Success Is Not A Sprint... It's A Marathon

We love success stories. The tale of how a couple wrote a lurid indie romance novel, and a year later they're paying off their mortgage, is a particular favorite. We love telling the story about how J.K. Rowling was rejected dozens of times, but when the first Harry Potter book hit the market, it exploded. Even success stories we disapprove of, like the massive success of Twilight or its offshoot 50 Shades of Grey, still fill us with a kind of awe. And envy, because if those books can do it, then why can't we?

Come on... what's a guy got to do to make a little scratch around here?

Something that we tend to forget, though, is that being an author isn't like winning the lottery. You're not looking for one, big payday. You're setting a foundation to erect a money machine that will continue long after you've written this article, that blog entry, or the other novel.

In short, you aren't running a sprint. You're gearing up for a marathon.

It Takes A Lot Of Work To Be An Overnight Success

It's possible for your first book to be a roaring success. You might get snatched up by an agent with an eye for talent, placed with a major publisher, and your book could fly off the shelves. You could get a major movie deal, and thanks to the film's success, your name is known far and wide for this one story you told.

Possible doesn't mean likely, though.

What's significantly more likely is that you'll get a dozen or more rejection letters for your book. You might finally place it with an agent, or a mid-size publisher if you're either lucky, or have connections. Barring fate and friends in the right places, you'll probably get published by a small company, or you'll do it yourself through a self-publishing platform. Then, once your book is actually available, you'll find that no bookstores will put it on their shelves. The mainstream media won't be terribly interested, unless it's a slow news week, and most of your attempts to move copies aren't going to go very well.

Even if you offer a special deal.

You'll sell some books, of course. Everyone sells a few books, but it's unlikely your first book is going to make you a lot of money without a lot of luck, or some serious marketing zeitgeist.

So what do you do when that happens? When you spent more than a year of your life to make something, and it seems no one's really interested in it? Well, you keep marketing it. You also spit on your hands, get a grip, and start working on the next project. And the next. And the next.

A funny thing happens at that point. First, you're working too hard on writing new projects to really worry about your low sales figures. Secondly, your figures are going to start going up a little at a time. That's numbers of sales, reviews, followers, and all the other metrics that matter. Why? Well, if you put one letter in a bottle, you'd be pretty unlikely to get a response. A hundred letters, though? A thousand? People are going to start to notice.

Stack Up Enough Content To Create an Avalanche

There's an old saying that goes, "the best advertisement for your recent release is your next release." That goes for authors who write stand-alone books just as surely as it does for those who write series, because when a reader decides they like your style, they will look you up by name. If you have ten books they haven't read, they'll start working their way down that list. This means that things you already had on the market get retroactively popular as you accumulate new readers.

Don't take my word for it, though.

Vincent Cross is a Chicagoland author, and fellow con rat, and in 2016 he started releasing stories of his own through Amazon's Kindle Direct platform. I asked him what his numbers looked like, and what he said was about what I expected. His best month, when his first release got rolling in November, netted him about $20 in sales. Attention fell of, though, because you can only repost a link so many times. Then, when his next piece went live, the process started all over again.

Every time, without fail, there's a scattering of older titles that pick up reads whenever a new piece hits the market. Because at least a few people who've seen the new stuff want to know more about his body of work. Speaking of which, if you're curious about that cover up above, go take a look at his most recent release The Terror From Titan. And if you like what you see, check out his Facebook page.

Endurance is The Stat That Matters In This Game

Becoming a successful author is a lot like going from being a couch potato to being a bodybuilder. It doesn't happen overnight. Worse, before you see real progress, you're going to have to deal with some serious sore muscles, and peering into the mirror for any evidence that what you're going through is having an effect. A lot of authors will quit after their first, second, or third swing gets them nowhere. Others stick it out, and when they do, something happens. They might not win the trophy, or go down in history as Mr. Universe, but they still get the physique they've been trying for. They still end up with the power, and build, and the prowess they've been working toward this whole time.

Five more pages! Don't give out on me!

If you have a huge archive of work, and you put it out there for people to see, trust me, you will find readers. You might not live in the lap of luxury, and have lines of people waiting around the block to get into your book signing, but mark my words, you'll grow a following.

