Like any other business, this publishing game is built in part on personal relationships. Want to rise to the top of an agent’s slush pile? Want to get a blurb from a big-name author? Want to know how to deal with the frustrations of cover designs, finding an editor, or fleshing out the technical details of your plot? All of these challenges and just about everything else you want to know or do can be flushed out through networking. That’s what I want to talk about in the paragraphs ahead.
In no particular order of importance:
Followers, Friends, Likes and Contacts don’t count. There’s a widespread presumption “out there” that the way to start a writing career is to build an enormous social media platform. I see the logic when it comes to nonfiction expertise, but when it comes to fiction, it makes no sense to me to concentrate on finding customers for a product that doesn’t yet exist. Yes, I suppose a well-done blog about one’s writing process could be interesting to other writers, but here’s the sad truth: Writers don’t buy books. I’ve overstated that, of course, but in large measure I think it’s true when it comes to writers’ blogs. I’m not being bitter here at all, but we get statistics every week on how many people visit TKZ every day, and trust me: If all those people bought all our books, we’d all be driving better cars.
Now, think of the number of writing-related groups and blogs you subscribe to through Facebook and LinkedIn and all the other social media platforms. I get that those are the safe spaces that make you comfortable, and give you an opportunity to actively participate in conversations, but if you’re writing, say, about police procedures, might your time and efforts be better spent on groups and blogs that talk about those things?
I don’t think it’s insignificant that the social media push is largely driven by people who make money by helping people build their social media platform. I mean, think about it: Authors are brands and books are products. Would you be more inclined to buy a Chevy over a Toyota because the president of Chevrolet posted a picture of his breakfast?
Step out of the virtual world into the real one. Given that you’re currently reading a blog about writing, I feel a little awkward telling you to push away from the computer and stop reading blogs about writing. None of us are truly who we pretend to be in public forums like this. Many of us try to be genuine–I know that I do–but my armor is always up in an online interaction. My inner-cynic won’t let me get but so close in a cyber-relationship, and I expect the same level of cynicism from others. I would never dream of asking advice or asking a favor from someone I have not met in person.
Go to where the experts are. It’s no secret to TKZ regulars that I’m what you might call a gun guy. I like firearms and I know a lot about them. I also know that there are people who know far more than I do, and that a large percentage of those people will gather in Las Vegas at the end of January for the annual SHOT Show, which is to weapons systems what the Detroit Auto Show is to automobiles. I need to be there.
My first SHOT Show was in 2012, and it was there that I met a guy who is a world renown expert in martial arts and edged weapons. We bonded and became friends. Through him, I’ve met a number of Special Forces operators, and through them some FBI special weapons experts. I try not to bother them too much, but they always take my phone calls and answer tough questions. They trust me never to write things that I shouldn’t and I pay them every year with an acknowledgement and a free book. Most of these guys have become good friends.
But you don’t have to go to Vegas. Want to know about how cops interact with each other? Start with a community ride-along program and chat up the officer who’s driving you around. Listen not just to the words, but to the attitude. Ask that cop if he can introduce you to other cops–say, a homicide investigator–so that you can ask a few questions. I think you’ll be surprised by the results.
You need to meet other industry professionals. Pick a conference, any conference. They grow like weeds around the country–around the world, for that matter. I can’t speak to other genres, but in the world of mysteries and thrillers, you could spend virtually every weekend at a conference. Yes, they cost money, but before you complain about that, remember that writing is a business, and every business requires investment.
- 100% of all business at a conference is conducted in the bar. You don’t have to drink, but just as lions on the hunt target watering holes for their dinner, smart rookies scope out the bar at the conference hotel to meet people. Authors of all stature are there to hang out with old friends and meet new ones. Agents and editors are there to develop relationships with existing clients and to scope out new ones.
- Have a plan. Are you attending the conference to simply get to know people and hang out, or are you going there to accomplish a particular goal? If you’re on the hunt for an agent, be sure to research who’s attending and what kind of books they’re looking for. Basically, read the program booklet.
- Don’t be shy. Okay, you’re an introvert and are uncomfortable around people. I get that. Now, get over it. This is a business, and contacts are not going to come to you. To a person, everyone you see at the bar knows that they’re in a public place among hungry strangers, and they’re willing–anxious, even–to talk with shy rookies.
- Know what you want. After sharing a laugh and a few stories about life and family, be ready for the question, “So, how can I help you?” That’s your cue for your ten-second elevator pitch delivered without notes. With a smile. The home run here is a request to send a manuscript. Then chat some more. This is a people business, so be a real person.
- Hang out with the crowd you want to belong to. I’m always amazed–and a little dismayed–at conferences when I see all the rookies hanging out with each other, while the veterans and bestsellers hang out separately. I don’t mean to be crass–and remember, this is a business conference–but your fellow rookies are not in positions to help you. If Connolly and Lehane and Deaver and Gerritsen are all hanging out, drinking and laughing, pull up a chair. If the Agent of All Agents is holding court, join the crowd. Unless it’s an intense one-on-one business meeting, I guarantee that no one will ask you to leave. (And why in the world would anyone choose such a public forum for an intense one-on-one business meeting?)
Overall, “networking” as a concept attempts to complicate something that is inherently simple. You have goals that you wish to accomplish, and you want to get to know people who can help you get there. As an alternative step, you want to get to know someone who can introduce you to someone who can help you. It’s as easy–and as hard–as showing up and asking.
So, what do you think? What have I missed? Where am I entirely off base?