(How to Make More Human and Successful Pitches.)

Now I want to expand beyond pitches to how we interact with everyone we encounter (or want to encounter) in our writing and publishing work. From community involvement and collaborations to marketing and reader engagement, a human approach based on authenticity and generosity leads to better results … and is a lot more enjoyable.

Connect With Individuals, Not Audiences

Technology can make our author lives easier, but they can distance us from the people we want to reach. Automated social media scheduling tools and templated newsletters may save time, but efficient processes can lead to lackluster content and can dull our authentic voice.

When listeners of The Indy Author Podcast decide to support me via one of my patronage platforms, the thank you I send is very similar from patron to patron, and it’s tempting to write that message once and use it every time. But writing out the message fresh to each new patron ensures an authenticity I wouldn’t achieve with a generic message.

I’ve even switched away from pointing listeners to my website Contact page if they want to get in touch and instead provide my email address. (Anyone who tries out the firstname@domain.com standard could easily figure it out.) This removes a point of friction of connecting with an individual fan or follower.

Automations and standard operating procedures can be useful tools, but they should be used in the service of authentic communications, not as a substitute for it. When we communicate with individuals, we should treat them as individuals.

Ask yourself: Does this sound like me—or like everyone else?

Treat Connection With Generosity, Not as a Zero-Sum Game

If you’re approaching your author career as a business rather than a hobby, then you will have practical, goal-oriented reasons for reaching out to writing and publishing colleagues: to obtain a blurb for your book, to land a speaking opportunity at a genre reader conference, to connect with a librarian or bookseller. But approaching such transactions with a “What can I get?” mindset eliminates practical benefits you might otherwise gain. It makes the interaction transactional, where even a one-time “win” devalues the potential of a connection.

Instead, ask yourself “What value can I provide?” That will smooth the way to success in that transaction but, more importantly, it paves the way to a long-term connection that will benefit both parties.

For example, I have recommended colleagues as writers for publications and platforms that offer a limited number of slots, which means that every successful recommendation reduces my own chances of landing one of those slots. But for every recommended colleague whose work I’ve seen on that platform, I’ve been paid back handsomely: They’ve promoted my work, notified me of opportunities, and introduced me to other professionals whose connections have proven valuable to me.

Find ways to provide value. When a podcaster hosts you on their show, promote their work in return. When you ask another author for a blurb, read and share their books.

Ask yourself: What relationships in my professional life could become more productive if I offered value first?

Humanize Your Marketing

It’s easy to fall into the trap of treating readers or followers as data points: email opens, link clicks, conversions. But people aren’t metrics; they’re individuals who choose to let you into their lives. A more human approach to marketing focuses less on selling and more on connecting.

I used to use a social media posting tool that enabled me to post the same content on multiple platforms, but it prevented me from optimizing the content for each platform’s audience, and I wasn’t checking in on most of the platforms to see how that audience was responding. Now I’m focusing on one platform, where I actually interact with the people who are responding to my posts.

In what other ways can we humanize our marketing? Respond personally to messages, spotlight another author whose work your readers would love, or simply write your newsletter in the same conversational tone you’d use with a friend.

Ask yourself: How can my marketing sound more like a conversation and less like a campaign?

Choose Human Connection Over Scale

We’re often told to grow our followings, build our platforms, and scale our reach—but sometimes, smaller is stronger. A few hundred engaged subscribers who feel seen and valued will do more for your long-term success than tens of thousands of passive followers.

I’m frequently a guest on others’ podcasts, and the extent of that outreach is almost always more closely tied to the quality of the engagement of the host’s followers rather than with the number of followers.

Especially when you’re starting out, don’t design your processes for connecting with your colleagues to accommodate a network that’s substantially bigger than the one you currently have. You’re more likely to create barriers than efficiencies.

Whether you’re running a newsletter, a podcast, or a reader group, prioritize depth over breadth. The time you spend doing this builds loyalty and trust that no algorithm can replicate.

Ask yourself: Where could I trade quantity for quality in the way I connect with others?