And who knows? It might be the next book release, the next blog entry, or the next article that garners you widespread attention. But if you don't push for one more rep, then you'll never know.

That's all for this week's Business of Writing post. It might sound similar to what I've said before, but I think it's an important message to remember for all those authors out there discouraged by giving it their best, and getting nothing back. If you like what I'm posting, though, consider showing your support by going to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a patron today! $1 gets you my eternal gratitude, along with some sweet swag in the form of free books. Also, if you haven't followed me on Facbeook, Tumblr, and Twitter, why not start today?

How A Grain of Irritation Builds A Pearl of Story

So, as I mentioned way back when I first started this blog, I'm going to have occasional posts where I get up on my soap box and talk about how I do things. This is one of those posts. So instead of trying to offer general advice on craft and industry, today I'm going to share some information about how my personal process works. So if you've been curious about that for one reason or another, then today is your lucky day.

Let me show you how I make these.

A Lifetime of Literature

In order to be a good writer, you have to do a lot of reading. That's a truism that we all know, and it's one I took to heart early on in life. I checked out whole shelves of the library, bought anything I could get my hands on, and traded for pulps, paperbacks, and even a few classics before all the used bookstores shuttered their doors. I always have a book on CD in my car, and I finish them with some regularity between errands, conventions, and other appointments. In addition to books, though, I am an avid lover of genre films. Sci-fi, fantasy, horror, and others have made up a lot of my entertainment diet over the years.

I've consumed a huge amount of media, popular, obscure, and otherwise. Some of that media has been great, and it's shaped me as both an author, and as a person. Frankenstein and The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde are two titles that come to mind right off the bat. Other stories, though... they weren't so great. In fact, some of them were downright awful. Poorly thought out, badly constructed, rushed, hacky meals that, if someone had physically asked me to eat them, I would have sent it back to the kitchen and demanded something fit for human consumption.

I'm sure you all have a book or two you could think of.

However, while I might learn important lessons in craft from reading books I love, I gain inspiration from books I don't like. Because nothing makes me want to roll up my sleeves and write a good story than seeing someone who did it in a way that stuck its thumb in my eye.

My Brain is An Oyster

Do you know how pearls are made? Well, it all starts with a tiny irritant. A piece of sand, or a chunk of rock, gets pulled inside an oyster, and gets stuck. The meat inside an oyster is sensitive, so it starts excreting a defensive coating. The irritant is coated repeatedly, until it's smooth, and can no longer cause the oyster any pain. By the time it's done, though, the irritant has turned from a worthless, painful speck, into a beautiful work of art.

That's kind of how my creative process works.

I sense you're looking for an example?

If you haven't read The Big Bad II, you really should. Because in addition to a bunch of other great stories, you'll come across a dark little piece I wrote called Little Gods. The basic premise is that Richard Blackheart, warlock for hire, has his services paid for by a woman called the Sterile Saint. She's trying to take the mantle from the Hook Man, Chicago's little god of murder, and she needs help. A mercenary to his core, Blackheart takes the job... but he does it in his own way, and for his own reasons.

This story takes place in what I refer to as my Chicago Strange setting, and a lot of the elements of that setting came from things that frustrated me about the urban fantasy novels that made up the rest of the genre at time of writing. The biggest issue I kept running into as a reader was the way so many authors felt the need to bring in pagan gods, but then to have them act just like any other character, or to put them there for nothing more than name-drop purposes before going back to the (now less interesting) main character. Neil Gaiman's American Gods managed to strike the balance between beings who possessed immense power, and who were also very vulnerable, and very mortal despite that power. That novel made other attempts at turning gods into side characters, from the Dresden Files to the Iron Druid series, stick in my craw. After a while, I'd actually shut books who started name dropping gods if the plot wasn't actually about those gods, and what they were doing.

Why did I do this? Unanswered questions, mostly. For example, if the author declares certain gods exist, then which ones are real and which ones are fake? In worlds where the Abrahamic god is real, and pagan gods are also real, where does the power of one end, and the other begin? If these deities are walking the world, then are they getting involved with things? Does it matter how much someone believes in them, or is that irrelevant to their existence? Why couldn't you think of a deus ex machina that was a little less literal?

