Glossy bookmarks with images of my books on them. Business cards with my picture and a QR code. “Sell sheets” for Murder at Old St. Thomas’s and Bummer at Luna Beach. Envelopes for sending out information cards for H.G. Wells and Science Education to libraries who had indicated interest via a listing I paid for. All into the recycle bin.
Ending most of my marketing efforts was not an easy decision, but it was made thoughtfully. Many writers have promised themselves that if the marketing tasks of their profession overtook their writing, they wouldn’t engage in them. For awhile it was possible for me to convince myself that creating Facebook and Instagram posts, learning the vagaries of Amazon algorithms, and schmoozing popular writers was not interfering with my own writing. If you read this blog, you know it’s never been a comfortable fit.
Some of us, as we age, are less able to undertake multiple things at once. Others find some of those things less worth our time. In my case, the low sales of my books have many possible causes, including my own unwillingness to create enough memes, posts, and videos to have something “go viral”. Composing them not only pulls me away from my current work (since I must focus on things already completed) but encourages me to create for the wrong reason, the wrong people, the wrong places.
Who are we working for when we create a post or video on social media? We believe it’s for ourselves, to get our work “out there” and hopefully sell books. But when Amazon determines the value of my books by where they place them, and wants more and more money for the possibility of placement in their search, it means I’m working for Amazon. I am working for Meta when I increase traffic to Facebook and Instagram with my work. I become a “content creator” for Pinterest, a videographer for YouTube, a staff writer for Medium or Substack. When I make sure my SEO is optimal, I’m working for Google. Even as a purchaser of ads, I become a graphic artist and a copy writer for someone else.
I am a marketer lucky enough to quit before I am fired. I laud the writers with the talent and drive to create interesting content in support of their books, to attract attention without being extreme or garish, to create writer personas without violating their family’s privacy, to engage their readers and make them want more. These wonderful authors have risen above the cynicism, paid to take the courses in understanding Amazon and Facebook tactics, beaten the algorithms, and successfully brought in the money they need. Some of them, bless them, “write to market”, researching what’s selling and publishing new books with great efficiency and attention to detail.
While I knew that I could never make a living writing my own stuff, and I love the web for giving me a place to release to the public whatever I like, and I love writing the books I want to write, I admit I wasn’t prepared for the sheer amount of self-selling, meeting of market needs, and jostling for position that being an indie author demands. Instead, I will dispose of most of those trappings. Yes, I still have a website, and will still have a table at book events. But my focus will be on creating more and better work based on my own themes and desires. I will design something else.
