Longtime GalleyCat readers may recall last year's interview with Mark Stevens, shortly after the publication of God Is a Salesman; since then, he's recently published a new book, Rich Is a Religion—but when we dropped in on a special lunchtime seminar he was running at the 92Y Tribeca last week, the theme harkened back to his first publishing success, a book called Your Marketing Sucks.

"I'm not a motivational speaker," Stevens warned the dozen or so attendees as the discussion began. "I don't like motivational speakers." As if to prove the point, a few minutes later, he told the audience that he sees an economic depression in the near future as a certainty—but then turned that prediction around, reminding them that not even the Great Depression stopped economic activity dead. This was the time, for you to move forward, he challenged, while your competitors were afraid.

One woman raised her hand, wondering how she could ask her current clients to provide her for referrals for new work without appearing weak or desperate, which led to a lively discussion about what drives word-of-mouth which got us thinking about how things work in the book business. For the most part, publishers do not approach readers directly and ask them to read a particular book—when an exception like Cindy Spiegel's letter on the back cover of The Kite Runner came along, it was viewed (even within her own publishing company) as too risky, a potential blow to credibility.

Never mind that every interaction with a "professional" reviewer is, in essence, an act of giving somebody a book for free and begging them to read it; apparently asking the same of someone who would actually spend money on the book is tacky. But wait—circling back to the referral question that started this line of thought, isn't what publishers are really asking from readers is that they tell other readers about books they love? So how do you make that happen consistently? The obvious answer is to publish books that are pretty damn awesome; the harder answer is to establish a rapport with readers and make them feel like you are providing them with something of value. Emphasis on readers; as Stevens said, "Once we view people as customers, we're dead."

What stuck with us most, though, was the reminder that fear is indeed the great mind-killer. As that woman talked about her self-owned business, Stevens urged her to solicit referrals: "It's a perfect time for what you do," he told her; ask your clients to introduce you to colleagues, even if it's just to learn about what they're doing now and what they want to do. To which she said, "It's a good time, yes, but..."

You see that? How this woman was already mentally cutting herself off from opportunity? We heard that and we immediately started thinking about how much similar trepidation we heard in the final weeks of 2008 from people in the publishing industry, from the moment Houghton Mifflin Harcourt stumbled through the announcement of its "acquisitions freeze." Some days, it felt like everybody had a death of publishing scenario to peddle.

We're pretty sure, though, that most of our readers didn't choose a career in the publishing industry—or choose to become writers—because they wanted to live in fear.