So many questions, and so little attention to them, annoyed me. That annoyance got into my head, and made me examine the setting I was putting together. There should be some kind of divine force for this dirty little noir world I'd made, but I didn't just want to rip off real-world religions. The more famous Neil had already done it far better than I thought I could. So I created something different.

I made the Little Gods.

Who are the Little Gods? They're the whispers on the street corners, the legends in the back alleys, and the stories you tell around the campfire. They're the bloody faces who come through your mirrors, the maniacs that prowl lovers' lane, and the lost souls who walk weeping through the streets under full moons. The little gods of the city, as some call them, are urban legends. The patrons of murder, death, sorrow, and luck, all of them waiting and listening as their stories are spread just a little bit further through the cracks of the concrete grapevine.

The Little Gods are not permanent, though. Their mantles can be stolen, and their stories changed. The Hook Man is the little god of murder, it's true, but there were others before him. Bloody Jake, Kate Hatchet, Raw Head Bloody Bones, the Wendigo, and others. The pantheon of this city is ever new, ever changing, and when something grows too old, or too corrupt, it will be torn down by a younger, hungrier rival who wants its place at the top of the heap.

Don't Complain, If You Aren't Willing To Do Better

That's just one example of how my brain sees an idea that irritates something sensitive in my head, until my creative process coats it in enough layers that I have my own version. The irritation I dealt with while attempting to read The Space Wolves Omnibus (I made it 100 pages before I gave it up) led me to pen my story Heart of The Myrmidon, for example, because I wanted to see what would happen if the gigantic super soldiers still had emotions, and could suffer existential crises. I wrote New Avalon: Love and Loss in The City of Steam because so much steampunk that I saw was either saccharine, or involved the authors just sticking some gears and brass on modern machinery, and calling it good enough. It wasn't, so I tried to write something better.

The list goes on, and I have a ton of other projects coming down the way that grew out of a single irritant that just got lodged in my eye. But, by the time I've coated, and dissected, and planned, and written, you know something? Not only do I have a new story (or in some cases a full-on manuscript), but the original irritant no longer pains me. I still won't like the place it came from, but I will no longer feel the need to lash out at it.

Because I already created something that soothes my frustration, which I think will give readers a new take on this idea. And that is the best answer a writer can give to something they don't like.

That's all for this week's Craft of Writing post. Hopefully it helped some folks out there, and even if it didn't, that you found this look into my head to be entertaining. If you'd like to support me, and help me keep the blog going, then stop by The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a patron today. Pledge at least $1 a month and you'll buy not only my everlasting gratitude, but some sweet swag as well! Lastly, if you haven't followed me on Facebook, Tumblr, or Twitter yet, why not start today?

Most Authors Aren't Really "Making It"

I'm going to let you in on a little secret. Authors lie. In fact, lying is our job. We are told to create plausible impossibilities, and to tell them to you in such a way that you believe, in some small part of your mind, that what you're seeing is the truth. We make you invest in this lie we're telling, and when it draws to an end, we make you want us to keep lying to you. To draw that illusion out over another book, and then another, until you can live an entire life inside this place that doesn't exist, with people who never were.

For a penny a page, I'll lie until the world fades away.

This isn't just something we do on the page, though. We do it all the time. If you meet us at signings, or at conventions, or just talk to us on social media, we spin a fiction about who we are. As a result, we tend to look put together, professional, and confident, even if we're anything but. And given that most of us are professional tale-tellers who understand how to create a certain impression, most people who make our acquaintance don't realize something very important.

We are, by and large, broke as shit.

The Simple Secret of Most Professional Artists

Now, I don't claim to know everyone who writes books. I certainly don't know everyone who paints, sketches, sculpts, and animates. However, I go to a fair number of conventions, and I've been a professional writer for over a decade now. So what I can tell you is that, in my experience, artists who are "making it" (here defined as not needing to work a "day job," and making enough money from their art alone to live a comfortable lifestyle) are sort of like unicorns. You may hear about them, and meet people who claim they've met one, but seeing one in person is always a little breathtaking.

We captured one here, a long, long time ago. Rowling, was its name.

