Writing is one of those rare areas (I hesitate anymore to call it a "profession" or a "business") where you can repeatedly put product out there that doesn't sell, in the vain hope that it does.

Like in a normal store environment, you'd inventory products and track what sells & doesn't sell. If something sells, you put more of that out there. If it doesn't, you don't -- indeed, if something craters in terms of sales, you may opt for a clearance sale to get rid of inventory for deadweight products.

Given how few people read for pleasure anymore, books are increasingly the sort of products people just don't/won't buy.

Despite dismal sales, whether trad or indie, a writer is cursed (?) to keep putting books out there, just in the hope that *something* might eventually catch the eye of readers.

As someone who's only meagerly sold over the past 20 years, it's really tough to keep putting books out there. I can, but I have no illusions that anyone will read them, let alone rate and/or review them.

If I weren't stubborn and determined to let some of my stories live, I'd have given up a decade ago. For whatever reason, I'm not a writer who has enough of an audience. I tried to write across genres, but each genre (or subgenre) was another arid landscape.

The few readers who liked my work were too few and far between. It wasn't for lack of effort on my part. I really tried.

With waning energy and a broken writerly heart, I'll try to force myself to wrap up the various multibook serials I have, including:

THE SHUTTERCLIQUE: 4 novels
THE PLASTIC FANTASTIC: 2 novels
THE SAGAS OF IRTH: 3 novels

When those are done, maybe one or two more singletons, and then I'll probably stop. What's the point? It ends up being an exercise in masochism.

There'll be a substantial (if almost totally disregarded) body of work I'll have left behind, if someone's inclined to ever read it.

I tried (and failed) to make a name for myself as a writer over a 20-year span of time. One can't say I didn't make the effort.