Tag: extrovert

Who has the right to be a writer?

Who has the right to be a writer?

CLIFF’S NOTES: Since there seems to be some misreading of this post, here’s the short version. I don’t like marketing. I recognise it is necessary. But authors telling other authors they shouldn’t be authors if they don’t like marketing are behaving horribly, and silencing or hurting people for whom writing is their chance to have a voice.

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When I surveyed authors about their experiences of marketing, I asked for their advice. One of the comments I received was:  “If you want to be successful you have to spend time and money marketing, if you don’t want to, then don’t bother writing.”

I don’t enjoy marketing. There is no secret about that. My personality is fundamentally unsuited to it. And from two and a half years of research I believe that a very large proportion of marketing strategies don’t actually work (this conclusion is NOT just based on my experiences). Yet we are constantly told as authors we have to do it. And that if we don’t throw ourselves into it, writing isn’t the right profession for us. I’ve come across this attitude, in different forms, a fair bit in the last few years. When you unpack the sentiment, the message is: only those who have the particular skill set for marketing have a right to publish books. Really?

The Right to be Heard

Photo by Kat Jayne from Pexels.

There are several reasons why I find it very hard to express myself. One is that I am highly introverted. Another is that I am an Aspie. Growing up, I frequently found myself misunderstood and misinterpreted. I was just not on the same wavelength as most people. Aspies learn to mask their differences. One way of doing that is to keep your thoughts to yourself. Finally, I grew up in an abusive household. I was not allowed to express my thoughts or needs, and I quickly learned it was far safer not to try.  It took me a long time and a LOT of work to realise that I have a right to be heard. But I do. And it makes me extremely angry that people feel they have the right to tell others they’re not cut out to be a writer because they are introverted, neurodiverse or highly sensitive.

In fact, this is a form of victim blaming and discrimination. In the age of #ownvoices surely the neurodiverse and sensitive should be allowed to speak their truths and experiences too? And saying we can’t handle the system so we shouldn’t bother implies it’s our own fault. But why can’t the system be made more friendly to those who don’t fit a certain personality mould? (But that’s a huge issue for discussion another time…)

Does Being Good at Marketing make you a Good Writer?

Do I need to write a paragraph on this? Because essentially the answer is ‘no’, isn’t it? The way algorithms work, there are ‘bestselling authors’ out there who are in that position purely because they know how to maximise keywords, do lots of 99c deals, or are good at ‘branding’ themselves. I went along to a self-publishing workshop several years ago. The first thing we were told was, to be successful, we didn’t need to be good writers. We just needed to brand ourselves well. ‘The writing isn’t important. Just have something to sell.’ Instantly I knew I was in the wrong place.

I guess I’m extremely old fashioned, because I think good writing matters. When I read a book, I’m looking for quality writing and engaging story telling. There are books out now that tell you to make a living as an author you need to bring out a new book every three months. There is a growing churn mentality in publishing. Maybe this works in the short term. If you have one good book people might buy the next one. But if I read a second or third book, and it’s completely unmemorable or formulaic, that’s going to turn me off that author for good. And I am reading more and more books that are unmemorable. How many thrillers can be the most unputdownable book you’ve ever read with totally unexpected twists? Big claims with little return in many, many instances*.

Nobody expected Ursula Le Guin or JRR Tolkien to be good at marketing. It’s only been a ‘job requirement’ for authors very, very recently. And it’s a pretty flawed requirement.

The Extrovert Bias

Photo by Min An from Pexels.

Marketing and writing are different skill sets. I’ve talked about this before, in my post The Introvert Paradox. My point then was that the qualities of introverts – empathy, observation and listening – can make them excellent writers. Yet in Western society extroverts are rewarded and recognised. Marketing is definitely for extroverts. Introverts find it difficult to put themselves out there. But that doesn’t mean what they have to say isn’t important. The social bias against introverts is barely acknowledged. We’re not even close to beginning to address it yet.

Marketing can also require a degree of ‘gilding the lily’. Making things sound as special as they can. As an Aspie, this is the absolute hardest thing I face. It’s important to me to be as factual as possible. Years back I worked in online communications for a shop and typing in product descriptions used to make me cringe because of the exaggerations required to make the copy ‘pop’. I will never be a successful copy writer!

Back to the Idea of ‘Rights’

Ok, this has been a somewhat roundabout journey. But essentially what I’m saying is that there is no law that says being a published author is limited to one personality type, the ‘marketeer’. We’re in an era where a lot of people express their opinions vociferously. But they don’t always think about the damage they’re doing to others by doing so. Telling people they shouldn’t be an author because they struggle with marketing is so wrong. It silences their voices. It says extroverts who love marketing have more right to be heard than anyone else.

I won’t accept anyone else telling me I don’t have the right to be an author because I don’t have the ‘marketing’ skill set or the right extrovert personality. My right to tell my stories is hard won. Authors who write with sensitivity and empathy are desperately needed. Our stories matter.

 

 

Footnote

* Here’s a word of advice – if someone is telling you they’re a best-selling author, and you haven’t heard of them, look at their list. What I’ve discovered is that those who say they’re marketing experts and getting great sales usually have a book for sale on marketing your novel. It’s all spin.

