Why Authors Need to Constantly Promote their Books

By Team Azuni

For authors, writing a book is just one part of the process. The other crucial part is promoting it. Many writers make the mistake of assuming that their work will speak for itself and that readers will naturally find their books. However, the reality is quite different. With the proliferation of self-published books and the competition from traditionally published works, authors need to actively promote their books to reach their target audience. In this article, we will explore the reasons why authors need to constantly promote their books.

  1. Visibility

One of the most obvious reasons for authors to promote their books is to increase their visibility. Without promotion, it is unlikely that anyone beyond the author’s immediate circle will hear about their work. Even with a traditional publishing deal, authors need to be proactive in promoting their books. Publishers have limited resources and can only promote a handful of books at a time. Therefore, it’s up to the author to create buzz around their work and generate interest among potential readers.

  1. Establishing a Brand

Promoting a book is also an opportunity for authors to establish their brand. Readers are more likely to remember an author if they have seen their name and work promoted in various places. Consistent promotion helps authors to create a recognizable brand and establish themselves as a credible and trustworthy source of information or entertainment. This brand recognition can lead to increased sales and even opportunities for future projects.

  1. Building an Audience

Promoting a book is not just about generating immediate sales but also about building an audience. If readers enjoy an author’s work, they are likely to want to read more of their books. By promoting their work consistently, authors can build a loyal fan base who will eagerly anticipate their future projects. This can translate to increased sales and more opportunities for the author.

  1. Differentiation

With so many books available in the market, it can be challenging for authors to differentiate their work from the competition. Promoting a book helps authors to highlight the unique aspects of their work and stand out from the crowd. By promoting their work consistently, authors can highlight the unique features of their book and attract readers who are interested in those specific aspects.

  1. Engaging with Readers

Promoting a book is an excellent opportunity for authors to engage with their readers. Social media platforms and author websites allow authors to interact with their audience, answer questions, and provide additional information about their work. This engagement can help authors to build a strong relationship with their readers and foster a sense of community around their work.

  1. Staying Relevant

Promoting a book is not a one-time event. To stay relevant, authors need to promote their work consistently. By staying active on social media and other platforms, authors can remain in the public eye and generate ongoing interest in their work. This ongoing promotion can lead to increased sales and opportunities for the author.

Writing Is Thinking

Sally Kerrigan is a freelance editor and copywriter, and associate editor at A List Apart. She is trained as a librarian and can improv about information literacy anywhere. Snark along on Twitter.

Writing is intimidating. There’s this expectation of artful precision, mercurial grammatical rules, and the weird angst that comes with writing for other people. You start with a tidy nugget of an idea, but as you try to string it into language, it feels more like you’re pulling out your own intestines.

But you’re not a writer, so this isn’t your problem, right? Well, the thing is, writing is not some mystic art. It’s a practical skill—particularly since most of our online communication is text-based to begin with. When you write about your work, it makes all of us smarter for the effort, including you—because it forces you to go beyond the polite cocktail-party line you use to describe what you do and really think about the impact your work has.

Done well, it means you’re contributing signal, instead of noise.

No one’s born with this skill, though. We hear routinely from people who say they’d love to write for A List Apart or start blogging, but don’t know where to start. They feel unfocused and overwhelmed by the task. If this is beginning to sound like you, read on—because I’m going to walk you through how writing works, and how you can get better at it.


I mean, yeah. But I’m not asking you to write pages of flourishing prose in one sitting. (Hint: nobody does that, anyway. I’ll get to that.) I’m asking that you start with thinking. I suspect, if you’re a reader, you’re already a thinker—which means you’re halfway there. Really. Because writing—that first leap into taking your idea and making it a Thing People Read—isn’t really about wording. It’s about thinking. And if you can tell the difference between an article that knows what it’s about and one that exists purely to sell ad space, then you’re pretty good at that already.

Think about the things you had to look up on the internet just to figure out how to do your current job. Or maybe those things aren’t even on the internet—you learned from direct experience. You should write that stuff down, because when you connect your ideas into a written piece, you give voice and direction to something that otherwise just rattles around in the form of entrenched habits and beliefs—a resigned “that’s just the way we’ve always done it around here.”

Choosing the words to describe your work means you’re doing it on purpose. You’re going on the record as someone who thinks about why they do what they do, and understands how each decision affects the results. And developing this knack for critical thinking will also make you better at what you do.

