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Laura Belgray (Talking Shrimp)

"Yours are the only emails I actually open and read" - a regular reply in my inbox since 2009...and I'll bet in yours, too, once you subscribe and learn by pure, lazy osmosis to become the most compelling writer around. That said, no promises on improving your moral character.

Featured Post

I'm making a big change.

Hey Reader, I’ve switched things up in my life. Had to. At the dermatologist, where I’ve started going for variously painful and costly laser treatments and anything else that will keep me looking fresh but not like one of the trout-pout/surprise-brows set on Real Housewives of Miami, I asked the doctor what she could do about the fine lines starting to appear around my mouth. She leaned in. “Do you smoke?” “No!” I said, indignant. I’ve only taken one drag on a cigarette in my life. Anytime...

Wow, WOW! What a fabulous turnout yesterday for the Emails That Sell workshop. If you missed any part of it or just want to relive the aha-fest, here’s the limited-time workshop replay. And here’s something else: I announced during the class that I’ve opened a sneaky side door to join my bestselling email copywriting course, Inbox Hero, for an enormous discount! It’s going to help make your emails... ✅ compulsively readable, ✅ powerfully persuasive, ✅ impossible NOT to open, and...best of...

Hey! Just so you don’t think I’m trash-talking my friend Suzanne, she’d admit this herself: Her email game used to kind of…suck. First of all, because she barely wrote any. She had a dormant list of thousands of writers, and they almost never heard from her. Ugh, I can’t. Do you know how much it hurts me to see a wasted email list? It’s like watching someone let their sundae melt. Give it to me, then! (Except you can’t give someone your email list — illegal.) Suzanne had always counted on...

“It started with twenty-five cents.” That’s the first line of Julie Chenell’s book, and as soon as I started it, I was hooked. I LOVE a rags to riches story. Julie grew up the eldest of three kids in a town her family couldn’t afford. She was laughed at on the school bus for their crappy-looking house and car. Years later, as a broke, stay-at-home mom, she made twenty-five cents online and realized something big. This internet thing could actually work. (You really never forget the first...

Hello Reader, I hope that you are well. I recently had the privilege of delivering a thought-leadership session to marketing visionary Brian Kurtz’s distinguished Titans Xcelerator, where I unpacked proprietary frameworks for leveraging narrative-driven touchpoints to deepen audience immersion and accelerate revenue generation across the email ecosystem so that — WAIT! DON’T GO! That wasn’t me, that was a PowerPoint deck speaking through my body. It happens when I forget to eat lunch. What I...

Guess what? One week from today, I’m teaching a live class to help you master the core business skill of writing emails that sell. It’s called… EMAILS THAT SELL Grab your free seat here. (Yes, there’ll be a replay.) Hey Reader, Do you listen to Amy Poehler’s podcast, Good Hang? Highly recommend. She’s a gem of a person. Her laugh is medicine. When I’m out walking and start scrolling things that make me mad and depressed (most of my social feed), I switch to Amy P and shove my phone in my...

Hey Reader, I'm still pissed about a meal seven full years ago, at a trendy, new restaurant in Northwest Connecticut — the sort with servers who ask, “Are you familiar with how our menu works?” (What’s that you say? The appetizers are smaller and designed for sharing, and then the entrees listed below tend to be larger? Mind blown!) It was an expensive place, which I’m fine with as long as you're getting something for your money. I’m not OK with it when the cheapest appetizer on the menu, the...

Hey Reader, I’m being rude to my husband, but you might say he’s being rude to me. He’s singing one of his songs. Not “Grandma’s Flaps,” a single dropped in Monday’s email, but a new cut called “Brown Town.” More of a chant, really, inspired by the dead hydrangeas he’s cutting. He wants me to participate, even though he knows I’m focused, writing you an email. I try to get emails done and loaded at least by the day before, but yesterday got away from me. I spent most of it tearing through...

Hey Reader, Five years ago yesterday, just as Steven and I were sitting down to lunch, my phone rang. I remember the date and setting because it was Steven’s birthday. We were staying in Hudson, NY, which we are for this birthday, too, and had driven to nearby Tivoli to try a restaurant we’d heard about from a chef friend. (The food upstate is bonkers, btw.) I’d been making an effort to stay off my phone and be, y’know, present, at least for the actual birthday itself. Steven and I do a lot...

Hey Reader, Age is weird. In my teens and twenties, when I was going out to meet friends, my dad would raise his eyebrows like he’d just seen a pan of fresh-baked brownies and ask (only half-jokingly), “Can I come?” He’d claim he felt as young as me and my friends, which I thought was f’ing weird. How would you feel like you’re my age when you’re 37 years older, popping Rolaids, and mostly bald? And you don’t know who Madonna is? Now, I kind of get it. In one way, I feel like I always have....

Hiiii! I’m very proud, because a li’l rant I recorded a couple of weeks ago has turned the marketing world on its head. It was about my latest pet peeve F-word. You know I’m a big f’ing fan of the original F-word, even if I don’t always spell it out in my emails. I’m also fond of variations like fakakta (Yiddish) and FUBAR (military speak), as well as the portmanteau — or fortmanteau if you will — fugly, and its mini-me, fug. So, obviously, it’s a different F-word. And since I publicly hated...