OK, guys, chill out! I'm not talking Marriage here. 'M' is for marketing.
But writers protest. 'Not me, I'm an artiste. Marketing is so bourgeois. Boring. Bothersome.'
Move over, ego. Get humble, get real, and get busy!
Everybody has something to sell. Shrinks sell hours with a lick, a promise, and serious pharmaceuticals. Garbage men sell out-of-sight, out-of-mind. Churches sell redemption.
The fact isn't going away. If you're going to succeed you need to sell. The sticky icky part is that you're selling your talent, true or imagined. That annoying little detail quickly rises to the top of the quicksand of procrastination.
I published an article on an extraordinarily successful living artist. An oxymoron at its finest. “Obviously he’s a huge talent," says a collector. "He doesn't hesitate to promote his work"..."in this competitive market you can’t sit around and wait to be discovered." Full article link below.
Is it beyond your comfort zone, this marketing? Probably. Johnny Mathis sings it best in my all-time favorite song, Arianne. '...what a writer has to feel like when suddenly he's discovered he's been read.' To listen to the lyrics see link below.
We are our commodity. Some will embrace our driven souls. Some will scoff. All will know we're up at bat!
My pitch today? I'm tweeting a character interview. Find me on Twitter @ lalacorriere.