Can you teach an old dog new tricks? That’s what we’re going to find out. My newest novel, A Murder Unseen, is polished and published. Though it feels like now I should stop, relax, and take a deep sigh of relief, I know that is not the case. The journey has just begun. Now comes marketing.
For one who would have loved to live in the era of writing under a pen name and being the mysteriously anonymous writer, for one who was raised to not toot one’s own horn or promote self, marketing can be viewed as downright embarrassing. It cuts across the grain of how I think, of who I am.
Somehow, I’ve managed to write and sell two books without drawing excessive attention to the fact that I’ve written them. What an accomplishment, right? Not really. I’ve found there’s another type of embarrassment when friends you’ve known for years looked shocked at the revelation that you’ve written not only one book, but several. Why were they never told? Um… . How do I explain my secret obsession with writing?
There remains the fact that people don’t buy books they don’t know exist, that marketing while trying to remain as invisible as possible really isn’t marketing at all. Yes, I sold books. Yes, I broke even. Yes, I made a profit. However, I didn’t sell enough books to warrant continuing writing books—and I love to write. Therefore, does it not make sense to learn to market if only to justify the time and energy put into the creation of my books? Can you teach an old dog new tricks? I’m not sure, but I’m willing to try.
- The invisibility problem in self-publishing (teleread.com)