Good morning, Rebels, and welcome back to my life.
May I have your attention, please?
If you’re reading this, that means that for these brief moments, these eight hundred words or less, I have your attention.
But odds are pretty good I don’t have your undivided attention. Many of you are probably checking your phones while you watch this. Or else you’re checking your computer screens while you read this on your phones.
And if you weren’t doing that before, mentioning it makes you about three times more likely to do so. I wonder how much more likely you are to do so when I tell you you’re statistically more likely to do so?
I fell like this is a rabbit hole that could lead to madness.
So I’ve never told you this before, but I write books for a living.
(I’ve told you that before. Too often. You’re probably sick of it).
But as much attention as I am able to gain from you to read this blog post — five, ten minutes out of your day, five days a week. Most times. Not most times. Sometimes. Lots of times it’s days or weeks between posts.
BUT WHATEVER that time investment you’re willing to give my blogs or YouTube videos … books are a whole ‘nother ball game.
Reading a book is a time commitment like no other. And that’s why so many new authors struggle to make it.
Why would you invest twelve hours reading a book when you’ve never even heard of the author before? The only reason you might is if someone you trust tells you, “Dude, you absolutely must read this new book series called Nightblade. It’s totally fantastic.”
Did I mention I write that book series Nightblade? I did. Of course I did. Like I said, I talk about it probably too much.
But the problem is, how do you get people to talk about your book this way? And I mean people other than your parents or your great aunt Jemima. Because no matter how good your aunt Jemima’s pancake syrup is, if she tells a friend, “Oh, my nephew wrote a book and it’s so good,” the friend is going to be like, “Oh, okay, I’m sure that’s your totally unbiased opinion.”
She’s an unreliable source, is what I’m saying.
And meanwhile you’re putting your twelve-hour time investment out there in the world up against YouTube videos and movies and video games, all of which are really really popular with a lot of people. And social media. My God, do you know how much time people spend on social media?
I read an article recently where the author said that books don’t and can’t compete for attention against movies and videos and social media and never have, and then didn’t back that up with anything else.
Are you kidding me?
Books are competing for attention against everything. EVERYTHING is competing for attention these days. Attention and time are the most valuable commodities we have in today’s world.
So often the best way we can convince people to invest their attention in us is by giving them smaller, bite-sized chunks of us.
(Want a bite-sized chunk of me? I’ve got a lot of muscle on my arm I’m not doing anything with. But, like, SO much muscle).
By giving small portions of ourselves on Twitbook and Faceter and our blogs, we say, “Hey, see? I’m a cool guy. You could be forgiven for thinking that one of my books was a good time investment. Have I mentioned that I write books?”
So if you’re one of those people who has invested hours of your attention into one or more of my books, I just want to take this time to say thank you.
I know how valuable your attention is. I’m supremely honored that you chose to spend so much of it on my tales of laughs and adventure and badly-disguised villains. (Which are totally awesome and completely worth your money).
I hope you found the attention investment worth it.
And remember that if you DO love an artist, the greatest thing you could do for them is to try and convince other people that they’re worth an attention investment.
So with that being said:
May I have your attention, please?