Nobody Owes You Their Attention

And other things I wish I’d thought about before I started building a brand in public

Nobody Owes You Their Attention
@gethandsdirty is a maker and YouTuber who just celebrated 10 years of creative work with an exhibit and a party. Her post about it clearly resonated with her audience, because they love her and want to celebrate too. It's a great reminder that when something big happens, it’s always worth sharing.

Welcome to Tincan, a newsletter about marketing, culture, and how small brands make a big impact. Subscribe here.

As you might have noticed, I’m working on building a brand for myself. I started freelancing in 2018 and coasted for about five years on word of mouth and established relationships. Then I had one really bad year. Financially horrible. Awful. And yet, here I am, still deranged enough to want to keep freelancing! Because I do love it. So I decided to get serious. To treat it like the business it already was. 

But, like I mentioned last week, I’m not trying to be a business exactly—I’m trying to be a brand. And now, 15 months into that experiment, I’m reflecting on what that even means. This one’s a little more personal than usual—less brand breakdown, more behind-the-scenes. But I figured if I’m going to talk about how small brands grow, I should also show you what the whole thing looks like for me.

So here are a few lessons I’ve learned. Some from past experience, some from sheer trial and error, and some that only fully clicked into place this morning.

Some Maybe-Helpful Thoughts

Nobody owes you their attention.

The hardest part is getting people to care. I say “just show up” a lot in this newsletter. Open an account! Make a post! Do the thing! And I stand by that. But also...showing up isn’t enough. No one is sitting around waiting to hear from you. (Rude, I know.) There is no magical “if you build it, they will come” moment. That’s a movie plot, not a marketing plan. 

Nobody wants to jump platforms.

If you have a newsletter (or a blog or a podcast), it’s not enough to post a link on Instagram and expect people to click through. I’ve done this every time, and it took me 15 months to realize that no one wants to consume content that way. People go on Instagram...to be on Instagram. Not to be rerouted to my 800-word opinion piece. So now I’m trying to make sure my content works for the platform it’s on. That might mean reframing it, repackaging it, or sometimes rethinking it entirely.

A great example of this is @renovationhusbands. They run a website/blog and a highly successful Instagram account—but they never just share links between them. Each platform stands on its own. 

Complementary but totally different, @renovationhusbands

Quiet doesn’t mean they don’t care.

One of my most toxic traits is tracking metrics. I do this even when I’m just casually scrolling: noting likes, follower counts, engagement stats on posts from celebrities, local businesses, even my friends (sorry). I have invisible spreadsheets in my head. It’s not good. 

But here’s what all that obsessive tallying has taught me: passive engagement is the norm. Just because something doesn’t rack up public stats doesn’t mean people aren’t paying attention. The Brooklyn Public Library, for example, has over 80,000 followers, but some of their posts get just 30 to 80 likes. That might seem like low engagement—until you notice that when a post does hit, it really hits. Those spikes are a signal: people are watching, even if they aren’t interacting every single time.

The audience you already have matters most.

Every week, I mention a few small brands in this newsletter. And every week, I email them to say I gave them a shoutout. I don’t hear back from all of them (maybe 30% reply, which always feels low) but when they do, it changes everything. I go from admiring them to advocating for them. It also just feels good! I try to always do that now, too.

Let people in.

Two of my favorite musicians are on tour right now and neither has been posting much. No fan content reposts. Very few tour snapshots. And while I respect the “put your phone down” energy, I also wish I could see more (because I care a lot). The reality is that they’re probably running their own accounts. And if you’re performing, traveling, working nonstop, how are you also supposed to be creating content about it? It’s unsustainable. We all get it. 

…But if you’re doing something exciting, messy, or meaningful, most people who care about your brand would love a peek, even if it’s just a chaotic slideshow with the caption, “This has been wild, ttyl after a nap.” People are eager to join you. Let them in.

Scraps

  • Circling back to “the audience you already have matters most”—there are 40 of you now (!!) and I appreciate you so much! Thanks for being here.
  • Tell me: what kinds of Tincan stuff have you liked best? What’s been helpful?