Back in the day, I ran a local writers’ workshop with a couple of fabulous partners. We started this business on something of a lark. The three of us had spoken to a friend’s college classroom about the benefits of starting or joining a writing group after graduation because that’s how all of us continued to hone our craft and produce work. “Hey,” one of us said—and I’m sure this wasn’t me—”wouldn’t it be fun to do more of this? We should start a workshop so we can talk about writing and keep people motivated.”
And, like enthusiastic fools, we did.
I figured out how to create a website advertising our classes, then we each got busy hanging posters on every bulletin board within a 30-mile radius. We focused on coffee shops, bookstores, and libraries, because, hey, that’s where writers tend to hang out.
You’ve seen these advertisements even if you’ve never paid close attention—posters with those little tabs dangling at the bottom with a phone number so you can tear one off and call to discuss the advertised service or program.
Before our first session was scheduled to begin, we had a total of ten students who had learned about us this way. TEN!
And that’s how these things start. I mean businesses. If we’re not hanging posters or tacking up business cards on bulletin boards, we’re telling people about our offers on social media. Those brave enough begin talking to local groups about topics related to their products or services. From there, a business will take off when satisfied customers start talking about you and making referrals.
The beauty of those early days wasn’t just in the simplicity of our marketing approach—it was in the lifelong connections we made. Each torn-off phone number represented someone who saw potential in what we offered. Every conversation that followed was an opportunity to share our passion and help others discover theirs. We weren’t polished professionals with marketing budgets; we were three writers who believed in the power of community and the magic that happens when people gather to tell their stories.
Our workshop sessions became something to write home about (pun intended). Writers of all levels would arrive with notebooks clutched to their chests, some nervous, others eager, all hoping to find their voice or strengthen the one they’d already discovered. We’d sit around a big conference table, reading our work aloud, offering feedback, celebrating breakthroughs, and supporting each other through creative blocks. It was grassroots creation at its finest—raw, authentic, and deeply personal.
I tell you this story because I’m pretty damn excited about how far we’ve come. By “we,” I mean Summit Press Publishers and the authors of the upcoming anthology The Wisdom Collection, which hits the market on June 24th.
Just last week we had a press release (about the book and the authors) hit over 500 media sites. We’ve appeared in Bloomberg, Business Insider, AP Newsroom, MarketBeat, and Owler. We’ve been seen on NBC, Fox, and Hollywood at 5. Just to name 8 of the 500+.
This kind of publicity is a far cry from the Starbucks bulletin board, let me tell you.
Where I once celebrated ten sign-ups from hand-torn tabs, I now measure our reach in hundreds of thousands of impressions across major media outlets. Where I once hoped a local coffee shop would let us leave our flyers on their community board without a hassle, I’m now fielding interview requests from national news organizations.
Here’s the thing: I’m thrilled for myself and my company, but more than that, I’m positively giddy that I can share the limelight with people who have put themselves out there in black and white—not just to share their wisdom and impact lives, but to allow readers to know who they are, what they stand for, and what they do for a living. These authors have done something that requires tremendous guts: they’ve claimed their expertise and shared their stories with the world.
For some of us, this is tantamount to standing on a public platform in your underwear.
I mean, just try and share your deeply held beliefs and experiences, and just try claiming your expertise, particularly when there are so many experts out there occupying the space. And you’ll see precisely what I mean.
There’s something vulnerable about saying, “I have wisdom worth sharing” or “My experience matters enough that others should read about it.” It requires us to overcome imposter syndrome and stride like a polo pony into our authority.
But here’s what I’ve learned from this journey, from bulletin boards to Bloomberg: every expert started somewhere. Every voice that now commands attention once mumbled into their coffee cups. The authors in The Wisdom Collection didn’t wait until they felt “ready enough” or “expert enough”—they recognized that their unique perspectives and hard-won insights had value, and they chose to share them.
Try telling one of them to keep their posters off the damn bulletin board!
The media attention we’re receiving isn’t just validation of our marketing efforts; it’s recognition that authentic wisdom resonates. In a world saturated with content, genuine expertise and real stories cut through the noise. The same authenticity that drew those first ten students to tear phone numbers off coffee shop bulletin boards is what’s drawing national media attention today.
Look, whether you’re hanging your first poster on a community bulletin board or preparing for your Bloomberg interview, remember this: your voice matters, your expertise is valid, and your story deserves to be told. The spotlight might feel intimidating, but it’s simply illuminating what was always there—your unique wisdom waiting to impact the world.
Sometimes the biggest leap isn’t from bulletin boards to Bloomberg; it’s from self-doubt to self-belief. Once you make that leap, buckle up, buttercup—because when the world recognizes you as newsworthy, the ride has just begun. And trust me, it’s one hell of a ride.
