The best way to fail: just don't care who reads your newsletter.
Two emails asked 5,248 clinicians for the same thing. Only one mentioned the law.
A publisher swapped its curator for an algorithm and the numbers didn't notice.
...and you need to make sure that you use the right colors.
A $799 giveaway inside.
One redesign cut opens from 31% to 12% and a paywall lost to a plain ask
One honest roast, one checkbox worth 11,000 signups, and a font nobody can see.
Your best-performing email may have been a hit with robots.
A 10-min footer, some LinkedIn posts and two teenagers outreading Wall Street
A name in the sender field or a segment in the send?
Multiple budgets, zero owners.
The issue still ships, at a length the week earned.
A machine will grade your draft now. Your readers always did.
Bots are crashing our dashboards.
Nineteen out of twenty readers won't act this week. Here's what to do with them.
The one-person everything department might fail you harder than you think.
Escape the inbox that forgot your name.
And you thought your prompting would handle everything perfectly.
But your subscribers will always remember you, even if they unsubscribe.
Consistency looks like nothing, until it looks like everything.
And it's worth more than your next ten issues
OMG Gmail, stahp!
Also seems like the newsletter folks are running away from platform taxing.
The $315 receipt hiding in your week.
To begin with, at least.