The difficulty, I think, is that people who aren't in the industry only hear about successful authors. They hear about J.K. Rowling reaching billionaire status, and they hear about Stephen King buying a radio station out of political spite, or they hear about George R. R. Martin's latest Song of Ice And Fire sales, and they think well surely other authors are still successful. Maybe not millionaire successful, but if you write books, and put them out there, it should be possible to make a living, right? After all, authors like Ben Reeder get bestseller status for their latest books before they're even officially released, so surely it can't be that hard?

That sound you're hearing? That is the laughter of most authors in the world.

For every one author I meet who sells enough books to cover their house payments, I meet a dozen others who feel like beggars, holding out their books instead of wooden bowls or change cups. It's much more common to meet authors who live at home with their parents, who depend on a partner's income, or who have already retired from a previous career, than someone who actually makes grown-up money in this field.

But we can't tell you that, because it sort of splashes mud over our image when we're trying to sell our talent, instead of a sob story.

I'm Not A Unicorn (Just A Workhorse With A Taped-On Horn)

I'm an author. I work primarily in short stories, but I contribute to roleplaying games, I write two blogs, I keep an InfoBarrel archive, and I actively work on a dozen projects at a time. I'm not a 10k words a day sort of fellow, but I spend most of any given day in front of my machine either writing new material, or marketing material I've already put out.

You know, like this book. Go read the free sample now!

Do you know what all of that earned me in 2016? Between independent articles, ghostwriting, book royalties, short story publications, blog ads, and the contributions of my loyal Patreon patrons? The total was about $13,000 and change.

Now, if that was my earnings from any, one source, that would be pretty spectacular. I'd gladly take $13k in book royalties for a year. Or in ad revenue, or in Patreon patronage. But that's the combined total of everything I put out in the whole year, and the royalties for everything I'd put out in the years before that.

On the one hand, that's the way the market rolls. Those who write popular articles, books, blogs, etc. make bank, and those who don't... well, don't. However, I want to let folks know that, in some circles, I'm considered a success story. So the next time you're wandering through an art show, or you talk to an author at a convention, remember that you matter. Your purchase, your review, or even just you becoming a follower might be the pebble that starts their avalanche.

And even if you're not, I can assure you, no author is so successful that they'd say no to one more reader.

That's all for this week's Business of Writing post. Hopefully I've shone a little light into my corner of the industry, and folks here found it interesting. If you'd like to support me and my blog (maybe to make 2017 a slightly better year), then go to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page today! As little as $1 a month can make a big difference, and it gets you some sweet swag as a thank you from me. Lastly, if you haven't followed me on Facebook, Tumblr, or Twitter yet... why not start today?

Literary Polyamory: It's Okay To Write More Than One Genre

Authors have a tendency to define ourselves by our work. We also have a tendency to pick a single fictional neighborhood, and settle into it. Part of that is because we might be working on a series, or we really enjoy one genre, but it's also a marketing concern. After all, readers search for new books based on genre labels, so it's important to establish yourself in your district, and to raise your flag as high as you possibly can if you want to get noticed. Once your name is synonymous with a given genre, then you have reached the top of the mountain.

Can you see me yet? Buy my book!

It works, too. If you make a name for yourself doing one thing really well, then people who are interested in that thing are going to seek you out. But sometimes you may want a change from your usual. Maybe you want to stop telling stories about wizard schools, and pen a series of private detective stories. Perhaps you'd like to set aside your dark fantasy tales and do some grim, gritty dystopian novels. Or maybe you're known for writing modern fantasy stories about monster hunters, but you really want to try your hand at some hard sci-fi.

Well, there's nothing that says you have to stay married to a single genre.

Literary Polyamory: When You Have Multiple, Loving Genres

Nowhere is it written that just because you've written romance, horror, sci-fi, or fantasy stories in the past that you are no longer allowed to write other kinds of stories. All you have to do is have a sit-down with your primary genre, and talk things out. They're usually pretty understanding, as long as you make it clear what you want.

No, really, it's fine. Horror and I have an open relationship these days.

There are a couple ways you can go about this. The first, which is the method I use, is to just write whatever the hell you feel like at any given moment. Seriously, if you take a look at my Amazon Author Page, you'll find horror, sci-fi, fantasy, RPGs, and steampunk all sitting shoulder-to-shoulder on my shelf. It's pretty freeing, but it does present a bit of a marketing dilemma. Because while there are some readers who are more than happy to check out my various publications on the strength of my name alone, aside from those five or six people, readers tend to be picky. Some will read my horror stories, but not the fantasy. Some love the steampunk, but aren't interested in my other sci-fi. And my readers who enjoy my roleplaying game work aren't clamoring to buy my fiction. That's the risk you take when you decide to put one name on all your work.

