I sold my first book in a 13-way bidding war among all the top publishers in the U.S.
With no followers!
And right at the top of the pandemic!
For a crapload of money!
Only in hindsight was I able to breathe and consider what exactly I DID that might be repeatable or teachable. What magic I conjured. Some of it was luck, right place right time right idea, but some of it was definitely me. And I’m working that naming-and-claiming muscle: I did a lot right. And it IS teachable.
By “right” I mean the small choices I made at consequential moments to invite myself in, to give myself permission to show up as weird and specific and flawed and excited as I actually am, rather than listen to the voices I’m quite convinced we ALL have in our heads that say some version of “Surely they can’t handle/don’t want the real me.” It’s the echoes of millennia of misfits pushed to the margins, muzzled, made to feel wrong for existing—but quite inconveniently the echoes don’t come with that warning sign. “These messages don’t belong to you; they’re just f*cking with you; love yourself louder than them.”
I talk a lot about the voice part of permission work—stepping onto that stage, or turning on that ring light, and talking like a person even when the stakes are impossibly high. It’s kinda what my whole book is about. But I think the rightest thing I did over the whole year-long book-selling sojourn was invite myself to the page in a 75-page proposal that I remember Dan Blank responded to with “are you kidding me??” Apparently it was quite confident.
For the writers among us: inviting ourselves to the page is a little duh. It’s, one might say, the whole entire job. But a proposal is different—it resembles both the writing itself AND self-promotional copy ABOUT the writing. “In this book I will…” was the loop going through my head all year. How do you invite yourself into THAT without getting self-conscious and falling for the echoes? How do you make THAT writing come alive and feel personal and undeniable and 13-way bidding warrish?
I’ll tell you what did it for me.
Because I think this one tiny decision I made one tiny afternoon in August of 2019 changed everything thereafter.
...This is the beginning of my first Substack post. For the rest, please sign up (it's free!) and join me in this grand experiment.
https://lnkd.in/g3Cq7Z4x
Instructional Design Consultant at University of North Texas
3moOthers and I backed a project on your Kickstarter page. The project people have gone dark and taken our money. We need you, the CEO of Kickstarter, to help us navigate this problem. The response from Kickstarter is to tell us that you protect the privacy of the project team. You have allowed them to take over two million dollars of our money and have not responded to us using the communication tool and method you and Kickstarter provided. Your response to us as backers is to tell us you take the privacy of project teams on Kickstarter seriously. What about the rights of the consumers who backed this project. Your company has been rude, obtuse, and one-sided in approaching those of us who trusted you to ensure we were involving ourselves with a product and company with ethics. What is your response?