Among the many gems dished out in his 1936 seminal self-improvement treatise How To Win Friends And Influence People, Dale Carnegie gave this counsel to those seeking success: “To be interesting, be interested.”
Pretty sage advice from almost 90 years ago, when drumming up high-profile customers and publicity depended mostly on pounding pavement and vying for the attention of the tastemakers of the time. Getting a newspaper to print your name or a movie star to endorse your product was the pinnacle of cultural clout and would send sales soaring, and you had to court such opportunities with flattery and free stuff: Why yes, Rita Hayworth, your beauty knows no bounds, and might you look even sexier smoking these Chesterfield cigarettes?
I’ve been employing this old school approach for promoting the new book, sending off previews to local media and other VISPs (Very Important Savannah People) along with letters lauding their talents and good taste. I’m banking on the idea that they might spread the word about The Camellia Thief and inspire others to click the links and flock to the bookstores to purchase it. If that doesn’t work, I am preparing a kicky song and dance to perform on the steps of City Hall, and possibly parading around town with a sandwich board.
A younger, smarter friend suggested that a more effective approach might be to reach out to the area’s top social media influencers, who have far more sway than the Hedda Hoppers of the day. An astounding 93% of marketers report contracting with influencers to peddle their brands, and trend watchers expect the influencer industry to suck up $16.4 billion in 2023. Very compelling, though ya gotta wonder what the earnest Carnegie would have to say about the platforms’ penchant for scarfing Tide pods and snorting tanning lotion.
Then again, our dear Dale also admonished “if you want to be enthusiastic, act enthusiastic,” so I feel sure he’d be TikTok dancing like a mofo. When my marketing maven pal compiled a short list of #Savannah-related Instagram accounts with 10,000 or more followers, I carefully crafted DMs complimenting their color-coordinated grids and offered to send over a copy of the book, or as many seem to prefer these days, key excerpts in meme format.
That is when I learned that one does not need to be interesting to garner the vaunted endorsement of our most renowned local influencers. Or interested, for that matter. Nope, it only takes one simple thing for these powerful cultural commentators to glow you up to their audiences: Cold, hard cash. (Well, they also accept Venmo. And sometimes crypto, but “cold, hard Bitcoin” is not a thing.)
Call me naive, but my little enthusiastic heart was crushed to find out that at least several of top Savannah IGs are basic pay-to-play schemes, anywhere from $75 for a single post to $1000 monthly retainers for stories and videos fawning over whatever bridesmaids’ barf circus has it as a budget line item. No curation, no institutional knowledge about the city—just automated grids sporting captions like Who’s up for bottomless mimosas?! or Perfect evening for a pub crawl [zombie emoji]. I hold strong suspicions that one account with over 60,000 followers is run by Estonian chatbots. A delightful exception is the sassy meme genius behind @SavannahCityOf (14.2K+ followers), who obviously mainlines pollen and woo-woo girl tears on the regular.
Listen, I get it; this is how business works now, and paying for social media mentions is no different from the traditional advertising of yore. But I still believe in the value of editorial discernment, and maybe others do, too: There’s evidence that influencer marketing is waning as folks get wise to fake testimonials, poor customer experience ratings, and the plain silliness of it all.
“De-influencing” has propelled a new cycle of truth telling, and even social media managers have had it with influencer culture. When former You’re Welcome Savannah blogger and dog foster mom Autumn Van Gunten launched Socially Yours a decade ago, she learned quickly to caution her clients to be wary of such transactional promotions.
“When I started putting money into paid ad management, I noticed organic traffic dropped,” recalls Autumn, who no longer uses any influencer marketing for the brands she supervises, advising instead the cultivation of a social media presence that resonates with our longing for credibility.
While pretty ladies hawking snail slime face cream may continue to dominate our For You pages, the smartest marketers understand sales are driven by trust and genuine engagement, another old tenet from our man Carnegie. Fakers are so easy to spot, and winning social media followers doesn’t have to mean paying big bucks.
“We can be our own biggest influencers, just by being authentic,” encourages Autumn.
Frankly, I’d be a terrible Savannah influencer. I’m not capable of taking an attractive picture while eating, for instance, and there isn’t enough money in the world to sell my soul-cial capital. Anyway, I would just use my influence to get people to vote the fascists out of office and spend all their money on local music and art.
Speaking of which: The massive SLAM local artists’ market fills up the Salvation Army field near Daffin Park this Saturday, April 22 with original paintings, textiles, sculptures, and delightful weirdness for you to curate your home with some Savannah authenticity. Also, the bad b’s of Lulu the Giant are once again hosting the family-friendly, totally free Undergo Festival all weekend, featuring an all-local line-up of fabulous noisemakers and stupendous creatives that will light up the end of East Gwinnett like a dancing gloworm.
As far as the big time influencers go, I’m not saying at some point I won’t end up forking over some dollars to get my book in front of 60,000 eyeballs. But for now I’m content to keep wading around in my warm market, trying to pique interest the old-fashioned way by remaining interested in this city and the people who live here. It seems to be working—The Savannah Morning News ran a lovely piece this week written by soon-to-be-former entertainment editor Zach Dennis, who will be greatly missed as he steps up and out to a bigger news desk in Raleigh, NC. I also snagged a guffaw-filled six minutes on the latest episode of Eat It and Like It with top Savannah influencer Jesse Blanco and didn’t even have to pay him, but I’ll definitely buy him a drink next time we see each other at Sea Wolf.
It seems like everyone’s their own brand these days, and all of us have something to sell and goals to achieve. I bet Dale Carnegie knew that would happen, and he tempers society’s quest for accomplishment by admonishing that “Success is getting what you want; happiness is wanting what you get.”
I’m not exactly sure how many sold copies of The Camellia Thief & Other Tales it will take to feel successful. But as I set out on another perfect spring day in Savannah to pound the pavement, I’m pretty sure I’ve already won.
Hey, if you’re reading this, you’re a VISP to me ~ JLL
Bad Azzzzzzzzz Beast Mode Chick 24/7🫵🏻🔥💎✍🏼🏆🫵🏻🙌🏼😍🫢🫅🏽🫀🤝🧠🥰🙏🏽
Dude! I’m VISPy?! Yay🙌 Every word soooo truuuu. But also consider, when/if u want, @savannahcityof . Dk if u follow that silly savh soul, but they post some fun & funny stuff. I’m gonna guess that their followers may enjoy ur creativity & sense of humor. Maybe not the perfect avenue of influence but one to consider. Also w ur clever wonderful writing, who are some of the bestest BOOK influencers? Idk just thinking out loud w my thumbs. Hugs!