Would you write for just one reader?

Why focusing on one person changes how you think about sharing

I have been thinking a lot about a single hour from 1969. What happened in this hour is a powerful lesson about what it means to share your work, and a huge mindset shift in how to think about developing an audience.

In December of 1969, the band ZZ Top played a show at the National Guard Armory in Alvin, Texas. Here is the short version of what happened:

• The curtain opened for them to start playing, and while they expected to see a half-full room, there was only one person in the audience.

• The guy turned to leave, and the band called to him asking him to stay.

• They played their entire set, an hour long.

• They took a break, called him over and bought him a Coke.

• They then played an encore. To one person.

What can we learn from this that you can apply to your platform as a writer, and how can this help you reframe what it means to share your work? Soooooooooo much.

Let’s break it down into why each of these 5 moments in the hour matters…

Moment #1: Why One Person Matters

Time and time again, I will ask a writer about their platform, and they will say something like, “Ugh, I only have 60 subscribers to my newsletter. It’s pathetic. Why even bother? I haven’t sent out a newsletter in a while, because what’s the point?”

One thing to consider here is that if you don’t learn how to engage one person, how can you develop the skills to engage 10, or 100, or 1,000, or 10,000? This is not just about counting numbers in the audience, it is about honing your ability to share as a craft, learning how your unique creative voice can truly reach your ideal readers.

Craft is often about taking practice and preparation very seriously. I grew up as an artist, I’m married to an amazing artist, and most of my friends over the years have been creators of some sort or another. When you see a beautiful painting that someone made, there is so much you don’t see: the 20 pages of sketches, the 3 false starts, the 2 other canvases they started and threw in the trash, the piles of paint and brushes they thought were the right choice, but weren’t.

For how you share, one person matters. Honestly, that is often how your work is read anyway. When I send out a newsletter, while it does go out to thousands of people, that isn’t the reality of how it is read. Each person receives it in their inbox, unaware of the other people. They see my name, they read the subject line, and their choice to read it is entirely up to them. When they do read it, if they relate to it, it is as if I wrote it entirely for them. There is no “audience” in this situation, where they are sitting next to 100 other people reading my newsletter at the same time. It is from me to one person.

It’s similar to reading a book — even if I know it is a bestseller, I am reading it alone. If I like it, it creates a powerful connection between the author’s intention, and how I experience it.

For that show in 1969, it was one of ZZ Top’s early shows. However, they weren’t exactly new musicians or unknown. Members of the band had played across Texas for years, and they had recently played on bills with Janis Joplin, Chuck Berry, Bo Diddley, and Grand Funk Railroad. I mean, these are legendary performers.

For this show in Alvin, Texas, while they hoped for a sellout crowd, they would have been happy if the venue was half full. But when the curtain opened and there was just one person in the audience, it was clearly a disappointment for the band.

Yet, they knew that every person matters. Their aspiration was to play music and improve as a band. This is not conditional — if one person is there, you play.

This is how they became world-class performers, playing thousands of shows from the 1960s to today. Yes, they are still on tour, scheduled to play dozens of shows in the US and Canada this year.

I don’t know the subtle combination of reasons that they chose to play for one person. Maybe they wanted to live up their agreement with the venue, or simply practice as a band, or most likely: have their music heard. You develop a following by playing show after show, converting one person to becoming a fan at a time.

Moment #2: Asking for That One Person to Stay

I mean, imagine this, not just playing to one person, but stopping them from leaving and encouraging them to stay. If you had spent weeks planning a book reading and you saw one person all the way in the back of the room, and then they turned to leave, would you chase after them? Would you then do the entire reading and Q&A with just that person? Would you pour them a drink and give them a cupcake? I know theoretically we all would say, “yes,” but in an actual social situation, I feel like many of us wouldn’t be that up front. We would justify, “He walked out because she must have been in the wrong place. Besides, I don’t want to have to drag people to see my event.”

So many writers and artists feel shame in asking for attention or asking for help. They don’t want to look like they are trying too hard because they justify that great art should just magically find an audience. The fact that ZZ Top asked this one guy to stay is a huge step that I don’t want to overlook. Asking is a part of the process, and it is not one that means you are a sellout or “a self-involved marketer” or “not a real artist.”

Asking is one way we connect with each other, and how people will be moved by what you create.

