day has
passed when anyone is deceived by a carelessly handled form letter. Unless a
firm feels justified in spending the time and money to fill in the letter very
carefully, it is much better to send it out frankly as a circular.
Nor is this always a weakness, for a clever touch can be added that
introduces the personal elements. One mail-order house sent out a large
mailing with this typewritten notice in the upper left corner of the
letterhead:
“You must pardon me for not filling in your name and address at the
beginning of this letter, but the truth is I must get off fifty thousand letters
tonight, and I have not the necessary stenographic force to fill in the name
and address on each individual letter.”
* * * * *
In spite of the fact that each man was frankly told that 49,999 other persons
were receiving the same letter, the appeal was as personal as an individual
message. Another writer opened his communication in this way:
“This letter is to YOU. and it is just as personal as If I had sat down and
pounded it off on the typewriter myself, and I am sure that you, as a
business man, appreciate that this is a personal message to you, even if I am
writing a hundred thousand others at the same time.”
* * * * *
This letter struck a popular and responsive chord, for each reader took it to
himself as a frank, honest appeal, from a frank, honest business man. It was
a direct personal communication because each reader felt that although it
was duplicated a thousand times it nevertheless contained a live message.
But the care that some writers take to make the form letter look personal, is
the very thing that kills it. They make the letter too perfect. To avoid this
result, leave an imperfect word, here and there, throughout the body of the
letter. Watch the setting up of the type to be sure the lines are not spaced
out like a printed page. Many correspondents imitate the common mistakes
of the typewritten letter from the mechanical standpoint and in the
language.
Time spent in correcting these errors with pen and ink is usually considered
a paying investment. The tympan of the duplicating machine is sometimes
made uneven so that the impression of a typewriter is still further carried
out. Some duplicating machines advertise that their type print “loose” for
this very purpose. A favorite scheme with firms where letter presses are
used is to blur the letter slightly after it has been filled in and signed. A
word “XXX’d” out as by a typewriter lends an impression of the personal
message, as does also the wrong spelling of a word, corrected by pen and
ink.
But fully as vital to the individuality of the letter is the manner in which it is
closed. The signature of the form letter is a subject that deserves as careful
consideration as the superscription and the body of the letter. The actual
typewritten letter to Henry Brown is signed with pen and ink. Even where
the name of the company also appears at the end of the letter, the personal
signature in ink is desirable. And when you write all the Henry Browns on
your mailing list, you should apply the pen-and-ink signature to every letter.
That is the only effective way.
It is not so essential that the signature should be applied by the writer
personally. Often a girl writes the signature, saving the time of a busy
department head. Many firms use a rubber facsimile stamp for applying the
signature, but it is not as effective, for it is seldom that the stamped name
does not stand out as a mechanical signature. One concern adds the name of
the company at the bottom of the letter and has a clerk mark initials
underneath with pen and ink.
The form letter has a heavy load which carries a row of hieroglyphics at the
bottom of the page—the “X-Y-Z,” the “4, 8, 6,” the “Dictated WML-OR” and
the twenty and one other key numbers and symbols common to the form
letters of many houses. When a man receives such a letter, he is impressed
by the mass of tangled mechanical operations the message has undergone;
on its face he has the story of its mechanical make-up and its virility is lost,
absolutely.
Then consider the various notes, stamped in a frankly mechanical manner at
the bottom of the letter, such as, “Dictated, but not read,” “Signed in the
absence of Mr. So-and-So.” To the average man who finds one of these notes
on the letter, there is the impression of a slap in the face. He does not like to
be reminded that he may converse with the stenographer in the absence of
the president. When a letter says “Not read” he feels that the message was
not of sufficient importance to warrant the personal attention of the writer.
Eliminate all such notes from the form letter.
Sometimes a postscript may suggest a note of personality. For instance, one
firm writes underneath the signature: “I want you to look especially at the
new model on page 37 of the catalogue.” This is effective if done with pen
and ink, but if printed or stamped, it gives no additional tone of
individuality to the letter. One manufacturer had a postscript written on an
extra slip of paper which he pasted to the corner of the sheet.
