The flowers in that image are by my DIL’s house on Galveston Island. She told me what they are, but of course I’ve forgotten. They have nothing to do with the topic of this blog post, just something pretty to bring a smile, and maybe you already know their name.
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So, I was scrolling through my e-mail after coming home from my day of quilting yesterday and a newsletter from a well-known author was in my inbox. The subject line read: My HIGHLY ENTERTAINING novel coming… (date)
For as long as I can recall, the use of capitalization in social media exchanges has been considered equivalent to shouting, so the advice I’d been given about promotions was not to ever use it. Basically, “Don’t shout at prospective readers.”
Good advice, and up until yesterday, I’d never encountered an author who disregarded that advice. So surely this would be a joke. Right?”
In the first couple of paragraphs of the body of the email the author wrote: “Who am I to think I know better than you do what book you want to read? If you want to read that thing you bought last week, go right ahead and rot your brain with its insipid storytelling. Hats are another matter. Almost everyone has terrible taste in hats and could use my advice. When it comes to books, however, you have every right to read whatever trash or tedious fluff you wish. The fact that I have a WONDERFUL and HIGHLY ENTERTAINING novel coming…”
Then a little bit further on they wrote: “You can preorder the book as you see fit and depending on how smart you are. There’s no shame in buying and reading some other novel than (title) no shame at all, only the tragedy of missing out on the higher income and happier personal relationships and greater sense of belonging in society that (author’s name) readers experience.”
This was obviously an attempt at a spoof on the hard-sell of marketing, but for me it didn’t rise to the level of effective satire. Some of the wordage hit me as rather insulting to me and to other authors. As if any other book is horrible and a reader would be stupid to even consider reading anything other than this author’s book.
I wonder how many other people had my reaction.
I almost didn’t open the newsletter because of the over-the-top bragging tone of the subject line, but I was curious. Was the author going to immediately poke fun back at themselves and make it clear that this was a spoof? Was there going to be an excerpt of said, WONDERFUL book, for us to sample and determine for ourselves how entertaining the story would be?
Nope. Just more stumbling attempts to make the missive one big joke that fell quite a bit short. Which is really pretty sad considering the fact that this is a very successful author who sells enough books worldwide that this approach isn’t even necessary. A simple reminder with the pre-order link – and maybe that excerpt for people like me who like to sample a book before purchasing – would most likely been enough prompting that fans would need.
In contrast, I regularly receive e-mail updates from another best-selling author who shares links for new books, information about upcoming events, and a couple of personal tidbits that helps readers stay connected to the person behind the books and the words and the dollars earned from sales.
I felt no connection to that first author and will probably never buy another one of their books.
Readers, what do you think? How would you respond to a marketing approach like that first one I mentioned? Would you be put off by the “shouting” in the subject line, or are you okay with using all caps for emphasis? Was it appropriate in that subject line? Please share your thoughts in the comments. I’d really like to know if I should modify my whole approach to selling.
Well, actually, I don’t think I’d start shouting at prospective buyers, but I am curious as to whether you as a reader are put off by the hard-sell.
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Now, for a lighthearted way to end the week here’s a bit of humor from our good friend, Slim Randles. I really relate to this one as I think I found almost everything he mentions in the brush I used on my horse, Banjo, especially when attacking a thick winter coat.
There are those who believe that old sayings are wise because someone now dead said them, or wrote them, or carved them into the cave walls a long time ago.
But it’s our journalistic duty to laugh at ones that are just ridiculous.
Case in point “There’s something about the outside of a horse that’s good for the inside of a man.”
Have you ever brushed the outside of a horse? I don’t mean just getting the Cretaceous crust off him with a curry comb. I mean getting a soft brush in there all the way to bedrock (or his skin) whichever comes first.
Depending on where you live, you will find hidden in that soft brush such things as yellow snow, goatheads, trail dust, horse slobber from one of his corral mates that settled in and dried, and dead grass. If you’re fortunate enough to share your world with bugs, you might come across a cockroach corpse or two.
Protein!
With the benefit of hindsight, which occurs in mule packers with great experience, such as myself, I figured out we weren’t supposed to eat horse brushings, but absorb them into our souls, so we can fool others into thinking we know a lot.
One question here: How smart does a horseman have to be to mount up on top of some mangy volcano who’s dedicated to the random scattering of cowboy parts on at least 17 acres?
Of rocks.
But the final test of being a real cowboy is then to sit up in that convenient pile of cactus and horse manure and grin and say, “I told you he was spirited!”
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Brought to you by old bunkhouse cowboys like Windy Wilson, who always have something to say to enrich our lives. Check out his cooking directions.
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