When I read things like this piece at Writesex.net (great new blog btw), I get a little depressed for my work.
That means there are many times more ebook reading devices and people reading them than ever before, and ebooks have a growing market that should continue expanding for years to come.
Again, that market is still tiny compared to print books. 3000 to 5000 copies is a big initial sale for an $8.99 ebook (unless by Dan Brown or some other giant of the print bestseller lists) while the initial sale of, say, an $8.99 paperback is more like 60,000 to 100,000 copies.
Okay the first paragraph is hopeful for me. The second is sad for my little books. A few hundred have looked at my books. No one has sad anything- good or bad. I take that as good. I think.
Today I’m feeling like this (quote comes from Chasing Amy, Kevin Smith’s best film)
Nope. I’m happy my stuff gets read at all. There’s very little market for hearts and flowers in this spandex- clad, big pecs, big tits, big guns field. If I sell two issues, I feel like John Grisham.
I’ve also realized that I’m just coming into publishable fiction writing. I’ve been writing since I was 13. I never really finished a novel until my first NaNoWriMo. ANd three before I wrote something I felt worth editing.
I read the other day that fiction has a 10 year apprenticeship. 10 years of serious writing, which I don’t think I had as a teenager. So I have a few years left before I really get there.