The other strategy is to create a pen name dedicated to your work in other genres.

All the examples I mentioned earlier are authors who were already seeing success in one genre, but they wanted to do something different. So they decided to put a different name on the cover as a way to help readers separate their work more easily. Stephen King wrote harsh, gritty fiction under the name Richard Bachman, Seanan McGuire writes sci-fi under the name Mira Grant, and J.K. Rowling has written mysteries under the name Robert Galbraith. Sometimes authors try to distance themselves from their pen names, and sometimes they don't, but the result is that a pen name is one more search term that's easier to type in. If you want the author's main genre, search under their name. If you want to see their side project, you've got another term to use.

Never the twain shall meet.

The advantage of this approach is that it's easier on readers' brains. People, in general, like to put things into neat little boxes. They like to read certain genres, and they like it when an author has a certain style, and certain expectations. So by separating your body of work into more easily-digested portions, readers don't have to parse through the whole buffet to find the dishes that appeal to them. With that said, it can be quite hard putting out books under one name, much less under two, three, or more.

Write What You Want

A friend of mine once attended a panel at Wizard World in Chicago that had John Carpenter on it. When it came time to ask questions of the guests, my friend asked, "how do you decide what to work on next?" The answer, without varnish or careful thought was, "what gets your dick hard?"

So many things...

This is one of the most freeing pieces of advice I've ever heard, and I would recommend anyone planning on being a creative professional follow it. Because you can have all the talent, skill, and resources in the world, but if your heart isn't in a project then it's going to show. In fact, that lack of heart might be a book's downfall. So if you need a break from your established genre, take one. Cleanse your palate, and start a project that puts some spring back into your step.

Your readers will thank you for it.

That's all for this week's Craft of Writing post. Hopefully there are some folks who found it interesting, or at least helpful to consider. If you'd like to support me and my blog, stop on by The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to toss some bread in my jar. All it takes is $1 a month to make a big difference, and to get some sweet swag as a thank you present. And, lastly, if you want to keep up to date on my latest posts, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter.

Understanding The Ben Franklin Effect (And How It Can Help Your Career)

It isn't easy maintaining your hustle as an author. Any time you don't dedicate to writing new stories is taken up by marketing, fishing for reviews, talking to your beta readers, trying to get interviews, and the dozens of other activities that keep the engine churning. Sometimes it can be hard keeping up that energy, especially if you aren't getting the kind of results you feel you should. If you've been struggling to get those results, then you might want to explore an odd bit of human psychology known as the Ben Franklin Effect.

Cause it's all about the Benjamins, baby.

What is The Benjamin Franklin Effect?

The basis of this psychological tic goes against everything you know. For example, say you had a coworker you've been at odds with. Ask them if you can borrow a book, or if they'd be willing to help you with a minor difficulty at your desk. Then keep asking them for progressively bigger favors. Psychologically, this co-worker is more likely to do those bigger favors for you specifically because you've already persuaded them to do smaller favors for you in the past.

Look Sharon, I know it's a big inconvenience, but will you kill Dave for me? Thanks.

Most of us treat other people's goodwill like a pool, and every time we ask them for a favor, we take a little goodwill out of the pool. However, according to the Ben Franklin Effect, by asking someone to do you a favor, you're actually building a response in that person.

The weird thing, though, is that by asking someone else to do you a favor, you will get better results than if you were doing them a favor.

How You Can Make This Work For You

The hardest thing for an author to do is to convince people to follow them. You could create the best content in the world, but you need to grab someone by the lapels to make them look at it. However, the Ben Franklin Effect can do at least part of your job for you.

How, you may ask? Well, all I have to do is ask you for a favor. Something small, like asking you to go check out my book New Avalon: Love and Loss in The City of Steam, and to read the free sample by clicking the "Look Inside" option on the cover image. Now, not all of you are going to do that, but those who do have taken a step closer to becoming fans of mine. Not because they like my book, but because I asked them to do something, and they did as I requested.

