No Refreshments will be Served: One Artist's Journey to the Discovery of his best Marketing Asset, his Work
Art Edwards
Pear Noir!
Summer 2012
“Thirteen paid to get in,” the bouncer said, “none to see you.”
It was October of 2008, and my trio Art Edwards and his Defunct Band had just finished playing Reggie's, an off-the-main-drag club in Chicago that so desperately needed acts they were willing to hire us. My wife and I had moved to Chicago from Oregon ten months earlier. It was a choice made mainly for her work, but a consolation prize for me was getting to promote my self-published novel/CD combo in a great city like Chicago, where I had roots and where my former band, the Refreshments, had flourished in the nineties. I thought I could parlay all this into a nice following, playing gigs, selling my wares, creating if not a living a kind of post-Refreshments life for myself. It'd been ten years since the band had broken up, and I had yet to establish much of anything. Unless I wanted to wind up in a desk job and the requisite pit of despair that came with it, I had to hustle.
I'd been promoting my novels and music by myself for five years, and I promoted each product and event the same way. I used MySpace and Facebook, hitting up friends, and I sent press releases to various news outlets and blogs. Each press release's subject line read “Former Refreshments Bass Player” (Even now as I type “Former,” my Word program wants to insert “Refreshments” after it) and went on to say things like “Plays Reggie's on October 23rd,” or “Will read from his debut novel at Changing Hands on September 19th,” or “Will Release his second novel Ghost Notes on March 4th.” This method had worked well enough for me. It allowed me to leverage the Refreshments and some of our accomplishments--radio hit, TV show theme song, late night talk show appearance--and it no doubt helped open some doors that would've been closed otherwise.
At first I was a hesitant to use my past in this way. I'd been living a very non-Refreshments life for years by then, but in a marketing sense I saw the band as my biggest asset. If there were a better way to promote my rock novels and solo music, I didn't know what it was.
But by 2008 I'd grown tired of using the Refreshments as my trump card. I was a novelist, had been for over a decade. That I'd once been in a mildly-famous rock band had little to do with whether my novels were any good. Moreover, I felt like my Refreshments hook had run its course. I'd gotten to everyone I could with it, and there were many others out there with whom the band carried no weight. One look at my book sales revealed that relying solely on Refreshments fans wouldn't get me far. I had to try something new.
Thirteen paid to get in, none to see you. Now was as good a time as any.
After my wife and I moved back to Oregon in 2009, I was ready to launch my No Refreshments plan. I booked a solo acoustic gig at a local coffee shop, and as always I sent out a press release to promote the show. The release emphasized my novels, my solo CD. Not a word about the Refreshments. I also eliminated any mention of the band from my website and social networking pages. Unless someone bothered to Google me, I was just an unknown self-published author/musician trying to hype his wares.
Going into the world without my biggest crutch was scary, but also liberating. I was separating myself from my past in a way that felt healthy. Sure, people online still wanted to chat about the band, but to my mind I was a writer, a solo musician. I dealt with Refreshments stuff as it came up, but I didn't bring it up.
As you might expect, my solo acoustic gig at the coffee shop didn't violate any fire codes. Three people attended, one a friend of a friend, the others colleagues of my wife. Still, this didn't prevent me from booking another show a few months later, promoting it in the same way. This time one person showed up, a friend who'd driven five hours from Ashland to hear me play. At this show--my final musical show--I played every original I had, twenty in all, starting with two I wrote for the Refreshments and ending with a few I'd written since moving to Portland. That felt like a good place to end it, and that's where my solo acoustic career sits to this day.
As sad as this sounds, I wasn't crestfallen. I love performing music, but I'd long ago transferred any career hopes from music to writing. I was a writer by practice, by temperament. Besides, I could name a dozen acquaintances who were better than me at the solo acoustic thing, and if you can name that many, that means there are about a thousand times more out there you've never heard of.
Still, I resolved to stick with my No Refreshments policy. In the fall of 2009, I completed an audiobook of my second novel Ghost Notes, and I announced it via press release to bloggers, reviewers and other outlets. At the time, no self-published authors were creating audiobooks, and I thought having one would set me apart. I even incorporated music into the audiobook, trying to bridge the divide between my music and writing lives.
