Digital Marketing for Creatives

I’ve been doing this a long time. Talking into mics. Sweating in my office/studio. Convincing myself that if I just willed my writing into the universe, people would magically find it. Spoiler alert: They don’t. They’re busy. They’re scrolling past your life’s work to look at a guy putting guacamole on a hot dog.

Here’s the thing that took me way too many years and a lot of coffee to figure out: Selling your stuff doesn’t have to feel like selling your soul.

But you can’t just fling your painting, or your novel, or your indie folk album into the void and hope for a handshake from God. You need a structure. A system. I know, I know. “System” sounds like corporate hell. Like you need a beige cubicle and a Salesforce login. But listen to me. The right system isn’t a cage. It’s the rails that keep your train from flying into a ditch while you’re busy actually creating.

And the secret ingredient? Human engagement. Not “engagement” as in the metric. Engagement as in looking someone in the eye (through a screen, whatever) and remembering they’re a person with feelings. That’s the key to selling. Always was. Always will be.

So I wrote a book. It’s called Digital Marketing for Creatives, and it’s a one-stop shop for every broke, brilliant artist, author, and creative who’s tired of the hustle-culture grift.

Let me break down why it works. Three things.

1. Find Your Audience (No, Not Everyone)

We all want to believe our work is for “everyone.” It’s not. Your abstract ceramic goat sculpture is not for a NASCAR fan in Ohio who only drinks Bud Light. And that’s fine. This book beats you over the head (kindly) with the idea that you have to find your people. Not a million people. Your people. The 1,000 true fans who will buy your weird thing, tell their friends, and defend you on Reddit. Stop shouting into the ocean. Find the pond. Swim there.

2. Buyer Personas Are Not Stupid (Even Though You Think They Are)

I rolled my eyes at “buyer persona” for a decade. I thought it was marketing-bro language. But the book reframes it as: Who are you actually talking to? Not a demographic. A human. What keeps them up at night? What makes them laugh? If your art could hold their hand, when would it do it? Once you realise a persona is just a fancy way of saying “my ideal listener,” it becomes less creepy and more like… empathy. And empathy sells.

3. Engaging Content (That Doesn’t Make You Hate Yourself)

Here’s where most creatives die. They think “engaging content” means a TikTok dance or a 45-minute unboxing video. No. The book argues (correctly) that engaging content is just showing the work. The struggle. The sketch. The deleted scene. The half-finished verse. You don’t need a content calendar from hell. You need a few honest posts that say, “Hey, I made this because I had to. Maybe you need it too.”

And that’s the magic of this book. It’s a one-stop shop because it doesn’t make you choose between making and marketing. Most marketing books for artists are written by people who have never stared at a blank page until their eyes bled. It’s a system that maximizes your sales without maximizing your burnout. Because losing three hours to Instagram Reels is three hours you could’ve been in the goddamn studio.

So look. You’re a creative. You don’t want to be a salesman. I get it. Me neither. But you want to eat. You want your work to land. You want to connect. You want to be seen. So…

Get the book. Build the system. Talk to humans. Sell your stuff. Now, go make something.