Seriously, though, don't you want to know what the stories in this book are like?

If you did as I asked, and you liked what you saw, that has made you more positively inclined toward me as an author. I didn't help you, you helped me, but your brain still gets tricked into being more likely to help me out. So if, at a later time in this post, I asked you to follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, or Twitter, you'd be much more likely to do so if you'd already acquiesced to my first request. Even though you following me boosts my numbers, helping me out, instead of me doing something for you. And, if I managed to persuade you to do all those things, then later on when I ask you to consider going to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to donate $1 a month so I can keep this blog running, you'd be much more likely to do it. Especially if I offer you a free copy of New Avalon as a reward for becoming a patron.

Now, maybe you did some of those things. Maybe you did all of them. Maybe you did none of them. The important thing to remember, though, is that the Ben Franklin Effect isn't a one-time thing. Anytime you ask someone to do something for you, that's a new chance for you to tug them into your gravitational pull. So every time someone stops by this blog, I have a chance to ask them one more time to become a follower. If they're already a follower, I can ask them to become a reader. If they're already a reader, I can ask them to become a patron.

And, sooner or later, repetition is what gets the job done.

That's all for this week's Business of Writing post. Happy hunting, and remember, start small when asking for favors!

Do Not Write Accents Phonetically... Seriously, Just Don't

We all write different kinds of stories. Some of us write globe-trotting spy thrillers where secret agents play mind games with shadowy conspiracies. A few of us write about the horrors that lurk off the map, in the pine barrens, or dark, forgotten forests where neither sanity or cell phone service treads. And still others of us prefer whirlwind romances where perfect lovers find each other despite all odds.

No matter what you like to write, this piece of advice is for you. Stop writing your characters' accents phonetically. You're shooting yourself in the foot.

Madame... I have no goddamn clue what you just tried to communicate to me.

Why It's A Stupid Idea to Write Out an Accent

There may be some folks reading this piece who are already planning what they're going to say in the comment section below. However, let me ask you this. If you have a character speaking a foreign language, do you write out their literal words before translating them for your audience? Or do you just tell the audience what the character said?

Chances are good most of you just write the meaning of the dialogue, rather than writing out what someone said in French, or Spanish, or German, then translating it into English for the audience. And you do that for a very particular reason; because you know it's going to be a waste of time for your reader to read the dialogue in one language, then read the same dialogue in a different language. And if they don't speak the first language? Then it's an even bigger waste of time.

Phonetically writing out an accent works off the same principle.

Say it once, say it well.

We've all seen it, and some of us have done it. You have a character with a thick Scott's burr, perhaps. Or someone from South London. Maybe you've got a supporting character from Louisiana, or Texas. The way they speak is as much a part of their character as how they dress, or the skills they possess, and you want to make an impression on the audience with it.

The problem is that when you start writing out an accent, you're putting a hurdle in front of the reader. Because there are no rules for what a truncated word means, so what you write on the page may not be what your reader hears in their head. And there's always the risk your reader won't be able to parse the meaning. This will leave whole sections of your story as unintelligible gibberish which your reader will have to figure out through context.

That's a lot more work than just reading a book where the author conveys the information, and lets the reader keep up with the story.

Add Some Flair, But Be Less Literal

Characters shouldn't all sound the same, but there are better ways to bring across their speech patterns than by hoping your audience can sound out non-standard English. The easiest way, of course, is to simply tell your reader what a character's accent is. Whether it's a gentle Southern drawl, a thick Russian slur, or a clipped, public school accent, readers will get the picture without being bashed over the head with it. You can change up the speaker's word choice, the cadence of their speech, and the slang they use, too. All of this allows you to add unique character to someone, without forcing the reader to ponder over whether or not, "ach," is a real word, a slang term, a spelling error, or if they're just supposed to sound it out the way it's spelled.

Well, that's all for this week's Craft of Writing post. Hopefully it gave folks something to think about. If you'd like to support this blog, and keep my nose to the grindstone, why not drop by The Literary Mercenary's Patreon Page? All it takes is $1 a month to get yourself some sweet swag, and to keep me in business. Lastly, if you haven't followed me on Facebook, Tumblr, or Twitter yet, well, why not start?