Another concern writes out on a piece of white paper the blue-penciled
postscript: “I’ll send you this three-tool garden kit free (express prepaid) if
your order for the patent roller reaches me before the 5th.” This is made into
a zinc etching and printed in blue so perfectly that the postscript appears to
have been applied with a blue pencil.
Still another postscript scheme is to write the form letter so that it just fills
the first page, then to dictate and sign a paragraph for a second page—a
most effective plan.
Then you must consider the enclosure that often goes with the letter. This
frequently stamps it a circular. If you are offering a special discount or
introductory sale price, for instance, it would be ridiculous to say in your
letter, “This is a special price I am quoting to you,” when the reader finds the
same price printed on the circular. Print the regular price, and then blot out
the figures with a rubber stamp and insert the special price with pen and
ink, or with a stamp.
If you offer a special discount it is best to say so frankly:
* * * * *
* * * * *
The discount card should be filled-in with the name of the person written
and stamped with a serial numbering machine. The date the special offer
expires should also be stamped on the circular. In making a special offer to a
“limited number of persons,” the enclosure describing it and the return
order blank should not be too elaborate or carefully prepared. It is more
effective to make them inexpensive and give a careless appearance. Aim to
carry the impression that with a hundred or so you could not afford to do it
better.
Do not let an opportunity pass to give the enclosure the same personal
touch that you aim at in the letter. Some houses even sign the reader’s name
to the card. A pencil or pen mark over some particular feature of the
enclosure is another way to suggest personal attention.
Refer to the enclosure in a way that indicates individual attention.
A correspondence school takes off the weight of the overload of
enclosures by inserting this paragraph:
* * * * *
* * * * *
* * * * *
* * * * *
“I’m sending you a list of the printers in your immediate vicinity from whom
you can secure our bond papers.”
* * * * *
* * * * *
* * * * *
The first impression created by a business letter is based upon its outward
appearance—upon its mechanical make-up, the quality of its paper, the
grade of its printing or engraving; upon the superficial qualities that are
apparent at a glance.
The externals do not necessarily reflect the quality of the message within
the letter. But the experienced business man, who is trained to make his
estimate quickly, gets an impression of some kind—good, bad or
indifferent—of every letter that comes before him, even before a word of
that letter is read.
In other words, the general appearance of the letter is the first appeal that it
makes to the average man. The nearer that appearance conforms to the
appearance of the letters from reputable concerns with which he is familiar,
the more favorably he is impressed with it. The farther its appearance
departs from the established and approved standards, the more forcibly will
that letter force itself upon his attention. But whether the recipient is
favorably or unfavorably impressed by this prominence depends upon the
skill and ingenuity with which the letter is made up mechanically.
Generally speaking, business correspondence paper may be classified as
follows:
First: The conventional stationery, that conforms to the established rules and
the principal variation of which is in the quality of its paper and printing.
Second: The individualistic stationery, that departs from the usual styles and
is good to the extent that it meets the unusual requirements for which it is
designed.
Third: The eccentric stationery, which is usually merely a fanciful violation of
the conventions for the purpose of being conspicuous.
Of these three types of business stationery, the first is essentially practical
and sane; the second is forceful if it does not violate the fundamental rules of
color and design, and if it has a peculiarly apt application; while the third is
almost invariably in as poor taste as eccentricity in dress.
The first consideration in the preparation of business stationery is the
paper, or “stock.”
The quality of this “stock,” like the quality of material of a suit of clothes,
largely determines the taste, if not the resources of the owner. Important
messages may be written on cheap stationery; big men with big plans are
sometimes clad in shoddy garments. But ninety-nine out of a hundred are
not, and the hundredth man, who does not conform to the accepted order of
things, is taking an unnecessary business risk of being wrongly classified.
After a man has delivered his message, the quality of his clothes is not an
important item. After a letter has been read, the quality of its paper is
insignificant. But as the man is seen before he is heard, and the letter before
it is read, it is good business to make both dress and stationery conform to
approved styles.
