From $3 ashtray to $101 antique

In 2015, my mom got really sick.

She’d lost a lot of weight. Insomnia was keeping her awake for nights on end. And none of the doctors she went to could figure out what was wrong.

Still, she was working two jobs. Day in and day out. A true superhero, really.

And if things weren’t bad enough, my father came home one day with even more bad news: he’d gotten laid off from work.

Which meant that my mom had to become the sole provider of our household until he figured something out.

But when you live in a small Romanian town like we did, finding a new job is never an easy task.

And so, my family and I were going through the bumpiest patch of our lives.

That’s when I discovered I could make a sh*tload of money to help my family out

Back in 1949, a psychologist from the University of Wisconsin set out to study primate behavior.

Harry Harlow and a couple of his colleagues set up an experiment.

They got some monkeys together, prepared a simple puzzle, put the puzzle in front of the monkeys and watched the scene unfold.

The scientists expected the monkeys to show disinterest.

But when the monkeys saw the puzzle, they began solving it. Immediately. With zero treats or incentives.

Over the next 14 days, Harlow and his team watched the monkeys problem-solve away their days.

Instead of losing interest and wandering off, the monkeys kept getting better and faster.

That’s when Harlow proposed a theory:

What if monkeys – and their distant relatives – actually found problem-solving intrinsically rewarding? And what if people found challenging, engaging tasks fulfilling and would happily do them not because they had to, but because they wanted to.

The scientific community thought both Harlow and his theory were ridiculous.

Humans? Motivated by work? Please.

Everyone knows you’ve gotta dangle the fear of punishment and the desire for payment over their heads. Otherwise they turn into good-for-nothing slobs.

So Harlow didn’t bring his observations up again. He wanted a career and going against the scientific consensus meant its certain death.

But a theory of this magnitude wasn’t destined to die.

Over the next decades it would be picked up by others, tested in companies like Intel, and go on to drive the structure of tech darlings like HubSpot, Basecamp and Google.

But we’ll get back to Harry Harlow (and how his ideas affect your business) in a moment.

First, let’s have a quick chat about the question every adult in your social circle felt obligated to ask when you were five:

What do you want to be when you grow up?

Most stories have three parts:

• A beginning sketching the problem

• A middle part showing how the problem was solved

• A final part explaining how the hero lived happily ever after

But an opening story can remain unfinished. You can simply sketch the problem. Because the remainder of your post shows readers how to solve it.

When I started writing, I didn’t believe I had any creative talent.

But I wanted my messages to stand out.

Because I wanted to be heard.

Encouraged by the guidance in Anne Miller’s book The Tall Lady With The Iceberg (formerly titled Metaphorically Selling), I mustered the courage to write my first metaphor.

My secret to embarking on this creative journey?

Foster a sense of fun. Get away from your computer. I get my best ideas while making spicy meatballs, pedaling my bike, or when listening to the murmur of rain on a walk.

I also started hunting for sensory words and created my own collection of favorites. That’s how my writing improved and my voice evolved.

Even better … people engaged with me because the metaphors gave them a glimpse into my life. The metaphors turned out to be excellent conversation starters.

To write a powerful closing story, think about your readers’ objections to implementing your advice. Did you experience the same struggle? Can you explain how you overcame it?

If your search engine visibility isn’t where you want it to be, it’s probably because you’re targeting keywords that are way too competitive.

In fact, this is a mistake that I made back in the day.

When I first got started with keyword research, I’d choose keywords that got lots of searches.

So when I found a keyword with 9k searches per month I’d say: “Great! That sounds like a keyword I should target”.

Unfortunately, a lot of these keywords had super high keyword difficulty scores, like this:

Which meant I had pretty much zero chance of ranking for that keyword. Even if my content was outstanding.

Which is why I recommend focusing on long tail keywords.

Long tail keywords usually have low levels of competition in SERPs.

This means you have a good shot at cracking the top 3 results.

For example, a while ago I targeted the long tail keyword: “Semrush vs Ahrefs”.

Because that keyword wasn’t insanely competitive, I was able to rank in the top 3 for that term within a month or so.

Today, my search engine visibility for that keyword is around 27%.

Nice.

Imagine you haven’t cycled for years.

And you really don’t know much about bikes.

But you want to get fit again, and biking seems fun.

You go to your local bike store and tell the super-sporty-looking shop assistant you’re looking for a bicycle to tour around the area. Leisurely.

He tells you full of enthusiasm a hybrid would be ideal and shows you a few popular models. This one has 24 gears and it has cantilever brakes. That one has a Shimano drivetrain and disc brakes. And here’s a model currently on offer – it has an aluminum frame and hydraulic disc brakes.

Huh?

You have no idea what the guy is talking about. He makes you feel stupid. You feel like running home and giving up your plan about getting fit again.

Sounds strange?

It happens all the time on websites.

• The first part sketches the problem that I don’t feel I have creative talent

• The middle part explains how a book nudged me to try, how I fostered a sense of fun, and how I went hunting for sensory words

• The last part shows the impact my creative journey has had on me

Stories transform dull tips into sparkling information and sticky advice. They turn lackluster lessons into engaging adventures.

And what’s more…

Stories help you stand out from the drab blogging crowd. Your content becomes unique because nobody tells the same stories as you.