An Expletive-Laden Rant

Yesterday, a newsletter arrived in my inbox.  And I'll admit, I did what I usually do with newsletters - I skimmed through it.  But I read enough to seriously harsh my day.

I won't say whose newsletter it was.  You probably got a copy in your inbox, too.  Cuz it's by someone who's like 'in the know' and junk.

And what did it say?  Well, basically, it said that if you don't already have things like reviews and buzz and bling and stuff, that you shouldn't bother marketing.  Not just an encouragement to avoid it, but an out-and-out 'don't do this at all' thing.  You won't get anywhere anyway, so why bother?

Probably the last thing I needed to read yesterday.  Like the last... thing... I needed.

Like all of this shit isn't hard enough.  Like I'm not already hitting my head on a rock every damn day while still trying to stay positive.  Some fancy pants shithead is gonna drop a boatload of negativity in my inbox?

Well, you know what?  Fuck him and the horse he rode in on.

Yeah, getting sales is fucking hard.  But at least I'm trying.  I sold 27 books off my marketing efforts last week.  That's 27 books I wouldn't have sold if I hadn't paid for marketing.  The ad paid for itself and made me a little scratch over and above that.  That's a win in my ledger.

So, who the fuck does he think he is telling struggling authors not to bother marketing their goddamn books?  I mean, where does he get off pushing that kind of crap on unsuspecting, and perhaps close to giving up, authors?  Asshole.  Somewhere out there, there could be a low-list author getting ready to slit their proverbial wrists because they were already at the end of their rope and he lit it on fire. 

Maybe he thought he was saving some of us the heartache by discouraging us and thereby saving us from failure?  Well, don't do us any favors, bud.  It's hard and we know it, but we don't need you rubbing our faces in it.  I had a couple therapists and a social worker (for brain injury therapy) once upon a time who tried to save me from the chance of failure.  I fired them all and hired new ones.  If I'd listened to them, I'd be selling plants at a nursery right now.  Feh.

Or is it that we struggling wee authors might maybe be taking a tiny little piece out of his precious pie?  Up yours.  Take your money and your sales and leave us the fuck alone.  We aren't hurting anyone.  I can pretty much guarantee we aren't taking marketing space that would've gone to you.  So, stifle yourself.

All I want is to sell books without some numbnuts trying to step on my throat.  Without the bestseller telling his readers that any book priced at $2.99 or less has to be crap.  Without a boatload of bestsellers trying to shut big-bad Amazon down.  Without this jerkstick telling me to quit advertising until I'm 'worthy' of it.

Yeah, marketing a book with few reviews is an uphill battle through fire ant nests covered battery acid.  I don't need someone standing in the paradise zone eating bon-bons and stabbing at me with pointy sticks, as well.

So, I spent most of yesterday afternoon depressed as hell.  And then I wrote this post.  Now, I'm just pissed.  Maybe some good came out of that stupid newsletter after all and the fire that's been mere embers will finally flare into a conflagration.

It doesn't matter.  He's dead to me.  Onward and upward, folks.  And don't let anyone tell you not to do what you think is working for you.  Market the hell out of your books if you think it's doing some good.  Keep writing.  Keep publishing.  Keep moving forward, however you get the job done.

And remember, every book you sell is one more person who is reading your work.  I got 27 new opportunities this past week.  Yay.

* In the cool light of morning, I admit it's entirely possible I took this the wrong way, but I'm leaving it up.  This rant helped me.  Maybe it'll help someone else, too.

And if you know the name of the newsletter person, I left it off on purpose, so don't try saying it in comments cuz I'll just not approve the comment.  K?