For instance, the average financial institution, such as a bank or trust
company, takes every precaution to create an impression of strength and
security. The heavy architecture of its building, the massive steel bars, its
uniformed attendants the richness of its furnishings, all tend to insure a
sense of reliability. Does it use cheap stationery? On the contrary, it uses
rich, heavy bond. The quality of its paper conforms to the dignity and
wealth of the institution; indeed, so long has the public been trained to
expect good letter paper from such concerns that it would be apt to
mistrust, perhaps unconsciously, the house that resorted to cheap grades of
stationery which is almost invariably associated with cheap concerns or
with mere form letters issued in large quantities.
Stationery should be representative of the business from which it comes.
The impression created by a well-dressed man, as well as of a well-dressed
letter, is seldom analyzed; the first glance is generally sufficient to establish
that impression. A letter soliciting an investment of money, if printed on
cheap stock, may create such a tawdry impression as to be discarded
instantly by the average business man, although the letter may come from an
entirely reliable house and contain an excellent business proposition on
good, substantial paper. For this reason, the letter that departs from the
usual standards must assume unnecessary risks of being thrown away
unread.
To discriminate at a glance between important and inconsequential
business letters, is what most men have been trained to do. It is not
exaggeration to claim that the success of many business letters often
depends upon the paper. The difference between the letter of an obscure
country merchant or lawyer, and that of his well-known correspondent in
the city, lies often in its mechanical appearance. The one, who is not trained
to observe what he considers trifling items, uses paper that is cheap and
easily available; the other, experienced in the details that tend to increase
the dignity of the house, selects his stationery with care from a wider
assortment. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred the two letters may be
identified at a distance. The message of one letter may be just as important
as the other; but one is properly and the other is improperly “clothed.”
What the firm thinks about business stationery is not so important as what
the recipients think. Do not buy good stock because it pleases the “house,”
but because it influences the man to whom the house writes. First
impressions are usually strongest and the first impression produced by a
letter comes from the paper upon which it is written.
Some men seem to feel superior to creating a good impression. They do not
want to stoop so low as to go to the best hotel. They will not buy a hat or an
umbrella that can help them get business. Their general idea is to bang their
way into the market and succeed in their shirt sleeves, as it were, and on the
strength of the goods. Of course, if a man has time to succeed in his shirt
sleeves, there is no objection to it. The idea of having as one’s address the
best hotel, or in writing one’s business on the best paper, is not that a man
could not succeed in his shirt sleeves, if he set out to, but that he has not
time. He gets little things out of the way and proceeds to business.
The quality of the paper must be largely influenced by the purpose, as well
as by the quantity of the letters to be written. A firm that sends out
hundreds of thousands of form letters to sell a small retail article in the rural
districts, will not use an expensive stock; it will use a cheaper quality of
paper. If the form letter goes to business or professional men in the city, the
quality of the paper will be determined accordingly. In every instance, stock
should be selected which will meet the expectations of the recipient.
The fact that the recipient knows a form letter as such, largely nullifies its
influence. A business man who sends out a large number of form letters a
year claims that when he gets a reply beginning, “In response to your form
letter,” he knows that the effect of that letter is absolutely lost on a large
percentage of this list who seldom or never bother to read such
communications. And one of the distinguishing marks of such a letter is the
poor quality of its paper.
Different grades of stationery may be used for the various departments. For
inter-house or inter-department correspondence, an inexpensive paper is
desirable. For many purposes, indeed, a low-priced stock is entirely
permissible. But the higher the quality of paper, the more exclusive and
personal that letter becomes, until, in the cases of executive heads of
corporations, the stock used is of the best. One well-known corporation
regularly uses six different grades of paper for its letters; one grade is
engraved upon a thin bond of excellent quality and used by the president of
the company when writing in his official capacity; another grade is engraved
upon a good quality of linen paper and is used by the other officers, sales
managers and heads of office departments when writing official letters to
outside parties; when writing to officers or employees of their own concern,
the same letterhead, lithographed on a less expensive grade of paper, is used;
A fourth grade of bond paper is used by officers and department heads for
their semi-official correspondence. The sixth grade is used only for personal
letters of a social nature; it is of a high quality of linen stock, tinted. Thus,
the size, shape and quality of the paper and letterhead in each instance is
made to conform to the best business and social usages.
