I'm Alaura Weaver: freelance copywriter & Content Marketer, bad-ass motherblogger, researcher, former B2B sales rep, sometimes-actress, reader, storyteller, PODCAST JUNKIE, mother, and wife.
And I have a story to tell.
"It's not personal, it's just business."
Those were the words of my former sales manager as I sat across from him at a McDonald's off Route 75 in Monroe, Michigan--about an hour outside of Detroit.
It was winter of 2008, and the dirt-gray sky was spitting sleet into the dirt-gray parking lot outside.
Sitting at the tables around me were people whose tired faces revealed anxiety and defeat.
They were wondering if their homes were the next on the block to be foreclosed.
They were wondering if they would have to file for bankruptcy because they couldn't pay off medical bills or student loans.
They were wondering if they'd have to cash in their retirement savings to cover the mortgages of homes that were underwater.
These people were the living, breathing evidence of "nothing personal, just business."
I had just sold a half-page ad in the Yellow Book (remember the phone book?) to a man who had given me the last of his savings--$8,000 cash in a rumpled envelope that smelled of mothballs and desperation.
It was the first time in 40 years of business he had to pay for advertising.
Instead of feeling jubilant over my big sale, I was in an ethical tug of war: despite the cheery sales presentation I had given him, I knew the chances of his getting a return on his $8,000 investment were slim to none.
But hey--I had to make my numbers.
So I did everything I could to convince this guy to scrape up the money to buy the biggest ad he could.
And he did.
So--why did my Big Mac taste like sawdust?
Because my need for a number had overshadowed my desire to be of help to a fellow human being.
I knew that when I put "$8,000" on the dry erase sales board in the office, management would only see a number, not the final hopes of a man trying to save his dying business.
And that's all the people at the tables around me were to the banks and the mortgage lenders and the collection agencies: just numbers.
Just business, nothing personal.
That's when I realized I couldn't be in the business world to just do business.
It's 2016, and I'm in my home office on the phone with my newest client: a Silicon Valley tech startup founder. He's recently sold his first startup and can finally pursue his passion: creating social change.
He needs to get people to sign up for his program-- one that will create new opportunities for underrepresented people in the tech world.
He knows I'm the right person to turn to because of my dedication to putting people before profit.
We share the belief that the true value of a company isn't in the money it makes but the positive impact it provides to the world.
When we hang up, I dance for joy. Because finally, I'm helping to make business personal.
Because business IS personal.
And we have a personal responsibility to keep it that way.
When you stop marketing to consumers and start telling stories with people, business becomes personal.
If you share the same values, we should bring our superpowers together to make this world kinder, healthier, more peaceful, and more equitable than when we arrived on it.
But here’s the thing:
(Isn’t there always a thing?)
There’s just one of me, and thousands of founders desperate for content from a copywriter like me. My project calendar is already full for next month, so if you have a launch in the next 90 days, we need to talk ASAP!
I can’t wait to hear the story you want to tell.
To learn more about my approach to copywriting, Check Out My Post on CopyHackers:
Feel free to get in touch: email@example.com