She recognized the strategy.She’d used it herself, once or twice.
When the discussion turned to marketing—or specifically, the lack of it—she couldn’t help herself.
“You mentioned social media earlier,” she said, interrupting Marty mid-sentence.“What platforms are you using?”
Marty blinked.“We have a Facebook page.”
“When was the last time you posted?”
A pause.“March, maybe?”
“It’s May.”
“We’ve been busy.”
She pulled out her phone and typed quickly.“Your page has four hundred followers.Your last post got twelve likes.Your cover photo is from 2019.”She looked up.“You’re invisible.”
Bryan’s jaw tightened.“We’re not invisible.People know about the festival.”
“People who already live here, maybe.But you said yourself that attendance is down.That means you’re not reaching new audiences.And you can’t reach new audiences if you’re not showing up where they are.”
“So what, we need to go viral?Get some influencer to come take pictures and pretend they care about our little town?”He rolled his eyes.
“No.You need to tell a story that makes people want to be part of something.”She set her phone down.“Right now, you’re not telling any story at all.You’re just existing and hoping people will remember you exist too.”
The room went quiet.
The young woman was watching her with interest.The older man was frowning.The mayor looked like she was trying not to smile.
Bryan looked like he was trying not to throw something.
“You’ve been here five minutes,” he said.“And you think you know what we need.”
“I’ve been here five minutes, and I can see what’s not working.That’s not the same thing.I’m not saying I have all the answers.I’m saying you’re not asking the right questions.”
“And what questions should we be asking?”
“Who are you trying to reach?What do you want them to feel?Why should they choose this festival over everything else competing for their attention?”She paused.“Until you answer them, no amount of posters or Facebook posts is going to make a difference.”
Bryan stared at her.
Then he pushed back his chair and stood.“I need some air.”
He walked out of the room without looking back.
The mayor sighed.“Well.That went well.”
The meeting limped along for another twenty minutes after Bryan left.Marty took notes.The older man—Frank, the harbormaster, she finally found out—offered a few logistical updates about permits and parking.
She said very little.She’d already said too much.
When the meeting finally ended, she slipped out before anyone could corner her for follow-up conversation.She needed coffee.She needed to walk.She needed to figure out why she’d let herself get pulled into someone else’s problem when she’d specifically come here to avoid exactly that.
