Category: Author platform

THE GOAL IS NOT TO PUBLISH A BOOK, BUT TO BE READ – TO IMPACT READERS

Are you a writer who is passionate about your work, but find it difficult to build an audience? What you need is an author platform – a strategic way to find the exact right audience for your writing and build a strong relationship with them.

This FREE 1-hour webinar explains the value of building an author platform, the biggest challenges to creating one, and some of the essential steps in the process. I will also be outlining the upcoming online course I am teaching: Build Your Author Platform.

My last webinar filled up, so please register early for this one which takes place on Wednesday October 24th at 2pm ET. You only need your web browser to attend.

There are limited spaces for this webinar, to reserve your spot, click here:

Thanks!
-Dan

Education doesn’t stop when you become successful.

Constant improvement is an attitude.

Education is a process, not a destination.

A lot of people hope that once they become successful, they can stop working so hard. That from there, you can just coast because the world has finally realized your genius.

Unfortunately, that is not the case, and some of the smartest folks I know realize this. One of the most pleasant surprises of teaching my Build Your Author Platform course for writers has been having bestselling authors join the class, and take the work as seriously as if they were an up & coming writer who was working on their first book.

Time and time again, I find that I will have an author in the class who has published multiple books with big publishers, and here they are working diligently every week to find new ways to grow as a writer, and to connect their work with the right audience.

These people have a professional credo. (something Steven Pressfield talks about in his book Going Pro.) Their attitude is one of improvement, not entitlement. Of establishing good habits, not protecting their ego. They are always growing, always learning.

There is this incorrect assumption among a lot of folks I speak to, that think courses are only applicable to the inexperienced. So if I mention my course to them, the immediately suggest an “older” writer who needs helping figuring out social media; or a new author with no platform whatsoever. And while I work with LOTS of those folks and love doing so, its important to point out that some of the best students are those who are not going from level 1 to level 2, but from level 99 to level 100.

These people are opening themselves up to learn more, to rethink, to become better, to have a deeper effect on others.

They are building skills.

They are connecting art to strategy.

They are focused on PRESERVING their muse, not selling it out.

A professional invests in knowledge. In resources. In cultivating relationships. They are not waiting for an imaginary day when success means that the world will make things easier for you.

Success is hard to achieve, but what people don’t realize is that it’s hard to maintain too.

If you want to be successful, start building the right habits now.

Thanks!
-Dan

There is a difference between a Twitter follower and a true fan. The difference between the click of a button, and making sacrifices. Many of you are creators – writers – hoping to engage an audience around your work. Today, I want to talk about the sacrifice that true fans make to experience the work they align with, and the sacrifices that the creator makes to live up to the expectations they set.

And I want to talk about the ideals that bind a community together – that is the basis for the connection between creator and fan.

To frame this discussion, I am going to use Bruce Springsteen as an example. If you don’t care for Bruce, then just imagine that I am talking about a performer, creator, writer, or artist that you adore.

My brother and I went to one of his concerts recently, and stood on line for 12 hours to ensure we were up front when he performed. This doesn’t include the 3.5+ hour show that came at the end of the 12 hour wait. Here is the journey of that day:

My brother and I got to the stadium at 10am, there were 200 people already lined up, and more arriving by the minute.

It didn’t take long for the first 1,000 to arrive, following soon after by another 1,500 fans.

The event staff is well trained in this process, and know many of the regular fans. The first 1,000 people get wristbands, then a lottery is taken. The winning number is the first to go in, followed by the rest of the 1,000 people. Another group of 1,500 follows them in.

Here is the road manager (with the megaphone), getting the wristbands ready:

Getting our numbers:

I got 217:

Meanwhile, the tailgaters who won’t be a part of the lottery arrive and begin relaxing in the parking lot:

The guy in black is holding the canister with the lottery numbers, as he ushers in the winner:

It’s getting later, but the weather forecast calls for lightning, so they move us inside, but not on the field. Not a bad view, for New Jersey:

We are corralled into these long ramps, where we wait for more than 3 hours for the storm to pass:

The hours are passed in conversation with fellow fans:

They even evacuate those who were seated to wait out the lightning:

In the background, the rain comes pouring down. We wait and wait, as the show is delayed by nearly 2 hours:

Finally, they begin letting us in, a quick march down the ramp:

The event staff tries to check wristbands:

But it’s clear there is little they can do to keep much of an order, everyone is moving to quickly to the field:

Finally, we take our places. I’m maybe 10 rows back, the furthest I have been to the stage out of several recent Springsteen concerts:

And this is what you wait for… music:

55,000 people pack the stadium. Bruce is in the spotlight in the middle:

The crowd points in unison:

The entire band takes a bow:

Why would a fan wait for 12 hours on pavement in order to stand up front for a 3.5 hour show? Bruce explains it in a recent New Yorker profile:

“We hope to send people out of the building we play in with a slightly more enhanced sense of what their options might be, emotionally, maybe communally. You empower them a little bit, they empower you. It’s all a battle against the futility and the existential loneliness. It may be that we are all huddled together around the fire and trying to fight off that sense of the inevitable. That’s what we do for one another.”

Bruce represents things larger than himself to these people. As a writer, whether you know it or like it, the same applies to you. Ideals are reflected on you and back through you. What you create, how you share it, and the other ways that you connect with readers.

And that is the obligation. To live up to. For Bruce, he actively performs, seeks to make connections. It is not a passive act, there is an awareness. He says:

“Once people have bought those tickets, I don’t have that option,” he told me. We were alone in a vast, makeshift dressing room in Barcelona. “Remember, we’re also running a business here, so there is a commercial exchange, and that ticket is my handshake. That ticket is me promising you that it’s gonna be all the way every chance I get. That’s my contract. And ever since I was a young guy, I took that seriously.” Although there are nights when, in the dressing room, he feels tapped out, the stage always works its magic: “Suddenly the fatigue disapperas. A transformation takes place. That’s what we’re selling. We’re selling that possibility. It’s half a joke: I go out onstage and – snap – ‘Are you ready to be transformed?’ What? At a rock show? By a guy with a guitar? Part of it is a goof, and part of it is, Let’s do it, let’s see if we can.”

When we saw him, Bruce turned 63 at midnight. We spent 12 hours on line talking to a British couple who flew over to see all three shows played at this stadium. Three days of standing on line for 10 hours or so, plus the nearly 4 hour show each night. They are the same age as Bruce. At 39, I felt ravaged the next day, exhausted.

It’s not about age, it’s about desire.

Bruce has had the same diet and workout for decades, and it’s clear he pushes himself more and more the older he gets. He builds habits to giving, and then works hard to retain them. To do the work that few others are willing to do. As he says, it’s about contributing to a legacy:

“You have to understand that it’s a long road, and there have been people doing some version of what we’re doing on this tour going all the way back, and there will be people doing it after us. I think one thing this record tries to do is to remind people that there is a continuity that is passed on from generation to generation, a set of ideas expressed in a myriad of different ways: books, protests, essays, songs, around the kitchen table. So these ideas are ever-present. And you are a raindrop.”

Here are two other posts I have written about lessons Bruce has taught me:

• What Bruce Springsteen Can Teach Us About Creating A Community
• Instead of “Doing More,” Do Only What Matters, And Do It Really Well

Thanks!
-Dan

We don’t seem to reward slowness in our culture. I have been considering the craft of connection (how a writer connects with their readers.) The design of meaning (what separates the ordinary from the extraordinary.) The process of refinement (how we turn the good to the great.) And what productivity means when measured by quality, not just quantity (not just doing more, but doing only what matters, and doing it incredibly well.)

I recently finished reading A Field Guide to Now by my friend Christina Rosalie. She writes:

“It may be reasonable to say that we have more time now since we have invented machines to do the work we used to do. But what are we doing with all the time and ease we’ve gained, as our lives become easier and faster every second? Now that we no longer need to scrub our shirts or writer letters by hand, or walk to the general store for flour, coffee, and gossip, how are we using those precious minutes saved? The truth is, we fill most days as quickly as possible – as though the world wont wait if we go slowly; as though there isn’t time to simply be right there with reverie and focus.”

“The heart is not a machine. It does not have the capacity to love at any greater speed, or to feel anything more deeply when the pace is doubled. While fast is better for machines, we’re fools to live by such a rule set every day. Rushing every second, we forget that we’re capable of a certain quality of joy that can be arrive at only slowly, as time unfolds.”

When I work with writers and publishers, I am focused on providing two things: an immediate positive impact, and a meaningful long-term legacy. So I am always considering the quality of not just the work a writer shares, but how they share it, and the ways their identity, their brand, and their platform represents something more than just “great content at a great price!” (said with a saleman’s voice.) This goes deeper.

Sometimes, we talk too much about bestseller lists; about follower counts on social media; about metrics that are really just for our own vanity. We feel smart talking about these things, they sound professional and strategic. Don’t get me wrong: I teach courses about these topics, and realize how powerful they can be. But, much like Luke Skywalker’s mission at the end of Star Wars, there is something to be said for turning off the navicomputer.

I am thinking a lot more about being present. Of experience. Of in-person vs online. The qualitative nature of what constitutes a relationship. I see a lot of friendships online formed around a value proposition. If someone has a lot of “followers” and are considered an “influencer,” if you have a single interaction with them, you begin calling them a “friend.” Here is a great example of that from Marie Forleo (someone I really respect) introducing Chris Guillebeau (someone I really respect):

“We are going to talk to an amazing author. Someone I am friends with – just became friends with – but that I have known about for awhile.”

We talk a lot about community when we mention connection, both online and off. That an author needs to engage their community; that a brand serves a community. But what is often not mentioned here is that to serve a community requires sacrifice; it requires balance the needs of the many, not the few; that profit is the last thing to be valued; that it is more about giving than taking; that a thriving community does not all agree, is not all friends, and has a wide range of opinions; and that the process of connecting in that community is more important than any specific outcome.