The Introvert Paradox

The Introvert Paradox

When I was a child, I worked out pretty early on that I didn’t relate to the world the way the majority of people did. I didn’t like crowds, or too much noise. While I wanted party invitations so I wouldn’t feel excluded, I didn’t want to actually go. My happy place was at home, reading a book, in the quiet. Big group get-togethers were a nightmare – I much preferred one-on-one conversations. And I wasn’t good at chit chat. I wanted my conversations to be meaningful and authentic. People didn’t seem to want to have discussions at the deep level I wanted. They didn’t seem to notice or think about the same things I did. I felt things ‘too deeply’, strongly affected by what happened to myself and others. People often labelled me shy, but in reality I was highly introverted.

Perhaps if I’d had parents who recognised my fundamental nature and didn’t try to force me to be different, I would have been able to accept who I was. But at home and in the outside world I was constantly told I was ‘too serious’ and ‘too sensitive’. I was often forced into situations that I found deeply uncomfortable. I quickly learned there was something fundamentally wrong with me.

When I went to university I studied social work. I learned I was a very empathic listener, but I hated the role plays that were a big part of my training. Once I started work my sensitivity was valuable in working with people who were at a crisis or low point in their lives. But I would end my workdays completely exhausted, overwhelmed by other people’s emotions. I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay in the profession long term as the emotional cost was too high.

The book that made a difference

In 2013 I came across a newly published book, Quiet, by Susan Cain. This book was a revelation for me. It grabbed me from the first blurb, when I read:

‘Sensitivity and seriousness are often seen as undesirable. Introverts feel reproached for being the way they are.’

That was me.

Cain’s book outlines how the brain chemistry of an introvert is different to that of an extrovert. Research shows that sensitivity, the tendency to notice more and to feel and think deeply are all hardwired into the introvert brain (p. 103). Yet society does not reward or even cater to introverts. They often feel like fish out of water. Cain made me realise there is nothing ‘wrong’ with having an introvert brain. (If you want to know more, start with her TED talk – follow the link.)

From the age of eight I wanted to be a writer, and the more I understood my nature, the more I thought this was a job that would suit me. (Which is not to say I chose it for that reason – it chose me really, because I always had stories running around inside my head, and I HAD to let them out, but it helps to find work that suits your personality.) Alongside my sensitivity, I was highly imaginative, and could easily work on my own for long periods of time. At school I was always daydreaming, creating places and characters and stories.

I achieved my dream of being a published author in June 2017. And almost immediately descended into a pit of despair. Because somehow being an author now seems to require a high degree of extroversion.

Extroversion Required

I don’t have a problem with giving talks or being on panels. I have a background in improvised theatre, and as someone who thinks deeply about all sorts of things I have a lot of ideas I can talk about. So I actually love that side of being ‘an author’. What I have a problem with is the regular social media socialising and the requirement to be a marketing person.

Authors are constantly told now that they must have a strong social media presence in order to sell their books. They need to join and actively engage in numerous groups and platforms. The risk is, if you do this just to sell books, you’re not being authentic and you are using the people around you.  Social media can allow for authentic and meaningful engagement. I wouldn’t want to do it otherwise. But that takes time. I run my own editing business and parent two teenagers whilst being an author, so time is in short supply. The more time I spend on social media, the less I have to write or be with my family. And as an introvert, I recharge my batteries through time alone. So social media is a constant weight on my shoulders.

As for marketing, this requires an extrovert approach. You need to be willing to draw attention to yourself and talk up your author ‘brand’ and your books. This might be in person, such as at a market stall, on social media, or through writing copy. And I really, really struggle with this, for a range of reasons, but fundamentally because it’s like asking a fish to climb a tree – it goes against my introvert nature to the point where I feel sick and anxious. I am often torn between the expectation that I do ‘marketing’, and my overwhelming need to run screaming in the other direction. I could do a whole other blog post about the damage that is done to introverts by expecting them to behave like extroverts but I’m already over my word count so I’ll come back to that.

So where is the paradox?

Well, the thing is, I think my introvert nature is an asset to my actual writing. My hypersensitivity – my tendency to notice things others don’t and to think and feel deeply about them – all help me paint my stories with vivid colours. I think these personal characteristics make me a better writer.* But in the last year I’ve spent a lot of time sobbing quietly to myself at the realisation that either I have to actively undertake marketing, the mere thought of which escalates my anxiety to ridiculous levels, or come to terms with the fact that my stories won’t be noticed in a book market that is crowded with authors going ‘look at me!’.

I definitely haven’t found any answers to the paradox. All I know is that some days I can live with the tension between who I am as an author and who I’m supposed to be, and other days I can’t. But if you’re an introvert author, please know you’re not alone. Maybe we can have a deep and meaningful chat in a quiet corner at a writers festival some day soon.

 

* I am not comparing myself to anyone else here. Just to myself. I am not in any way putting down extroverts or saying I’m in any way better. And there you have a classic example of the introvert tendency to worry about every single thought that comes out of my brain, and whether I’ve upset anyone and… argh!!! Overthinking is definitely an introvert thing.