Freelancers using Google Docs in LondonFreelancers using Google Docs in London
Creative Experience Technologist
1x
Hired
5.0
Rating
6
Followers
Creative Experience Technologist
Helping Wellness Brands Turn Visitors Into Clients
New to Contra
Helping Wellness Brands Turn Visitors Into Clients
Cover image for Sage the Cat Will Now
Sage the Cat Will Now Destroy Your Productivity System. Welcome back to the chaos! If you’re reading this, it means you survived Rage Writing. Your drafts folder now has triceps. Your coffee shakes have coffee shakes. And Spamuel L. Flexson is proud. (Or at least sweating in approval.) But today, we’re not screaming at the blank page. We’re screaming at the lie that keeps you from even opening the damn doc: Inbox Zero. That slick little productivity myth dressed in pastel SaaS colours and vague shame. You know the one. The promise that if you just reply to everything fast enough, if you archive the newsletters, flag the threads, drag the ghost of a boundary across your Gmail tab, you will finally feel clean. You won’t. Inbox Zero is the same lie as “one last scroll” or “I’ll just check my DMs real quick.” It’s an emotional pyramid scheme run by the cult of completionism. Meet Sage the Cat: Chaos Coach Supreme She’s been here the whole time. Lying across your keyboard. Interrupting your flow state. Judging your font choices. Sage knows the truth. She’s the spiritual opposite of your Sunday reset YouTuber. She runs Unsubscribe With Intent circles, wears anxiety like eyeliner, and once headbutted a Google Calendar into flames. Sage says this: “Clarity isn’t found in a clean inbox. It’s found in what you refuse to delete.” Your voice isn’t hiding under the pile of unread emails. It’s trapped under what you’re scared to send. What This Teaches (Because Yes, This Is Still a Copywriting Newsletter) 1. Chaos is the creative default. If your inbox looks like a haunted attic, good. That’s proof you’re doing stuff. You’re making. You’re moving. You’re ignoring that one Slack DM with 17 threads and a “gentle nudge.” 2. You don’t need clarity. You need courage. The good emails, the punchy, weird, honest ones… don’t come from a tidy mind. They come from mess. From movement. From burning the to-do list and writing what won’t shut up in your head. 3. Inbox Zero is the enemy of bold writing. Because bold writing is inconvenient. It interrupts. It stinks of effort and panic and whatever emotion you were pretending not to feel when you opened that draft at 11:49 pm. Today’s Workout: Candle. Keyboard. Chaos. Here’s what you’re gonna do: Light a candle (any candle… Sage likes ones that smell like passive aggression). Pick a draft you abandoned last week. Don’t clean it up. Don’t start over. Add 100 more words to it: the weird ones, the rude ones, the ones you’d say if you weren’t trying to “sound like a brand.” Hit save. Walk away like you just left a flaming bag of truth on someone’s porch. We’ll edit later. Or not. (That’s Sage’s entire coaching strategy, btw.) Inbox Fit Club We don’t chase clean slates. We chase chaos with conviction. P.S. Next time on Inbox Fit Club… Ever wanted to write emails like “Cocaine Nun vs Sharknado”? Good. You’re spiritually ready for the Gritty Reboot Writing Framework: where subject lines hit like trailers, and every call to action sounds like a threat. Stay unhinged.
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Cover image for Rage Writing, Spamuel, & Why
Rage Writing, Spamuel, & Why Your Drafts Folder Has Abs Right. So here we are. This newsletter wasn’t planned. It was summoned. Born in a comment thread. Fuelled by espresso, glitter-scented rage, and two readers who laughed so hard they: Disrupted a live AI training Collapsed during barre class Spiritually peer-pressured me into creating this chaos factory So thank (or blame) them. What you’re reading now is Inbox Fit Club: a safe space for dangerous ideas, subject line CPR, and emails that read like cursed movie trailers. There are no gentle reminders here. Just creative threats, muscular metaphors, and Spamuel L. Flexson screaming “OPEN RATE = HEART RATE” from a BOSU ball. Let’s get into it. Why Rage Writing Is the Only Gym Your Copy Needs Most writing advice sounds like it was focus grouped by a yoga cult and a room full of dried up PR interns. “Just take a deep breath and let the words flow...” No. Absolutely not. You’re not a babbling brook. You’re a carbon-based meat sack with a caffeine addiction, abandonment issues, and a deadline. You don’t need flow. You need fire. Enter rage writing. It’s the Inbox Fit equivalent of flipping a tractor tire made of inbox guilt and unresolved tension. It goes like this: Turn off spellcheck. Lower your expectations into a shallow grave. Write like you’re possessed: By a character from Trainspotting or the ghost of a disgruntled marketer who died during a Slack sync. Don’t think. Don’t pause to ask “Does this align with brand voice?” Spamuel says brand voice is what you yell when you stub your toe. Why This Hits Harder Than a Caffeine Overdose You know when you’re too mad to cry, so your body just sweats through your teeth? That’s the energy rage writing taps into. Rage writing bypasses the two demons of your inbox: Polite Perfectionism (aka The Ghost of Marketing Past) Content Shame (“This is dumb, no one wants to read this, please delete yourself immediately.”) It throws a kettlebell at both. Your first draft isn’t supposed to be good. It’s supposed to be true. Messy. Loud. Feral. Like your inner monologue after someone says "circle back" unironically. That’s where the gold is. That’s when your voice starts sounding like you, not a motivational LinkedIn post wearing too much cologne. Why Your Drafts Folder Has Abs Spamuel L. Flexson (our overly caffeinated yak mascot) says this: “Abs are made in the drafts folder.” Here’s the deal: Write like a wild animal on espresso. Edit like a sniper aiming for the head. Your mission today? Rage-write an email. Just one. Don’t fix those damn typos. Don’t try to perfect the CTA like you’re crafting the Mona Lisa. Just get the words out and let them burn. You’ll come back tomorrow, machete in hand, and carve the good stuff out of the wreckage. What’s left will be weird, raw, and absolutely worth sending. The bones of something only you could write. Something real. Something that doesn’t need permission to exist. PS: Oh, and next time? We’re diving into something a little darker. Ever wondered if Inbox Zero is just another government psy-op? Let’s just say… it’s time to embrace the chaos. Trust me, you’re gonna want to see where this goes.
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Copywriter & SEO Content Writer
Copywriter & SEO Content Writer
Web Designer for Trading, Fintech and AI Products
$5k+
Earned
6x
Hired
4.7
Rating
124
Followers
Web Designer for Trading, Fintech and AI Products
Everther Studio — Media Buying, Web Development and Kajabi
$1k+
Earned
3x
Hired
5.0
Rating
31
Followers
Everther Studio — Media Buying, Web Development and Kajabi