by Lake

Sometimes Dead Is Better:

What Stephen King’s Pet Sematary Can Teach Marketers About Brand Resurrection

In Pet Sematary, Louis Creed learns the cost of ignoring natural endings. The death of his son is unbearable, so he turns to an ancient burial ground that promises resurrection. But what comes back isn’t what was lost.

The real horror of King’s novel isn’t the reanimation of the dead. It’s our refusal to let go. To accept loss. To allow something to stay buried.

Marketers are no different.

We cling to old campaigns, tired taglines, and “legacy products” long past their expiration date. Why? Because they used to work. Because we spent too much time and money on them. Because, like Louis Creed, we’re too close—too emotional—to see the truth.

And so we dig them up. We give them a fresh coat of paint. We whisper, “Maybe it’ll be different this time.”

But the truth is what King told us decades ago:

Sometimes dead is better.

💀 The Curse of Nostalgic Marketing

Maybe it was a killer campaign back in 2016. Perhaps it’s the product helped build the brand’s name. Maybe it’s something that the top exec simply loves . None of that means it belongs in your playbook.

The reason is simple: time marches on and everything changes. The moment has passed. The market has changed. The consumer is no longer the same.

Trying to revive a message, product, or anything that’s no longer relevant is like bringing back a body without a soul. It looks familiar but your audience can smell the rot.

At left, the cover of Stephen King's 1883 masterpiece Pet Sematary. At right, Church the cat, just back from the dead, shares a moment with Ellie.
At left, the cover of Stephen King’s 1883 masterpiece Pet Sematary. At right, Church the cat, just back from the dead, shares a moment with Ellie.

🧟‍♂️ Zombie Campaigns and the Illusion of Safety

Zombie campaigns are easy to spot:

  • They reuse old headlines that once converted but now fall flat.
  • They cling to dated visuals or voice because “it’s always been our look.”
  • They repeat the same brand story even though the customer’s pain point has evolved.

It feels safe. But it’s as dangerous as bringing back a loved one from the dead.

Because nothing eats marketing credibility faster than false storytelling, AKA lying. When you’re dragging the corpse of past success through your current messaging, the audience knows it; and assumes you’re stopped caring.

🪦 Ask Before You Resurrect

Before you dig up that old campaign, that classic tagline, that beloved-but-dusty brand mascot—ask yourself:

  • Why did it die in the first place?
    Was it the wrong message, or just the wrong time? And has that changed?
  • Has the customer changed?
    What mattered to them then might not matter now. Don’t assume they’re still grieving the same pain.
  • Can it come back better—or just back?
    There’s a difference between evolution and resurrection. One moves the story forward. The other reanimates the past.

🕯️ Let It Go, or Tell a New Story

The best marketers know when to close the book. Not every campaign deserves a reboot. Not every brand is meant to be eternal.

Sometimes the best way to honor a product, a campaign, anything is to acknowledge what it taught you and let it rest. Then come up with something new. Because in branding—as in horror—resurrection without reflection leads to monsters. “What you bring back may not be what you lost.”

Sometimes, dead is better.

by Lake

The Long Walk and Marketing

What Stephen King’s Bleakest Novel Teaches Us About Life, Brands, and Marketing

The Long Walk is Stephen King’s bleakest novel. It’s a slow and punishing read that feels vaguely like staring at an accident; you know you should look away; you want to look away, but you don’t. You can’t.

Photo by Canva’s AI

If you’re not familiar with the story:

Once a year, 100 teenage boys compete in a marathon called the Long Walk. It’s a battle of endurance supervised by robot-like soldiers. When a boy slows down once too often, the soldiers shoot him.

The last boy standing (meaning, the last boy alive) is the winner.

Throughout the story, the contestants remain in motion, surviving one painful step at a time, even as merciless exhaustion, cramps, hunger, and mental collapse sink in.

As if that’s not horrifying enough, the real horror surfaces when you fully grasp the theme. Once you see it, you can never unsee it; and it will haunt you.  

It will also remind you of certain brands…

Movement = Progress is a Big Fat Lie

Brands outlive their usefulness. Their once innovative products sink into a swamp of “me too” quicksand. Puffery and fake urgency keep the brand from drowning, but it’s an ongoing struggle.

The positioning remains intact, but the messaging rings hollow because the brand is focused on survival more than mission. The brand no longer matters. Eventually, nobody remembers why it mattered in the first place.  

That brand is no longer marketing. It’s walking, pretending that motion equals meaning. The end is always near, and it’s only a matter of time before it stumbles.

“You can’t help it. You love the idea of winning. Even when the game is killing you.”
— The Long Walk, Stephen King (writing as Richard Bachman)

by Lake

Book Review: Selling with Noble Purpose by Lisa Earle McLeod

What Marketers Can Learn from a Sales Strategy Rooted in Meaning

As a B2B marketer, I read lots of books about sales. It’s not that I want to “think like a closer” or step on anybody’s toes. Instead, I want to know as much as I can about the sales process so that marketing and sales can work together harmoniously. After all, in the B2B world, sales and marketing should be two halves of the same revenue-generating engine. The last one of these books that really captivated me was Selling with Noble Purpose, by Lisa Earle McLeod.

In Noble Purpose, McLeod argues that the best salespeople aren’t driven solely by quotas. They’re driven by a desire to make a meaningful difference in their customers’ lives.

The book’s thesis is clear and compelling:

When people believe their work matters, they work better.

For marketers, that idea should feel familiar. Our best campaigns—the ones that resonate and drive conversion for the long haul—aren’t built around product specs. They’re built around understanding the customer’s pain and a sincere belief that our solution can alleviate the pain.

But here’s where it gets complicated.

Noble Purpose Isn’t Always Obvious

Let’s get real: There’s no line on the balance sheet for “noble purpose.” And some brands haven’t been noble in a long time.

A legacy brand, for example, may have started with a clear sense of mission, but somewhere between me-too products, lackluster launches, and dismal sales numbers, it slipped away.

That’s where strong marketers make all the difference.

What Marketers Can Do

Whether you’re launching a campaign or revisiting brand positioning, the lessons from Selling with Noble Purpose still apply:

  • Always start with empathy. Before you talk about features, talk about how a real person’s life is better because of what you offer.
  • Frame messaging around impact, not product. What changes for your customer after they work with you or use what you’ve built?
  • Reconnect with the origin story. If the brand’s noble purpose got buried, dig it up. Find the spark. Adjust your strategy so that you reignite it in your tone and visual every second of the day.
  • Push leadership to articulate “why.” This is essential because when sales and marketing are aligned around the purpose, you generate more than revenue. You generate long-term trust and loyalty that blocks competitors for years to come.

Seems to me that it’s worth it because, as McLeod reminds us:

“People want to make money. But they want to matter more.”

Grab your copy of Selling with Noble Purpose here.