The Human Advantage

In a world that’s increasingly automated and genericized by reliance on AI, your humanity is your differentiator: the warmth of a sincere message, the generosity of a thoughtful recommendation, the curiosity of a genuine question. Lead with empathy, authenticity, and reciprocity in every interaction. It’s the surest way to build not only a successful author career, but a meaningful one.

The post How to Make Human (and Successful) Connections appeared first on Writer's Digest.

(Successful Query Letter Examples for Writers.)

Here’s an excerpt from one I received offering marketing services for one of my Lizzy Ballard Thrillers:

What struck me most was Lizzy’s fierce desire for a normal life even as she’s pulled into a deadly game she can’t escape. Her struggle between love, survival, and responsibility felt raw and resonant. The confrontation with Billy Chapel not only raised the stakes but also underscored the haunting consequences of wielding unwanted power.

A couple of years ago, that pitch would have grabbed my attention. But now, faux personalized emails like this are only too easy to produce using AI, probably based on a pirated copy of my book.

My gripe isn’t with AI-generated content per se, but with the fact that AI enables this type of content to be generated at a huge scale, and the seemingly highly personalized promise of the outreach is not always (almost never) matched by highly personalized (or any) delivery on the back end.

This situation poses two challenges for writers.

First, how do we protect ourselves—our time, our energy, and our money—as recipients of emails from the bad players?

There are two easily spotted red flags for mass-produced outreach emails. One is the use of a Gmail address rather than an email from a business domain such as matty@mattydalrymple.com. Another is a lack of any way to contact them other than to reply to their email, and no way to research their credentials—for example, no website listed. If you find those two markers, stop reading that email and relegate it to Junk.

Still unsure? Use AI for good by putting the email into ChatGPT with a prompt like this: Analyze the following email and tell me whether it shows signs of spam, scams, or phishing attempts. Point out specific red flags, such as mismatched sender addresses, unusual language patterns, fake urgency, or suspicious links.

If the email includes images, a logo, or an elaborate footer, save it as a PDF and attach it so the AI can review the entire message.

You can also protect yourself by actively seeking the services you need rather than being a passive recipient of pitches for services you might never need. Need a professional marketer? Go to a vetted listing, like the Alliance of Independent Authors Partner Member Directory (available to ALLi Members), or check a reputable marketplace like Reedsy (https://reedsy.com/). Check sources like Writer Beware (https://writerbeware.blog/) for exposés of bad players.

Ultimately, as long as we can keep our heads and not our hearts in charge of these decisions, avoiding being taken advantage of by these bad players should be relatively easy. Don’t let a false sense of urgency steer your decisions for your writing and publishing career.

Second, how do we pivot as well-meaning senders of emails?

This is perhaps the bigger challenge. As writers, we’re not just recipients of pitches; often we are the ones doing the pitching. We pitch ourselves to podcast hosts seeking guest appearances to promote our books, approach event organizers with speaking proposals, send our books to reviewers for consideration, and suggest guest posts to bloggers for their sites. In fact, some of us offer exactly the type of service for which mass-mail marketers are now generating the faux personalized emails.

Let’s take the example of pitching ourselves as a guest for podcasts targeting readers of our book’s genre. In the past, my advice as a podcast host was for authors seeking guest appearances to craft boilerplate for the information that would be common from pitch to pitch (you don’t need to write a new bio every time you send out a pitch). The emails should be sent from a branded domain (not Gmail) and should include plenty of links to their website, social media platforms, and other pertinent online information both to make it easy for the prospective host to assess their pitch as well as to establish credibility and professionalism.

Most importantly, I advised these authors to familiarize themselves with the podcaster’s platform before pitching by listening to at least a couple of episodes and to reflect this familiarity in their pitch—I especially appreciated your recent conversation with <author X>, since the information they shared about <topic Y> addressed a challenge I’ve been facing in my own books—with the X and Y to be filled in based on the sender’s personal experience.

I myself used this strategy for all kinds of outreach. But now I’m rethinking my approach, because as the volume of AI-generated pitches grows, recipients are more likely to dismiss the genuine, thoughtful, personal outreach along with the spam.

