I’m a skimmer.
Very rarely do I sit down and read a complete book, article, or promotion. I skim for information, then move on. Occasionally I’ll pick up some truly compelling writing and read every word, but that’s not what happened three weeks ago.
Let me set the scene: another local business owner has contacted me about editing copy material for him. The fourth new client in as many months, I’m thrilled, but I’m also honest with myself – after years of reading, studying, and writing, I’ve never officially studied copy writing. I’ve read a few articles and I know the fundamentals, but I don’t have the official training.
A new email from Writers Digest. There’s a week left to sign up for the 10-week intensive copy writing course.
I skim the course description: a 10-week course that requires me to be online one day a week for 90 minutes. Online access to classes and materials dedicated to copy writing. My aunt (who lives with us) will be gone during that period to spend the rest of the winter with her sister in sunny Las Vegas, so I’ll have plenty of time to study and participate.
I sign up. A few days later I attend my first online class. It’s mostly an orientation, so I’m half paying attention as the instructor helps the more technologically challenged navigate the platform. As she’s wrapping up the session, however, I tune in:
“I’m so excited to get started! There’s going to be a lot of great material covered, but it’s going to move fast. By condensing this 52-week course into 10-weeks -”
Wait – WHAT??
“- we’re going to cover a lot of material. For next week make sure you read the first 96 pages. You can find a -”
Did she say NINETY-SIX pages??
She kept talking. People asked questions. My brain stopped. I needed this course – I wanted to take this course – but nothing could have prepared me for finding out I would be cramming a year’s worth of info into two and a half months.
Well, I suppose the course description would have prepared me if I hadn’t skimmed it.