Leaving the Comfort Zone

Growing up, my family’s go-to “fancy dinner spot” was Red Lobster. Every time there was a special occasion, we were sure to go out to eat there, loading up on Cheddar Bay biscuits, New England clam chowder, and plenty of shrimp scampi.

One time we were celebrating my grandma’s birthday, and the place was fairly empty. I noticed a waiter approaching another table across the dining room, and he was “on.” He walked with easy confidence. He spoke with a loud, cheerful tone. He worked the crowd like he was performing for a sell-out audience and not just reciting the lunch specials to four elderly people wedged into a booth.

I don’t know why, but something about that guy’s enthusiasm stuck with me. In that moment, a crazy thought struck me: Someday, I want to be a waiter! I want to walk up to people with that much confidence and just win them over with my charm — all while wearing a garish tropical shirt!

This might be an unusual aspiration for most people, but it was especially off-the-wall for me. When I was a teenager, I was extremely shy. I had a very small group of friends, and I was generally terrified to talk to anyone else (especially girls). Public speaking was something I had improved at since middle school, but only because I had to do it every year. The thought of me approaching strangers and wowing them with seafood-themed banter — or dealing with their wrath when I screwed up their “build-your-own combo” order? I would sooner go streaking.

So it is often with great pride that I admit, decades later, that I did become a waiter during my college years, and I was pretty darn good at it. After I graduated high school, I told myself, “You are going to become a waiter because it terrifies you. You are going to learn how to go up to people and just talk to them because you need that skill. Go do it!” And I listened to me.

That determination, and the resulting “people skills,” has helped me tremendously in life. I am now much more comfortable talking to people — to the point where I can make conversation with nearly anyone, or talk in front of a group of strangers without hesitation. I mean, I gave a eulogy for someone I barely knew because the person who wrote the speech was having trouble speaking to the crowd.

So it’s with some shame that I admit I am petrified to market myself. You would think the same basic principles as being a waiter would apply to marketing: approach strangers, find out what you have to offer that they would want, and convince them to buy what you’re selling.

But the thought of trying to sell my books, to promote my stories, to “drive traffic” to this website — mortifying.

Yes, some of the fear stems from approaching strangers.

Some of it comes from my genuine ignorance of where to begin.

And no small part of my apprehension is rooted in the “imposter syndrome” — the belief that I’m not actually very good at writing, so I shouldn’t put it out in the public, especially not for money.

Well guess what? It’s time to put my mouth where the money is! 🤑

My April Ambition is to learn how to market my writing AND try at least three marketing strategies until I can tell if they work.

Step 1: start my research! If you have any recommendations or advice, this guy is all ears 👂👂

Time to Learn and Earn!

Read and Reap!

Market and Make It!

Stop While I’m Ahead!