Steve McAlphabet Motorcycling Music Across America
A Crowded Market

A Crowded Market

I stood between the shelves of Barnes and Noble scratching my head as I scanned the breadth of my chosen subject. In the field of marketing, it seemed that no stone had been unturned or word unwritten in the search for the best techniques and most applicable laws. There were books on marketing management, guerrilla marketing, Internet marketing, social marketing, search engine marketing, print marketing, media marketing, art marketing, database marketing, email marketing, healthcare marketing, marketing strategy, marketing for dummies, marketing for idiots, marketing for neophytes, marketing for tourists, marketing for the affluent, church

marketing, green marketing, affiliate marketing, global marketing, business marketing, marketing research, marketing mistakes, retail marketing, direct marketing, and seemingly every other variation of marketing that could be imagined. It seemed that the field was exhausted.

And just what was I going to bring to these hallowed shelves of revered information? Wheel-shaped food as a social bridge? How was I possibly going to find anything to add to this conversation? Standing there staring at those books, I suddenly felt like a man trying to sell a yo-yo in the middle of FAO Schwartz.

I sullenly made my way out of the book store as a teenager was unloading yet another box of brand new books. Considering how many new books were published every year, I wondered how they were all able to find a market. As a matter of fact, how did anything find a market?

I walked out the front door and into the sun. In the shopping center where I stood was also a Best Buy, selling every kind of electronic device you might need, a sporting goods store, a vision center, and two restaurants. As I traveled down the street toward my home, there were more restaurants, furniture stores, drug stores, clothing stores, toy stores, music stores, and every conceivable kind of offering the American consumer had become accustomed to. It occurred to me that there was no lack. We have everything in this country.

I admitted to myself that I didn’t know much about economics, but I did remember hearing something about the law of supply and demand. Was there really any demand for anything new? Was there really any just cause to supply anything new to a society that had so much already? Was there really a demand for yet another book on the subject?

By the time I reached my house, I’d worked myself up into a fevered pitch. Not only was I dreading the reality that I may be writing a book in a market that has no need for it, but also the greater reality that I was completely unqualified to do so. Other than the countless number of commercials that had seeped into my brain over the years, I had no formal training on the intricacies of marketing.

I grabbed a cold beer from the refrigerator, and sat down in front of the television with the hope that by killing off some of my lesser used brain cells, the stronger ones might rise up, and I might be able to think more clearly. Though I was offered seventy-three channels to choose from, nothing could captivate my attention as much as the fearful ramblings that were churning around in my head.

During a dramatic scene of “Law and Order”, I hit mute and started pacing the floor, beer in hand, engaging in a blusterous soliloquy on the complete and utter folly that stemmed from even giving this concept a day of my life, much less following through with the lengthy process of writing of a book about it. As night drew on, I worried my way through quite a few bottles, and though the diatribe of my reticence continued, it became awash in an amber slur rendering it largely harmless until I melted, fully clothed, into bed and sawed through my forest of arguments.

This is an excerpt from How to Survive an Estralarian Mind Meld. Come back weekly for the next part or order your copy in ebook or paperback today!