What Actually Happens When Your Holiday Content Stands Out
I just celebrated the five-year anniversary of my business, but one email I’ve sent in that time got a higher response than any other I’ve sent. This email topped offers, freebies, insights: This email had a higher open rate than when I announced the birth of my youngest daughter.
The email I’m referring to is the one I sent in November of 2020 and the subject line was: “Thanksgiving 2020 will be more than okay” and in the email (full transcript below) I went into why.
Here’s the thing: The holidays stir up emotions. They might be good. They might be bad. But they’re strong. And we know that buying is an emotional decision. (We know that the worst thing someone can feel about your brand is apathy.)
And so when you thread the holidays into your content, it will be so much more memorable.
I led a training on holiday marketing strategy this week, and I asked a zoom full of older Millennials (like myself) if they remembered when Coca Cola had the Polar bears, and the “Santa Pack” commercials. At which point I said: “I’m Jewish, and I wanted a Santa pack!” (It’s true. And Coke got me again when they put my name on can, but that’s a conversation for another day.)
I want you to think about how your customer might be feeling—happy, sad, joyful, stressed, angry, exhausted, elated, nostalgic, anticipatory, uncomfortable in their body, judged, lonely, overwhelmed by people, hopeful, spiritual—how can you lean in and walk beside them?
Better, yet, thought leaders—how can you lead the conversation? Can you share a new idea that might solve a problem. How can you make their holidays better? Or commiserate with them if they don’t want them to be better?
Holiday content can be the some of the most memorable content of the year—because the holidays connect it to years of memories and feelings for the audience.
If you want to learn in more detail how to craft your holiday content and marketing strategy for your audience—and yes, you should start planning now—join me in a free training this Friday October 28 at noon. Click here to get the info.
The full “Thanksgiving 2020 Will be More Than Okay Email” I sent to my subscribers days before Thanksgiving 2020:
JUST IMAGINE
for a moment, the headlines for this holiday season might look like if we didn’t need to stay home tomorrow. In lieu of “How to Survive a Socially Distanced Thanksgiving,” I imagine they’d read:
How to Survive Thanksgiving With Relatives Who Voted Differently From You
How to Survive Holiday Traffic
How to Survive Your Family’s Expectations
How to Survive a Holiday Family Event Single
How to Survive Your Relatives’ Questions About Your Career
How to Survive a Meal With People Who Don’t Respect Your Food Choices
You catch my drift. Messaging comes from all sides that Thanksgiving is both (a) this idealized Hallmark moment that is more important than other days we spend with loved ones and (b) destined to fall short of expectations.
This morning, I hit my limit with emails that began: “This Thanksgiving is so hard for all of us.” This many months into the pandemic, I’m tired of marketing that sells by leaning on rapport through commiseration.
So, here’s my truth: I love small, immediate family holiday meals. I love my family, too, but I’m not heartbroken.
As always, my perspective is informed by my own defining experiences: I have a different take on the holidays.
I’ve experienced a large Thanksgiving where one family member aired all of their grievances and the rest of the family cried into their mashed potatoes. The year Moses died, Mac and I told our friends and family Thanksgiving wouldn’t exist for us. We went on vacation to think about what came next. At the time, the idea of gratitude seemed oppressive. Still fresh in our grief, we found some peace on that trip.
Since then, we’ve had a mixture of traditional and small Thanksgivings. We’ve had lovely, large, warm, undramatic family holidays; and we’ve had years where it’s just us. And when having a small celebration, we still have an incredible day. We go on a long family walk. We drink mimosas while we cook because we’re not going anywhere. Mac has football games on all day and the girls have no limit on screentime. We still eat turkey--and all the sides, and my FAMOUS homemade pumpkin pie.
We call the people we love and wish them a Happy Thanksgiving, and we have a pretty wonderful day. And we also know that if we want to have a big family meal in July, we can, so honestly—I’m not stressed about it.
The communications lesson herein—because I always try to include one—is this: Share YOUR truth, because it will resonate with YOUR people. I know some of you are sad today (I’ve seen the posts) and I see you and honor your experience, but I’m hoping my perspective will add a little light to your day. You don’t need me to pile on.
I say this all the time: Numerous people do what you do, but only you bring your approach, experiences, perspective, etc.
My readers (Hi!) come to me because they’re interested in sharing more of themselves, in building that rapport with their audience, and conveying their expertise in a warm, conversational way. I know there have to be other pros talking about connecting and selling through shared pain and frustration—and that approach even made sense for some of my clients’ emails this week, so I advised them accordingly. But it’s not required. What’s required is showing up as YOU are.
This, friends, is what that looks like for me.
Happy Thanksgiving!