So if the quantity-over-quality purveyors have ruined email outreach for us, what’s left?

What’s left is the human touch. In this evolving environment, personal connections mean more than ever. And the best way of finding these personal connections is to be active members of our writing and publishing communities.

An example of a community that has proven invaluable for me is Sisters in Crime—both the national organization and my local chapter, Delaware Valley. I can trace many of the opportunities I’ve enjoyed back to that community. I’ve guested on podcasts hosted by my fellow Sisters (and Misters), I’ve presented to SinC national and local chapters, I’ve had my books reviewed by some fellow members and been able to spread the word about my work by providing guest blog posts for the websites of others.

If the people who accepted my pitches are anything like me, then the personal relationship I have with them was a key part of the success of my pitch. I advise authors looking for podcast guest appearances to avoid use of third-party services that serve as matchmakers between prospective guests and podcast hosts. Even reputable services introduce a layer between you and the person you want to connect with, making the forging of that human relationship more challenging.

When I’m assessing pitches for The Indy Author Podcast, I set a higher bar for guests being pitched by a third party than I do for guests who are connecting with me directly, because direct contact gives me a better idea of whether that person will be a good match for the show. Of the last 100 episodes of The Indy Author Podcast, only 11 of the guest placements were the result of a cold-call pitch. I filled the other 89 slots with former guests I was eager to talk with again, with recommendations from those guests, with experts I had heard speak at author events, and with other people I had met through my writing and publishing communities.

And the opportunities provided by these connections aren’t “one and done”; each connection has opened others. A connection with one fellow Sister in Crime led to an introduction that paved the way to my participation in a cross-promotion involving a dozen well-known thriller authors.

So after you have cleaned the day’s influx of faux personalized emails out of your inbox, what can you do to start building the community that will take the place of email outreach? Stay tuned for Part 2, “How to Make More Human (and Successful) Connections”!

The post How to Make More Human (and Successful) Pitches appeared first on Writer's Digest.

When we think about writing a story, especially in genres like mystery and thriller, our instinct is to begin with the protagonist. We picture their strengths, flaws, and motivations, carefully crafting the character we’ll spend months, or even years, developing. Louise Penny no doubt delved deep into the character of Chief Inspector Armand Gamache—not only his moral integrity but also his love of literature and poetry—before embarking on her beloved series. Lee Child no doubt had a clear sense of Jack Reacher—his defense of the underdog as well as his obsession with coffee—before embarking on that series. 

Knowing our protagonists inside and out is crucial, not only for crafting their journey but also for engaging readers. We need to give our protagonists agency, not allowing them merely to be buffeted by the events of the story or by the other characters. We need to ensure that, in the end, the protagonist is the master of their own fate.  

But what if we flipped that perspective? What if, instead of starting with our hero, we began with the villain? In an issue focused on confounding expectations, it’s worth exploring how shifting the narrative lens can lead to more engaging and dynamic storytelling. 

THE CASE FOR STARTING WITH THE VILLAIN 

Focusing exclusively on the protagonist can lead to plot challenges, especially in mysteries and thrillers. In these genres, the protagonist’s actions are often a reaction to the antagonist’s schemes. Gamache won’t investigate a crime that hasn’t been committed; Reacher won’t intervene unless he stumbles upon someone being mistreated by a bad player. 

To construct a seamless and believable plot, we must acknowledge that, in many cases, the protagonist is the victim of circumstances created by the villain. Starting the construction of your story from the villain’s perspective ensures that the events the protagonist faces are logical and coherent, avoiding the need to retrofit the antagonist’s actions to match the protagonist’s responses. 

For instance, starting a mystery solely from the sleuth’s perspective can lead to narrative pitfalls. In my Ann Kinnear Suspense Novel The Falcon and the Owl, if I had plotted Ann’s actions without first understanding the murderer’s motives and methods, the story would have felt contrived. I might have wanted Ann to explore a hangar at a small general aviation airport where she stumbles upon evidence that implicates airshow pilot Gwen Burridge. But without knowing what crime occurred in the hangar or how it tied into Gwen’s actions, I would have struggled to devise credible evidence for Ann to find. Instead of guiding the narrative naturally, I’d be forcing elements into place, which could lead to implausible scenarios that break the reader’s suspension of disbelief.  

