What does success look like?

Throwing in the towel

So, recently I’ve been thinking about giving this writing malarkey the heavy ho.

It’s expensive.

It take’s up a huge amount of my already dwindling time.

And I’m not very successful.

I could live with the first two, but that last one…

What’s the point of pouring all your effort and money into something if you’re not seeing the successes that you want to see?

Which got me thinking. What does success (In the context of self-publishing) actually look like anyway?

Some would argue that success is monetary. That once you start to see a profitable return from your labours you have ‘made it’ as a writer.

Others would say it’s cultivating a following. A vast army of rabid readers eager to read the next instalment and hang on your every X post. They leave reviews as glowing as a supernova.

Others still would say the act of creation itself is success. The very fact you have created a world from nothing is the goal and shows that you are a successful writer. Only 1% of people who start out writing a book ever finish after all*

I think one of the main reasons ennui has set in for me, is because I haven’t defined what success as an author looks like to me.

Is it money that I want? Well yes, obviously, but is that the be all and end all of it? Would I be happy if I churned out a hundred books and lived off the proceeds despite them being poor quality? A book on ‘book marketing’ I read recently extolls this as the goal. Write as much as you can as quickly as you can and sell them as a box set. Ten titles at £10 a pop a hundred times is £1000. Keep doing that forever…

Something in me recoils at that.

So, is it acclaim that I crave? Maybe a little. Who wouldn’t want to be the next *insert well known author here* and receive all the perks that’s come from being a household name? Well, me for one.

I’m an introvert (An autistic introvert at that) so people and I don’t mix very well, and they often walk away from interactions thinking, “He’s a bit odd, isn’t he?”

It causes me a certain level of anxiety and stress I could do without. Sitting on a chair while a reviewer or radio presenter asks me about my books would likely see me implode. I’m not one hundred percent sure I’d give the ‘right’ answers. It’s always very difficult to tell what people expect of you.

So that leaves the act of writing as the goal in and of itself. Which, to me, seems rather defeatist. I was writing anyway, so… if that’s success, then I don’t need to seek readers? I can just write, hone my craft, then stuff it in a drawer, or maybe vanity publish it for myself.

That feels like walking away from the starting blocks before the gun has even gone off.

So, what is success? Even as I sit here typing, I can’t think of a good answer. I sort of want a mixture of all three. I want the money to write full time and quit my horribly stressful job. I want fans; people who love my work and can’t wait for the next one, but not so many that it gets out of hand.

And of course I want the satisfaction of a job well done. To know that what I have created is the best I can do.

At the moment, I don’t feel successful. Selling my books costs me more than I make back, very few people have read my books and signed up to my newsletter (A sign that they probably didn’t enjoy it all that much), and pressure from social media to hire an editor makes me feel that my work is subpar.

A big red cross on all three.

So, I sit here wondering if there’s really any point in continuing. There are a lot of other things I could be doing with my time.

J

 

*A data point I question considering the vast number of self-published authors on social media.

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