This plan didn't work. Only one reviewer, a literary blog that had its own audiobooks section, requested a review copy of Ghost Notes the audiobook, and I've sold very few copies to date. Another interesting venture that didn't quite pan out.
Still, the release cycle didn't come without its surprises, and some validation. Three blogs that reviewed self-published work, each to whom I'd submitted “Former Refreshments Bass Player”-type press releases in the past and been ignored, requested paper versions of Ghost Notes. I'd assumed any critical attention paid to Ghost Notes the book-book was over. Now three places wanted to review it.
Why the sudden interest? I can't claim to know for sure, but how can I overlook the absence of a certain band's name from my press release? For these reviewers, the Refreshments had quite possibly been an impediment, as opposed to the open door I'd hoped it would be.
Maybe there's a reverse prejudice going on here. If I were a blogger reviewing self-published books, what would I do with a request to review a new novel by Jim Carey, or Jay Z, or Ellen Degeneres? Part of the fun of reviewing for such a blog would be discovering new talent. Sorry, but Jim Carey's already discovered.
I respect any review blog that wants to skip a project with “celebrity overtones,” and I was very glad all of these places now wanted to review Ghost Notes. I was even more glad when each review came back glowing. PODBRAM named Ghost Notes the best work of contemporary fiction for 2009. Jane Smith at The Self-Publishing Review gave Ghost Notes her first ever highly recommended rating. Mark McGinty at The Boogle seemed the most moved, writing, "Each word [of Ghost Notes] fits almost perfectly into place...There is real feeling here, as if this book has some cosmic purpose."
Cosmic purpose. The phrase is fitting. When promoting my work, what was I ultimately shooting for? Was I an opportunist trying to spin my past into a few books sales, or was I genuinely hoping to touch readers with my work? The latter, but how could I expect the people reading my press releases to tell the difference?
In our culture of attention hoarding, it doesn't hurt to take a look at one's cosmic purpose every once in a while, even if it means making decisions that might not get you noticed. If your project is going to be ignored, at least make sure it's ignored for the right reasons.
Art Edwards
Pear Noir!
Summer 2012
“Thirteen paid to get in,” the bouncer said, “none to see you.”
It was October of 2008, and my trio Art Edwards and his Defunct Band had just finished playing Reggie's, an off-the-main-drag club in Chicago that so desperately needed acts they were willing to hire us. My wife and I had moved to Chicago from Oregon ten months earlier. It was a choice made mainly for her work, but a consolation prize for me was getting to promote my self-published novel/CD combo in a great city like Chicago, where I had roots and where my former band, the Refreshments, had flourished in the nineties. I thought I could parlay all this into a nice following, playing gigs, selling my wares, creating if not a living a kind of post-Refreshments life for myself. It'd been ten years since the band had broken up, and I had yet to establish much of anything. Unless I wanted to wind up in a desk job and the requisite pit of despair that came with it, I had to hustle.
I'd been promoting my novels and music by myself for five years, and I promoted each product and event the same way. I used MySpace and Facebook, hitting up friends, and I sent press releases to various news outlets and blogs. Each press release's subject line read “Former Refreshments Bass Player” (Even now as I type “Former,” my Word program wants to insert “Refreshments” after it) and went on to say things like “Plays Reggie's on October 23rd,” or “Will read from his debut novel at Changing Hands on September 19th,” or “Will Release his second novel Ghost Notes on March 4th.” This method had worked well enough for me. It allowed me to leverage the Refreshments and some of our accomplishments--radio hit, TV show theme song, late night talk show appearance--and it no doubt helped open some doors that would've been closed otherwise.
At first I was a hesitant to use my past in this way. I'd been living a very non-Refreshments life for years by then, but in a marketing sense I saw the band as my biggest asset. If there were a better way to promote my rock novels and solo music, I didn't know what it was.
But by 2008 I'd grown tired of using the Refreshments as my trump card. I was a novelist, had been for over a decade. That I'd once been in a mildly-famous rock band had little to do with whether my novels were any good. Moreover, I felt like my Refreshments hook had run its course. I'd gotten to everyone I could with it, and there were many others out there with whom the band carried no weight. One look at my book sales revealed that relying solely on Refreshments fans wouldn't get me far. I had to try something new.
