Poets, We Need to Talk About Self-Promotion

Why asking for support feels harder than writing the book

Dear Friends,

It took me approximately five weeks to build up the confidence to write Tuesday’s post about preorders. Just ask my friend Sarah, who heard me whine, postpone, and second-guess a half dozen versions of that post.

The post is hardly a work of art—which got me thinking about confidence, self-promotion, and poetry.

(Here I am, bravely falling backwards into a ball pit.)

I wondered whether poets might simply not be wired for self-promotion. If it might be possible that the “poetry gene” is antithetical to the “promo” one. That would honestly be great, because then I’d be off the hook. I could leave promotion to the prose writers and not feel like I was shortchanging a step of the process.

So, I read The Confidence Code by Claire Shipman and Katty Kay to better understand the science behind confidence.

Before I share what most helped me from the book, I want to give you my thesis upfront:

Poets aren’t bad at self-promotion because we’re inherently humble, shy, and allergic to marketing, but because the habits that sustain poetry have very little to do with the habits required to promote it. In fact, the skills we cultivate by writing the poem—attention, interiority, precision—have almost nothing to do with the work required to share it. Promotion can feel like an assault on the inner world by the outer one.

Here’s what I learned, and how I think it applies to poetry:

1. Confidence Comes From Taking Action

Gene structure isn’t determinative for confidence. Period.

There are fascinating chapters in the book about genetic predispositions for confidence, but the reality is that nurture—and what I’d call self-nurture—matters far more.

So, what does this mean for poets?

Poetry requires contemplation, going inward, and painstaking revision. Promotion requires visibility, frequency, and risk-taking.

Simply put: the skills we hone for our craft are not the skills that we’re rewarded for when it comes time to actually share that work, or even just move it from our draft files to Substack.

You cannot workshop, 1:1, or Submittable your way into talking about your book. You also can’t work your way up to longterm confidence without actually acting from a place of feeling less than confident.

Confidence comes from a combination of risk and resilience, not by ruminating and self-critique.

I didn’t get more confident during the five weeks I agonized over sending a post about preorders. I only experienced confidence after sending it, watching 75 people unsubscribe—which made me anxious for a few minutes—then showing up again two days later (today) to talk about confidence.

2. The Myth of the “True” Poet

We’re all familiar with a certain mythos around the “true” artist who is so pure, she doesn’t care at all about sales or self-promotion. In that paradigm, promotion is “selling out” and misses the true goal of poetry.

What I’ve noticed is that this belief often comes from the same constituency who lament that the country is illiterate, that poetry is undervalued, and that writers “shouldn’t have to” promote their own books.

See the problem?

We create a culture of shame around ambition or outreach while simultaneously disparaging readers—or potential readers—for not choosing us.

As always, I want us to look at these thinking traps with compassion. I am not telling you to feel different, but inviting you to understand why you feel the way you do, and to encourage you to choose a more empowering story, one that puts your considerable power back in your hands.

Most poets don’t earn meaningful income from books, and that’s ok. Most poets don’t write for the promise of financial renumeration.

Despite selling thousands of copies, I have never earned royalties on American Faith (2019), and my advance was a few hundred dollars. My goal has never been to live off of book sales, and I am completely at ease with this.

Is my goal to connect with larger audiences? Yes. Is it to have If You Love That Lady reach more readers and libraries? Yes. So: what can I do in service of that goal?

Write a post about preorders.

That’s my thinking formula. And I mention the financials of poetry simply because, I suspect, they help explain why self-promotion can feel like labor without payoff. And I think we might benefit from resetting our expectation of what promotion means and what it’s good for. Not for a paycheck or a bottomline, but for reaching readers who might enjoy our work and deepening engagement with our community.

3. Fear of Judgment From Peers

This is my brand of block, 1000%.

Each time I send out a newsletter about my own writing, I am haunted by the thought of strangers rolling their eyes and unsubscribing. I am worried that people will think that I am hungry for attention, self-absorbed, or that I must think I’m so great to be talking about my own writing.

The reality is that promoting my books or my writing community means tolerating discomfort almost daily. I’ve realized I may never be fully comfortable with promotion. I may always fear what others will think.

If I’ve learned anything, though, it’s that discomfort cannot be avoided. There is as much discomfort in not speaking up and not sharing my poetry as there is in being visible and advocating for my work or teaching. And I often experience a sense of pride on the other side of doing something I find uncomfortable.

So, it’s clear to me which one I choose.

So, What Do We Do?

“Confidence is the stuff that turns thoughts into action,” write Shipman and Kay.

After I finished the book, I felt a renewed sense of momentum around simply acting, even in the face of unease. I was reminded how fundamentally normal rumination is, and how I can only choose whether or not to take it seriously.

So, if you also have a book forthcoming, I want to invite you to practice saying, My book is coming out, and I’d love it if you would consider preordering. Even if it feels counterintuitive, awkward, or pushy to let people know that a thing you wrote for yourself, and for them, is about to enter the world.

Normalize the discomfort. Stop waiting to feel ready. You may never feel entirely good about this part of the writing journey, and that’s ok. You can still take action: announce the class, share your recent publication, post the preorder link even if your brain tries to keep you “safe” by discouraging the actions that support your goals. You can withstand a few minutes of discomfort in service of your long-term vision and in integrity with your aspirations.

Now, I am genuinely asking you to reply in the comments below, because it will help inspire me too—

What is one confidence-requiring action you can take this week to support your own work?

Let me know.

Love,
xM