Is It All Just Gimmicks Now?

Spoiler Alert: Nothing means anything anymore.

Good art shouldn't require the artist to trick people into buying his or her work. "Well, it's just marketing. How do you think Tide Detergent became the laundry legend it is today?"

Come to think of it, I should be a laundry legend. A quick calculation tells me that I've done close to 10,000 loads of laundry in my life (so far). But I digress.

Everyone is so focused on the gimmick that quality is nothing but a minor detail. When it comes to book buying, I've been on the losing end of gimmicks, too. Maybe a better term is "hype". Big, big promises; teeny, tiny rewards.  

Ehh, you buy a book, you take your chances. I'm not sobbing nor gnashing my teeth over bad book purchases. Know how many autobiographies I've bought that I couldn't manage to get through? All the blurbs written for them by famous people were lies. 

I just watched a podcast tonight on which a popular author mentioned a great book he'd read that was published a year ago, a great book that no one has ever heard of. Apparently, the writer of that book just didn't understand the game. Or refused to play it.

What brought this topic to mind was two emails I received; or newsletters, more accurately. The first was Jane Friedman's "The Bottom Line", in which she reports on publishing industry news. In her latest newsletter, she noted:

Reese Witherspoon’s company has launched a book club, Sunnie Reads, for Gen Z. The women-focused media and lifestyle company has teamed up with luxury fashion brand Coach to launch Sunnie Reads. According to the company’s own research, reading is one of the top five leisure activities among Gen Z. The first club selection will be in January. 

Because I guess nothing says reading like designer handbags. I mean, when you think of one, you automatically think of the other.

So, is this "book club" really selling books, or is it selling purses? Damn, that's a tough one. "Hey! Buy this $250.00 purse and we'll throw in a crappy novel! Reese picked it personally--the novel, we mean. She's got plenty of designer handbags already."

Next, and I don't mean to pick on Miblart. I like Miblart, despite the fact that I gave them express permission to display my book cover on their site, but they apparently didn't consider it good enough to do so. (Hey, Miblart, you designed it.) 

Their latest email:

As a 'thank you' for supporting us, we're preparing a special cover design Christmas gift for you. So if you’re with us, please feel free to record a video or a few videos and send them to me or directly to (name withheld).

•  The video should be shot with the front-facing camera.

• The position of the camera needs to be vertical as we’re hoping to share the video on Reels.
• The video needs to be 3–6 seconds long, or may be longer.

"A special cover design Christmas gift for you." 

For me?? Aww, just what I always wanted! Free advertising for your company! I'm certain my three-second video is going to sell a lot of copies of my novel. (Don't blink!)

Indie authors are now apparently working for well-established, well-funded corporations. (Well, to be clear, Reese isn't going to pick a novel by an indie author.) And here I thought I was self-employed! 

You've gotta admire the balls. It's not just these two. Every business concern related (or unrelated) to book publishing expects us to support them; not as in rah-rah support, but financially support. 

What are you guys doing for me? 

Luckily or unluckily, I haven't bought a handbag in years. I believe I picked up my last one at Target for about $29.00. No worries; I've got at least ten former handbags stuffed in the back of my closet, so I can switch them out at will. And Target didn't try to push some cringey rom-com on me as an extra-added bonus.

As far as videos, I don't do them, and if I did, they'd be for my website; not Miblart's. All a presumptuous request like this does is make me want to steer other authors away from the company. 

"Well, don't you want to support us?"

No.

I want to support me. That's right; it's all about me. I already supported you with my $270.00, not that you helped me sell any books; just sayin'.

I foresee a world in which everything is tied to books. Speaking of laundry detergent, I'm old enough to remember Duz Detergent. Their commercials always aired during my mom's afternoon soap operas. Duz offered a piece of dinnerware inside every box--buy enough detergent and you'd eventually have a complete set of china. Oh, and Breeze. Breeze stuffed a towel inside each box. WTF? How much detergent was displaced by the bulk of that bath towel? Well, now Proctor & Gamble should start dumping novels inside their containers. Sure, a novel's not as useful as a dishcloth, generally, but a gal needs something to do while she's sitting through the rinse cycle.

And here's a great idea: Like most consumers, I get about three Amazon deliveries a week, so why can't Amazon throw a book into each box? I mean, they've already got 'em on hand. Or just a QR code for a free ebook. 

Brand loyalty, baby. That's what we're all aiming for. I picture myself pushing my cart down the supermarket aisle and spying a novel tied with a pretty blue ribbon to the front of the Hellman's mayonnaise jar. No way am I grabbing the Kraft. 

I'm announcing today that I'm open to a corporate partnership. I'm actually not picky, but I'd prefer to join with a product people actually want, unlike my books. So, DoorDash, hit me up. Who doesn't want to curl up with a nice moo goo gai pan and a novel? Proposed logline: "Hungering for more than a good meal?" or "Feed Your Face; Feed Your Soul", which is a nice combination of lowbrow/artsy.

I don't actually care if no one reads my book. You, DoorDash, will be buying up millions of copies to tuck inside food delivery bags, so it's a win-win. Or maybe just a win, but that's all I care about.

I started out this post really hating these marketing gimmicks, but I think I've talked myself into appreciating them.