Our guest today is Dee Willson who felt the writer’s call at fifteen, when she penned her first novel and received her first rejection to go with it. Over twenty years later, Dee Willson has published short stories, interviews, contributed to blogs, and wrote the soon-to-be-released novel A Keeper’s Truth. She currently resides in Burlington, Ontario, with her husband and their two daughters.
I find it hard, sometimes, to wear two different hats. I’m often envious of friends who can devote the bulk of their time to their craft, to writing, and sometimes wish I could do the same. But wearing a corporate hat has its advantages, and the vantage points are unique. I’ve learned a lot, and enjoy the prospect of sharing my experience with my friends at Writer Unboxed.
Connect with Dee on her blog and on Twitter.
Two Hats, One Woman
In the Writer Unboxed universe, I wear a bright yellow hat. It’s fringed and funky and doesn’t match my corporate attire, but it’s ME, if you know what I mean. It’s my writer hat, the one that screams in bold, has my heart embroidered on the brim, and makes the sun shine on the dreariest of days. I love this hat.
I also have a grey hat. It fits well—all prim and proper—at home in the corporate boardroom. In it I feel professional, experienced, a woman with a head for industry on a large retail scale. I love this hat, too.
Two hats, one woman.
What does this mean in regard to writing? Well, it means my path to publication came with two hats and no dress-up instructions. And believe me, the combination is not always pretty, but I’ve learned a few things from each. I’ll use the four P’s of marketing to bring things into focus.
Product
Seven years ago, when I first donned by funky yellow hat, I sat at my computer and let a story pour out. It was a ten-week whirlwind that had me laughing, crying, dancing in the streets, and when it was over, I had A Keeper’s Truth, my first novel. The feeling was exhilarating, and I cherished this yellow hat like no other.
Soon after, I had to wear my grey hat, the one I have for my day job working for the head office of Canada’s largest book retailer.
Me in the grey hat understood A Keeper’s Truth was now a product, one I could tuck into a drawer for personal satisfaction or publish as a product for sale. The grey hat, wanting to see A Keeper’s Truth on shelves, gave the yellow hat a shake, insisting the product needed refining. So, the yellow hat was dusted off and set to work.
“Edit, edit, then edit some more,” it sang.
It took both hats over three years to make A Keeper’s Truth enticing to a publisher, another three years to hone my craft writing two other novels, and six months with an editor to make it ready for retail.
What I’ve learned: I am in my element in my yellow hat, but if I choose to put a product of that passion into the marketplace, I need to don my grey hat and do what it takes to make that product marketable.
Place
Place, in regard to marketing, is distribution, or how the product gets into the hands of the consumer. For books, this is largely brick-and-mortar and online retailers, and to be honest, this is where me-in-the yellow-hat parts ways with me-in-the-grey-hat.
In the yellow hat, I want nothing more than to play, relishing in my craft. Self publishing, big five, small press, epub, print, the endless array of choices just distract my yellow hat from what it wants to do: write.
But the grey hat, well now, it researched options and decided an agent and traditional small press was the right choice for A Keeper’s Truth.
What I’ve learned: I enjoy my writing time immensely, and therefore choose partners who share the publishing burden, so my time is better spent.
Price
Price, in this case, is the pretty bow. It’s the retail price, the shelf spot, the blurb, the cover. The yellow hat views this as frill, details led by emotion. It picks the prettiest bow without the slightest thought to the consumer.
The grey hat knows the bow is uber-important. A price point can open or close a market. A cover can pull the right consumer in or turn her away. The grey hat sits in board meetings discussing margin vs. markup, sales ratios, sell through rates, profit and loss, a gamut of terms which form the fog in a buyer’s crystal ball.
What I’ve learned: I need to create the best product (story) I can, then package it with the prettiest bow. A great story is more likely to be read and shared when a consumer actually picks it up. Beyond that, it’s anyone’s game.
Promotion
The funky yellow hat likes to write, not advertise. Even with A Keeper’s Truth launching this winter, the me donning the yellow hat is happiest surrounded by book lovers, chatting about writing and reading.
Most would think the grey hat takes over here, getting all bossy. It is the one in the matching business suit, after all. Sure, the grey hat makes lists (email lists, social media lists, review lists, etc.) working hand-in-hand with the publisher to give A Keeper’s Truth its best shot, but even the grey hat knows this is not really advertising.
What I’ve learned: Instead of thinking of promotion as advertising, I prefer to think of it as sharing my passion, mingling with like minds, and making new friends. These things could, someday, result in sales, but I probably won’t know since there are few systems in place to track the results of these endeavors anyway. What I’m guaranteed is a good time with great people. And that, my friends, doesn’t need the four P’s of marketing.
Now, there is no question you all wear hats, hats of all colors and sizes. How do these hats alter your perspective? How have these vantage points changed your path to publication?