There’s something magical and alluring about certain words like….
So one of my goals for 2012 is to become a maven. It just sounds so sexy like I should be standing on the top of a cliff with the wind blowing my long raven tresses while I hold my book in my hands. (Or maybe I’m confusing maven with raven, who might’ve been the name of a character in a book I read at some point? Not sure.)
And certainly readers will line up to sign up for a newsletter or buy a book if one is a maven.
I mean a maven sounds so official like this person knows what they are talking about; hence one must buy all their books.
Makes total sense.
In fact, it’s a marketing or promotional strategy (I’m still trying to figure out the difference between the two) that I’m surprised more authors don’t take advantage of. Clearly that would shoot them up the NY Times bestseller list.
So, maven. What could I proclaim myself a maven of? And it probably should have the whole alliteration thing going too.
I can’t really say I’m a Marketing Maven; well, because I’m not. Though maybe just by saying it readers will believe me. That’s not very ethical and considering I write middle grade fiction along with YA, I’m naturally very moral.
How about Meatball Maven? I make a mean crock-pot of meatballs with almost little or no prep. But that doesn’t really fit into my brand. And meatball is an extremely small niche. I wonder if there is a Kindle list for: children’s literature – spy thrillers – humor – meatballs?
Hmm. Let’s see.
Marvel comics Maven? (My son loves comic books.)
Mailman Maven? (I know exactly when my mail person comes each day, especially when I’m expecting a book in the mail.)
Geez. This is hard.
Any suggestions? Are you a maven? Guru? Or expert? And how have you sufficiently incorporated that into your brand and your use of keywords, tags, and lists?
And there may or may not be meatballs in my short story, THE ALMOST ASSASSIN, in the In His Eyes Anthology. Not making any promises. You never know how lethal meatballs can be.