While I was in the States last fall, I had dinner with my buddy Tim Vandehey, a ghostwriter who lives in Kansas City. I often refer to Tim those folks who’d like to have a book, but aren’t the least bit interested in doing the associated work. Tim knows the publishing industry inside and out. He writes for celebrities and industry leaders and has had a number of his projects hit the New York Times Best Sellers list. He’s not just a good guy; he’s the real deal.

I met Tim years ago at a writing conference in Idaho. Let me tell you, I learned a lot from him.

First, it was during the workshop he was conducting that I faced an ugly truth about my own fanciful approach to writing. “The world is full of would-be novelists sipping wine along the river Seine all day,” Tim said, “dabbling, talking a good game, but never actually accomplishing anything. Never getting their work out into the world.”

OK, maybe that’s not exactly what he said, but close enough for horseshoes.

I spotted him in the bar that evening, tapping away at his computer while the rest of us staying at the hotel were unwinding after a long day of shop talk. He was working on three book projects, he claimed, and had a deadline to meet. Oh, how I marveled at his focus, his single-mindedness, his dedication. His ability to write under less than ideal conditions, i.e. not along the banks of the Seine.

Second, Tim treats writing as a business. That’s how he makes his money, supports his family. He doesn’t have time to contemplate his navel. Or write 15 drafts until he gets the setting just so, as one tends to do when writing fiction. He doesn’t meander around: he puts a positioning plan together, then an outline, then works to that.

For takeaway three through three hundred and forty, there’s this.

Not long ago, Tim came out with his own (co-authored) book. How To Sell A Crapload of Books: 10 Secrets of a Killer Author Marketing Platform.

I’ve started sending this book to my own clients. Because it’s all fun and games, this book-writing stuff, until it’s time to sell a few thousand copies of it.

A lot of my clients write really well. I mean, REALLY well. They’ve also got a nice little platform for themselves, a following, so there comes a time when the possibility of traditional publishing comes up in the conversation. They’ve suddenly seen the very real possibilities for their book. They recognize that the thing has legs. They no longer think exclusively in terms of selling it at the back of the room after speaking gigs; handing it to potential clients to bring them up to speed, as they originally intended. A much larger audience awaits them. OUT THERE. They want to get their book into the hands of people they’ve never met.

Do we write a book proposal? Send out agent query letters? That’s the sort of thing they start asking.

Is the platform large enough (over 30,000+ followers), yummy enough (you’ve got a hefty list you can turn over to your promoters), to attract a house, that’s always the question I consider before I answer.

Platform, platform, platform.

Entrepreneurs tend to get the whole platform thing, business professionals normally don’t.

One of the most common myths about platform, according to Tim, is this:

If my book is great, platform doesn’t matter.

And that’s a hard pill to swallow for a lot of us who still believe talent will rule the day. I mean, my whole raison d’etre is to keep my clients from publishing crap. I’m all about beautiful writing, effective structure, and a clear, compelling message. I’m all about understanding the audience, the problems they are experiencing, the solution you are providing them, the associated benefits, supported by your well-crafted stories.

And yet.

Having a massive platform also gives you more freedom and options in the publishing world. See, when it comes to the decision to buy a book, publishers give the quality and originality of the work and the author’s marketing platform more-or-less equal weight. But as your platform gets stronger and stronger, quality becomes less important. That balance tips away from 50-50.

In other words, beautiful writing, well, it’s only part of it. The lesser half of it, even. The other part, that’s the stuff Tim deals with in this book.

Fair, or not, it’s true.

Regardless of whether you intend to go the traditional publishing route, or not, you’re going to need to develop a platform, sooner rather than later, if you want to sell some serious books. You need a plan in hand that will walk you through the process step-by-step. Really, when you look at it here (picture me flipping through the book), it’s very doable.

Otherwise, you’re going to end up being one of those people that announces their recent publication on Facebook a couple of times, sends out a cute note to the old email list the one time, then throws those hands up in the air, all dramatic like.

And I’d rather you learn this platform and marketing stuff from someone I respect, who knows the non-fiction industry inside and out.

In other words, if you’d like to sell some books, buy this book.

Nuff said.