Finding Confidence in Unexpected Places

A few weeks ago, I met a young author who was looking for guidance on making her book more marketable. A neighbor had suggested that I might be able to help.

Still wrestling with “imposter syndrome,” I wasn’t sure what I could offer, but her story intrigued me enough to agree to meet. She had graduated from a local inner-city high school last year and, in an effort to offset some college costs, had written a book of poetry about her life.

Now, if you know me, you know I’m probably the least poetry-inclined person around. So, poetry? What could I possibly contribute? But curiosity got the better of me, and I began to read the copy my neighbor had lent me.

By the third poem, I was transported back to my classroom, surrounded by young people who had been dealt a tough hand, struggling to rise above their circumstances. She was one of them. I knew I had to help. Plus, it didn’t hurt that her writing was genuinely good!

She came over with another neighbor, who could have easily been her agent. This neighbor, who had taken the young author under her wing, was quite vocal in praising the girl’s talent. But she wasn’t a writer, nor a marketer, and didn’t know how to position a book on Amazon. Not that I’m an expert either, but I’ve gathered a fair amount of knowledge on book marketing—even if my own sales don’t always reflect that!

I’m grateful to those who have generously shared their knowledge with me, and I’ve benefited greatly from it. Perhaps I could make a difference for someone else, even in a small way.

The three of us sat down with glasses of iced tea, chatting to get to know each other. Like many from similar backgrounds, the young author was wise beyond her years. I held up her book. The cover was ombre fading from pale green to vibrant yellow, with a flowery, delicate font. A thin-lined image of a young girl took center stage between the title and the author’s name.

“Can I be honest with you?” I asked. (A silly question—what was she going to say, “No, please lie to me?”) She nodded. “This cover has absolutely nothing to do with what’s inside.” I shocked myself with the bluntness of my comment.

She leaned forward, and encouraged by her openness, I continued. “Your writing is about you—your journey of becoming who you are. It’s not flowery; it’s real. Writing the book might have started as a way to unburden yourself, but it’s evolved into something that could help others in similar circumstances. If you want it to sell on Amazon, you need to change the cover and the book description.”

I looked at her. The light bulb moment. We spent the next hour or so talking about cover design, resources to help rewrite her book description, and interior formatting. I actually sounded like I knew what I was talking about. (Goodbye, imposter syndrome!)

We exchanged contact information, and she assured me she’d reach out once she was settled into the school year and had time to rework the book. I hope she does.

In the meantime, I’m reminded that sometimes the most unexpected experiences can reveal our own hidden strengths.