So…. I’ve been busy writing. That’s what I’m supposed to be doing if I want to get anywhere with it, right? But I’ve mostly ignored the art of self-promotion. These days it’s less like art, and more like Kung-Fu, rapid-attack, multi-level-platform promotion.
I know I’m supposed to do it.
I do it when I win something or come close to winning something. But I’ve heard from a few different locations (books/internet/actual living people) that if I’d like to be picked up by a publisher, I should already have 10,000 followers on
I know a few people, but 10,000 is a bit beyond me, unless I pull some sort of publicity stunt that involves pulling my pants down in the local Tim Horton’s or getting arrested for protesting a pipeline (both of which are entirely feasible).
There are several ways self-promotion breaks my heart a little, mostly because it feels so closely tied with capitalism. I have to make myself a product, package my product accordingly, and sell it like a mofo? So… what’s my package?
I won’t show you my actual package, this isn’t that kind of website. But I am having a hard time boiling down the essence of my package. I write short stories, fiction, non-fiction, poetry, I’m dabbling in graphic novels and film, and I also metalsmith. You know, melt down metal and make shiny things for others, usually for money but sometimes for people to kill werewolves with (silver handmade bullets).
I made that last part up. I haven’t been commissioned to do that, yet.
And I know what it sounds like. I sound like a F@#*ing Flake. Let’s just say I have a wholelotta love for the creative word, and I’m exploring its possibilities before I settle down. Right now, I’m having a slutty phase with words. Don’t judge, it’s all consensual. But.
I’m a (mostly) serious person who likes to talk about meaningful things, except, as many of the actual (not 10,000) people who know me, I am a fairly silly person: the first to crack a joke or make a rude noise in polite company and pretend it’s someone else.
This makes it hard, at times, to be professional.
Looking back on my website, there are quite a few f-bombs to accidentally tread upon. Is that my schtick? Middle-aged-Exploding-F-Bomb-Frequently-Sunburnt-Ridiculous-Storyteller? It does have a nice ring to it, but it’s not a package. I think of those author pictures on the back of books, mostly the white, older men ones where they are raising one hairy eyebrow and looking into the distance of far-away Intelligencia-Land. As that what you do? My twitter account is a picture of me with a fake
How about all the ways we see people selling themselves, even when they aren’t doing it for a business? That gets old. They’re still doing it for self-promotion of some sort. I mean, I’m glad you showed me your running route, so I could see just how far you can run via a satellite tracker, but I’d far rather you run a giant penis/balls combo and post that, because then I’d get something out of it too, you know? Some of us are stuck in fourth grade in our minds, a large part of the time. Help us out here. But it might hurt their… brand. How can one be authentic and still put our best foot forward?
I still remember the look on the videographer’s face at our high school send-off, as she asked us what we planned to do with our lives. The person ahead of me said she was going to start her own business. The guy in front of her said he was going to study to become a doctor.
Good ones, very thought out.
I recited Neil from The Young Ones(If you haven’t seen it, it’s British T.V. show about an odd assortment of roommates in a flat)- specifically, his rant about corrupt governments and totalitarian vegetables and how I was having none of it. I even parted my hair down the middle and used his hippie voice. I thought this was an excellent answer (because I was 18 and how the shit was I supposed to know what I’d be doing later) but her look said otherwise.
I’m not very sure I’ve ever been good at this.
I’m self-deprecating and, like many writers, filled with the knowledge that what I write will never actually be what I’m trying to say, and must learn to live with the falling-short of it all. But.
Back to self-promotion.
My promotional skills are like those “nailed it” pictures, where the mini sourdough and ham pasties actually end up looking like mangled vaginas. I’m not sure how to do this, people, except to be just be who I am, and try to be good at that. Because I don’t want to only wear one shade of lipstick, pretend to be a vision of perfection, or pick one side of myself and present it on a platter as my package.
I know I should. People hire others to do it. Hell, I DO IT every time I write ad copy for someone else, I come up with their “story”, their thing. So why is so hard when I look inwards?
I’m struggling here. “Views From the Obtuse Angle” is my tongue in cheek way of saying, I can be obtuse, a bit thick, I don’t always get it, but here’s my angle on the world (and I’m also a big fan of triangles).
But surely this is not enough to build a winning platform? Maybe I just go with
I LIKE TRIANGLES and see what happens? No?
I’m working on it, albeit slowly, and hopefully you will find my package out there soon. Preferably not in the day-old meat section, half price.