It's the age-old question: What should I write in my emails?
And, I have a freaky new answer.
But first, let's back this beef train up. 🚃
Last week, I told Claude to check my email every hour and ping me about any important emails that would benefit from an immediate reply.
My literary agent writes me, for example. Or a journalist wants to interview me. Or a client is having an issue. Or I've received an invitation from Phil Rosenthal to come hang out with him in New York. (Dreams, bitches.)
This is helpful because it keeps me on top of anything time sensitive, while preventing me from going down the rabbit hole of INBOX DOOM. Which I will do. As I suddenly get distracted by an email from a woman named Tabitha in Iowa who wants me to know that I sort of kind of resemble her cat, Rolls. (As in, my neck rolls? Because I am sort of losing my jawline.) And then I'll open up the Beehiiv update. And the Kit update. And I'll read every newsletter about the state of the email marketing industry. And the AI industry. And probably the banana peel industry, were that a thing.
So instead, I've turned Claude into my personal security guard.
My muscle at the door, if you will. 💪
Strictly only necessary interruptions (or it's off with your head!).
This is emphatically, jumbo-sized-hot-dog levels of critical when you work for yourself. You can't let the whole wide world interrupt you whenever it pleases. The person who has no time, has none not because they haven't got enough, but because they have used what they did have, poorly.
(Did you know the average knowledge worker checks their email 15 TIMES during the course of the work day? And, did you know that every single time they do it, it takes them 23 minutes to refocus after checking their email?????? Source.)
Ew, I never thought I'd be into "productivity," but turns out, what I AM into is having a life. You can only do so much before you burst.
So, anyway, as I'm over here rigging up my work-life balance / standards / healthcare plan, suddenly this absolutely HORRID thought crossed my mind:
If I'm already using Claude to read me certain emails *outside* of my inbox . . .
And, before that, I was already using Superhuman *inside* of my inbox . . .
And, before that, Gmail had already introduced AI summaries of emails . . .
What if the future of email is . . . inbox free?
And, what will that mean for the future of email marketing?
I thought about it in the shower.
I thought about it in the car.
I thought about it while waiting for the nice lady at the deli to slice my ham.
I mean, I am an email marketing die hard. Email marketing is what I live, sleep, eat, breathe, and puke. And to imagine a future where there's no more inbox? THAT IS LIKE TELLING ME THERE IS NO MORE PIZZA. LIKE, EVER AGAIN. BANNED FROM THIS EARTH.
And don't you dare give me that cauliflower wannabe.
Turns out?
Gmail reports that open rates are actually up, BUT—here's the kicker—click rates are actually down. The email still arrives; a machine reads it, decides whether you exist, and hands you a summary.
Summary.
That word.
That word is ☠️ death ☠️ to a writer.
To be summarized is like saying that the craft of writing no longer matters, only the information.
BUT, BUT, BUT!
That isn't true, is it.
We know that isn't true.
We don't read exclusively for information. (Pretend I am saying this as if it is putrid plastic.)
We read—like, really read—because a human on the other side of the screen delights us. Sharpens our brains. Challenges our thinking. Offers a new and interesting POV. Makes us laugh. Makes us feel. Turns the act of reading into an experience.
Which means this:
The machines are not taking away from humans.
The machines are creating a market for humans.
CNN Business predicted 2026 would be "the year of 100% human marketing."
"Human made" labels are going to become a luxury differentiator.
Brands are going to charge premiums for authentic human work.
Soul is going from "free ingredient" to "premium ingredient."
And???
If your emails are unmistakably human, they're going to become a premium, too. They will be sought out by your readers. Readers will still open, read, and reply to the kinds of emails that feel like a fun experience; a break in their day; a boost of their mood. Readers will instruct AI to make sure your emails are delivered in their full form, not a summary. And?
They will value your emails more.
The machines aren't killing email. They're killing boring email.
So the key at this stage in the game?
Let. Your. Freak. Flag. Fly.
Please.
Finally.
It's time.
Who cares if it sounds like a diary? Who cares if you don't have the perfect name? Who cares if it's not perfectly formatted? Who cares if you don't always know the answer?
Write like your weirdest, most wonderful self. Forget the rules. Say what you think. Be a total goofball. Have fun out there. Stop overthinking it. Stop trying to make this big, professional newsletter. Start writing a personal newsletter. Start writing something that feels like a fun-loving, free-spirited letter to a friend. Start writing something that has "you" written all over it. Be quirky. Be eccentric. Be sensational. Be deep. Be thoughtful. Be complex. Be so impossibly human, AI couldn't summarize you if it tried.
The key to email in the future is YOU.
And, here's one last fun fact:
You know what Hubspot's newsletter survey revealed?
Newsletters featuring personal opinions and hot takes generate the highest open, click, and conversion rates. Opinion-led, personality-driven newsletters outperform informational formats on every engagement metric. And??? The more distinctly yours the voice, the more irreplaceable your newsletter.
Moreover:
Personal newsletters convert at 5% - 25%, which is wayyyyy more than their big-box branded counterparts.
So, not only will they open your emails?
They will buy from them, too.
Personal is the email of the future.
The rest of it won't be an email at all.
It'll just be a summary.
That no one heard.