I feel honored, by the way, on being the sixth one of their new batch of offerings. But I have to be careful here. I've been writing for 55 years. I could overload this new establishment with my 'stuff' in a blinking of the eye . . . so you know . . . slow down!
Now the real chore begins. How in hell do you get the word out that Smitty is here in a damn good story, one which everyone who has read it has offered a 5-star review, and not go stark raving mad doing it. How do you pump up its recognition factor on a limited budget? (I'm the guy with the limited budget . . . as if you didn't know already)
It's true. The number of writers who make a full time living off nothing but writing their own material can probably be counted on ten fingers. Well . . . maybe add another couple of hands worth of fingers to it . . . but you get the picture. The vast majority of writers have to keep their day jobs in order to remain solvent.
Add to the fact that, at last estimate, there were about a BAZILLION writers out there who think they are just as good as any of the Top Sellers in their subjective genres, and you add to the picture of abject poverty It's kind interesting, really, to think about it; there is a boat load of TALENT in this world. There really is. But LUCK? A writer has to be more LUCKY than talented in order to succeed in his chosen profession.
But LUCK my friends, is a finicky bitch. You never know who she is going to smile upon with approval and tap on their shoulder her ephemeral gifts.
So, as a writer, you've got to become creative in your recognition efforts. Every writer I know is networking on the social sites to get the word out. Networking everywhere. Hoping that somewhere . . . somehow . . . things will click and their LUCK will change for the better.
And/or they're at one bookstore or another physically huckstering their wares. I've done that. Don't mind doing it. But where I live, fella, the bookstores I need to sell my wares are 90 or 120 miles away . . . one way . . . to get there. (yeah, when I tell you I live out out in the boondocks in a state that's just pretty well empty of people, I mean it) So that costs money to get there and back.
So what the hell. I think I'll just write for another 55 years and wait for LUCK to eventually meander down the trail and stumble across my dead carcass. It's gotta happen sooner or later.