I want to help people, giving them tools that can make their lives so much easier, happier, and more fulfilling.
But writing all these things down is only the first step. Just as big a challenge is finding a way to get my words out into the world so people can find them.
A while back, my assistant Shani introduced me to her brother-in-law, Josh Gold, who runs a video marketing and production company. Josh has helped me enormously over the last couple of years, ensuring that both my book covers and my website would be professional and appealing to my audience. I am very pleased with the results, but snazzy book covers (titles, too!) and a fabulous website don’t ensure my exposure. It was Josh’s opinion that the best marketing strategy would be for me to go on podcasts.
From the first time he suggested it, I had the heebie-jeebies. I’d never heard of such a thing before. Those of you who know and love me are well aware of the fact that I’m a septuagenarian; this is hardly my comfort zone.
When Josh and Shani tried to explain what it would entail, my aversion only grew. This was for a couple of reasons:
- I don’t know why, but I thought that I was being put on the stand in a high court. I imagined that some hostile interviewer would try to trip me up or make me defend my three books on Amazon, just waiting for me to stumble over my words or get jammed up in some manner that made me sound like a fool.
- I’m not by nature a competitive type. Even if I could win this imaginary battle, I didn’t want to be in that position. I didn’t want to have to make a pitch and explain why my books are better than anybody else’s. Read mine, I would beg. Don’t read that other book. Waste your five dollars on a kindle book of mine, not the other guy’s.
- The whole thing seemed desperate and embarrassing. There’s something about self-promotion that turns me off. I’m not exactly shy; I ride around in a fairly conventional Hyundai sedan that is painted purple and green. People on the road either give me high fives or ask me to roll down my window so they can ask me why I’d drive in such a thing. Yet, tooting my own horn still strikes me as an act of humiliation.
I was reassured many times that none of this was so. Eventually, I conceded that I was willing to try it out and see.
Lo and behold, they were right. Nothing remotely resembling my fantasies has happened on any of the podcasts I’ve done so far. In fact, quite the opposite, I’m happy to say: I get an opportunity to talk about my work and my thoughts to an appreciative audience. I have been matched up with interviewers who are on the same page as I and who are interested in what I have to say. That was a more than delightful surprise.
I have been approached by some very lovely human beings with podcasts about a range of valuable topics: mindfulness, gratitude, addiction, and vulnerability, just to name a few. They’re all kind, reasonable people who share a common desire with me, which is to help people feel better about themselves and embrace the idea that change is possible.
I am now much more comfortable with this platform for talking about my work. The first interviews will be coming out soon, and I will even share them here so my readers can easily find them.
If all I have to do on a podcast is chat intelligently about what I do and what I write—slathering the conversation with love and light—why the heck not do it?
Who figured this would happen?
Old dogs, new tricks might apply to some of you, but I’m here to tell the tale that even though I’m an old pup, I’m still willing to try something new. Yes, I actually let go of my resistance to podcasts. I was surprised myself.
Then again, with the way I go around telling everyone that change is possible, don’t I also have to be willing to change?