I wrote a book. That part was difficult. But apparently, that wasn't the difficult part.
The difficult part came after publishing it: marketing it.
I see authors regularly posting about their books, asking people to buy them, sharing reviews, celebrating rankings, requesting friends to spread the word, making reels, running campaigns. And I understand why. A book cannot find readers if nobody knows it exists.
But then there is an introvert like me.
I can write a book and put my thoughts in front of complete strangers. But personally message someone and say, “Hey, I wrote a book. Would you buy a copy?” That feels almost impossible.
Even posting repeatedly about my own book makes me uncomfortable. After one or two posts, a little voice starts asking: Am I talking about this too much? Are people getting irritated? Does this look like I am forcing people to buy my book?
So I stop.
And the strange thing is, I don't think it is because I don't believe in my book. I do. Perhaps that is exactly why it feels so personal. A book is not something I bought and am trying to resell. It contains a part of me. Asking someone to buy it somehow feels like asking them to place a value on something personal.
So the book sits there, published and waiting, and its author quietly hopes that readers will somehow discover it.
And sometimes, you yearn for just a little sign that someone out there has found it. A review, a comment, a message. Positive or negative, sometimes it almost doesn't matter. You reach a point where you think, Tell me you loved it. Tell me you hated it. Tell me where I went wrong. Just tell me you read it.
Because somehow, silence feels harder than criticism.
Sometimes I think an introvert's book is like a child raised by a quiet parent. The parent loves the child fiercely, wants the child to succeed, and believes the child has something to offer the world. But the parent isn't standing in the street shouting, “Look at my child! Look how wonderful my child is!”
Instead, the parent stands a little distance away, watching, hoping, and feeling ridiculously happy whenever someone notices.
That is probably the contradiction of being an introverted independent author. You want your book to travel, but you don't particularly want to stand at every corner announcing its arrival. You want people to buy it, but you don't want to ask them to buy it. You want people to talk about it, but talking about it yourself feels awkward.
Perhaps that isn't very good marketing. Perhaps algorithms don't reward quiet authors. Perhaps books need authors who are willing to make some noise for them. I am still learning that part.
For now, though, my book and I seem to have reached an understanding. I will occasionally push it gently into the world, and it will have to do some walking on its own.
Because, unfortunately for the book, its author is an introvert.
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