Failcess or Succure or What Goes Up Invariably Does Not Stay There Forever (Forever Being A Relative Term)
On May18th (yes, I missed it), my e-book author rank dropped to its lowest point... ever, and, in the weeks since, I have continued to explore new depths of e-book non-sellinghood. At its pinnacle, my author rank was #20,954 (the smaller the number the better, like #1 being the best, ya know?) on December 9th, 2012, while now I am enjoying a bask in brackish Stagnationville at #192,524.
I know, I know, you ask, "What about those poor people at #1,000,000 or, gosh forbid... #2,000,000! What about those unlucky souls?", but I still nod my head slowly and consider that I was once so close to, and yet so far from, the Sun That Is An Amazon Bestseller List that I required Teflon sunscreen to defend against the glare and binoculars to make out the fine print... I was once close enough to smell it, but not close enough to taste it! What? Yes, yes, your question about those people at #2,000,000 who dusted off a notebook of middle school poetry and slapped it up on Amazon with the dewy-eyed expectation of becoming the next overnight Maya Angelou, but their mothers were the only people who bought their book and so their author rank sank faster than Jimmy Hoffa's cement galoshes into the murky waters of Lake Superior on his ill-fated trip to find the Edmund Fitzgerald and settle all his gambling debts in one grand swoop...?
Are you insinuating that I will end up there--someday--clutching a tatty copy of Blood Roses and a bottle of Wild Rose, drowning my sorrows as my author rank ticks up/down like some psychotic, backwards odometer of success or lack thereof? Well, perhaps... but at least I can laugh, no matter which way I'm going, and hopefully, so can you :)
I know, I know, you ask, "What about those poor people at #1,000,000 or, gosh forbid... #2,000,000! What about those unlucky souls?", but I still nod my head slowly and consider that I was once so close to, and yet so far from, the Sun That Is An Amazon Bestseller List that I required Teflon sunscreen to defend against the glare and binoculars to make out the fine print... I was once close enough to smell it, but not close enough to taste it! What? Yes, yes, your question about those people at #2,000,000 who dusted off a notebook of middle school poetry and slapped it up on Amazon with the dewy-eyed expectation of becoming the next overnight Maya Angelou, but their mothers were the only people who bought their book and so their author rank sank faster than Jimmy Hoffa's cement galoshes into the murky waters of Lake Superior on his ill-fated trip to find the Edmund Fitzgerald and settle all his gambling debts in one grand swoop...?
Are you insinuating that I will end up there--someday--clutching a tatty copy of Blood Roses and a bottle of Wild Rose, drowning my sorrows as my author rank ticks up/down like some psychotic, backwards odometer of success or lack thereof? Well, perhaps... but at least I can laugh, no matter which way I'm going, and hopefully, so can you :)
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