By John Gilstrap

On March 20, less than two weeks ago as I write this, I received the following email out of the blue:

Dear John,

Last week, your name and “Zero Sum” came up in a staff meeting…

It was the strong opinion of our award-winning Branding / P.R. firm that you are entitled to and would benefit from a significantly greater visibility in the modern world.

We have a new low-cost, high-impact plan that I sense might be perfect for you. Here is our Wikipedia page for your review: [redacted]

Can we arrange a convenient time to discuss this, John?

Warmly,

[President of a well-established, high-powered public relations firm in California]

Yeah, right. I know a scam when I see it. Some fraudster expects me to believe that a firm that represents some really well-known folks is talking about my paperback original that dropped over nine months ago? I might live in West Virginia, but I’m no rube.

Funny thing though. The address for the incoming email matched the email address on the company website. And the Better Business Bureau. I decided maybe it was a mistake to ignore this email completely.

I went stealthy. I went to the company website and filled out the general interest form that anyone from the general public would fill out. That form includes my phone number, and in the comments section, I referenced the email I had received from the president. Then I replied to the original email thusly:

Dear XXX,

 

Lovely to hear from you. These being the awkward times that they are, I have sent a note back through your website seeking authentication of this email. Please feel free to call me on the phone number I left on that inquiry. I look forward to speaking with you.

 

Best,

 

John Gilstrap

To which he promptly replied,

Dear John:

Yes, it’s me, and to be open, I could weep over the seeming necessity of your note.

Warmly,

He called me later that evening and we had a very nice chat about author branding and what he and his firm could do to help me. The details aren’t important here, but they resonated with me. They come with a price tag, of course–significant, but not bank breaking, and hey, I just got a movie deal.

After laying out the general elements of the plan, he closed by saying he didn’t want me to make a decision right then. There are things I need to do to make this work, so there’s an element of commitment. He urged me to think it over for a day or two, but no longer than that. In his experience, after two days, a maybe should be a no, even if the client talks himself into a yes.

I sent him an email the next morning telling him I was ready to go.

A lot of career elements seem to be aligning for me these days. In addition to the SixMin movie deal, Kensington is repackaging the Grave backlist and changing the format of the Grave front list to trade paper, all while launching the new Irene Rivers thriller series.

For this public relations opportunity to arrive as it did and when it did somehow feels right. So I’m rolling the dice and writing some checks.

The John Gilstrap Brand

When it comes to marketing and publicity, I don’t know what sells books and what doesn’t. I don’t think anyone does. But I know that I can work a crowd well and that I deliver a pretty decent speech and workshop, and that a higher profile generally is better for sales than a lower profile.

Enter the John Gilstrap brand–similar to yet different than yours truly. Yes, it makes me uncomfortable because I don’t fully understand all of it yet, and because I do know that it comes with a level of self aggrandizement that will make me uncomfortable. Somehow, if all goes as planned, with the help of my new best friends on the Left Coast, the world is going to see a freshly packaged new breed of author who’s politically conservative, carries a pistol, drinks martinis and lives in the woods of West Virginia.

How they do that without pissing off half of the reading public is a mystery for the future.