October 13, 2014 § 24 Comments
The first answer was ‘zero.’ I’d never really understood Twitter. And Facebook–well, I’d like to keep saying whatever I want, so I figured it was time to make an author page. And set up a Tumblr. An Instagram. That new Ello thing. Klout. Hootsuite to organize it all. Started writing here at the Brevity blog.
Four months later, I’m at 1000 Twitter followers. I wake up every morning and squint into my phone, four inches from my un-contact-lensed-eye, send out some retweets, check in with Facebook, browse through Instagram. Sundays I set up social media for the whole week, lay down a base of 3-5 tweets a day of things I think my connections would like to know. When I’m waiting in a line (or hey, I’ll admit it, on the toilet) I send some tweets, upload a #picoftheday, like a few statuses, save up links for next week.
It’s not working.
That is, in the sense of
Plan A: Become Media Darling,
Plan B: Go Viral,
Plan C: Sell Books.
I’m pretty much an abject failure. I’m toting up a few retweets at a time, gaining followers, discovering that a Facebook Page (as opposed to profile) is basically unseen unless one pays to advertise, I don’t get Pinterest and I’m too old for Tumblr until I start writing YA.
The reality is that successful online marketing, just like successful offline marketing, is driven by money. A social media presence with no cash behind it doesn’t do much for the average author when it comes to selling books, and squandering precious hours on building a platform that few people will ever see—hours that could otherwise be spent writing—is a mistake that can hurt your productivity and, therefore, your career.
Ms. Bane’s experience as a digital marketing specialist has taught her that the rate is about the same as any other form of direct marketing. One percent. Got a thousand followers? Ten will buy your book–if you’re doing well.
But I dig that morning Instagram time. What’s new in #travel? There’s my friend’s baby rabbits, a new way to wear a hijab, I’ll upload a picture with a recipe as a postcard to my mom. I’ve connected on Twitter with people I never thought I’d be able to talk to (Hi Emily Gould!). I finally decided my personal Facebook was public, and I don’t post anything I don’t want the world to see (my privacy bar is admittedly low).
I’ve decided to stop caring about platform. To, as Ms. Bane says, “monitor and participate in the intellectual life of the publishing community.” To affiliate myself with issues, topics and ideas that I want to write about, so that I’ll know what people care about and what’s already been said. To write blogs that encourage fellow writers. To stay connected with people whom I will one day ask, “Can you please ask three friends to come with you to my reading? Not with a retweet, but pick up the phone?”
There’s more great information on if and why to blog, tweet, and otherwise frolic through the social media playground in “Platforms” Are Overrated at Creative Nonfiction. Check it out–for anyone struggling with “platform,” it’s a relief.
Ironically, Allison K Williams is Brevity’s Social Media Editor. Don’t bother to like her FB author page, but she’s happy to meet you on Twitter.