How Much Impact Does AdBlock Have on The Creators You Follow?

Let's be honest, most of you use AdBlock in one form or another. Some of you might not even know that there are usually about 4 ads on a given Literary Mercenary article (two embedded in the right column, and two that comes in from the wings to the left and right). Now, those ads might clutter up the screen a bit, but they don't pop-up over the text, and they aren't sneakily trying to squirm under your mouse. You have to go outside the borders of this post to put your cursor on them.

But I get it. I really do. No one likes ads, and if you can put up a wall that stops you from ever having to look at them, why would you make an exception for just one page?

AdBlock is like a phalanx. One hole, and it crumbles.

Well, if you're not overly concerned with the people who make the content you're enjoying, then there is nothing I could say to convince you to be selective with your AdBlock. However, if you want to support the people who make the things you like (even if it's for the selfish reason that they'll keep making more stuff if they're supported), you might want to consider making an exception or two.

Why? Because I think you sincerely underestimate the number of people who block ads, and how big of an impact that has on creators.

Herd Immunity, and Making Money in The Age of The Internet

Since we all had high school science, we should be familiar with the idea of herd immunity. When you vaccinate an individual, they receive a weakened version of a disease, and it allows the body to fight off the infection by developing antibodies. It is, in a sense, the training wheels for how to fight a particular condition. This stops the person from getting sick when the real version of that disease comes along. Pretty basic stuff.

Of course, some people's bodies cannot deal with vaccines because even the weakened version of the disease will overwhelm them. So those people who cannot be vaccinated depend on all the other members of the herd to get vaccinated, and to act as a barrier for the disease. Because if there's a layer or three of people who won't get a disease, then the vulnerable people behind them will be protected as well.

What about when people stop vaccinating?

Herd immunity only works, of course, if everyone who can vaccinate does it. The fewer people who do, the more gaps you find in your protective barrier. Then diseases can slip through, and run rampant. Which is why there are diseases that had nearly been eradicated in the United States now surging back to prominence (and killing a whole lot of defenseless people who should have been vaccinated).

What does that have to do with the ads on the blogs, videos, and other pieces of content you ingest on a daily basis? Glad you asked!

Picture a constant stream of people flowing into a stadium. Perhaps there's a sporting event taking place, or there's a political rally, or the circus is in town; whatever is going on, people want to see it. What's even better is that there's no cost for admission. All you have to do is walk through the gate, and take a pair of glasses. These glasses don't stop you from enjoying the concert, or hearing the latest rallying cries, but they do allow you to see the ads posted along the walls, and up on the screens. For every person who sees those ads, the arena gets paid a crowd attendance fee. This lets them keep putting on shows without charging anyone for tickets.

Now, one or two people might decide not to take a pair of these glasses. They get the same show as everyone else, but they aren't distracted by all those pesky ads. As long as most people take a pair of the glasses, though, the arena is still going to be able to keep doing its thing. Especially if it's filling seats to capacity. The problem comes when too many people don't take the glasses, and thus aren't counted for the purposes of attendance. They don't see the ads, it's true, but even if you pack the seats, the arena only gets paid as if it had fifty people coming to the show.

That might not be enough attendance to make a profit, and if it keeps up for long enough the arena might have to shutter its doors.

In this metaphor, the arena is the website you're viewing. Putting on the glasses is your willingness to view the ads that actually pay that website's content creators and staff. Because wearing the specs might be inconvenient, but isn't it a small price to pay for getting all this great stuff for what amounts to "free," even while the creators whose work you enjoy are still getting paid, thus allowing them to keep making stuff for your enjoyment?

How Bad Is AdBlock, Really?

Maybe you think I'm exaggerating. After all, there are still plenty of people who don't block ads, so you shouldn't feel obligated to make exceptions in your ad-free life. On the one hand, you're right. Viewing ads is entirely your choice, and if you have the tools not to see them then you have the ability to skip past those annoyances. But choosing to do so is not consequence-free.

Though it might feel like it, from where you're sitting.

As a for instance, one of the ad programs I use is InfoLinks. I get a daily update from the company that tells me how many impressions I've had, and what I've earned in terms of ad revenue. I have two blogs on that account; this one, and my sister blog Improved Initiative.