Starting with something messy

Thinking: check. Now you just need to start putting your ideas on paper. Try not to reread until you absolutely have to, preferably on a different day altogether. Just think about what you’re trying to say, and jot the main ideas down. If you’re not sure how to finish a sentence, abandon it halfway through. If you want to write extensively about one particular idea but your mind’s moving too quickly to flesh it all out, paraphrase for now and move on to the next big point.

When the words aren’t forthcoming, stick to paraphrasing. That’s all outlining really is: paraphrasing what you’d actually like to write about. Worst-case scenario here is that you’ll end up with a lot of open questions you’d like to answer. “More research needed” is an open door, not a reason to stop writing.

If you’re anything like me, the end result of this first step is going to look a little like an outline interspersed with rants and probably a few side notes about errands you realized you need to run this afternoon. It is laughably far from something you’d share with anyone.

In other words, it’s a rough draft.

With this, you have formally started writing. It doesn’t look pretty, does it? And it won’t until the very end. But this is an essential part of the process. Have a look at what you’ve got. You may have to cut through a lot of the ranting (and certainly the grocery list) to get to it, but somewhere in there is the heart of your idea, the takeaway that you want your readers to have. Find it.

Coming to your point

Imagine you’re showing a neighbor around your house before you go on vacation. Even if you spend an hour yakking about lasagna recipes, or the weather, or the latest gossip about your other neighbors, you’ll probably sum up the key points: the houseplants are here, the gas and water shutoff are there, and the cat food is under the sink.

Your rough draft is the yakking. You want to get to the cat food: your thesis. By the time your neighbor shows up and you’re out of cell phone range, the week-old gossip will be a lot less important than the cat food. Start with your main takeaway idea, and state it as clearly as you can in the early part of your draft. This is what you hope your readers will remember, and it’s what will organize and guide the rest of your piece.

For example, take this very article. I hope you’re enjoying the read so far, but the reason it’s really appearing here in A List Apart is not because I’m so terribly witty and insightful. It’s because I want to strip away the magic of good writing and explain the actual, learnable, non-mystical work that goes into it. I want you to come away from it thinking, “If writing is really mostly about thinking rather than wording, I could totally give this writing thing a try.” That’s the cat food.

I started outlining with this in mind, using very literal and awkward phrasing like, “Writing is a teachable/learnable skill that people should learn about more.” The good phrasing comes later, but you can see the glimmer of an idea there.


Most how-to documentation is just formalized anecdote. This is how we learn. Here is the thesis statement for nearly all training documentation out there: “This is what’s worked so far to attain this particular goal and will probably work for you, too.” That’s an argument! It’s hidden underneath just about all the advice that’s out there (including this article): “Here’s what worked for me when I wanted to accomplish [task].” It’s definitely worth writing down—consider how many Google searches are typically answered by precisely this kind of information.

Personal anecdote is hugely helpful, especially in a fast-changing field like web design and development. To turn your piece from a meandering narrative into something more substantial, though, here are a few things to think about.

First of all, why did this excerpt from your experience stand out to you, personally? Was this the moment something clicked for you regarding your work?

Secondly, why do you think things turned out the way they did? Were you surprised? Do you do things differently now as a result? When you spell this out, it’s the difference between journaling for yourself and writing for an audience.

Finally, is this something others in your line of work are prone to miss? Is it a rookie error, or something more like an industry-wide oversight? If you’ve tried to search online for similar opinions, do you get a lot of misinformation? Or is the good information simply not in a place where others in your field are likely to see it?

Supporting your readers

As an editor, I usually come in around this phase. This is also the point where you’re no longer writing for yourself and are instead truly writing for an audience. You may have had a loose theme you wanted to explore in your first draft, but at this point, we need to start thinking about your readers. Thanks to your rough draft, you’ve got a better idea of the central point of your article. Maybe there are even a few readers out there who will read that pithy summary and immediately agree with you.

But most people will need more explanation, or even some convincing, to come around to your point of view. This is where your supporting arguments come in.

The phrase “supporting arguments” probably recalls a few five-paragraph-essay-fueled nightmares for you, and I won’t pretend it isn’t a pain to dig back into your draft’s structure to work out strong organization. But supporting your main point isn’t something you do just for the invisible essay-graders out there. You do it for your readers—the ones who live outside your own brain and don’t benefit from shared neural connections.

