Mary Diaz, Entrepreneur, Writer, femme feral LLC

This interview is with Mary Diaz, Entrepreneur, Writer at femme feral LLC.

Mary Diaz, Entrepreneur, Writer, femme feral LLC

As a copywriter, can you tell us about your journey into this field and what initially sparked your interest in the art of persuasive writing?

I came to copywriting as a poet first. Language has always been more than communication for me—it's been a form of communion. The cadence of a sentence, the tension in a metaphor, the weight of a well-placed pause... I've always been drawn to the beauty in the words.

But I was interested in more than just beauty. I was curious about how language moves people, gets them to FEEL something real. What makes someone trust you, buy from you, believe in you—just from a handful of sentences? That curiosity led me to the art (and science) of persuasive writing.

Over time, I found my own sense and rhythm: voice-driven copy that converts and connects. Strategy layered in with story. I see my work as translating a brand's inner truth into language that resonates outward—clearly, honestly, powerfully.

What's the most valuable lesson you've learned in your copywriting career that has significantly impacted your approach to crafting compelling content?

The most game-changing lesson I've learned is that copy isn't about convincing—it's about connecting. When someone's reading your words, they're not just looking for information. They're feeling into whether they can trust you. Whether you see them.

So I don't chase clever hooks or manufacture urgency. Instead, I listen for the quiet motivations behind someone's desire—the longing for ease, recognition, safety, freedom—and I write from that place. Not to exploit it, but to honor it.

Because when you connect with someone's inner "yes"—without agitating their pain or overpromising solutions—you create a relationship built on trust. And trust is what makes a message land, linger, and lead to action.

Can you share a specific campaign or project where your copywriting made a measurable difference in results? What strategies did you employ that led to its success?

That trust isn't a byproduct of great copy—it has to be the starting point. And trust is built through genuine emotional connection, not pressure tactics and vapid, fluffy language.

One of the most impactful campaigns I've written was an email series that led to a 20% sales conversion rate (not an open rate, actual sale conversions!). Not because it agitated pain points or dialed up urgency—but because it was rooted in empathy. I used my CARE Framework (my solution to the outdated AIDA formula) to write from a place of emotional clarity: connecting to what the reader truly wanted, amplifying their vision, and speaking with honesty and warmth.

That experience cemented what I now know to be true in every project: when people feel safe, seen, and respected by your words, they respond—not just with clicks or purchases, but with loyalty. And that kind of resonance can't be faked. It has to be felt.

In the age of AI-generated content, how do you ensure your copy maintains a human touch and authenticity? Can you provide an example of how you've tackled this challenge?

You can feel it when writing has presence. When it sounds like someone sitting across from you, not performing at you. That's the standard I work from.

One client—a therapist-turned-coach—came to me with launch copy that an AI tool had drafted. It technically covered the bases, but it didn't sound like her. The rhythm was off, the tone too generic, and it missed the calm, grounded energy people naturally trust her for.

So I scrapped it and rewrote the entire sequence using my CARE Framework. Not just tweaking language—but tuning into her emotional rhythm, her lived experience, and the kind of spacious, clear guidance she offers in real life.

The result? A sold-out launch. But even better—DMs from people saying, "I felt like you were talking right to me." When people feel seen in good copy, they naturally trust. And when they trust, they buy.

During your European backpacking trip, you mentioned finding inspiration in unexpected places. How do you incorporate these real-world experiences into your copywriting to make it more relatable and engaging?

There's nothing like traveling solo with two kids and a laptop to sharpen your sense of what actually matters. We were in Marseille when we turned a corner and ended up in the middle of a street breakdancing battle—it was spontaneous and magnetic and so...alive. That kind of unexpected moment—colorful, chaotic, full of energy—is what I try to tap into when I write. It reminded me that people respond to what feels real, not rehearsed or polished. And that the best copy doesn't just deliver a message—it makes someone stop, feel, notice. That's how I try to work, whether I'm writing in a hotel lobby or on a train: eyes open, grounded in real life, always listening for what resonates.

You've worked with clients across various industries. Can you describe a time when you had to quickly become an 'expert' in an unfamiliar field to write effective copy? What was your process?

Well, for one thing...I ask a ton of questions. Any good writer does. And being willing to not be an expert is actually an asset to good writing because it challenges you to translate and communicate despite jargon and knowledge gaps. I worked with a client in a deeply technical field—regenerative agtech, with layers of science, policy, and legacy-farming dynamics. I knew I wasn't going to become an expert overnight, so I focused on becoming a fast, respectful translator.

My process was part research, part listening. I asked a lot of questions—basic ones, strategic ones, the kind people are sometimes afraid to ask. I also paid close attention to how the client actually talked about their work, not just how they described it on paper.

From there, my job was to bridge the gap between what they knew intimately and what their audience needed to understand in order to care. Not by dumbing it down, but by finding the emotional throughline—the why. That's where the real clarity comes from.

Thanks for sharing your knowledge and expertise. Is there anything else you'd like to add?

I think a lot about how AI is changing the way we create—and it's true, it can be a powerful tool. But only after you're rooted in your own voice. Your message. Your why. If that part isn't clear, AI will only amplify the noise. But when you're anchored in your truth, you can use it to support the process—without losing what makes it yours. That deeper clarity—the soul of the thing—is what really moves people. And no tool can replicate that. It has to come from you.