I truly enjoy writing. It’s something I am able to do every day, which in and of itself is a blessing. From the first blank page to the last page, signifying the end of the book, I am ecstatic. Even the rewrites and the edits offer a form of pleasure though I tend to gripe a bit about having to do them.
The publishing process with its: synopsis, back matter, hooks, describe your book in less than thirty words, biographies, comparisons, media press releases and an entire rash of things to do, I find masochistically enjoyable.
After that, comes the scourge of writing, the plague of pages, the bane of books, the dastardly author affliction, the single word that brings fear into the hearts of mere mortal men, but the most necessary word if there ever was one.
That word: Marketing!!!
Imagine, if you will, (I know I’ve asked this frequently during the course of this blog, so just do it) floating in the middle of a serene lake. With your cane pole, you have managed to snatch an abundance of tadpole sized fish from the water. Aggravated there will be no fish dinner tonight, you begin to throw a tantrum to rival all tantrums. The motion of the canoe begins to send out signals that other aquatic creatures residing in the lake would interpret as one of their brethren in trouble. Then, what of all wonders would appear to assist but a twelve-foot bull-shark vaulting from the water to cleanly remove your head. This action leaves the remainder of your carcass still paddling with timed squirts of blood shooting in consistent arcs from the ravaged neck.
Such is the arduous task of…marketing.
One beautiful fall day, you hire three laborers to rake and blow the leaves that litter your lawn. The same day, you decide to wash and wax all three of your vehicles. You not only spit shine and protect the outside of your automobiles, but carry forth and do a professional detailing job on the inside. With very little light left in the day, you finish cleaning your gutters as the sun sets. Totally worn out from the day’s events, you eat dinner and turn in early. You arise, dress, and bounce outside to take a quick look at your manicured lawn and sizzling finish on your vehicles. You open the door and something strange smacks you in the face. The lawn is littered with leaves and debris, two foot deep in some places. Three huge oak trees have been uprooted and strategically placed, one on top of each vehicle. The gutters have been ripped from the house along with most of the house being ripped from the house. As you survey the damage, you find your bedroom and the hallway to the front door are all that’s left from the structure.
Needless to say, your work, curtesy of hurricane Claude the day before, went for naught. Such is the arduous task of marketing.
Having just published a novel, I am now encased in the arduous task of marketing. It’s kinda like a wedding, you know, “better or for worse,” and the real grabber, “sickness and in health,” and the one that will truly set you free from marketing, “till death do us part.”