For business correspondence, custom allows but little leeway in the choice
of paper. For print shops, advertising concerns, ink manufacturers,
engravers, or paper manufacturers, stationery offers an opportunity to
exploit their taste or products in an effective and legitimate manner. For
most houses, however, a plain bond, linen, or the vellums and hand-made
papers that are coming into favor, furnish the best letter paper.
Colors on correspondence paper are seldom used to good effect; the results
are frequently glaring and cheap. When in doubt as to what tint to use in
the paper stock, use white, which is always in good taste. Tinted stock is
occasionally used to good advantage as a “firm color.” In such cases all the
correspondence of that house has a uniform tint, which thus acquires an
advertising value in attracting attention to itself among a mass of other
letters. Aside from this occasional and often doubtful advertising value,
tinted stock tends toward the eccentric except in the cases of paper dealers,
publishers, or printers who have a purpose in displaying typographical
effects.
Many concerns use paper of various tints, each of which identifies the
particular department from which it comes. Thus, white paper may mark
the letters from the executive department, blue from the selling department,
and brown from the manufacturing department. But, even in such cases, the
colors are used ordinarily only for inter-house or inter-department
communications.
The sheet should be of standard size; that is the letter sheet should be folded
to fit exactly into the envelope that is used.
Only such paper stock should be selected as can hold ink readily. Never
select a stock that is not entirely serviceable on a typewriting machine.
Never sacrifice the practical to the eccentric in business stationery.
An inferior quality of stationery is sometimes accepted by the shrewd
observer either as a deliberate act to economize or as an indication of poor
taste or indifference. A man who gets an estimate, for example, written on
cheap paper, may be led to believe that the man who skimps on letter paper
is apt to skimp on his work. So long as the paper represents the sender, just
so long will the sender be judged by it.
From a semi-business or social standpoint, stationery often plays an
important role; many instances are recorded where a man’s private note
paper has been the means of eliminating his name from select, social lists.
The lady who, in writing to an employment office for a butler, used her
private stationery with the remark, “that is one more way of giving them to
understand what sort of a butler I want,” knew the effect produced by
proper letter paper.
In other words, the stationery of a business house—the size, the proportions,
the tint, the quality of its correspondence-paper— offers the first of the
several opportunities for the correspondent to put the recipient into a
receptive state of mind toward the communication. It is an item that the
shrewd correspondent does not ignore, because it offers him an
opportunity—and the first opportunity—to score.
* * * * *
The feature of a business letter that invariably commands the first conscious
attention of the recipient is the name—printed or written—of the firm or
individual from whom the letter comes.
Except when the correspondent intentionally omits this information for the
purpose of inducing the recipient to notice a circular letter that he might
otherwise ignore, the name and address of the sender is printed on the
envelope.
This is done for two reasons: it brings the name of the correspondent before
the recipient immediately upon receipt of the letter; it tends to secure
favorable attention, and it enables the post office authorities to return
letters to the senders in case of non-delivery because of removals, death,
wrong address or other causes.
In either case, the interests of the correspondent are best served by printing
this information in the upper left corner of the face of the envelope. It is this
side of the envelope that bears the address and the stamp, and consequently
the only side, under ordinary circumstances, that receives attention from
either the postal officials or the recipient. When the sender’s name is
printed in this position, it is brought prominently to the attention of the
recipient as the letter is placed before him. But even a more practical reason
for putting this data in the upper left corner is that such a location on the
envelope permits the post office rubber stamp, “_Return to Sender_,” to be
affixed, in case of need, without the confusion and annoyance that is caused
when this address is printed on the back of the envelope, as is sometimes
done.
As a rule, the printed matter that appears on the envelope should consist
merely of the name and address of the sender in plain, legible letters.
In no case should the address be ambiguous. However many branch offices
the firm may have, the use of more than one address on the envelope is apt to
be confusing and may result in a communication’s being returned to an
office other than that from which it comes. To avoid this, only one address
should be printed on the envelope, and that should be the address to which
the correspondence is to be returned by the postal authorities in case of
non-delivery to the addressee. The trade mark or other similar distinctive
imprint of a firm may properly be used on the envelope, but only in cases
where it will not tend to confuse or crowd the essential wording. The name
of the person to whom the letter is to be returned is of considerable more
practical value to the postman than a unique design with which the
envelope may be adorned.