Instead, I mapped out the villain’s actions first: 

Bryan is working in a hangar when the airport’s owner, Hal arrives, drunk and angry. Hal accuses Bryan of having an affair with Hal’s wife, Gwen, and attacks Bryan. In the ensuing scuffle, Bryan hits Hal in the head with a tool from his workbench, and Hal falls to the ground, unresponsive. Gwen arrives, and she and Bryan perform CPR, but to no avail. They decide that Bryan will fly Hal’s body to a remote area of the Pennsylvania Wilds and bury it. They load Hal’s body into Bryan’s plane. 

(This isn’t too much of a spoiler because this scene occurs “on-screen” in the first dozen pages.) 

With this scenario established, I don’t have to guess what Ann encounters in the hangar or what directs her suspicions toward Gwen. Because I know that the blow to Hal’s head didn’t break the skin, Ann isn’t going to find blood on the floor. Because I know that the tool used in the attack is part of a set and that Bryan and Gwen decide that removing it from the hangar might raise suspicions, I know that the murder weapon will still be in the hangar. Because a beer bottle was knocked over during the altercation and that Bryan swept up the glass as he and Gwen covered their tracks, it’s unlikely Ann will see broken glass on the floor but possible that she might see a stray shard under the workbench. 

By understanding the villain’s actions first, I can ensure that each clue Ann uncovers feels logical and cohesive, grounding the mystery in a believable progression. 

Especially in mysteries, starting with the villain’s actions allows you to weave in clues and red herrings more effectively, as you have a clear understanding of what the villain did and didn’t do, knows or doesn’t know, at each stage of the story.  

By first understanding the actions your villain takes, the protagonist’s actions and discoveries flow naturally from that groundwork, ensuring that they respond in ways that feel organic and authentic. The villain becomes the engine driving the plot forward, and the protagonist’s actions become meaningful responses to the villain’s moves, creating a dynamic interplay that keeps readers engaged. 

Starting with the villain’s perspective allows you to plot a tight, cohesive story, but it also forces you to think deeply about your antagonist as a character, ensuring that they are as engaging as your protagonist. 

CRAFTING AN EMPATHETIC VILLAIN 

One of my favorite villains in my own work is Louise Mortensen, a doctor whose experiments on Lizzy Ballard’s mother, disguised as fertility treatments, led to Lizzy’s extraordinary abilities. Initially, Louise was merely a plot device to explain Lizzy’s powers, but as I spent more time developing her character, she grew into a fully realized and complex figure. 

Louise is a villain because she believes that the ends justify the means, but her goals make her more empathetic. She’s not seeking personal fame or fortune; she’s driven by a desire to advance science. While she does employ henchmen for unsavory tasks, she’s not above doing the dirty work herself, especially when necessary for her goals. However, she never inflicts harm unless she believes it’s unavoidable, as illustrated in this exchange with one of Lizzy’s allies whom she’s holding hostage: 

As Louise tightened the bindings, he asked, “Why did you do this? Bringing me the tape to splint my fingers. Letting me use the bathroom.” 

“Because,” Louise said, “not doing so served no purpose.” 

CREATING A WORTHY ADVERSARY 

A great villain must be a worthy adversary for your protagonist. If they are weak or shallow, the hero’s victory will feel inevitable and unearned. If the villain lacks depth, you may have to weaken the hero to maintain balance, which can dull the narrative. 

Instead, ensure your villain has clear motivations, a backstory, and a moral code, preventing them from becoming mere caricatures. This will enrich your story and make your villain a formidable obstacle for your protagonist. 

In fact, Louise became so compelling to me that she earned her own book, Kill Box Checkmate. But even if a villain doesn’t become the focus of a standalone work, treating them as “the hero of their own story” will make them more fascinating and intensify the conflict for your protagonist. 

