My agent was getting ready to submit the first non-fiction book I’d written, which meant we were busy cobbling together a book proposal. Fiction writers – which I had been before this – don’t bother with book proposals, so I was a bit skeptical of the whole process. Somehow I had to not only explain what the book was but also demonstrate that there was a market for it. Lacking a crystal ball, I didn’t understand how this was realistically possible.
“You talk about your platform,” my agent explained. “Those are the first people who will buy the book.”
“That stuff? I don’t know if that’s a platform.”
“I deal with platforms and promotion all the time. It’s a good platform.”
I took her word for it. Until then, I did not think I had a platform, because I had heard that an author must build a platform. Building something seemed like a lot of work. I like doing stuff, but I don’t like work. Doing stuff becomes work when I don’t want to do what has to be done. So I guess I’m lazy in that way, but it’s all right because I still get a lot of stuff done – like all the things that comprise my supposed platform. I built that platform by just doing what I wanted to do.
Just doing what I want to do is a defining preference I share with many of the writers I know. It’s a practical one too, because to write a book or a story or a poem or an essay is a discipline of asking myself over and over again, “What is most interesting to me right now?” My writing is never so alive and original and, yes, salable, as when I am hot on the trail of what interests me most. I cannot manufacture this interest; it is either present and I follow it, or it is not and I don’t.
I can’t simply turn off this practical laziness when I leave my desk, either. It has brought me too much happiness. Actually, it has brought me all my happiness. Which is why a little rebellion always stirs in my heart whenever I hear some well-intentioned expert tell me what I have to do to have success in this very competitive business. All I ever have to do is follow my curiosity. It is the only thing that has had led me anywhere I want to be.
So if you are like me, and you love to write but you are a little lazy, and you have heard that you need a platform, and you think you don’t know how build one, don’t worry. Writing has already taught you everything you need to know about building platforms. I go could go on about blogs and websites and mailing lists, but all of that is useless until you are curious. Without your curiosity – which doesn’t care about hits, or likes, or retweets, or sales – nothing you start will be finished. You will rebel, and feel bad because you haven’t done what needs to be done, and maybe even tell yourself that you aren’t getting anywhere.
And so you go back to writing, and eventually you finish something, and you wonder, “How could I share this other people?” And you find that question interesting, which is to say you are curious, and now you are on your way.
“A book to keep nearby whenever your writer’s spirit needs feeding.” Deb Caletti.
You can find Bill at: williamkenower.com