The Snap-On Man vs. Shameless Spam

Or: Why Advertising Trumps Spam

A few years ago, in a two-day Fencing Extravaganza, we put up a new fence around several acres of pasture. During construction, we had a little glitch. The main hydraulic hose blew in the Al-the-Fencing-Guy's skid loader (which he used to do everything from pound 8 inch posts directly into our concrete-like clay without pre-drilling holes to stretching the high-tension wire).

When I say the hose blew, I don't mean that it sprung a little leak. No -- it exploded in a frayed mass of steel reinforcements and sprayed hydraulic fluid everywhere.

Since Al's an Amish man, he doesn't drive -- so I took him for a nice tour of Coloma, Watervliet, and Hartford in search of a replacement 1 3/8" hydraulic hose with appropriate couplings. We found a place to get one made.

Then we went looking for a comparable-sized offset wrench to make installing the hose go faster and easier. It was a Wednesday, and we were told that Wednesday was the day for the Snap-On man to be in the area, but no one was sure where to find him.

As we were stopped at the light in Watervliet, what should we see but the Snap-On truck!

The truck had a phone number boldy emblazoned on it, so I followed it while Al called the number on his cell phone. He got hold of the driver (!) and explained what we needed. The guy very kindly pulled over and let us see if he had what we wanted. Presto: the guy made an easy sale just for driving his truck through an intersection -- and answering his phone.

Just the other day I was talking to a friend who is an absolutely TOP photographer. She's amazing. She has made quite a name for herself in our little area, but she could be so much bigger. Her eye for detail, and her ability to photograph people with genuine, beautiful, flattering expressions really set her apart. She would like more work. Yet she's reticent to advertise.

She is not alone.

So often, writers and others in creative fields are afraid to advertise. We don't want to "blow our own horn" or seem pushy or brash. But what we fail to take into consideration is that we offer a very real service that many people cannot (or don't want to) do for themselves.

In a sense, we owe it to our potential clientele to tell them our services are available, and to give them a way to contact us. Just like the Snap-On man.

Ah, but there's a catch...

See, contrary to popular opinion, advertising doesn't involve letting people know what you do or what you've done.

(I realize this statement flies directly in the face of many writers -- and plenty of publishers -- on Twitter and Facebook who are forever shilling about *their* books.

My feeds are craptastically clogged with writers posting links to their latest reviews, or their books' trailers, or random quotes from their books. Occasional self-promo is fine. It's even encouraged. However, if the only topic that ever shows up in your feed is YOUR BOOK, you're committing an unforgivable, egregious social boo-boo. This is not advertising. This is visual vomit. This is shameless self-promoting spam.)

Advertising, done correctly, is not telling others about yourself or your product. Rather, it tells people what you and your product can do for them.

Effective advertising engages the audience on some level.

It provides a service.

It gives people fodder for conversation, or makes them laugh, or solves a problem they're having (whether they know it or not).

Sometimes it even causes people to call you up in desperation and chase you down so they can buy what you're selling!

A few questions to ponder:
What advertising have you seen that you found most effective? 
How do you respond to incessant social media spam?
How does your advertising encourage people to connect with your product?

"I Love Your Story Anyway!" -- Tales From the Unintended Audience

"I know I may not be the intended audience... and I love your story anyway!"

This tweet from accomplished improv musician Stan Stewart (@muz4now), a faithful reader of "Dear Alderone," got me thinking. Since September, I've been serializing "Dear Alderone" online. It's a middle-grade novel, which means that its target audience is tweens. It features two 14-year old female protagonists bonded by blood, separated by several decades,  connected by crisis.

I wrote a story I wanted to tell: a story that I would have liked reading when I was 14. But you know what? I'm not picky at all about who reads or -- perhaps more importantly -- who likes it.

The wonderful thing about words on a page (or screen) is that they are equal-opportunity communicators, readily conveying their information to anyone willing to decipher them.

Skippyjon stays!

I know what it's like to devour a book, getting caught up in the story, all the while cognizant of the fact that the author did not have me in mind while writing. I like Eoin Colfer's Artemis Fowl series, though I have nothing in common with an uber-rich, genius boy intent on world domination. And I flat-out love Judy Schachner's Skippyjon Jones books -- so much so that I  was crushed when my cat-crazy 10 year old daughter announced that I could give them away because she was "too old" for them.

"Noooooo!" I wanted to yell as the books came off of my daughter's bookshelf--

...to be instantly rehomed in mine. Skippyjon stays.