Thirteen paid to get in, none to see you. Now was as good a time as any.
After my wife and I moved back to Oregon in 2009, I was ready to launch my No Refreshments plan. I booked a solo acoustic gig at a local coffee shop, and as always I sent out a press release to promote the show. The release emphasized my novels, my solo CD. Not a word about the Refreshments. I also eliminated any mention of the band from my website and social networking pages. Unless someone bothered to Google me, I was just an unknown self-published author/musician trying to hype his wares.
Going into the world without my biggest crutch was scary, but also liberating. I was separating myself from my past in a way that felt healthy. Sure, people online still wanted to chat about the band, but to my mind I was a writer, a solo musician. I dealt with Refreshments stuff as it came up, but I didn't bring it up.
As you might expect, my solo acoustic gig at the coffee shop didn't violate any fire codes. Three people attended, one a friend of a friend, the others colleagues of my wife. Still, this didn't prevent me from booking another show a few months later, promoting it in the same way. This time one person showed up, a friend who'd driven five hours from Ashland to hear me play. At this show--my final musical show--I played every original I had, twenty in all, starting with two I wrote for the Refreshments and ending with a few I'd written since moving to Portland. That felt like a good place to end it, and that's where my solo acoustic career sits to this day.
As sad as this sounds, I wasn't crestfallen. I love performing music, but I'd long ago transferred any career hopes from music to writing. I was a writer by practice, by temperament. Besides, I could name a dozen acquaintances who were better than me at the solo acoustic thing, and if you can name that many, that means there are about a thousand times more out there you've never heard of.
Still, I resolved to stick with my No Refreshments policy. In the fall of 2009, I completed an audiobook of my second novel Ghost Notes, and I announced it via press release to bloggers, reviewers and other outlets. At the time, no self-published authors were creating audiobooks, and I thought having one would set me apart. I even incorporated music into the audiobook, trying to bridge the divide between my music and writing lives.
This plan didn't work. Only one reviewer, a literary blog that had its own audiobooks section, requested a review copy of Ghost Notes the audiobook, and I've sold very few copies to date. Another interesting venture that didn't quite pan out.
Still, the release cycle didn't come without its surprises, and some validation. Three blogs that reviewed self-published work, each to whom I'd submitted “Former Refreshments Bass Player”-type press releases in the past and been ignored, requested paper versions of Ghost Notes. I'd assumed any critical attention paid to Ghost Notes the book-book was over. Now three places wanted to review it.
Why the sudden interest? I can't claim to know for sure, but how can I overlook the absence of a certain band's name from my press release? For these reviewers, the Refreshments had quite possibly been an impediment, as opposed to the open door I'd hoped it would be.
Maybe there's a reverse prejudice going on here. If I were a blogger reviewing self-published books, what would I do with a request to review a new novel by Jim Carey, or Jay Z, or Ellen Degeneres? Part of the fun of reviewing for such a blog would be discovering new talent. Sorry, but Jim Carey's already discovered.
I respect any review blog that wants to skip a project with “celebrity overtones,” and I was very glad all of these places now wanted to review Ghost Notes. I was even more glad when each review came back glowing. PODBRAM named Ghost Notes the best work of contemporary fiction for 2009. Jane Smith at The Self-Publishing Review gave Ghost Notes her first ever highly recommended rating. Mark McGinty at The Boogle seemed the most moved, writing, "Each word [of Ghost Notes] fits almost perfectly into place...There is real feeling here, as if this book has some cosmic purpose."
Cosmic purpose. The phrase is fitting. When promoting my work, what was I ultimately shooting for? Was I an opportunist trying to spin my past into a few books sales, or was I genuinely hoping to touch readers with my work? The latter, but how could I expect the people reading my press releases to tell the difference?
In our culture of attention hoarding, it doesn't hurt to take a look at one's cosmic purpose every once in a while, even if it means making decisions that might not get you noticed. If your project is going to be ignored, at least make sure it's ignored for the right reasons.