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CLIMBING TO THE TOP
ISN'T EASY |
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I came home the other evening and announced to my wife for the 47th time
that we were going to be rich. Never mind that 46 of which didn't work out
so well.
"What is it this time?" she unenthusiastically asked.
"Another biotech flyer?"
"Nope. This one is a sure thing. I've written a Best Seller and the
royalties should start pouring in any day now."
I was referring, of course, to my latest book, "The Pandemic and
Other Irritants," which was published just last week and is now
available on Amazon.com. It's a collection of my columns from 2020 through
2024.
It's my third collection of columns book. The first, "Kids, Dogs and
Other Pests," was not a Best Seller. Nor was my second book, and
maybe the title, "Some Books are Not Meant to be Sold" was a
hint of things to come.
I've never been particularly interested in selling my books. They're
primarily for friends and family, where I can come by their houses and
check on the placement in their bookshelves. Front and center always gives
me pleasure.
But this time I decided to go all out. My publisher has offered to market
"The Pandemic and Other Irritants" to the masses, and I gave him
my blessing.
"You won't be seeing me much in the next few months," I told my
wife. "The book tour will take me from one city to the next. I'll be
a little nervous doing the morning talk shows, but I'll tough it
out."
She was unimpressed. "Why don't you just do a 'reading' for the
grandchildren, like you did with your last book. No travel needed."
"Where's your ambition?" I cried. "You didn't seem to mind
when I got my last royalty check from Amazon. As I recall, you cashed it
immediately!"
"It was for one dollar and fifty-four cents! You've got a long way to
go to have a Best Seller that will make us rich."
She wasn't kidding. That was the actual amount. But I let her know that
was without the global marketing campaign my publisher was about to embark
on for this latest book, and I told her so.
"So how much did you pay them for this marketing campaign?" she
asked.
Damn. As usual, she saw right through me. When you pay to self-publish a
book, it's not likely they'll promote it. Unless you pay extra, which I
did this time.
"Never mind. Just know it's money well spent. We'll be laughing at
the memory of that $1.54 check when the big bucks roll in."
The odds weren't exactly with me. Hard to believe, but there are about 2.7
million self-published books printed each year, very few of which make the
Best Seller list. Well, okay, maybe none, but there's always hope.
Most of them probably don't have a stellar marketing team, though, like I
do. They told me they would start with a Facebook and Instagram page and
increase my visibility on the Amazon search engine. I'm just assuming the
talk show invitations will follow shortly.
My wife, of course, was not convinced. So I pulled out my phone and went
to Amazon.com and searched "Nick Hoppe books." All three books
popped up, ready to be bought by unsuspecting readers.
She still wasn't convinced. I clicked on "The Pandemic and Other
Irritants" and scrolled down to show her that I was #1,467,323 on the
Best Seller list.
"That's good?" she innocently asked.
"Are you kidding? When I looked last week when it was first posted I
was #2,532,767. I jumped over a million spots in just one week! Sales must
be soaring!"
Still unimpressed. "I saw you bought a copy. It was delivered
yesterday. That must have helped."
It was clear she had doubts that "The Pandemic and Other
Irritants" would climb into Amazon's Top 100 or better yet, make the
New York Times Best Seller list. And deep down, I sensed she might be
right.
I thought about calling my marketing team and paying a little extra for
the next level of promoting the book but decided against it. A Facebook
and Instagram page was plenty.
Instead, I decided to embrace my father's great line. He was a very
successful newspaper columnist but a very unsuccessful novelist. His books
were about as successful as mine.
"Some people collect rare books," he would say after another
dismal report of sales. "I write them." |
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