Into the Fire

More of Jesus, less of me. That’s our mantra as Christians. Subdue the flesh. Escalate the Spirit. In all areas of our lives. Period.

I’ve yet to hear a convincing argument to reconcile self-promotion when pressed against the “less of me” principle. Marketing is selling. That’s a fact. Figuring out the most effective way to sell something comprises the world of advertising and, yes, the world of publishing.

I find it amazing how some advertisements—think of the plethora of Super Bowl ads over the years—entertain us to the max with their humor or make us ponder if the agency who produced them extrapolated the idea from their recent hallucinogenic ingestions. One thing I know for sure is an ad can entertain with its clever ideas but when no one remembers the product when it’s all said and done: Woops!

Selling my own novels requires more innovation than I can muster. Seriously. There must be a way to do it, but it offends me to see how it’s often done. Overkill. Pressure. Constant reminders to see this review or visit this blog. Some authors integrate the marketing superbly with no objections, seamlessly chanting the ever-present phrase: “Who better to sell (promote) your book than you?” Others of us shrink into a fetal form at the coercing nature of pushing our work in front of some reader’s glasses.

If it was simply a matter of discussing our work, pointing out who we think would most be attracted to it: no problem. But it’s rarely that. Nope. It’s pressing all readers to look at the book, buy the book, win the book, love the book.

Mercy.

God, help me. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.