I Am Changing How I Use Social Media: MORE Social, LESS Media

I have been changing how I use social media, and want to talk a bit about the ethos I am trying to keep as the center of it: MORE SOCIAL, LESS MEDIA.

Why am I doing this? A few reasons:

  • To ensure social media remains something more than a promotional tool for me.
  • To not feel overwhelmed by all the “opportunity” to broadcast stuff across 8 social networks at once.
  • To encourage more of what I love: true 1:1 connections with real people.
  • To discourage what I don’t love: that feeling that everything I see is link-bait, trying to get me to click click click instead of slow down and interact with real people in small ways.

So there are some very practical actions I have been taking:

  • I am no longer scheduling (or Buffering) posts on Twitter. This is a big one, as scheduling allows you to feel as though you are getting the maximum value of “exposure” on Twitter, without actually having to show up all the time.
  • Finding a unique purpose for each social media channel I use. I don’t want to just cross-share the same post everywhere, but not really being present in each of these places. Rarely do I share the same thing on multiple channels. So the intention is to use Facebook differently than Twitter that Instagram, and share different things on each network.
  • Sharing more original photos and original content overall, and AGGREGATING less. As I mentioned before, I LOVE the generosity of sharing links to others, and I plan to keep that as a core way I use social media. But… I don’t want to see my role as a “newspaper editor” on social media, sharing links to dozens of articles per day. So, for example, I am now using Instagram more since I like how I get to see original photos my friends and colleagues share.
  • Checking in on other channels I haven’t used as much (EG: Google+ and Tumblr) to try to slowly discover a special differenting purpose for each, even if I’m not actively sharing stuff on them.
  • Resisting strategic-only and promotional-only uses of certain social channels. EG: using Google+ JUST to build Google juice, or using Tumblr JUST to promote my courses.

These actions are based not on “best practices,” but what FEELS right. After all, my goal is to have wonderful experiences and small moments with other like-minded folks.

This is a process, and one filled with little decisions that don’t seem as straightforward as I’d like them to, such as:

  • I’m owning up to the fact that I can’t be everywhere.
  • I’m being honest that I want to respect each channel, each community. I still have no idea how to use Google+ in a distinct manner from Twitter or Facebook. And I resist just sharing the same stuff there as a mere obligation. Likewise, I think Tumblr is amazing, but have yet to FEEL a way that feels important and unique to me. That is actually the social channel I feel most guilty about not using more because I KNOW how lovely their community is.
  • I feel pressure to “MAXIMIZE EYEBALLS” on social media to help move my business forward by just broadcasting 100 posts per day across every social channel. And I try hard to resist that pressure.

As you approach how you use social media, I would encourage you to forget what is expected. Forget “best practices” that feel hollow, that put you on the treadmill of always trying to keep up with yet another social media channel, and never feeling connected to real people because of it.

But I will be clear about two things:

  • There are no rules, and PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ignore my advice if it doesn’t feel right to you. Use social media in a manner that you enjoy.
  • I am not judging how others use social media – I am simply reflecting on how I am using it and the deeper value I try to help writers and creative professionals find when using it.

Using social media means you are likely always doing a couple of things:

  • Improvising constantly.
  • Making yourself vulnerable.
  • Searching for meaningful moments amidst a feeling of solitude.

I want to relate all of this back to how we do these things in real-world situations, because to me, social media is very much about the human things that haven’t changed regardless of “Like Buttons” “Pins” and “ReTweets.”

Let’s use an example from one of my favorite moments in music history: U2 playing Live Aid in 1985, and how that relates to finding a HUMAN CONNECTION amidst one of the biggest media events in history.

The band had about 15 minutes on stage, and the reality for Bono is that he is one person on a stage in front of 72,000 people in Wembley Stadium, and nearly two billion watching live worldwide. Because he is a “rockstar” it can be easy for us to forget how hard that responsibility is – to create a special experience for billions of people within 15 minutes.

Midway through their set, Bono goes completely unscripted. Watch what happens 6 minutes into this song – when Bono drops the mic with a loud thud, and beings to wander offstage:

What you see is Bono playing with boundaries, looking for personal connections, and INTERACTION, not mere promotion of their music.