The letterhead offers wider opportunities for an array of data. Pictures of
offices, buildings and factories, trade marks, lists of branch offices, cable
codes and the names of officers and executive heads may be used, but too
much reading matter leads to confusion. The tendency today is toward
simplicity. The name and address of the firm, and the particular department
or branch office from which the communication comes, is regarded as
sufficient by many houses. The day of the letterhead gay with birds-eye
views of the plant and much extraneous information seems to be passing,
and money that was once spent in elaborate designs and plates is now put
into the “quality” of the letter paper—and quality is usually marked by
dignified simplicity and directness.
Letterheads may be mechanically produced by several different processes
that range widely in costs. The principal methods of printing letterheads
are:
First: From type.
Second: From zinc or half-tone plates made from drawings—generally
designated as “photo-engraving”.
Third: From plates engraved on copper or steel.
Fourth: From lithograph plates, engraved on stone.
Fifth: From photogravure or similar engraved plates.
Generally speaking, letterheads printed from type are the cheapest. The
costs of type composition for an ordinary letterhead will vary from fifty
cents to four or five dollars, dependent upon the amount of work. The
printing ranges in cost from one dollar a thousand sheets for one color to
several times that amount, dependent upon the quality of ink and paper, and
upon local conditions. Many concerns are discarding letterheads printed
from type, as more individuality can be shown in some form of engraved or
lithographed work.
Good results may often be secured from “line cuts” or zinc plates— which
cost from five to ten cents a square inch, with a minimum charge ranging
from fifty cents to a dollar—made from pen-and-ink drawings. Good and
distinctive lettering may often be secured in this way, where type matter
does not offer the same opportunities. The cost of printing from zinc plates
is practically the same as the cost of printing from type. If the drawings are
made in water color, “wash” or oil, or if they contain fine crayon or pencil
shadings, the reproductions must be made from half-tone plates. These cost
from twelve cents to twenty cents a square inch, with a minimum rate that
usually is equivalent to the cost of ten square inches. Half-tones, however,
can be printed only on an enamel or other smooth-surface paper, and cannot
be used satisfactorily on a rough-surface paper as can zinc plates.
Copper or steel engravings are made from designs furnished either by the
engraver or by some other designer. For simple engraved lettering such as is
customarily used on business stationery, the cost of a copper plate is about
ten cents a letter. For elaborate designs the costs increase proportionately.
Steel plates, which are more durable, cost about sixty per cent more.
Printing from such plates is considerably more expensive than the two
processes previously described. Engraved letterheads cost from six dollars
upward a thousand for the printing, while the envelopes cost approximately
two dollars and fifty cents a thousand. The envelopes are usually printed
from steel dies, which cost about ten cents a letter.
For large orders of stationery, exceeding 20,000 sheets, lithography offers
economies in price and other advantages that render it more practical than
metal engraving. The design is engraved upon stone and printed from the
stone block. While the initial costs of lithography are high, ranging from
$25.00 to $100.00 for the engraving (with an average cost of about $50.00),
the price of printing is so moderate as to make this form of production
popular among extensive users of business paper. Lithography gives a
smooth, uniform and permanent impression on the paper, and permits of an
indeterminate “run.” The cost of printing from lithographic plates is
practically the same as from steel or copper plates. The savings effected in
large orders is in the cost of the plates, for copper and steel must be renewed
as they become worn down.
The photogravure process is costly both in the plate-making and in the
printing. While it gives a rich and uniform impression on the letter paper,
and is highly valuable for reproducing pictures and ornate designs, it is
adaptable only for special purposes and is not generally regarded as suitable
for commercial work. A photogravure plate costs from seventy-five cents to
one dollar and twenty-five cents a square inch, or about $12.00 to $50.00 for
a letterhead. The printing costs about the same as for other engraved
stationery. With other processes, somewhat similar in the market, this
method of printing letterheads has not yet won extensive favor.
