Photo by Trevor Gerzen on Unsplash

Today’s post is by author Debbie Friedman.

On the last day of January, three years after I began writing my memoir, I sat at my computer and stared at the KDP dashboard. My hands were shaking. I took a deep breath and hit PUBLISH. I expected relief. Instead, I felt panic. What if my cheerleaders had been wrong? What if the book wasn’t any good?

The next morning my hybrid memoir, Guarded: Women, Water, and Saving Lives, was live on Amazon. Then I had a second realization: no one knew my book was finally available.

I spent three years bringing Guarded to life. I had never written a book. Every time I read something about lifeguards, especially “the female lifeguards,” I cringed. The few sentences that did exist were written by men. As one of California’s first women ocean lifeguards in the 1970s and 1980s, I wanted our stories to be told.

I spent the first year researching, interviewing lifeguards, and organizing decades of history. Then I spent two years writing and revising.

I didn’t spend much time thinking about what would happen after publication.

By June, I’d sold more than 1,000 copies as a first-time, self-published author. I didn’t follow a master marketing plan. Instead, I kept asking one question: What’s the next thing I can do that puts this book in front of readers?

Here are five things that worked for me.

1. I talked to readers while I was writing.

I had remained in the lifeguard community. I married a guard and my children grew up in Junior Lifeguards and had worked seasonal lifeguards. As word spread that I was writing a book, I was asked to lead two different panels about women and lifeguarding. Before publication, I also spoke to a gathering of nearly 400 lifeguards. I was introduced simply as, “Debbie Friedman, who’s writing the book about women lifeguards.”

The Lifeguard Project, with more than 14,000 Instagram followers worldwide, interviewed me for a one-hour podcast before publication. When Guarded launched, I announced it on Facebook and Instagram. Once I learned to make those posts public, lifeguard organizations shared them with their much larger audiences, introducing the book to thousands of people I could never have reached on my own.

I also mailed thank-you copies to people who appeared in the book or had gone far beyond what I expected to help me. Many became my first readers and first Amazon reviewers.

2. I spent money strategically.

I’m frugal by nature, but when the learning curve was too steep, I hired help. After publication, everyone that helped me with the book remains available for hire or consultation. This has been invaluable when I need PDF copies, high-res pictures, ebook, and consultations. A local website designer made a simple site for me. She responds in minutes when I ask for a change and bills in increments, not hours. The editors I worked with, Sarah Chauncey and Jacqueline Salmon, remain available to answer questions and offer encouragement.

This might be my first rodeo, but it is not theirs.

A month after publication, my daughter offered to host a small open house for family and friends to celebrate my book. As the RSVPs continued to grow—and neither my house or bathroom were up for the crowd—we moved the party to a local community center (I paid). Nearly one hundred people gathered.

It became a reunion with photographs, lifeguard memorabilia, rescue equipment, food, music, and memories. People left with books in their arms, food in their tummies, and lots of energy to tell others about my book.

3. I talked to everyone about the book.

I printed simple business cards with my book title and contact information and handed them out generously. It felt more personal than sending someone a link, and not everyone I met was ready (or wanted) to buy a book online.

Almost everyone said some version of, “I know someone who would enjoy this book,” and many bought additional copies as gifts. A former editor of Surfer Magazine was given one of those copies. He called me and said, “I can’t believe this book has not been written before.” He is now organizing a featured author event for me at the California Surf Museum.

I gave a copy to my dermatologist and dog-eared the page where my friends and I lay in the sun covered in baby oil. She took off her mask and laughed. I suspect our future relationship will be a little friendlier.

4. I learned not to pigeonhole my book.

I assumed Guarded would mostly be read by friends and lifeguards. Instead, many of my readers are women who remember the gender challenges of growing up in the 1970s and 1980s. Men tell me the book reminds them of surfing, vans, and life along Pacific Coast Highway. Some lower their heads, look to the ground and say, “I didn’t know it was like this for you girls.”

The comment I hear most is, “I didn’t expect it to be so funny.”

I’m learning to talk less and listen more. Every conversation, note, and review teaches me something new about my own book.

That lesson changed where I spent my time. Without a budget to fly around the country, I stayed close to home and worked hard to build momentum in my own community. I sent press releases, made phone calls, followed leads, and introduced myself to newspapers, radio stations, podcasts, bookstores, book clubs, and community organizations. Some opportunities came because I reached out. Others came because one event led to another.

Bookshop Santa Cruz, one of the country’s most respected independent bookstores, placed Guarded on its bestselling nonfiction paperback table. Every event introduced the book to new readers, and many of those readers introduced it to someone else.

5. I didn’t travel (much).

I made just one promotional trip to Southern California, a seven-hour drive south, during the first five months. Before I ever got in the car, I organized events, media interviews, speaking engagements, and invitations from my desk in Santa Cruz County. I’m planning another trip in August, including a return to San Clemente State Beach as the keynote speaker for the San Onofre Foundation Summer Speaker Series—the same beach where I reported for my first lifeguard shift on Easter Sunday in 1978.

Writing the next chapter

I’m proud of what I’ve built, and I’m touched by the response and feelings readers are sharing. I’m also a little sad that I’ve worked this hard to sell one thousand copies. Not having a publisher, floating out in the big sea alone, has been difficult.

The list of marketing ideas is still longer than the list I’ve completed. My goal isn’t to do everything. It’s to keep building on what has worked and continue to find new readers.

I still ask readers what resonated with them and who they think would enjoy Guarded. Their answers have become my best marketing research. They continue to surprise me and leave me wondering whether I’ve written a book with a loyal niche audience—or one that simply hasn’t reached most of its readers yet.

When I clicked PUBLISH, I thought I was finishing a book. It turned out I was starting another chapter. One I’m still excited to write.