The Email I Almost Didn’t Send

But we can both be glad I did! Remember, the holidays are right in front of us!

Now this might be the perfect marketing email! (generated via prompt)

You know that moment when your finger hovers over the Gmail “Send” button and your brain starts screaming, OMG this is marketing!?

My brain said,

“This sounds desperate.”

“Nobody wants another email from me.”

“I’m annoying people. I’m THAT person now.”

And the kicker:

“Real writers don’t have to beg people to read their work.”

So I did what any self-respecting writer does when paralyzed by marketing shame: I stress-ate half a bag of chips, rewrote the subject line 14 times, and seriously considered just... not sending it.

But nobody tells you when you start writing online that the actual writing is the easy part. It’s what we DO.

Everything after the writing makes you want to fake your own death and start over as a beekeeper in Tasmania.

Because somehow we’re supposed to:

• Build an email list (but not be pushy)

• Sell our work (but not sound sales-y)

• Connect with readers (but not seem needy)

• Promote ourselves (but stay humble and authentic)

It’s like being asked to tap dance while juggling chainsaws. While apologizing for taking up space.

The worst part? That voice in your head whispering: “Marketing is beneath you. Good work should speak for itself.”

Except... it doesn’t. Not anymore. Not in a world where 10,000 new Substacks launch every week, 4 million books are published annually, and everyone’s inbox is a battlefield.

Well, what do we do?

We figure out how to market without feeling like we need a shower afterward or resign ourselves to writing brilliant work for an audience of 17 people (twelve of them related to us by blood).

I finally sent that email, by the way; you’re reading it

And you know what happened so far? Five lovely replies. Two new paid subscribers. And zero unsubscribes with the words “stop harassing me” in the subject line. Plus a satisfying number of superfans used the discount code below.

Turns out the horror movie playing in my head wasn’t based on reality. Shocking, I know.

But I reminded myself again that marketing doesn’t have to feel gross. It doesn’t have to sound like a used car salesman gargling mouthwash. It can actually feel like... storytelling. And I just told you a cool story.

Which is kind of perfect, since that’s what we’re good at.

And that strategy, my good readers, is what I put into the Story Funnel Playbook — a system for marketing your writing that doesn’t make you want to delete your writing and social media accounts and become a hermit.

Inside, you’ll find:

The Authentic Creator’s Manifesto that gives you permission to hate sleazy marketing (and offers a better way).

The Story Sequence Playbook with seven fill-in-the-blank email templates that sound like you, not some AI bot having an identity crisis.

Tech Cheatsheets for Systeme.io, Substack, and MailerLite that assume you’re a writer, not a software engineer. Plus bonuses on AI art, visual anchors, and a sales page template that lets you sell to superfans without the cringe.

The “Visual Anchor” AI Art Bonus: A creator’s guide to using AI art to create stunning, memorable images that enhance your stories without requiring a degree in graphic design. Includes a bonus list of where you can download unique, non-AI license-free art.

The “Superfan” Sales Page Template: The simple, authentic sales page template that lets you offer a deluxe version of your work directly to your most enthusiastic readers — no high-pressure tactics required.

Elizabeth Cottrell, one of the pre-publication reviewers, said: “The word ‘Story’ in the title does not mean it’s only for fiction writers. What you’re teaching here applies to ALL writers... it applies to anyone who has something to promote. You have a direct, clear style that reduces techno-intimidation beautifully.”

And Luna from LatinxBridges wrote: “This product is so good, enticing, and exciting. Furthermore, this section gets to the heart of the matter in a manner that resonates immediately: ‘Your job isn’t to trick people into buying from you. It’s to make it easy for the right people to find you.’”

It launched three weeks ago, and people are already using it to build their first real welcome sequences — the kind that actually convert readers into fans.

Now here’s the thing: if you know a writer who’s drowning in marketing guilt, or if you’re shopping for someone who keeps saying “I just want to focus on my writing” while their brilliant work sits unseen in a corner of the internet... this makes a pretty perfect gift.

Because what writer wouldn’t want permission to market authentically? To sell without selling their soul?

The playbook is available now at Payhippayhip.com/b/x5S8H, and if you use discount code SellYourself at checkout, you’ll get it at the early adopter price.

Whether you grab it for yourself or wrap it up (metaphorically — it’s digital) for the writer in your life, you’ll be giving the gift of marketing that doesn’t suck.

And honestly? In this economy, with this inbox chaos, with this creator overwhelm? That might be the best gift of all.

P.S. I sent that scary email again this week. Easier the second time. Still had to eat some chips first, though. Progress, not perfection.