It is now almost universally recognized that a letter should be written on
one side of the sheet only.
A copy should be kept of every communication that leaves the office. Either
a carbon copy may be made at the time the letter is written—six good
copies can be made simultaneously on the average typewriter, although one
is usually sufficient—or a letter-press copy can be made from the sheet after
it is signed. Both forms have been accepted by the courts as legal copies of
correspondence.
Such copies are usually filed alphabetically either by the name of the
company or individual to whom the letter is addressed.
Letter-press copies must necessarily be filed chronologically, even when
separate books for each letter of the alphabet are maintained. In either case
the search through the files for a letter copy is facilitated by placing the
name, address and date of a letter at the top.
For the same reason the date of a letter should be placed in the upper right
corner of the page; the recipient must know when the communication is
sent; it may have a bearing on other communications. The name and address
of the addressee, similar to the address on the envelope, should in all cases
be placed, as the formal salutation, in the upper left corner of the sheet,
whether the correspondent be greeted “Dear Sir” or “Gentlemen.” Not only
does this establish at once the exact individual for whom the
communication is intended but it facilitates the filing of the
correspondence, both by the recipient and by the sender.
The margins of a business letter, owing to the limitations of the typewriter,
are usually variable. The space occupied by the letterhead must, of course,
determine the margin at the top of the sheet. Theoretically, the margins at
the left and right should be exactly the same size; practically, however, the
typewriter lines will vary in length and cause an uneven edge on the right
side. In printing, the use of many-sized spaces not only between words but
at times, between the letters themselves rectifies these variations, but the
typewriter does not permit this. The more even the right margin is and the
more uniform it is to the left margin, the better the effect. The margins
should be about one and a half inches in width. The margin at the bottom
should not be less than the side margins. Should it be smaller, the page will
appear cramped for space as the reading matter will be really running over
into the margin—a typographical defect that is as noticeable on typewritten
as on printed pages.
The spacing between the lines and between the paragraphs of a business
letter may vary to suit the tastes of the individual, although considerations
of a practical nature tend to establish a few general principles.
Both for purposes of convenience and of economy, a letter should be as
compact as possible, both in words and in mechanical production. It should
not take up two sheets if the message can be written on one without undue
crowding. Hence most business letters are single spaced; that is, only one
space on the typewriter separates the lines. Even when a letter is short, it is
advisable for purposes of uniformity, to use single spaces only.
The first line of each paragraph is usually indented from five to fifteen points
on the machine. Each business house should establish exactly what this
indentation shall be in order to secure uniformity in its correspondence.
Instead of indenting the first line, some concerns designate the paragraphs
merely by separating them by double spacings, beginning the first line flush
with the left margin. The best practice, however, seems to embody both of
these methods, but the average business letter usually has its paragraphs
separated by double spacing and indenting the first line.
The address on the envelope, to which the salutation at the top of the letter
should correspond, either exactly or in slightly condensed form, may be
properly typewritten in various ways. The style that is most observed,
however, and which has the stamp of general approval, provides for an
indentation of about five points on each line of the address.
Between the lines the spacings may be either single or double but the latter
is preferable. Greater spacing tends to separate the address too much to
allow it to be read quickly.
Another approved, though less popular form of address does not indent the
lines at all.
Any radical departure from these forms should be made cautiously,
especially if the various items of the address are separated from each other.
The address, like a paragraph, is generally read as a unit—as a single,
distinct idea. The closer the address conforms to the generally accepted
forms, the more readily are the envelopes handled by the postoffice and the
less danger of delay.
* * * * *
* * * * *
* * * * *
_Business stationery should reflect the house that sends it out but
unless specific rules are adopted there will be a lack of uniformity
in arrangement, in style, in spelling, infolding—all the little
mechanical details that contribute to an impression of_ CHARACTER
and INDIVIDUALITY. _Definite instructions should be given to
correspondents and stenographers so that letters, although written
in a dozen different departments, will have a uniformity in
appearance. What a book of instructions should contain and how rules
can be adopted is described in this chapter_
* * * * *