These are the actions he takes in those 6 minutes, and what we can learn from them:

  • He explores the physical limitations. He wanders to the very front – to where only the TV camera is supposed to operate, and then to the far right side of the stage, then all the way to the far left. These are the boundaries set for him, and there are big bays of TV cameras and photographers at either side, representing the MEDIA of the event.
  • He focuses on individual faces, not the crowd in aggregate. He spots one person in the crowd, and motions to the security guards to bring that person over the barrier, and onto the stage. What comes next is frustration for Bono – NO one in the event staff is prepared take that action. Bono kills an entire minute onstage with his actions getting lost in translation, because the event staff wasn’t trained for this, and could care less about it. They are focused on managing tens of thousands of people, not on allowing one to pass through.
  • He takes a leap of faith based on what feels right, not what is logical or expected of him from others. He jumps down what was estimated to be a 20 foot drop to reach the stadium floor. It happens so quickly in the video you almost don’t realize how nuts this was.
  • He dances with a member of the audience, slowly. Touching ONE person meant a lot to him, it demystified the goal of the concert, from MEDIA to HUMAN. I think that with social media, we are often encouraged to consider social media as MASS MEDIA, which is why folks tend to love the idea of “going viral” – that this is all about scale. But I think the best use of social media is what happens between two people – JUST two people – and that is enough.
  • He allows the crowd to participate As he climbs back on stage, Bono grabs the mic again and resumes the song, but quickly begins exploring again – singing impromptu covers versions of other people’s music. He holds out the mic so that the audience can sing along and be heard.
  • He kept improvising forcing his band to do so with zero notice. You can see him giving them physical cues as to what they should do throughout – to bring the music up or down, or to cut the guitar completely.

None of this was planned, and in fact, Bono walked off the stage with the other members of his band incredibly furious at him. He thought he had just broken up the band, and relationships were strained with them for weeks. The following quotes are from the book U2 by U2:

“The band were very, very upset – they nearly fired me. My own depresson continued for a few days.”
– Bono

Why? Because that last 6 minutes was supposed to be saved for them to play their big single – the song they wanted to promote. As the band’s manager watched, this is what he felt:

“I was on the side of the stage with my heart in my boots because I thought he’d completely fucked it up. I couldn’t see him, I didn’t know where he’d gone. Afterwards we all though he had completely blown it.”
– Paul McGuinness

But as days passed after the concert, something unexpected happened. The result of Bono trying to make their performance SOCIAL and not MEDIA is that viewers found it to be a highlight for the event. It became a watershed moment for the band:

“All of U2’s albums went back into the charts and their status took a huge jump. Nothing was really quite the same again because now everyone knew who Bono was.”
– Paul McGuinness

“Looking back, as I did a week later, I started to see what it was. It was the sense of real, total jeopardy, which is always very exciting for a live event, and Bono’s complete determination to make physical contact with the crowd and eventually getting there after two minutes of struggling over barriers. I think there was something about the amount of effort he had to put in to do it that somehow made it even more powerful.”
– The Edge

It was a human moment, and the effects of those 6 minutes still affect the band to this day.

For how you use social media, forget what is expected. Instead, focus on individual human connections.

Thanks!
-Dan

Anatomy of a Book Blurb: Lauren Groff

This is part of the Bittersweet Book Launch case study, where Dan Blank and Miranda Beverly-Whittemore share the yearlong process of launching her novel. You can view all posts here.


by Miranda Beverly-Whittemore

“In Bittersweet, Miranda Beverly-Whittemore prizes up the veneer of an old, privileged American family to discover depths of intrigue, power, and menace beneath. In its guise as a coming-of-age mystery, the book is both swift and arresting; that the novel also doubles as an insightful meditation on class, aspiration, and longing makes the book reverberate in the reader long past its final line.” —Lauren Groff, New York Times bestselling author of The Monsters of Templeton and Arcadia

Lauren is a friend of a friend. He was very generous to put us in touch back in the fall, and she was incredibly generous to email me back such a warm, enthusiastic “I’m really going to try!” right away. I admire Lauren’s writing tremendously, and felt such an affinity for Arcadia, first of all because the hippie world of that place was not wildly dissimilar from my upbringing, and second of all because her book, like Bittersweet, is potently about  place. Arcadia, as she writes it, comes alive like a character, and that’s something I aspired to do with Winloch in Bittersweet.

When I first contacted Lauren back in the early fall, I sent her a bound copy of my book. Then, in mid-November, I sent her a copy of my galley. This give me an opportunity to remind her who I was, and she was, again, absolutely warm (and didn’t need to be reminded who I was, which was blush worthy). Like so many of us, Lauren has a tremendous amount of obligations, and I knew it would be down to the wire if she’d be able to write a blurb or not. An earlier version of myself would have hesitated to nudge her again, but I did just that in the new year, and she replied with a blurb that pointed out something I’m thrilled to have noticed: that underneath the book’s “swift” exterior, it’s a “meditation on class, aspiration, and longing.”