Many conversations in the writing and publishing worlds are too focused on the wrong outcomes: revenue and sales as validation; popularity as the definition of good art; and pretending that the web has inherently changed the nature of relationships between people.

As we feel the pressure to rush, to do more, to achieve more in quantity, I am focusing considering how writers can find success, while also creating meaning. That this is the fabric of our culture, and the legacy we leave.

Thanks.
-Dan

Are you feeling overwhelmed? Not enough time for your writing, for your job, for your family, to maintain your household, for friends, for hobbies, for rest, and for exercising.

Too many people focus on managing their time. But motivation is the key. Your creative energy.

I work with lots of writers and publishers to help them develop an audience for their work. To ensure that their books and organizations have a positive EFFECT, and don’t just become another commodity in the marketplace; an unread book next to thousands of other unread books.

As you wake up each day faced with all of these responsibilities, all of these goals, all of these dreams – how will you manage it all? How will you find growth, and the ability to focus on strategy, not just the hamster wheel of the same tactics day in and day out? How will you be able to find the room to connect with your audience in a meaningful fashion, not just creating a product to deliver to them? How will you battle irrelevance amidst all of this endless, tireless work you are performing?

In this week’s New Yorker, there is a profile on the fancy New York restaurant 11 Madison Park. This was formerly owned by famed restauranteur Danny Meyer, and was bought by his chef and general manager not too long ago. I have eaten at this restaurant a few times, always on someone else’s expense account. At the time I went, several years ago, it had a stellar reputation.

The article illustrates how the new owners completely revamped the restaurant to even higher praise. I think there is a lot to learn from this process. When the owners were looking for more critical respect, they read a review which said the restaurant “felt stodgy and needed a “bit of Miles Davis.” What they did with this vague suggestion was really intriguing to me:

“We had no idea what that meant,” Guidara says, laughing, “but we started to listen to a lot of Miles and read about him.” They made a list of words to define Davis’ music – “cool,” “collaborative,” “fresh,” “vibrant,” “spontaneous” – and hung them, along with a photograph of the musician, in the restaurants kitchen.”

Here was a highly successful restaurant who was so completely open to change. The owners took a tiny reference from a review, and challenged themselves and their staff to figure out how to live up to it.

Why is this intriguing to me? Because it illustrates the difference between obligation and desire. That the owners didn’t care about saving face in front of their staff, disregarding the review. They didn’t just post copies of OTHER, more favorable reviews in their kitchen. They had a desire to find new opportunities, not prove that their methods were already they best.

For writers, for really any professional, how would you live up to this challenge? Are you as open to change? Are you motivated by a constant desire to explore, to improve? Or does it seem merely like an obligation? Something that perhaps you WOULD do, if only you had the time and resources. If only you weren’t so swamped running around on that hamster wheel trying to keep everything moving. It would have been so easy to see a vague reference to Miles Davis in a review of your work, and just disregard it saying “Whatever… I have more important things to focus on.”

• Desire: “A longing or craving, as for something that brings satisfaction or enjoyment.”
• Obligation: “Something by which a person is bound or obliged to do certain things, and which arises out of a sense of duty or results from custom, law, etc.”

I have spoken with many authors who feel that connecting with their readers is an unwanted obligation. They want to just write, alone, in solitude, and not have to worry about finding an audience. Don’t get me wrong – they WANT an audience – they just want someone else to develop it, and someone else to really talk with those people.

But I love seeing examples of authors who value the way that digital media has more deeply connected them to their readers. People such as:

• Neil Gaiman
• Susan Orlean

Neil and Susan find opportunity and joy where others find drudgery and misery. Just look at their Twitter feeds, filled not just with status updates and ReTweets, but tons of @replies where they are having conversations with their audience. Not out of obligation, but out of desire.

These two authors are already “successful,” they don’t need to prove that they can develop followers on Twitter. They are both obviously very busy in their careers and family. And yet, they connect with their readers online via social media.

You can imagine if they did so out of a sense of obligation, they would half-ass it. They would do the minimum required number of Tweets per day, that would all contain the standard press release information their publicist prepared for them. They would be cardboard cutouts of themselves.

What is the distinction between someone who knows how to develop an audience vs someone who fails? A sense of unwanted obligation vs a feeling of desire to do so.

With unwanted obligation, you need to be convinced at every step of the process that this is worthwhile. You look for objections. You count the minutes that the activity takes. You search for signs and proof that it isn’t working, just as you suspected all along. Obligation means you will find challenges and roadblocks where others find opportunity and serendipity.

What is most interesting to me about all of this is that authors such as Neil and Susan, and restaurants such as 11 Madison Park clearly have a lot of obligations. Things they MUST do even when they find it boring. Even when they would prefer not to. But you never see that on the surface. They use their desire to supersede the unwanted obligations.

This is not about bestseller lists, book sales, digital downloads or the size of an advance. This is about caring and about connection. That your legacy is measured in the impact you have on people’s lives on a daily basis. That your work and your passion is a bright spot in their day. That your legacy is built in the thousands of interactions, in the tiniest of moments.

Thanks!
-Dan