So no one told you life was going to be this way

You write a book, it's a marvelous book (in your humble opinion), and then it gets published, whether it's self published or the more traditional route.  You sit back and wait for the accolades to pour in, sure that everyone will recognise your genius (I'm exaggerating for effect here).  What they don't tell you is the agonising wait for reviews.  Because like any new business it's all about reviews.  Good reviews lead to more sales, bad reviews (in your case won't exist of course) not so much.  So you spend your days checking Goodreads and Amazon to see if you've got any reviews.  You cheekily ask your friends who have read the book if they can post a review, you give away copies in the hope it will result in favourable reviews, or as time goes on, any review at all.  And you wait, and wait. Writing isn't supposed to be this, it's supposed to be creating new worlds, and complex flawed characters.  But you learn and adapt and grow into the role, because you have to.  Because the alternative is giving up, which is far too unpalatable.   No one told you life was going to be this way (clap, clap, clap, clap).