Moment #3: Playing the Entire Set

The band didn’t apologize by playing half a set, they went all the way, giving it a full performance as if 100 people had been there.

Don’t half bake how you share. Don’t give one person a lesser version of your creative vision because you feel the effort isn’t as valuable unless you reach a larger audience. This is another area where I feel like psychologically it’s easy to say, “Oh, of course Dan! I would give my all to each individual person.”

Yet I go back to that thing I mentioned earlier, with having “only 60 subscribers.” So many people stop sharing because they feel their audience is too small. They may feel embarrassed, or like failures, or that it’s a sign their voice doesn’t matter. They silence themselves. Yet, there are 60 people who are subscribed!

Again and again I have seen value in how getting good at engaging one person, helps you engage 10, then 20, them more. Every person counts, and each person deserves the best of what you have to offer.

Moment #4: Buying the Guy a Coke

This is above and beyond, and I note it because it breaks through the fourth wall that bands may have when they perform. Perhaps they sometimes want that distance, where they are the “artist,” and across a chasm is the “listener,” to whom they don’t have to explain themselves or their work to.

But in this situation, when they ended the set, they waved the one guy over and bought him a Coke, removing the distance between the artist and the audience. The band said, “We bought him a Coke because we were thankful that he stuck around.”

I love that focus on gratitude and connection. Here is the band buying something for the audience. Amazing.

Moment #5: Playing an Encore

In retrospect, the band laughed at the fact that they played an encore to this one guy, saying, “An encore is supposed to be when they demand to have you back!” In this situation, they were playing to one moderately interested guy. Yet, they overdelivered. They wanted the night and the experience to feel complete.

As an epilogue to their story, after their huge success in the 1970s and early 1980s, they said: "About fifteen years later we played at the Summit in Houston and we got a note backstage and it was from this guy. This time we had him backstage."

Showing Up is a Power We Each Have

As I consider this one hour in 1969, I think of this in two ways:

• We each have the power to show up for others. To be that one person in the audience.

• But also, we have the power to choose to share our best work for each person who may be interested.

We often first write for one single person: ourselves. To me, showing up for one additional person is a natural extension of this.

Now, I’m not naive. I understand that if someone takes the effort to publish their work, that they hope that it means they can reach people at scale. That their newsletter or essay or book finds people easily, without repeated effort. That instead of reaching just one person, that you reach 100, or 1,000, or 100,000.

This is part of why I like using the example of musicians so often in my newsletter. Because while they publish their music in a similar way as a writer publishes a book, there is also a longstanding tradition of building an audience one show and one person at a time.

This is not to say that as a writer, you have to “perform.” Rather it is a reminder that while there are inspiring stories of writers going viral, and their books naturally finding a large audience, that isn’t always the norm.

When you approach how you share as a craft, we demystify what it truly looks like to connect with a reader.

“No one showed up”

Nowadays, sharing that "no one showed up" can actually have positive outcomes. I have seen many stories like this on social media. It usually has a writer or artist posting online that they planned for an event for months, but then no one showed up, and upload a photo of the empty room, often including the prepared activities they had created.

In the past I’ve shared about an amazing experience from Stacy McAnulty where no one showed up… but then at the last minute, one fan did. Like ZZ Top, she actually ended up buying her fan a book:

The other day I saw a story on Threads where an author/artist shared this:

This resonated with a lot of people, and in just a day or two, 150 people signed up to a brand new “Virtual Poetry Club” that she is hosting.

These are incredible illustrations of the power of sharing our experiences. Doing so adds an emotional thrust that can motivate people to get involved in a manner they would not have before.

Good storytelling is often central to good marketing. If you ever feel like you are alone in your creative journey, and that your efforts are falling short, please remember that sharing your unique creative voice is one of the greatest assets you have to reaching your readers.

Please let me know in the comments: would you write to just one reader? Whether that is a Substack, an essay, or a book? Why or why not?

For my paid subscribers this week, I shared mini-case study on what a 7-ELEVEN employee teaches us about sharing with authenticity. See a preview here.

Reminder: if you want to explore working with me, there are two ways I collaborate with writers and creators:

1. One-on-one consulting

2. My Creative Shift Mastermind, whose doors open up again in April

As always, thank you for being here with me.
-Dan

Kids of the Week: typing with grandma:

Setting up his train set:

His favorite toy: a large box: