So you’ve written a fantastic masterpiece, but don’t know what to do because you don’t have the background, pedigree, connections, contacts, or bribe money to get it published?

As the eBook and Print-on-Demand revolution marches forward, you seem to get the sense that YOU, TOO might be able to GET YOUR BOOK OUT THERE?

Don’t fucking bother.

First, the game is rigged. Rigged by companies like Amazon who control a majority of the eBook market share, and are continually pressuring their writers into joining KDP exclusivity (Essentially shutting you out of 1/3 of the eBook market on Kobo, iTunes, Nook, etc.) whereupon you find yourself with diminished returns, royalties based on pages read versus copies leant, and a portion of a “pool” of money that equates to about a half-ounce of water.

If you decide to go all out and avoid being Kindle-Exclusive, well, Amazon just won’t market your book, and will let it get buried in their internal searches. Good luck finding something amazing when they’re already prioritizing big publishers, name authors, KDP exclusive authors, and people who have money to fucking burn on “Amazon marketing” or “Facebook Promotion” or any other of a dozen 1% return-on-investment advertiser services out there.

That’s right: Paid advertising only amounts to a 1% return. Which means only 1 of every 100 people who view an ad will actually buy the product.

So, now you’re just another of a bazillion other wannabes out there, struggling to do the self-promotion thing, pimping out your book and trying to generate sales that will actually amount to three-figure royalties when OH LOOK! YOU GOT REVIEW!

And HEY! Look how shitty and assholish the reviewers are! Every single spellling and grammar error, anyone against the Oxford Comma, anybody just SLIGHTLY peeved about the formatting, everyone with a bone to pick or an agenda are SLAGGING YOUR BOOK, which only FUCKS YOUR MEDIOCRE SALES OVER ALTOGETHER! HOW ABOUT THAT?

Then you get a month or two of really insane royalties. Just enough to give you hope, just enough to keep you excited…just enough to make you think that maybe you can quit your bullshit day job in an economy ruined by the fucking Baby Boomers and the Technology Revolution and make a living writing, you see that the next six, seven, eight, nine, ten, fifteen months of royalties go down,


DOWN like Kim Kardashian on a Black cock.

And then of course there’s the problem you now face trying to find time to write: YOU WORK ALL DAY so maybe if you’re lucky you can shit out a paragraph once every four hours. YOUR FREE TIME is split between family; friends; God help you if you have children because those little darlings will eat up ALL your time; household chores; errands…and by the time you reach some actual downtime, if you’re not so fucking exhausted you go to bed without showering or brushing your teeth for the third day in a row, well then you’ve got to go online and social-media blitz your book so your royalties won’t look THAT pathetic, even if they will STILL be pathetic, because so many other fucking idiots out there are doing the same fucking thing YOU do.

Suddenly, you find yourself with only a small window of time in which to ACTUALLY write, and you’re so tired, discouraged, frustrated and alienated with a system designed to exploit your months and years of hard work, emotional anguish and effort and give you Sweet Fuck All in return.

What’s the point?

Just write your little fucking stories and keep them to yourself.

Save yourself the misery of trying to be something other than what you were always destined to be: a fucking nobody, poor, anonymous, invisible. One of seven billion.

 Take it from someone who’s been there.

Quit before it destroys your fucking soul.