Not the New Adventures of Sherlock Holmes on Amazon's Kindle. It has been one of the worst experiences of my pretty shitty life.
I put my all into it. I worked harder at this than at anything I've done before.
And it still has not sold more than 30 copies.
Despite the four and five star reviews. Despite giving away 20 or so copies for reviews/promotional purposes. Despite following all of the advice successful eBook authors give. Despite buying an ISBN number. Despite joining the damn Goodreads authors forum to ask short questions and get what turned out to be worthless advice (like "get a professional editor -- they're cheap at $1000 a book.")
I love writing. However, I can't make a plugged nickel at it. It's become a lost cause. I don't even know why I'm bothering to write this blog post. Not only has my blog failed to sell, I can't even find work writing online content anymore. What happened, Internet? Why did you break up with me?
Writing has become a nightmare. It's like my unrequited love for horses. Me owning a horse or even going for one last ride is never going to happen. I'm too poor. Same as with trying to make a living at my writing. Years ago, the Philadelphia Inquirer estimated that an author needs to spend around $10,000 of their own money in order to have any chance of making a profit from a single book.
I'd love to write another eBook, but what's the point?
Meanwhile, I've been taking care of my crippled mother. She pays my bills. I don;t get a salary or spending money from her (hello, IRS) but she pays my bills. Any money I do make goes into paying my medical insurance (which has announced it will be dropping me on New Year's Day 2016). If I break my back writing, the blood-sucking insurance company gets it.
When do I start to get any benefits from my hard work?