Just before I published my first book on Smashwords a few years ago, I started this blog. The blog was intended to lead readers to the the book. A no-fail strategy, for sure.
Since then I’ve learned that a blog as a vehicle to promote your self-published books is only as good as the blogger. You have to work at blogging almost as hard as you did writing the book. Harder, maybe. And it isn’t as satisfying.
Here’s how to do it: visit and follow a lot of blogs. Those bloggers, flattered to get a follower, will return the favour. “Like” a lot of posts. WordPress helpfully informs bloggers when someone has liked one of their posts, leaving links to posts from the “likers'” blogs. When you get these messages, visit those blogs. Like, comment and follow. Then follow through. Before you know it, you’ll be following dozens, maybe hundreds of blogs and your world will be a whirl of likes and follows.
If you can manage it, leave comments (short ones, of course) on all the blogs you’re following. Bloggers will respond to your comments, and maybe follow your blog. Your followship grows and grows. Some of those people may buy your book.
That’s how it’s supposed to work, but I’ve decided this approach isn’t for me.
I don’t want to follow blogs just to get an obligatory follow-back. Same with comments. I follow only blogs that interest me, or at least look like they might. I want to read and comprehend most of the posts on those blogs, to push the “like” button only when I actually like something and comment only when I have something to say. I have found I can do this reasonably well while following about a dozen blogs, less well with two dozen. I really don’t want to go looking for fresh blogs to follow every day. Blogging becomes a blur and WordPress a bad word.
I’ve been blogging for four and a half years, writing a post every week. I’ve followed a couple of dozen blogs, just enough to experience that blur feeling, but haven’t noticed any increase in book sales as a result. Whatever motivates people to buy my books, I’m pretty sure it isn’t my blog. Maybe I’m not working the blogosphere hard enough.
My blog posts are on two main topics — writing and gardening. The posts on writing are (surprise!) of interest mainly to other writers, all of whom are flogging their own books. Selling books to other writers is not a great strategy. Yes, most writers are also readers, but what with critique group pieces, beta-reading, and reading for purposes of writing reviews (never mind actually writing), writers don’t have much time or mental capacity for leisurely reading. We’re all drowning in books.
My posts on gardening, especially those that include pictures, generate small flurries of “likes” and even a few follows, but no book sales. Evidently gardeners are not in need of novels about a corpse-revivifying physician on a journey of transformation.
The worst thing about blogging as a way to market a book is that it diverts the blogger from writing more books. Some say a writer’s best marketing strategy is to produce a well-written book with an eye-catching cover image and intriguing description, and then do it again. And again. Multiple books generate their own marketing mechanism, in the form of return customers, reviews and word-of-mouth recommendations.
Writers with a considerable social media following may find a blog to be an effective marketing tool. For me it isn’t and probably never will be, because I have no intention to engage in power-blogging. I don’t want to quit, because I find blogging to be good practice in marshaling my thoughts and writing short pieces to a self-imposed deadline. And it is satisfying to get those likes and comments.
But as autumn draws near, I intend to disengage myself somewhat from the time-devouring seductions of the Internet in order to write another novel. I will leave this computer alone much of the time and fire up my old Toshiba laptop (one of those two-inch-thick grey jobs from the turn of the century). It’s not connected to the Great Network in the Cloud, but last time I used it (in 2010) it worked just fine as a glorified typewriter.