A supporting argument, in short, adds weight and legitimacy to your main point by showing how it applies in related situations. Go back to your main takeaway statement, and imagine that a skeptical reader replies with, “Why?” Why is that claim true? Why does it matter? Or, better yet, “What does that do for me?” Sometimes you’ll need to show hard data. Other times, just fleshing out a good example will help your readers follow along. (The latter is the approach I’ve taken.) You don’t need to intimidate people with your brilliance here; it’s really more of a conversation than a debate.

How many supporting arguments are enough? Basically, you want to get to the point where the unaddressed “Why?” questions from your imagined skeptics are outside the scope of your topic. (“Why should I write?” Because it’s good for your work. “Why is it good for my work?” Because it helps you work more purposefully. “Why should I work more purposefully?” …Maybe talk to your boss or your therapist about that last one.)


It’s easy to see these “why” questions and imagine some kind of antagonistic mob. Most readers aren’t in this mode, though; more often, they’re simply distracted, and need reminders of what you were just saying—imagine someone with half an eye on a football game or one hand on an unruly toddler.

You want to be a friend to your readers here, in the sense that you want to respect their time and attention. Except in rare literary circles, there’s no good reason to make your readers work hard just to understand what you’re trying to say. Each supporting argument or illustrative example you include needs to connect clearly back to your main point; the whole thing is moot if your readers trail off before getting to the cat food.

Sometimes when I begin outlining, I make these cognitive ties overly literal so that it’s easier for me to keep track of where my own brain is going (e.g., “Explain why a clear organizational structure makes it easier for readers to keep their attention on your writing”), and later I’ll flesh out the language and section transitions to feel a little more natural (e.g., this section).

This is an ongoing part of the process, too. Once you start showing other people your drafts, a good question to ask at every stage is, “Did you get lost anywhere?” This is one of the few questions people are likely to answer honestly, since they’ll often believe “getting lost” is something that reflects on their reading comprehension and not your written organization. (Think again!)

And if someone does get lost? That doesn’t mean your argument is a lost cause; it probably just needs more coaxing out of the coils of your brain.

Getting to “good” writing

At this point you have the structure of a solid essay. In the editing world, this is pretty far along the path to publication; most of what remains here are line edits to improve word choice and sentence structure.

This is also where, unfortunately, word nerds get a little intimidating with their fervor. (Disclaimer: I am one of these people. Don’t take it personally. We live for these things.) This isn’t likely to be the stage that will break your essay. You’ve already put in the hard work by establishing the structure.

At this point, you’ll clarify meaning in meandering phrases, or perhaps reorder paragraphs to keep the narrative momentum running smoothly. It is decidedly different work from the writing you did earlier—sometimes more satisfying (it feels wonderful to get a sentence to really sing), but also with more hang-ups (instead of breezing along, now’s the moment when you really do have to make sure your grammatical tenses are all lined up). Here at ALA, we’re pretty rigorous about this stage, and generally get right into the article with our authors. Every publication has its own style, though; many newspaper editors are even more hands-on in the interest of maintaining a consistent voice, while a less formal blog might give each contributor a lot of room to allow individual personality to shine through.

Even when you’re not writing for a publication with its own editorial staff, this is a good point in the process to bring in as many fresh readers as you can. They’ll trip up on all those oddly phrased sentences, repeated words, or misspellings you’ve skimmed past countless times. And at the end of the day, if a typo slips through, or the grammar isn’t quite perfect, it doesn’t make you less of a communicator—which is really what this whole exercise was about.

I’ve encountered a number of people with good ideas who happen to hate the process of writing. I get it—even for people who write regularly, it can be a frustrating process. (By the time this makes it through copyediting and onto the site, you will be reading the ninth version of this article.)

But the payoff is so, so worth it. Wherever you are on your professional path, whether you have years of experience or a fresh outlook to share, writing your ideas down gives you a particular new ownership over what you do. It examines all the “whys” of the job, turning entrenched habits into intentional actions. It equips you with the communication skills to sell yourself and your work to bosses and clients.

This is what crafting purposefulness looks like. We need more of it on the web, just as you need it in your life. Not just wording, but thinking. Not just noise, but signal. Put your ideas out there. We’d love to hear them.

source: https://alistapart.com


Hey writers and aspiring writers, this article from writing like a boss is a good start read before you write


Of course, this refers to sentences that end in two or more !?, or worse, ?!. But it also refers to frequent exclamation point usage.

