Premise Punchup: Clarifying the Message Behind Ann Handley's New Book
My first foray into the field of content marketing was at a tiny startup in Boston. We'd raised a Series A round of VC and brought in way too many sales people to accelerate growth. That's why I was there in the first place. They'd hired me away from the sales team at Google.
I didn't like sales, but I didn't like working for a big company more. I loved the startup idea, so I jumped ship despite the job not being my long-term idea of a good time. I thought, at a startup, my work could have an impact. I could swivel my chair and speak to the CTO. I could actually meet with the CEO (which I did every month, as I convinced them to add a clause that in exchange for me taking the pay cut needed to move from Google to them, I'd meet with the CEO one-on-one every 30 days).
At a startup, I thought I could make things that mattered. But I knew it was time to transition out of sales, so in addition to my main gig, I started writing for the company blog. Good thing, too: they eventually laid off everyone on sales hired the same day as me ... except me. They asked me to pivot into this new, emerging thing called "content marketing." I became their director of content. At the time, I knew what editorial meant. I knew what creative meant. I didn't know what content meant, so I began searching for resources and role models.
That's when I discovered the work of one Annabelle Beatrice Handley the Fourth, better known to millions of people as Ann Handley. Because that's her actual name.
I read her book Content Rules, co-authored with CC Chapman. I followed her on a fledgling social app called Twitter. I found her articles wherever they popped up.
I'M gonna be a marketer like THAT. A content marketer with a SOUL. A content creator who also squints hard at the word "content" because of the cheap Tupperware vibe it gives off.
Ann's presence in marketing felt familiar and hopeful to me too: a true writer's writer but in this new profession of mine.
That was in 2011. I'd found myself a role model. A source of hope. Little did I know, years later, we'd be friends! (D'aww.) In the years since, I've been happy, honored, and if I'm being honest, routinely gobsmacked to get to know Ann as a person. And yanno what I've learned?
She's the worst.
Just kidding.
She's just like us!
She questions her writing, stresses over deadlines, agonizes over a given idea—nay, sentence—nay, word.
These days, there are very few people I text about work more than Ann, and we're united in our beliefs around creativity, storytelling, writing, craft. Also? Chunky sentences. Standalone thoughts. Adjectives.
One thing I love about Ann: while she's accomplished a lot and is clearly a world-class writer, she does two things most won't:
She finds joy in the ugly drafting process. She understands the mucking about and messing around is where you find your best.
She is more concerned with getting it right than being right. She doesn't let her initial ideas or drafts become synonymous with her self-worth, nor does she let her outlier success create any complacency or sense that she's earned the right to not improve. She's fascinated with the idea that, in matters of making, the well runs ever deeper.
Big same.
So it's no surprise she saw my punchup for Joe Pulizzi and went, "Yep, I can get behind that."
Because that's what the greats do. They constantly improve. Always becoming, never arriving.
(Rubs palms together.)
Alright, enough making you comfortable enough to relax and read the rest of this, Ann. (You knew I had to!) We're ready to analyze the premise and propose some alternatives.
Let's cook this turkey.
Ann's Current Premise
Her upcoming book is titled, ASAP (As Slow As Possible): For better ideas, braver decisions, and a richer life.
The subtitle is a work-in-progress, but the title (ASAP) is set. The current subheadline reads: The faster path to clarity, creativity, and joy.
Here's the description as Ann writes it today:
"In a world obsessed with speed, choosing to slow down is a joyful rebellion. Slowing down isn’t falling behind. It’s how you choose to get ahead.
We’ve been told to move faster. Hustle harder. Optimize everything. But what if that’s the wrong goal?
What if the secret to better outcomes isn’t more speed—but more strategic slowness when you need it?
ASAP: As Slow As Possible is a joyful rebellion against the cult of urgency. It’s a practical, research-backed, story-filled guide to slowing down. Not all the time… only when it matters most—so you can think more clearly, create more meaningfully, and live with more purpose.
It’s time to reclaim your time, energy, and attention in a world that wants to hijack them."
She goes on to say this book is for anyone who feels stuck in a cycle of “busy” with no clear direction, burned out by always-on culture, pulled between purpose and productivity, and ready for a new way to work, create, and live.
"Whether you’re a marketer, leader, creative, parent, student, or just someone who wants to feel more present in your own life—ASAP is for you."
What I'm Noticing
The line that jumps out to me is this:
"Slowing down isn't falling behind. It's how you choose to get ahead."
A regular-old premise would be a regular-old assertion. "Babies always cry the moment you sit down to rest." But we're in the business of change and leadership, so our premises are different. Ours create a before-and-after effect on the audience. We pivot away from the conventional, accepted wisdom and move them towards something better. This creates a kind of tension that helps the communicator (that's you and me and Ann) evolve from an informational expert to a transformational voice. It's not about being bigger or louder to be "transformational." It's about the change.
"Slower is better" doesn't articulate a change. It's more like "babies cry when you sit down" than an effective premise in our work.
Ann says instead, "Slowing down isn't falling behind. It's how you choose to get ahead." In doing so, she is pivoting people away from the cult of urgency, constant optimization, hustle culture—and the misconceptions of "slow" in that reality—towards something better (namely, a more considered, proactive, chosen path or direction).
This is still about your success, however you define it. It's not about making a tradeoff you dislike ("Oh, go slower because it's good for your health, but hey, it'll be bad for your work.") Nope! Ann says, essentially, "What you want is better served by moving ASAP: as slow as possible." It's not anti-speed. It's about strategic application of slowness when it matters most.