Here's a little-known writer's secret:
Anyone who loves what I write is my intended audience.

Here's another one:
Nothing makes a writer's day like hearing from someone who appreciates a good story.

If you are a rabid reader of an author's work, it doesn't matter whether or not you are in the publisher's target market. Want to really make a writer's day? Some simple ways to spread the love:

*  Tweet 'em up. Whether or not the writer is on Twitter, compose a tweet personally recommending your favorite read to your followers. For the cherry on top, add the #amreading hashtag. 

*  Blog About It. If you have a blog, dedicate a post to a book, series, or writer you like. Google loves that kind of stuff almost as much as authors do.

*  Keep the Comments Coming. If the writer has a blog, drop a short comment stating how much you enjoyed a particular book / story / article. It's not that we're pathetic or emotionally needy. (Ok: Some of us are.) It's just that most writers get more than enough negative feedback. For some reason, the people who *don't* like what we do have no problem telling us. I mean: name one other business that names the vast majority of its missives "rejections." You have no idea what a supportive comment praising one's work can do to boost the creative muse.

*  Read. Review. Repeat. Reviews -- especially good reviews -- are like reserves of gold in a wildly fluctuating economy. If you really want to keep your favorite writers producing more stuff for you to read (instead of, say, trading in their mad typing skills for a hairnet and practicing their delivery of the catch phrase "would you like fries with that?") write a well-thought out, reasoned review and post it in appropriate online, visible places. Amazon is one such place, to be sure, but don't neglect other online booksellers who cater to people who might not want to enrich the all-powerful 'Zon.

*  Share and Enjoy. Like a book? Talk it up. Then lend it to a friend, so that person can help you spread the word. In fact, you could start a kickass trend by purchasing a physical copy of your favorite paperback, inscribing something like "I liked this book so much I wanted to share it with the world. Read it. Enjoy it. Then, when you're done, leave it in a public place for someone else to discover!" and leaving it behind in a coffeeshop, or a bus stop, or a train station, or a doctor's office, or... You get the picture. 

So here's to all the dedicated readers out there. It doesn't matter whether or not you are in the segment of the population to whom a book is marketed. It's not about the marketing; it's about the reading!  

Austin Film Festival -- Day 4

or, The Producers Pontificate

I sat in on several panels today made up of People Who Make Movies (as opposed to those of us who merely write screenplays...). These included producers Richard Bever, Curtis Burch, Steven Puri, Victor Moyers, and attorney / producer Sally Helppie.

Some quotes from the panels that you can take to the bank:

"What gets producers excited is something that can get made. Market your story in the right way so I can see the dollar signs. Make it easy for us to pitch."

"You can probably get most films made, given enough time and enough willpower."

"I get excited when I read scripts that the writer loved writing. I look for a pure quality of craft and originality of idea or character."

"I started [my production company] with a Utopian vision. I thought, 'I'm going to create this writer's dream...' Reality is very, very different."

"You must be aware whether or not the budget fits the genre."

"Comic books are the new 'spec script.' You can talk about 'art' all you want, but this is absolutely true."

"Not all scripts lend themselves to a single-sentence logline. If that is the case, develop a log or pitch that can provide a way into your story that isn't necessarily linear."

"I prefer a two sentence pitch. The first sets up the character and the conflict. The second clarifies the story's tone."

"A real writer doesn't think about the marketing. When a writer begins talking about marketing, that's a tip off that the writer probably isn't any good."

"The most important thing to figure out is how to break through the noise."

"Identify the various support / niche markets that could be built into your distribution plan."

(Hmmm... I'll leave it to brighter minds than mine to figure out how to fit those last three comments into a cohesive world-view.)

A final piece of advice to independent filmmakers from the Money People:

"Don't waste time or money shooting a trailer to show potential investors. Instead, invest the time and the money to shoot a key, pivotal scene that shows the kind of production values they can expect if they fund the entire project. Show them that."

As you can see, it was a very mercenary day. Which is kind of a letdown after hearing so much about the artistic process for the past few days. The harsh reality, however, is that making movies costs money. It behooves those of us who want to see our words come to life on the screen to listen to those who know how to make that happen...

Heading home bright and early tomorrow (a 6:00 CST wake-up call -- bleah). Though the Austin Film Festival will be over for me, I still have a few more little tidbits to share.

Tune in for tomorrow's installment: Contemplating Karma.