Now, I've had this ad program for about two years and change now. The problem I kept experiencing was that the traffic Blogger said I was getting did not jive with the numbers I was being given by InfoLinks. We're not talking small discrepancies, either. More than half my traffic was missing from my daily reports. So I set up a Google Analytics account to track it from a third source, hoping it would explain the difference. According to Google, Blogger was right. So why is it that when an article like The Tale of The Black Samurai (Yes, There Really Was One), posted on my other blog, earns over 2,000 views on its own, but my daily views for the entire blog come to barely 560 hits on InfoLinks?

Because that is the number of people who use AdBlock software. Blogger and Google Analytics count how many people came to my blog that day, while InfoLinks only counts the number of people who saw my ads. It isn't just a few people sitting in the stands enjoying a free show; it's the majority of the people who walk through the doors. Because on that day where InfoLinks said about 560 people saw my ads over on Improved Initiative? I had over 3,500 hits that day. So instead of earning a couple bucks, I was given a single, shiny dime.

That was one day. Taken over a year, that kind of traffic would earn me over $600 if everyone was viewing my ads. In reality? It takes me about 15 months to earn $50.

Why Are You Laying All This Guilt On Me Because I Hate Ads?

While it might seem like I'm trying to lay blame on people here, I'm not. If you have the ability not to watch ads, you are welcome to use that ability. However, it is also a fact that by not allowing those ads to stream, you are taking money out of that creator's pocket. By withholding your view, they can't count you when it comes time to settle up with their ad revenue at the end of the month.

And that has an impact.

Judging from the numbers, only about 1 in 6 people who view Improved Initiative actually see my ads. Here on The Literary Mercenary, it's only about 1 in 8 (my most recent post generated about 450 views, but InfoLinks only counted about 55 of them).

Jumping those hurdles is like entering the pole vault, mistakenly thinking you're supposed to do a high jump. It isn't going to happen.

What Are You Comfortable With?

This is one of those times where I ask you, the reader, to look at a situation, and make a serious judgment. Is your comfort more important than the artist you like making a living? Because it's easy to think to yourself, "they don't need my views. There's plenty of other people looking at those ads." Which is a variation on, "I don't need to vaccinate my kids. Everyone else will do it."

Well, they're really not.

Well, what do you want me to do about it?

All I'm asking is for you, and all the readers who come across this post, to ask themselves what they're comfortable with. I, and the hundreds and thousands of other artists and creators across the Internet, depend on you for a paycheck. The reason we put ads on our blogs, or our video channels, or our art pages is because we still need to get paid, but we don't want to beg for money from everyone that passes if we don't have to.

Sadly, we sort of have to.

Now, there may be some readers who are much more comfortable just putting money into a creator's tip jar instead of watching their ads. This allows them to say, directly, that they like this person's work, and they want to see more of it. If you're that kind of person, and you don't want to deal with my ads, then I'd ask you to please stop by The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a patron. I don't ask much, and if you pledge at least $1 a month then I'll also give you some sweet swag as a way of saying thank you.

Alternatively, if you're a fan of a creator, you should buy the stuff they put out. I write books, like the steampunk noir short story collection New Avalon: Love and Loss in The City of Steam. I put out new stuff with a fair amount of regularity, too, so you should consider checking my Amazon Author Page if you like my work, and want to support me. Read a book, leave a review, and tell your friends; I wouldn't feel bad at all about someone who chose to do that, but who didn't want to put up with the hassle of my blog's ads.

If you don't want to do those things, though, and you come back to a creator's page to devour all their content with every new update, then it might be time to make an exception for their page on your AdBlock. You don't have to, of course, but if you don't, then what are you going to say when that web comic artist has to start doing one update a month instead of four because she had to get a 9-5 job? Or when that gaming blogger cuts posts from twice a week to once a week to focus on other projects you're not interested in, but which comes with a paycheck attached to it?

It's all about the money, and you're the one holding the purse strings. You get what you pay for... literally, as well as figuratively.

That's all for this week's Business of Writing post. Apologies if it felt like I was taking a truncheon, but this is an issue that still rages online, and it's one a lot of people aren't aware they're participating in every day. If you want to stay on top of all my latest releases, then why not follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter?