Failure is an Option

I’m told that I should blog. I should also be active on social media and build a newsletter and network and podcast and plan a book tour1. But I’m not doing any of that. Having read scores of advice from those who know what they’re talking about, it seems unanimous that I am doing it all wrong.

I’ll have another book finished soon and I should be doing some or all of the above to promote it. I know that it’s good advice too, and I agree that I should integrate these suggestions into an actionable marketing campaign if I want to have any realistic shot at finding readers. But I won’t. I simply don’t want to2.

I promise that it’s not because I think I’m special. I acknowledge that I’m not exceptionally smart, funny, or talented, and I certainly don’t have any connections, pedigree, or marketable niche characteristics that I can lean on. I just don’t want to try and sell Me3. I’m not a great product.

Which is why it might seem silly that I’m committed to self-publishing. Without detailing the many hurdles that I’d need to clear to get a shot at being traditionally published4, I’ll just say that I’ve done my research and determined that self-publishing is the only viable path forward. So, if I’m going to willfully ignore good advice, then I’ll at least accept full responsibility for when I fall short.

I enjoy writing long-form5 fiction. Some people like video games, weightlifting, puzzles, marathon running, building model villages, designing vintage doll clothes, taking toys out of boxes on YouTube, etc.6, and I’ve tried at least a couple of those things before; but I’ve found that nothing is cheaper than writing. And as someone with kids who has spent the last twenty years living paycheck-to-paycheck, cost is a major factor in selecting a hobby.

Which is why I’m not concerned with failure. So, if I only sell a few copies to friends and family7, that’s fine. Please don’t offer words of encouragement or inspiration, as I’ll already have moved on and will be deep into my next project8. At the end of the day, I write because it’s fun, and if you read my upcoming book then you’ll see what I mean. Besides, I’m confident that something I write will eventually find its audience, because I know that my shit is good enough to play9. Well, maybe it is anyway.


  1. I haven’t looked into what that means yet, but I’ve already determined that it’s tedious, expensive, and unhelpful.
  2. And yet I’m blogging right now!
  3. Want to know why not? Reread that paragraph for clues!
  4. But to summarize without context: word count and genre present insurmountable obstacles without me significantly padding the prose, rewriting to meet expectations of tropes, and adding a few fluff chapters. Basically, the three things I complain about most often with books.
  5. I consider what I write to be condensed long-form, I guess.
  6. You got the idea, so I really didn’t need to go on that long. Beekeeping is another example, though. Home-brewing too.
  7. Actually, friends and family are strongly discouraged from buying copies. Unless you happen to read a lot of thrillers, your purchase history will fuck up Amazon’s algorithmic recommendations for my book. Please don’t inadvertently recommend my book to readers of zombie erotica or whatever you regularly purchase.
  8. It’s a romance novella. Find out soon if that’s a joke or not!
  9. And knowing is half the battle.