Truths

Here is the truth about self-published books:

• The average self-published book sells 250 copies.
• The average self-published author makes $1,000 per year from their books.
• 33% of self-published authors make less than $500 per year.
• 90% of self-published books sell less than 100 copies.
• 20% of self-published authors report making no income from their books.

Obviously, I'm below average. Slowly, I've come to realize that writing amounts to little more than a nice hobby. And it is nice; don't get me wrong. I like creating something out of nothing, I enjoy escaping to an imaginary world that might not be all roses and rainbows, but it generally beats my actual existence. I love building an entire story around little more than a character's name. The challenge of writing keeps my synapses firing.

Trouble arises when a hobbyist starts taking it all too seriously. When her self-esteem comes to rely upon some measure of success. I fell into that trap. What's odd is that it took a few years before I did. When I first self-published, the concept of sales didn't cross my mind. True, I thought once or twice, "Wouldn't it be neat if someone bought a copy?", but I hardly expected that to happen (and it didn't). That never bothered me. I was proud of myself simply for having done it. 

Because I enjoy technology and creating, I set up an author website that no one visited, but really, I only did it for myself. It was fun to update it and pretend that someone other than me was reading my latest news and observations. 

I never checked for book reviews because no one was buying my books. For a reason I've forgotten I pulled up New Kaitlyn on Amazon one day and noticed that below the heading it showed "1 rating". What's this? And the review was so nice! That was the first time ever that I considered someone was reading my work and that it wasn't terrible. The good news is that it spurred me on to continue writing. The bad news was that I assumed I could repeat that good fortune. Suddenly I cared about getting readers. Suddenly I started promoting my work.

What came out of all that effort? Absolutely nothing. The harder I tried, the more I failed. That's when I started comparing myself to other authors and I sank lower and lower into despair. 

Lifetime, I've sold 167 copies of all my books, total. My two novels, as opposed to my novellas, have sold exactly zero copies. I tried giving The Apple a little boost a couple of days ago by running a free book promotion, but I've canceled it. There's no point. Its first day found no takers.

Does all this mean I'm a failure? It depends on how one views failure. I'm an accomplished hobbyist. As hobbyists go, I'm pretty good. My other hobbies weren't moneymakers, nor did I expect them to be. That's why they're called hobbies. I did win a three-day resort stay once by submitting a video of a song I'd written and recorded, which used photos I'd taken (another of my hobbies). I suppose that counts. 

If I ever get the opportunity to continue working on Second Chance, I'll approach it with no expectations other than to please myself.

That's what hobbies are for.