When we were raising support for moving to France, we got some training to help us through the process. We learned that folks with less money tend to give more, and folks with lots of money tend to give nothing at all. We learned to rest in God’s sovereignty and trust Him to bring the increase. All good lessons.
But one training aspect of support raising has stuck with me. We learned the analogy of the rock driveway. Perhaps you’ve heard it too? It goes something like this:
Imagine yourself at the bottom of a hill, near a mailbox and the entrance to a driveway that snakes up a hill, reaching a home resting on its top. The driveway isn’t paved. Instead it’s a deep layer of crushed rocks. If you measured it, it would reach several blocks long. Now, pretend five of the rocks from the driveway have a red X on their backside. Just five. No more. Your job (as you raise support) is simply to turn over each rock until you find all five.
This is either an encouraging analogy or entirely depressing.
I see it as both.
And as I stretch the analogy to marketing, it makes so much sense.
As a new author, I never realized how much marketing and promotion I would have to do for each book. For those of you starting out, hear me: don’t underestimate how much time marketing takes. Finding out how much time that took surprised me, and continues to surprise me after 40+ books in. But I have learned to absorb that responsibility, often trying several things to see what would stick. I’m turning over rocks, looking for that magical red X. Some things have worked. Many others haven’t. And in the midst of it all, I’m remembering our lessons from France.
- God works behind the scenes when we feel tired (or even when we don’t).
- In marketing, it’s not the famous people who help you the most; it’s the stuff of earth folks who resonate with your message who share it one on one that makes the most impact. (Yes, the power of word of mouth still stands, even in this social media saturated culture).
- Ultimately God brings the exposure, the increase in sales (if He wills it).
- Our job is to simply turn over rocks, to be faithful in small things.
- It’s important not to let the un-marked rocks discourage us or stop us. Ours is a forward-momentum task, learning from what didn’t work and pressing on toward the next opportunity.
- There is no surefire formula to launch a book. And if by chance there were one (short of being a rich person and buying your own books), it would change in an instant.
Q4u: How about you? How are you turning over your rocks today? (And which ones had red X-es?) What have you learned in the process?
Good Ol’ Summertime
So many choices I must make
in marketing my book,
and the bright pathways that I take
might make me overlook
a modest uninviting trail,
so very dim and bland,
that leads unto the Holy Grail
and the Promised Land.
Oh, what to do? I am beset
by opportunity’s plethora,
and I fear that vain regret
may well become the aura
of my faith, so badly shaken,
in pondering the Road Not Taken.
Beautifully wrought, Andrew.
Mary, I really like the picture of turning over rocks to find the red X’s to figure out what will work for marketing. I’m not published yet, but I’ve seen a number of tactics used as I’ve been a part of street teams to help get books out there. It seems like having a solid platform is a great foundation for marketing books, since marketing strategies seem to change frequently. I’ve been working on my email list and on discovering what forms of social media I enjoy but that also seem to be effective.
I’m so proud of you for working on your email list. That gets a lot of ROI.
Well, Mary, it doesn’t feel like I’m turning over any rocks today. We’re scrambling like crazy to get ready for summer camp. Not much writing, not much promoting. Then again, what do I write about? Kids, in the forest, having adventures with insane animals. Why do I love these things? I’ve lived them. I grew up at a small Bible camp on a mountain meadow riding horses bareback, scaring herds of elk … riding through herds of elk. Yes, as a sane adult I cringe at the danger we shrugged off. Dreaming of a Newfoundland puppy and finally getting one and then another one. Raising three boys and being present in the lives of so so many campers over the years as my husband and I returned to serve at the same small camp. I’m posting pictures of my neck of the woods and meadow. My kids and their dog and their chickens. So, maybe just being me is closer to marketing than what I thought. I do write about these things after all.
PUPPIES.
What’s your insta account?
I mostly post on facebook and my blog. I’m about to make my 3rd attempt to make an Instagram account. My first try worked for a few months and then it quit letting me post. So I deleted my account, waited a month, and tried again to no avail. But I’m going to try again because I think that my love of photography would be a good match for Instagram. Hopefully, I can be victorious! Here is my new Insta= kristen_joy_wilks_author
I love this. The rock with the red x is a great analogy. Thank you, Mary, for sharing this inspiring blog with us today.
And now, back to turning over rocks. 🙂
Hallie
You’re a rockstar!
I thought that Twitter was an “unmarked rock,” then just last week a TV multimedia journalist asked for an interview. A popular restaurant that carries my WWII book (“Leora’s Letters,” the story behind the brothers on the Dallas County Freedom rock–all five served, only two came home) saw the results and asked for more copies! You never know which doors God will open and when.
Joy, that’s awesome!! Congrats!
That is so true, Joy. Thanks for sharing this story! It’s encouraging.
Mary, what a great analogy! I’m not yet into the marketing stage and I confess the thought of it overwhelms me a bit. But I’ll keep turning over rocks along the way. Some of the rocks with red X’s have been writers’ conferences; some encouragement and challenge from my critique group.
Thank you for this imagery!
Blessings,
Carol
I so agree about conferences and critique groups!
I love this analogy, Mary. Thanks for sharing! There’s a bigger picture in our obedience.
yes, so true, Deb.