Some good rules of thumb:

  • if your dialogue needs an exclamation point, usually the dialogue or action isn’t strong enough
  • you never need an exclamation point in narration, unless it’s a children’s book


Limit your exclamation point usage to 2 every 50k words. Never use “!!,” “??,” nor “?!“.


A lot of writing requires research. Once you’ve done the research, it only makes sense to share what you’ve learned with the reader, right?

No. You have to be conscious of blatantly sharing information.


For example: say you had to research women’s roles during WWII America. You could write, “Many women started working in factories after the men went to war.”

Or, you could relate the information to the story: “Minnie started working at the factory down by the shipyard. Just a couple weeks later, Jane and Pearl joined her.”

Be subtle in how you relay information, especially historical fact. Your reader is always smarter than you expect.


It’s amazing how many people will complain about head-hopping in a book.

The problem is it draws you out of the story. You’re focused on one character, and then you’re jolted into the mind of another.


Head-hopping happens a lot in first drafts, which is fine. What happens in a first draft stays in the first draft. But when you get to editing, be conscious that you’re staying within the mind of your main character(s).


A character gasps dramatically at stunning news. A wounded character “suddenly finds the strength” to run. A character who was just crying is now laughing. See the pattern?

Beyond action, this applies to dialogue. No realistic sibling would say, “Hey, lil’ bro.” And no one in their right mind would say, “Your sister Liz is part of the clan, isn’t she?”


Keep the context of the scene in mind. e.g. If the scene is dramatic, the characters most likely won’t be laughing.

And for dialogue: keep in mind the characters, the context, and the relationships. If you’re unfamiliar with a certain relationship dynamic, do some research first!


A lot of new writers will open a scene with a character waking up. That’s only natural, right? I mean, if you think of the start of your own day, it starts with waking up.

“The difference between fiction and reality? Fiction has to make sense.” – Tom Clancy

Even if you don’t start your chapters by a character waking up, it’s important to be mindful that your scene openers don’t follow the same pattern. It can start to get melancholic.


Mix it up a little! Play around with your openers. It’s fun to get creative with it.

If you’re editing, it helps to cut everything up till where the action starts.


My brother suggested this one: “if you keep a scene you had to cut just because you like it, that’s a bad sign.”


If the book still reads fine without the scene, that’s a good sign it should be cut. If you aren’t positive, ask a friend or critique partner.


This applies to two things –

One: filler words like wasthat, and so.

Two: using out-of-place words to make your writing “more intelligent,” especially if you use a thesaurus.


Firstly, don’t use big words that make you seem smarter. The best writers can get their points across using the simplest terms.

Second, be mindful of filler words, especially while editing. Here are some examples of filler words from Writers Write:


The trick with action writing is to balance dialogue and, well, action.

On one end of the scale, you can have a scene that’s all dialogue and little action. It can get boring. Your readers are thinking, just do something already!

On the opposite end, however, it’s all too common to have scenes that are all action. Just say something already!

It’s a tricky thing to balance. But the solution is simple.


Whether you lean toward dialogue or action, remember you can mix them. Here’s a quick example:

“Isabel?” she said. “I never cared for her.”

And here’s that same line, with an action in place of the tag:

“Isabel?” She leaned back in her seat, picking at her fingernail. “I never cared for her.”

See more examples below:


Bonus: filler words in an attempt to make dialogue “more realistic,” including umuhsowell, and even yes and no. Oftentimes, these filler words can be scrapped entirely.


Pacing is one of the most difficult sides of technical writing to master. But it’s worth learning!

Fast pacing is when the scene seems to move quickly, like a chase scene. Slow pacing is, you guessed it, slow; like a heartfelt scene.

But mess it up, and your readers will either get overwhelmed by the speed, or bored by the gradual pulling along.


Pacing may seem out of control, but you have more power over it than you might think.

Quick words and short sentences make fast pacing. While longer words, more punctuation, and lengthy paragraphs tend to slow the writing. Neither are “bad.”

You can change it based on the context: if you’re writing a fight scene, stick to fast pacing. but if it’s a romantic scene, slow pacing should do the trick.


Your readers want a diverse, entertaining cast of characters. And to pull it off, they can’t be duplicates of one another.


Take the time to develop your main characters through character questionnaires and writing exercises. What can also help is to practice writing scenes from the underdeveloped character’s point of view.

Here’s a post that may help:

source: https://writinglikeaboss.com

Recommended reads https://www.amazon.co.uk/shop/urconqueror