PROVIDING A FOIL FOR THE HERO 

Starting with the villain’s perspective not only strengthens the plot but also allows for a deeper exploration of your protagonist’s character and motivations. The protagonist is not merely solving puzzles or reacting to events but is engaged in a complex dance with the antagonist, where each move and countermove ratchets up the tension.  

For instance, even if Ann didn’t suspect Gwen Burridge of involvement in Hal’s death, their fundamental differences would still place them at odds. Both women, as leaders in their respective fields, have contrasting views on professionalism: 

“I don’t know why you’re unhappy about someone setting up a YouTube channel about you,” said Gwen. “It shows that your fans appreciate you. You’re a public figure, you owe the public a good show.” 

“I’m a professional, not a performer,” said Ann. “I have clients, not an audience.” 

“We’re all performers for an audience, some of us are just more comfortable with it than others.” 

Gwen’s profession and her philosophy about public visibility underscore the tension between her and Ann. Had Gwen been a corporate CEO or a reclusive artist, the nature of their conflict would have shifted dramatically. Their professional values and how they see their roles in the world serve as a central source of their friction, driving the emotional stakes of the story. 

THE BALANCE OF CONTROL 

As we’ve discussed, the villain’s actions often catalyze the story, but the protagonist must ultimately be the agent of resolution. For example, in Lee Child’s Jack Reacher novels, Reacher typically stumbles into situations created by the villain. He doesn’t actively seek out wrongs to right; instead, he reacts to injustices that come his way. However, it’s his sense of justice and morality that dictates his responses, and his decisions and actions are what drive the narrative to its conclusion. 

Similarly, while Louise Mortensen’s actions are continually upending Lizzy Ballard’s desire for a normal life, it’s Lizzy’s decisions about how to deal with Louise’s interference that shape the course of the story. In fact, as Lizzy matures over the series (starting quite young in the first book), the dynamic shifts—Louise increasingly finds herself reacting to Lizzy’s growing agency and strength. This evolution highlights Lizzy’s transformation from reactive to proactive, a key indicator of her character growth and the story’s progression.  

APPLYING THIS APPROACH TO OTHER GENRES 

While this method is particularly effective in mysteries and thrillers, it can be adapted to other genres as well. In any story where the protagonist faces external obstacles, understanding the source of those obstacles can help you create a more coherent narrative. 

In fantasy, for example, the villain might be a dark sorcerer whose quest for power threatens the protagonist’s world. Understanding the sorcerer’s goals and the steps they take to achieve them will help you create a plot that feels epic and inevitable. 

In horror, a well-developed villain transcends typical scare tactics, adding depth and psychological tension to the story. Consider how Psycho would lose its impact without the unnerving complexity of Norman Bates, or how Misery gains its terrifying edge through Annie Wilkes’ fully realized personality, making her unpredictability all the more frightening. These richly crafted villains amplify the stakes, as their personal motives make the danger to the protagonist feel more immediate and unsettling. 

In some genres, the antagonist might not even be a character in the traditional sense. In romance, for instance, the “villain” could take the form of societal pressures that keep the lovers apart. By exploring these obstacles in depth—understanding how external factors or internal flaws affect the protagonists—you can craft a love story that feels authentic and emotionally resonant. This approach allows the “villain” to be just as impactful, even if it is not a person but a circumstance or barrier. 

CONFOUNDING EXPECTATIONS: CRAFTING STORIES THAT CAPTIVATE 

Shifting focus from the protagonist to the villain in the early stages of constructing your story can revolutionize your plotting and character development processes. It prevents awkward narrative adjustments, enriches your antagonist’s character, and ensures that your story remains tight and compelling from start to finish. By balancing the perspectives of both the protagonist and the antagonist, you create a narrative where each character’s actions feel authentic and impactful, driving the story forward in a way that keeps readers hooked until the very last page. 

So, as you sit down to plot your next novel, consider confounding your own expectations. Don’t ask yourself what your protagonist will do—ask what your villain has already done, and what they will do next. Embrace the unexpected, and your readers will, too. 

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