I've never thought of myself as a salesperson. I'm not the guy who's comfortable working a room, handing out a pitch, and closing a deal on the spot. That's just not who I am.
Not even when I was an active attorney, I was never the “hustler” trying to get clients. I understood the importance of self-promotion, but it was not my comfort zone. I found other ways to get my name out in the community.
Over the years, I've learned something that made all the difference in getting clients and now promoting my music.
My strategy
Here's what it comes down to for me: I'm giving people the opportunity to hear my music. That's it. That's the whole strategy.
If people don't know who I am, they're never going to hear my songs. It's that simple. No matter how good the music is, it doesn't matter if it never reaches anyone's ears. So, my job isn't to convince anyone of anything — my job is just to make sure people actually get the chance to listen.
And here's why I believe in that so much: people seem to like my music. I like my music. I believe that if you hear it, you'll want to book me for a gig. I'm not trying to talk anyone into anything. I just want them to hear it and remember my name. That's the whole game. Get the music in front of people and let the music do the rest.
I learned that you don't have to sell yourself if you're consistent about showing up with something real.
The Package
Here's what I mean. When I go to a venue, meet a promoter, or run into someone who might be able to help my music career, I don't launch into a pitch. I don't try to convince anyone of anything. I hand them a small package, and I let the package do the talking.
I keep several of these packages in my car just in case I run into someone that I want to have it.
A good example. Last night, after our weekly Wednesday mountain bike ride, the group went out to dinner at a place I had not been to before. They had a band planning. So, I asked who I should talk to book a gig. I was introduced to the lady who does that (that does not always happen that I get to the right person, right away.). I ran to my car, got a package to give to her. I could see that she was impressed with the CD. She said she had a player in her car and would listen to it on the way home. We exchanged email address. That was it. She asked some basic questions about the band – style and size – but otherwise the package did the talking.
Inside that package is:
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A physical CD of my album – Here in Santa Fe
- A cover letter — short, clear, and to the point
- A sticker or two
- A business card with all my contact info
That's it. No hard sell. No awkward elevator pitch. Just something tangible I can put in someone's hands.
Why a CD Still Matters
I know what you might be thinking — who listens to CDs anymore? Fair point. Most people are going to find my music on Spotify or Apple music, not pop a disc into a player. But that's not really the point of the CD.
The CD is proof. It's proof that I take this seriously enough to actually finish something, package it, and put my name on it. Making a real CD takes effort — writing the songs, putting together the artist, recording them, mixing them, designing the artwork, manufacturing the physical product. That effort is visible the moment someone holds the CD in their hand. It signals, without me having to say a word, that I'm not a hobbyist dabbling on the weekends. I'm someone who follows through.
That credibility matters more than people realize. In a world where anyone can post a song online, a finished physical product still carries weight. It says: this person does the work.
The Real Secret: Give Them Something
Here's the part that actually matters most, though — more than the CD, more than the cover letter, more than any of it.
Most people give nothing.
Think about how many musicians, business owners, and professionals walk into a room, have a great conversation, shake a hand, and leave without giving the other person a single thing to hold onto. No card. No reminder. Nothing physical. Nothing memorable.
A week later, that conversation is gone. There's no reason to remember them, because there's nothing there to jog the memory. Good intentions don't survive a busy calendar and a flood of other conversations.
That's why the sticker matters. First everyone loves stickers. I don’t know why, but they do. It's a small, cheap thing — practically nothing in terms of cost — but it sits on a laptop, a car bumper, a guitar case. It's a tiny, physical reminder that keeps showing up in someone's daily life long after the conversation is over. Every time they see it, they think of you, even if just for a second.
The cover letter matters because it gives context without requiring a conversation. It says who I am, what I'm about, and how to find me — clearly and briefly, without demanding anyone's time or attention right then and there. People can read it later, on their own schedule, when they're actually receptive.
And the business card, obviously, is the practical piece — the actual path back to me. It has my phone number, an email, and a link to my website. It's the bridge between "I liked what I heard" and actually doing something about it.
Consistency Beats Charisma
None of this works as a one-time thing. The real power isn't in any single package I hand out — it's in doing this over and over, show after show, meeting after meeting, month after month. Consistency compounds. One CD in someone's hand might get forgotten. But the version of me who shows up every time with something real, something professional, something worth keeping — that's the version people start to remember and trust.
I don't have to be a natural salesperson to make this work. I just have to be consistent about showing up prepared, and generous enough to always leave something behind. The package does the selling for me. All I have to do is keep showing up with it.
I Haven't Mastered This
I want to be clear about something before I wrap this up: I'm not claiming I've mastered any of this. There are people out there who are far better at marketing, far better at networking, far better at building relationships than I am. This isn't a "here's the secret formula" post from someone who has it all figured out.
But for me... this approach works. It fits who I am. It lets me build relationships and get remembered without having to be someone I'm not. I'm still learning, still figuring it out, still improving the package and the approach as I go. This is just what's worked for me so far, imperfect as it is.
The Takeaway
If you're in a creative field — or honestly, any field where you're trying to build relationships and get remembered — the lesson is simple: give people something. It doesn't have to be expensive. It doesn't have to be complicated. It just has to be real and you have to do it consistently.
Most people give nothing, which means there's nothing to remember them by. Be the person who gives something. Over time, that's what separates the people who get remembered from the people who get forgotten.