For years, I've been extolling the virtues of self-publishing ebooks, and raging against the supposed tyranny of the Big 6.
But my secret shame is that my agent has been consistently submitting my novels to them, which I only self-publish after they get rejected for being poorly written crap. Then, to mask my pain, I self-publish that garbage and criticize those editors who rightfully discarded it, because I'm petty and spiteful.
The truth is, I haven't made millions of dollars self-publishing.
Since 2009, on more than forty self-pubbed titles, I've only earned a combined total of $1782.
That's just $33 a month. Not even enough to buy a nice dinner.
But now I can finally speak the truth, because I recently signed a three book deal with a Big 6 publisher for more than 10 million dollars.
The Big 6 are the ONLY way to succeed in the publishing world. If you're self-pubbing, you're just deluding yourself. You CAN'T make it on your own. Don't be an IDIOT.
Now I'm really rich, and all you poor saps self-publishing can go find some other sucker to slavishly follow around. I'm meeting Scott Turow for drinks later, and we're going to brainstorm some ways to stop Amazon from ruining the industry.
All those screen shots showing my earnings? Photoshopped.
All that bragging about my fabulous sales? Lies.
All my carefully constructed arguments about the failings of the industry? Straw men and misdirection.
My conversations with Barry Eisler? Barry is actually a male model that I've paid to be my online sock puppet.
Blake Crouch? He's just another one of my pen names. The guy portraying him is really a surf bum in St. Pete.
This is my very last blog. See you on my nationwide bookstore tour, suckers!
Also, April Fool!