Sharon and Jim lived in Palmerston, a satellite city east of Darwin. Palmerston, rebuilt with modern techniques after Cyclone Tracy, was a place of clean streets, sturdy homes, and oddly specific road signs warning about wallabies. It was safe but unremarkable—much like their book sales.

The couple had co-written three novels about a quirky amateur detective who solved crimes while birdwatching in the Northern Territory. Reviews were solid. “Clever plot twists!” wrote one reader. “Not bad,” wrote another. Yet sales were flat, stuck in the low dozens each month.

“This town survived a cyclone and a reconstruction,” Sharon said one evening, staring at their Amazon dashboard. “We can survive bad sales.”

Jim groaned. “Surviving isn’t selling. We need a plan.”

They came up with five ideas that night. It felt optimistic, like rebuilding after a storm.

Chapter 2: The Five Ideas

The first idea was simple: advertise on Amazon. They set up campaigns targeting readers of similar books. At first, the results were promising. Clicks trickled in, but conversions were scarce.

“People click but don’t buy,” Jim muttered.

“Maybe our blurb needs work,” Sharon suggested.

Their second idea was to revamp their book covers. They hired a designer who specialized in bold, genre-specific designs. The new covers were beautiful. Sales rose slightly, but not enough to justify the cost.

Idea three: social media. Sharon started a TikTok account, posting videos about writing and birdwatching. Jim focused on Twitter, where he mostly argued with people about the proper use of commas. Sharon’s videos got a few thousand views. Jim got blocked by a grammar influencer.

“Social media is exhausting,” Sharon said.

“I think I lost followers,” Jim added.

Their fourth idea was to release an audiobook version of their first novel. They hired a local voice actor who nailed the detective’s dry humor. The audiobook launched to silence.

Finally, they tried direct engagement. They emailed every reader who’d left a positive review, offering free short stories in exchange for joining their newsletter. This worked better than expected. Their newsletter grew modestly, and repeat sales increased.

Chapter 3: The Report

After a year, they met with their life coach, Rhonda, a retired public speaker who’d built her own business from scratch. Rhonda listened as they reported their results.

“Advertising didn’t work well,” Sharon said. “Too expensive for the return.”

“The new covers helped a little,” Jim added. “But they didn’t pay for themselves.”

“TikTok was fun but inconsistent,” Sharon said. “Twitter was pointless,” Jim muttered.

Rhonda nodded, her expression neutral. “And the audiobook?”

“Dead on arrival,” Sharon said.

“What did work?” Rhonda asked.

“The newsletter,” Jim said. “That actually brought people back for more.”

Rhonda leaned forward. “Good. Then focus on what works. And here’s another idea: collaboration. Find another author in your genre. Share audiences. Double your reach.”

Jim scratched his chin. “You mean like cross-promotion?”

“Exactly,” Rhonda said. “Try it. What’s the worst that can happen?”

Chapter 4: A Marine-Sized Collaboration

Inspired by Rhonda’s advice, Sharon and Jim reached out to a local author named Max, who wrote military thrillers. Max’s books often featured Marines stationed in Darwin, complete with F-22 Raptors and political intrigue. It was the opposite of birdwatching mysteries, but Max was game.

Max suggested they co-write a novella. “Marines and birdwatching,” he said. “It’s so weird, it just might work.”

The novella, Parrots and Platoons, took three months to write. It was an absurd mashup of genres, but it was fun. They cross-promoted it to their newsletters and saw modest success. Sales didn’t skyrocket, but their mailing lists grew significantly.

“People liked the humor,” Sharon said.

“Even the wallabies got fan mail,” Jim added.

Chapter 5: The Conference Revelation

Months later, Sharon and Jim were invited to speak at an online conference on Amazon book sales. They were hesitant. “We’re hardly experts,” Jim said.

“Maybe not,” Sharon said, “but we survived.”

During the conference, they shared their story. Jim talked about their failures with ads and audiobooks. Sharon highlighted their modest wins with newsletters and collaborations.

Near the end, an attendee asked, “If you could give one piece of advice, what would it be?”

Sharon and Jim exchanged a glance. Then Sharon said, “Everyone tells you to find your audience. But maybe your audience doesn’t know they’re your audience yet.”

Jim nodded. “Sometimes, people don’t know what they want until they see it. Be willing to experiment, even if it feels ridiculous. That’s how we found out birdwatchers like military thrillers.”

The chat exploded with reactions. Attendees praised their insight, calling it fresh and unexpected. The phrase “audience doesn’t know they’re your audience” trended on conference forums.

When the session ended, Rhonda called. “You two just invented a new marketing theory,” she said.

Sharon laughed. “Who knew wallabies and Marines could teach us so much?”

Palmerston remained a quiet town, but Sharon and Jim’s words echoed far beyond its borders. Sometimes, the key to success wasn’t rebuilding like Darwin after a cyclone. Sometimes, it was embracing the storm and letting it carry you somewhere new.