There are more books than you could read in a hundred years, even if that’s all you ever did. In a way, books are a commodity.
The firehose-stream of new books, both independent and traditionally published, makes individual books even harder to distinguish. Your only hope of being found is to focus relentlessly on the 1% which makes your book unique.
I’m not suggesting that you find a way to convince people that your book is unlike anything which has ever come before. If you’ve written about coaching or accounting or networking or marketing, your book will share concepts and content with oodles of existing books on the topic.
Marketing your book is going to involve asking people for things. Whether it’s cover blurbs, a foreword, testimonials, or reviews, it’s far more practical to ask than to wait for volunteers.
How you ask makes a world of difference. My goal in this article is to help you do your homework so you have the best chance of getting a meaningful response. Note I didn’t say a positive response; ‘yes’ isn’t always the right answer, much as we’d like it to be. You can’t be too timid to even ask, but it doesn’t work to be so confident you come off as a jerk.
Our last post was about making sure your newsletter is relevant, and before that, the effect of ensuring it’s anticipated. The final post in this short series is about how being personal trumps them both.
When a stranger interrupts, it’s offensive, annoying.
When a close friend interrupts, it’s probably just conversation. We do it all the time. Sure, in some settings we’re careful to be more formal, to listen politely until the other person is done speaking, to use active listening and all those cool techniques for really connecting.
But if you and I are chatting about music and you start raving about Eric Clapton and I butt in with “Clapton has gotten boring; have you heard Steve Winwood play guitar lately?” that’s just conversation — friends talk over each other and interrupt and generally treat conversation like a rugby scrum.