For the last two days I’ve put on my nerd hat and built the “platform” for my “author identity”; a website, a proper mailing list, my own web domain name based on my pen name, and so forth. It took longer than I expected, but then I’ve been avoiding IT and web-based work for, well, a while now, so I stumbled a bit over the new-fangled acronyms. (SPF means “Sender Policy Framework”, not “Sun Protection Factor”. Don’t ask about DKIM.) I stumbled a lot, actually, with appropriate curse words frying the air. But really, connecting up web and email domains and servers (in its own way) reminds me of the not-quite-dead-yet IBM OS 370 JCL, which was also the source of much cursing.
Yeah, I go back that far.
So, my website is mostly built; my email list is waiting for subscribers. Yes, my twelve-cylinder gleaming Engine of Commerce(TM) is growling at idle and ready to go. What’s not ready, and is giving me fits, is my marketing copy.
I am not deluded that a novella without (at present) a sequel is going to do much of anything in terms of actual sales. According to Platt and Truant in Write, Publish, Repeat, I need to just get my work out there, and keep producing more. Intellectually, I agree.
Emotionally, it’s hard to leave my literary baby on Amazon’s doorstep and abandon it.
Therefore, I’m wrapping it up in more blankets, writing a note which keeps getting longer, adding formula and diapers to the basket…
I think I’m just going to have to channel my long-departed salesman dad. What would DAD say to help a reader decide to sign up for the mailing list? What would he think the copy on my website should be? Then just copy-and-paste it into the appropriate blank spots in the Mailchimp forms and let it go.
Let it go.
Far easier said than done.