Brilliant.
Punching It Up: Some Options
Here are a few ways I might add to Ann's existing power with how she articulates the premise. These are knee-jerk, messy ideas, not meant to replace Ann's (nor have I spent even a fraction of the time on this that Ann has). Instead, I hope this sparks some ideas—in Ann perhaps, but mostly in you. This is the thought process we go through to sharpen our ideas into ownable premises.
Option 1: Making the paradox explicit
"The fastest way to get ahead is to slow down when it matters most."
This creates a delicious little pop of paradoxical messaging that stops people in their tracks. It more explicitly states that slowness IS the path to speed, not opposed to it. It's my riff on "slow is smooth and smooth is fast." But since that idea already exists, maybe we move on...
Option 2: Play to the moment
"When everyone and everything moves faster, slower choices can lead to greater results."
This plays to the idea that the world has gone mad (mad, I tells ya!). I don't LOVE this one to be honest, so let's punch up the punchup with another rev:
"In a world obsessed with speed, slower choices can lead to faster results."
I don't know if Ann actually believes this, but I'm playing around with some language here and there, changing the first clause and drawing a sharper contrast between "slower choices" and what the slower choices get you: faster results. (That's the part I don't know that Ann would actually agree with.)
This revision lets me "try this on" for a possible fit, which is what we want to do with our ideas and especially the language we use to clarify and refine our ideas to the public. We take it off the rack of loose-hanging ideas that is our brains and actually wear it for a moment. We do that by writing or speaking it, maybe even creating content about it for a time. Then we put it back if we want, but with a greater understanding of what to try next. Same pants, but need to hem them a tiny bit, or maybe, Welp, that looked much better on the mannequin! Need to find something that actually fits ME.
Option 3: The good-versus-good choice
Often, an effective premise gives you a "good-versus-good" statement. If I said, "Accounting should be simple," that's not effective as a premise. It's obvious, not actually ownable, and nobody would disagree. I've made an assertion, but it's not a defensible assertion, nor does it differentiate me or convey anything that would cause anyone to pick me or my organization. But when James Clear says this, it's clearly a "good-versus-good" comparison: "You don't rise to the level of your goals. You fall to the level of your systems." There is merit to both goals and systems, and even he'd agree. But he's giving you an insightful reframe and, in his case, reordering of priorities.
A good-versus-good comparison for Ms. Annaford Handleforth might sound like this:
"You don't need to move faster. You need to know when to move slower."
Clear before/after. Acknowledges both have merit but reframes the priority. Though I'd like to have both sentences match a bit more (the second is too long, and it felt clunky and incorrect to write the first to say, "You don't need to know when to move faster.")
Option 4: The joy angle (playing off her "joyful rebellion" language)
If there's one thing we all know and love about Hand Annley, it's the joy and warmth and optimism she infuses into her writing. Maybe we find the premise language that way? How about...
"The cult of speed steals your joy. Strategic slowness reclaims it—and gives you better results."
This adds the emotional dimension while maintaining the practical outcome promise. It's a little wonky to read it back, and it also feels a little overdramatic perhaps (the cult of speed!), but there might be good fruit on the Tree of Joy, Warmth, and Optimism.
Option 5: My current favorite
"In a world obsessed with speed, your competitive edge is knowing when to slow down."
Clean. Practical. Memorable. Adjective.
There's a clear tension. There are two "goods" people might want (they want to move fast and they want to slow down). The before/after effect is explicit, but it isn't preachy.
It also lets Ann further sharpen the rest of her message, which is in part the point and the power of a great premise. It's not a tagline. It's the lens through which you see, align, and thus communicate everything. For instance, further down the page, she could update this line:
"Slowing down isn't falling behind. It's how you choose to get ahead."
...to a sharper version, like this:
"Slowing down isn't falling behind. It's how you get ahead—if you know when to do it."
That last clause adds some specificity and qualification and, I believe, additional power and influence. It also increases the likelihood that skeptical people embrace her message. She's not advocating for slowness always but rather strategic slowness. This builds on my favorite premise pick, because that line uses the qualifier "knowing when to slow down," rather than saying simply, "slow down, period."
I know Ann is trying to speak to folks outside the business world, or at least help professionals in matters outside of work as much as during business hours. That might mean "competitive edge" needs to swap out for another phrase. But I still like landing here as the sharper version or merely the sturdier starting point to test:
In a world obsessed with speed, your competitive edge is knowing when to slow down.
What do you think? Did I punch up Ann's premise? Which of these "alts" did you like best, and how might YOU punch up my punchups?
You can work with ME to punch up your premise by hiring me as your 1:1 advisor who's with you on the journey from informational expert to transformational voice. We'll refine your ideas, design your IP and signature speech, and align your actions publicly so you have an easier time of winning more and better opportunities, with less friction. Go from chasing to being highly sought. Learn about my services at jayacunzo.com/services
Or you can simply reply, and I can share details on my process, pricing, and a third, mystery P word that only my clients get to know. Maybe.
Thank you to Ann Handley (love you lots) for allowing me to do this, and for her genius, generosity, and a third, mystery G word that only Ann will get to know when I text her this essay later. Maybe.
Subscribe to Ann's exceptional newsletter and buy her books. Watch for her ASAP book soonish.