With Pinterest, Technology Isn’t the Most Interesting Part. The Book Is.

I've been working with Pinterest since 2018. I loved it then. I'm crazy obsessed with it now. But oddly enough, the longer I do this work, the less I think about Pinterest itself and the more I think about books—and the people who create them.

Here are a few things I believe pretty strongly:

1. The quietest parts of a book can be its greatest marketing assets.

I'm fascinated by the tender moments in books. The emotional connection between characters. The particular child a story was written for. The author's style and sensibility. The reason the book needed to be written in the first place.

Those things are golden nuggets on Pinterest because people are searching for them.

They're looking for a book to help a shy child make a friend. A story about belonging. A science book for a child who can't stop collecting rocks. A book that opens a conversation about courage, grief, confidence, kindness, or change.

They may not know the author's name. They almost certainly aren't searching for the book's title.

They're searching for what the book gives them.

That's the connection I'm interested in making.

2. Nothing that went into creating a book needs to be wasted.

This is especially true with nonfiction. Think of all that glorious research that never made it onto the page! The rabbit holes. The fascinating facts. The historical connections. The photographs, people, places, scientific concepts, and unanswered questions.

I don't see those as leftovers. I see them as pathways.

Instead of endlessly saying, “Buy my book,” an author can say, “Look at this fascinating thing.” A teacher can discover one tiny piece of research, follow it to the book, download an educator guide, find a lesson connected to one particular concept—and suddenly we've created an entirely different route to discovery.

A single book can have dozens of legitimate doorways leading into it.

3. Sometimes Pinterest can tell the story the packaging doesn't.

This one is important to me because I've seen wonderful books enter the world wearing covers—or carrying publisher descriptions—that don't come close to communicating what is inside them.

That doesn't mean the book is doomed.

We can create visual and searchable entry points into the emotional depth, themes, curriculum connections, research, and author's intent that aren't immediately apparent from the cover.

The author's true intent can become a marketing asset.

In a way, Pinterest gives us another opportunity to say, “Wait. Look again. Let me show you what this book really is.”

I love that.

4. The analytics can help us listen.

My skills have sharpened considerably since I started this work in 2018. One of the things I've learned is that Pinterest analytics aren't simply numbers on a report. They're information.

They can tell us whether we've clarified the intent of the book. Which language is connecting? Which themes are being discovered? Are teachers responding differently than parents? Is there an aspect of the story that people are finding particularly useful or compelling?

Then we listen. We refine. We try another doorway.

We're not changing the book to suit an algorithm. Quite the opposite. We're getting better at communicating what was special about the book all along.

And I think that distinction matters enormously right now. We live in a time when it is remarkably easy to create more content. I don't think authors need more noise. I think we need to become very good at recognizing and communicating what is original, particular, human, and deeply true about their work.

5. A book deserves more than a launch date.

This may be the thing I believe most strongly.

A beautiful book doesn't stop being valuable because its launch month is over.

A teacher may need it three years from now. A librarian may discover it while planning next semester's unit. A parent may need that exact story next Tuesday.

Pinterest is still a long game—and I believe it's a game worth playing well.

A thoughtfully constructed campaign can establish searchable pathways that continue working long after launch day. We can watch those pathways, learn from them, refresh them, and, when we discover something that's really connecting, use affordable promoted strategies to put that message in front of even more of the right people.

The work we do today doesn't have to disappear tomorrow.

6. I believe every book deserves a digital bookmark.

This is probably the simplest way I can explain my whole philosophy.

I think every book deserves a permanent little place on Pinterest—a digital bookmark, almost like its own star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame—that says:

This book is here.
This is what it holds.
And this is who might need it.

From there, we can create pathways to educator guides, individual lessons, activities, research extensions, interviews, discussion questions, seasonal connections, and all those wonderful pieces surrounding the book.

But ultimately, I'm not terribly interested in helping authors make more pins.

I'm interested in helping good books keep finding the people they were written for.

The technology isn't the most interesting part to me.

The book is.