I know Lauren worked hard on this blurb and that it came at a very busy time in her life, and for that I’m very deeply appreciative. She’s a tremendous writer, and I’m so excited to read what she publishes next. But in the interim, I simply want to say thank you. It’s a real form of grace to do something generous for someone you don’t know, especially when you have accomplished so much.

Likable Female Characters and Likable Female Writers: How do they intersect?

This is part of the Bittersweet Book Launch case study, where Dan Blank and Miranda Beverly-Whittemore share the yearlong process of launching her novel. You can view all posts here.


by Miranda Beverly-Whittemore

First, it was the Claire Messud interview in Publisher’s Weekly, the one where she was asked if she’d want to be friends with the protagonist of her most recent novel, The Woman Upstairs. Her reaction is best summed up, I think, in this exchange:

PW: I wouldn’t want to be friends with Nora, would you? Her outlook is almost unbearably grim.

CM: For heaven’s sake, what kind of question is that? Would you want to be friends with Humbert Humbert? Would you want to be friends with Mickey Sabbath? Saleem Sinai? Hamlet? Krapp? Oedipus? Oscar Wao? Antigone? Raskolnikov? Any of the characters in The Corrections? Any of the characters in Infinite Jest? Any of the characters in anything Pynchon has ever written? Or Martin Amis? Or Orhan Pamuk? Or Alice Munro, for that matter? If you’re reading to find friends, you’re in deep trouble. We read to find life, in all its possibilities. The relevant question isn’t “is this a potential friend for me?” but “is this character alive?”

After this interview came out, there was much kerfuffle on the literary internet, mainly (at least in what I read) in support of Claire Messud. I loved what Kelly Braffet had to say on the matter in Salon:

We, as writers, need to stop making ourselves gun-shy about our characters’ likability. There is less of a gulf between ourselves and our readers than we are occasionally tempted to think. Yes, there will always be characters that some readers just don’t want to read about, but I think most readers can experience a character who is neither a Mary Sue nor a Humbert Humbert – someone who makes bad decisions, and is a bad friend, and doesn’t make adequate arrangements for the care of their companion animals before leaving town – and still care about their story: how they got there, how they’ll get out.

Then Roxane Gay weighed in on Buzzfeed, and that was pretty great too:

In many ways, likability is a very elaborate lie, a performance, a code of conduct dictating the proper way to be. Characters who don’t follow this code become unlikable. Critics who fault a character’s unlikability cannot necessarily be faulted. They are merely expressing a wider cultural malaise with all things unpleasant, all things that dare to breach the norm of social acceptability.

And finally, there was this comprehensive piece on Jennifer Weiner in the New Yorker, which kind of pitted Weiner against Messud on the likability front:

Weiner had been particularly bothered by Messud’s response to an interviewer who had suggested that Nora Eldridge was not the kind of character a reader might want to befriend. “If you’re reading to find friends, you’re in deep trouble,” Messud had replied, citing other fictional characters who were not B.F.F. material: Humbert Humbert, Mickey Sabbath, Hamlet, Oedipus, Antigone, Raskolnikov.

“Novels were absolutely, positively not there to serve the petty function of helping people feel connected,” Weiner went on. “And if you believed that—if you wrote that way, or if you read that way—then, by God, you were Doing Reading Wrong.” Messud’s comments had left Weiner with “a sinking heart, and an unhappy sense of recognition. Once again, as a reader and a writer, I was out of step, out of fashion.”

All of this has very interesting to read and think about ever since the debate “started” (although, let’s be honest, this debate has been going on since long before Messud was asked the likability question by Publisher’s Weekly). I’ve bandied about all sorts of thoughts about it, and talked to fellow writers about it. I see Messud’s point, and I see Weiner’s. Bittersweet’s protagonist, Mabel, is prickly but not necessarily unlikable, and as I wrote this book, I definitely walked this line purposefully, pushing Mabel into slightly uncomfortable territory (she’s a liar, and a spy, and a striver) while retaining some fundamental moral center. Did I do that because I thought more people would read it? Well, no. But I was writing a book that I hoped many people would want to read, so perhaps decisions about who Mabel would be came, unconsciously, out of such a desire.

All that aside, what I’ve found myself thinking, when my mind floats back to this “likability” question, is not as a woman who writes female characters, but as a writer who is a woman.

After all, isn’t that the heart of this conversation? Likability isn’t just a character trait, it’s a human trait, and it’s one that many women are taught to put forth first and foremost. Looking back on my life, I can see that I have always been someone who has wanted to be liked. It’s awful to see it written here that frankly, but the truth is that personal likability has mattered to me all my life; one of the reasons that I’m happy to now be in my late thirties is that, for the first time in this journey, I’m really fine with not being liked. I don’t obsess over it like I use to, probably because I’m more comfortable in my own skin than ever before.

On that note, in no particular order, with no scientific method, are a few recent events in my working life, all of which I’m seeing through the filter of this likability question, all of which have to do with female writers:

Last week, when I wrote a blogpost about my dance with Failure, I was moved and thrilled to get a lot of responses. Many of these responses were privately written to my inbox, many said “boy, I can relate,” and the overwhelming majority of them were written by women. What surprised me was how so many of these messages either directly addressed or hinted at the idea that I was saying something that they wanted to say but felt they couldn’t. Why couldn’t they, I wondered? I got the sense, time and again, that they felt they needed to be silent because they were afraid that if they spoke up and said, “I’m angry” or “I’m sad” that they’d sound, well, unlikable. I could certainly relate; I’ve done the same more times than I can count.

Also last week, I was given the chance to look at an article that’s being written about me in conjunction with Bittersweet’s publication. The article’s author mentioned to me that both myself and another writer featured in the article had expressed concern, once reading it, that we sounded too braggy when discussing what we felt were our writerly strengths. “But,” the author’s article replied, “those are your strengths! And isn’t it fantastic you know that?” Then she mentioned a male writer she’d once met just before a book of his (which ended up being very well received) came out. She asked him what he was working on, and he told her the working title, then added: “It’s going to be huge.” We both laughed as she recounted this tale- who in their right mind would say such a thing about their own work? Then again, he’d been right. Who would say such a thing? “Well,” she pointed out, “a man.”

Finally, this fall I asked a female writer for a big favor. She was not someone I personally knew, but we had a tenuous connection. And yet, it was a big favor, one I felt somewhat uncomfortable even asking. I was proud of myself for being brave, and excited she was warm in her response to help me. When it became clear it was going to be hard for her to help me, it absolutely understood (I knew it was a longshot). So I was surprised, when she apologized, to hear how vehemently she regretted not being able to help me. She apologized profusely, used the word “ashamed” to describe her current state, asked if I would forgive her. I assured her I understood completely, and, ultimately, she was able to help, which I very much appreciated. But when I initially heard back from her, I wanted to reach out across the ether, link my arm in hers, and say to her, “It’s okay, you don’t need to worry, I still would like/ admire/ honor your attempt to help me, even if you couldn’t.” I think, in many ways, I was talking to myself; I know I’ve done the same thing on more than one occasion. And yet, I wondered, would most male writers even bat an eye?

I wonder what would happen if some of us stopped worrying so much about being liked. Or at least being liked so much. I wonder how that might change this conversation. If we were deemed “bitchy” or “needy” or “demanding” as a result, could we agree to decide not to care about that? I’m not sure I have the answer to that, even for myself. But it’s something I’m thinking about.

Some Nice Things Are Happening

This is part of the Bittersweet Book Launch case study, where Dan Blank and Miranda Beverly-Whittemore share the yearlong process of launching her novel. You can view all posts here.


by Miranda Beverly-Whittemore

This is part of the Bittersweet Book Launch case study, where Dan Blank and Miranda Beverly-Whittemore share the yearlong process of launching her novel. You can view all posts here.


by Miranda Beverly-Whittemore

Tweeted by Stephan Lee of Entertainment Weekly.

So that’s what’s making me smile today.

The Questions To Ask BEFORE Asking “How Do I Sell More Books?”

“How do I sell more books?”
“How do I get an agent?”
“How do I get published?”

While these are fine questions, they are often asked too soon. There are OTHER questions you need to answer before you should ask those listed above.

For instance, before you ask “how do I get published” you need to ask questions such as:

“Is the work good enough?”

And before you answer “YES! I spent 3 years on it,” you have to consider the concept of empathy. In other words: if your path to publishing requires others to partner with you (an agent to sign you, a publisher to give you a deal, a bookstore to give you placement) you have to consider their goals and motivations.

I want to be clear here first: if you are writing this book SOLELY for yourself, then when you say it is “good enough,” it is 100% done. As I have said before, not everything needs to be shared. But if you REQUIRE partners in this process, you may need to consider how your goals align with theirs, better understanding their needs and motivations.

When an agent rejects a book, why is that? Well, let’s consider their motivation for signing an author (and this is a made up list by me, I’m not an agent, so I am just guessing here):

  1. They LOVED the book. They got hooked, couldn’t stop reading, and it spoke to their heart.
  2. The book perfectly aligns to a niche market they focus on, and they feel they won’t have a problem selling it or that it will find a readership.
  3. You already have an audience, have established credibility and a platform with an existing audience. You are someone that people have already proven they want to hear from and would buy a book from.

There are likely many other reasons, and motivations would be different for each and every agent.

My friend (and client) Miranda Beverly-Whittemore shared a brutally honest post this week about FAILURE in her life as a writer. The list is astounding, and she was clear to point out that her upcoming release was rejected by everyone, before she revised it based on the feedback she received, and was able to sell it. In other words: even though she is a seasoned author and crafted a book she was proud of, she had to continue learning what would speak to the partners in her publishing process.

She even shared this exact process for her efforts writing her next novel:

“The powers that be have let me know that they think my next book isn’t exactly, 100% right, that maybe the vehicle by which its aboutness is delivered is off. It’s a funny thing, to go from writing in relative obscurity for years, to suddenly having people—professional people, like not my loving and supportive husband, for example—care what is coming next. A younger version of my self might have resisted such suggestions, but I’m older and wiser, and dammit, I want my publisher to be as in love with this next book as they are with BITTERSWEET.”

Another question I hear more often than I would like is: “I heard an agent/publisher say that they won’t consider signing a book unless the author has 10,000 followers on Twitter. Is that true?”

I always chuckle at that. But I also shiver, because it can easily send a writer down the wrong path – searching for a “magic number,” not the things that really matter: crafting good work, finding the right partners, and connecting with ideal readers in meaningful ways.

So what is the question you ask before “How do I get 10,000 Twitter followers?” Well, let’s dig back into empathy, and consider why would an agent or publisher ever say that? What are they really trying to say? My guess:

“Can you prove to me that their is an audience for this book, and for you as the author?”

Now this is a more simple straightforward question. And when you realize that, the Twitter number has a context, but more importantly: you become EMPOWERED to know how to ensure your goals and the agent’s goals align.

It allows you to ask questions such as:

  • What would be a “win” for this agent? How do they define success, and how does that relate to what I offer them?
  • What are her/his challenges in selling a book to a publisher?
  • If they want to see there is an audience for my book, what OTHER metrics can we use? EG: a newsletter list with 1,000 people, a certain number of media mentions, affiliations with large organizations, previous book sales, speaking engagements, etc.

It gives you a wide range of options to work with, instead of one silly naked number: 10,000. Which really, you can’t do much with, and I would be willing to bet is not at all the magic number folks make it out to be.

I have been considering this idea of “asking the wrong questions first” in a variety of other contexts. One is the age-old question for runners and those who workout: DO YOU STRETCH BEFORE YOU RUN, OR AFTER? My friend Donna Flagg is a dancer and runs Lastics, which is all about the value of stretching. She wrote this article that put things into context: When to Stretch.

An oversimplification of the article: you have to ask different questions FIRST:

  • Where you are on a continuum of flexibility?
  • Have you been injured? Are some muscles naturally tighter than others?
  • What type of workout activity will you be doing?
  • How do you feel (when you workout and otherwise)?

Why ask these questions? Because everyone is different, and the answers help determine
how to provide the maximum benefit of stretching with your workout.

Another example about asking the right questions first is in how to brew a really good cup of coffee. This has been a little hobby of mine recently, and it is fascinating what I have learned. Too often, we focus on the wrong question first, which for coffee is about the brewing method. Everyone seems to have their favorite: Keurig, drip, french press, AeroPress, Chemex, etc. And because you have to buy that equipment, you tend to do this research first, and then validate that decision later on by saying things like “I LOVE MY FRENCH PRESS!”

But the brewing method is NOT the right first question! What are the right questions? Here are some:

  • How fresh are your beans – when were they roasted?
  • Tell me about how your beans were grown.
  • How do you store your beans?
  • How and when do you grind your beans?
  • What is your water source?
  • What ratio of water do you use?
  • How long do you brew?

For the most part, these questions align to nearly ANY method of brewing. And they make a profound difference in the resulting cup of coffee. In other words: timing and balance matters more than the object you use in brewing.

At least, that is what I have found so far after reading lots of articles, watching tons of YouTube videos, and of course, tasting lots of coffee at home and at different cafes. Your mileage may vary.

So how do you sell more books? Maybe these questions should come first:

What you are looking to do here is to not place an unreasonable burden on others – such as expecting MAGIC from Goodreads, Facebook ads, your literary agent, your publisher, or a publicist. All of these communities and individuals are partners in a larger process, one where you need to come to them with some answers before you ask these bigger questions.

For your career as a writer, it all begins with the source: your writing.

To connect that writing to others, it is about developing your ability to know, understand, and engage with the right audience, the good folks who have access to them.

-Dan