Publishing Matters in More Ways Than You Think
How I began to view sales and marketing in a more positive light
When my first book was being published, my friend Tim asked me how many copies I hoped it would sell.
“I have no idea,” I replied, finding the whole idea embarrassing.
Tim wrinkled his nose. “Wouldn’t you like it to sell, say, one hundred thousand copies?”
I laughed, thinking that was about as likely as me getting invited to be on Oprah. “Sorry, I’m too much of a realist to think like that.”
He laughed. “Well, you won’t sell any books at all, if you don’t believe you can!”
I’ve never been part of the ‘you create your own reality’ club, so this type of logic annoyed me — almost as much as aggressive marketing annoyed me.
“What I believe is irrelevant,” I retorted. “I’m not going to go around trying to talk people into buying my book. I’m going to trust the process, and I believe the book will find its way to the people who need to read it.”
Tim stopped laughing, realizing that I was seriously opposed to any type of self-promotion. At that point in my life I had always worked in corporate jobs where I never had to get my hands dirty with marketing and promotion. As a result, I was both afraid of it and believed myself to be above it. Tim realized he would have to help me to understand why selling books (or any other worthy product) matters, before I’d be open to actually doing something about it.
He paused for a minute, and then asked me a question. “What does it cost for someone to buy your book?”
“The retail price is fifteen dollars, although you and I both know that Amazon will discount it.”
“Yes, that’s true, but many other stores or websites will charge full price. Just for the sake of argument, though, let’s say the average selling price is twelve dollars.”
“Okay,” I said, not sure where he was taking this.
“Now, what is your royalty on just one copy of your book?”
“That depends,” I said, but quickly realized he just wanted a ballpark figure. “It averages out to about 10% of the book’s wholesale revenue, so that means about 90 cents a copy.”
“Let’s keep it simple and say a dollar a copy,” he suggested. “So if you sold one hundred thousand copies, you could make as much as $100,000, right?”
“Okay.”
“But if it’s selling for twelve dollars, that means your book, your own creation, has actually generated about 1.2 million dollars in revenue, right?”
I did the mental math. “Yes, that’s right.”
“So in addition to you making a nice payday, you will have actually helped other people — from your publisher and your editor to the designers, proofreaders, salespeople, the printers, truckers, booksellers, and so forth — to make some money, too. Which means you’ve helped their families, their children. In other words, your book, your creation, your work, has directly helped other people to the tune of more than a million dollars — but only if it sells enough copies, right?”
I had never thought of it that way.
Rethinking Marketing
To me, marketing — especially if it were aggressive or pushy — always felt narcissistic, as if I would be saying, “Buy my book, because it’s better than every other book out there.” But in my rush to avoid being narcissistic, I was actually thinking in a very self-centered way. Authors only make a small fraction off of sales revenue of their books, which I’m sure annoys some people but I think it’s fair, because I know so many other people contribute to getting a book published — they work hard to help edit, produce and distribute the book. But all that work is done in service of the author and their creative vision.
The author’s creativity literally generates wealth, for multiple people — but only when the book sells.
In my distaste for marketing, I was ignoring the fact that my book actually could help dozens if not hundreds of other people to earn their daily bread. I didn’t want to do a lot of marketing because I didn’t want the world to view me as selfish. But holding that position also meant I wasn’t doing anything to help all the other people who had worked to help me get my book published.
Tim wasn’t done with me, though. “So in addition to helping so many other people generate abundance for their lives, think of the hundred thousand people who will actually buy and read your book. It will be a blessing to them, right?”
Suddenly I felt humble. “Well, I hope so.”
“Carl, your publisher and all the others wouldn’t be helping you to get your book out there if they didn’t believe in it. So why don’t you believe in it! Your book can help people. It might not save their lives or transform them completely, but if it’s insightful or enjoyable, it will be worth reading. So with that in mind don’t you want all those people to read your book?”
His logic was unassailable. “Yes,” I admitted.
Tim smiled. “I rest my case. I hope you will begin to think about why it matters for you to go out there and promote your book.”
I certainly can’t say that I turned into a marketing juggernaut overnight, and to this day I remain allergic to pushy marketing tactics. But I began to see promotions — as well as the role that content creation can play in generating abundance for many people — in a new light.
I began to understand that creative work is relational — and that for an author, more relationships matter than just the author-reader relationship. I began to feel so much gratitude for the many people involved in helping a book make the journey from an idea inside my head to a published title that people read, review, discuss, and debate. I began to see writing not only as a personal creative endeavor, but as a contribution to the community at large.
If you are reading this, and you are working on a book (or have one published), I hope you’ll ponder Tim’s way of seeing things. I hope you will find joy in letting others know about your work. I hope you will appreciate that even if it’s not a bestseller, your book can still be a blessing to many people.
P.S. And please, buy some of my books! 😇 Visit www.anamchara.com/product-category/books to check them out…