“Often people attempt to live their lives backwards: they try to have more things, or more money, in order to do more of what they want so that they will be happier. The way it actually works is the reverse. You must first be who you really are, then, do what you need to do, in order to have what you want.”
—MARGARET YOUNG, FROM JULIA CAMERON’S THE ARTIST’S WAY
Let’s talk about money.
I remember my husband and I used to play a wonderful game. We’d pretend we’d either won the lottery or the game show Survivor. I preferred the lottery, since we had to do nothing else but buy a ticket and sit on the couch, watching our lucky numbers come up. I also knew I’d never win Survivor. I’d be voted off at the first tribal council.
We were kind of poor but able to pay the mortgage, current bills, and food bills. We didn’t have savings. A thousand dollars might as well have been a million back then, and tax time was the best time of year, because we always got a refund.
Later the refund would go to paying off credit card debt, which just sucked.
When The Marriage Bargain took off, I made money. A lot of money. And when the book sold to Simon & Schuster at auction, I made over a million dollars—just like in my dreams.
This deal propelled me into an entirely new universe. My boys had been using furniture donated by my dear friends. Back then, one dresser fell apart when you tried to open a drawer, but we couldn’t afford to replace it. Our house was tiny and slowly deteriorating around us.
I’m not telling you this for pity. There are tons of people who were way worse off, and I always appreciated whatever I had. I’m trying to make a point that I went from living extremely sparingly to having a million dollars in my pocket all because of my book.
We celebrated. We sold our house. We built a brand-new one like we’d always dreamed about. We bought a new car. And we gave away money to people in our family who needed it, which felt just as good as spending it on ourselves.
Let’s do the math, shall we? First, the tax man takes 40 percent. Then your agent takes 15 percent, which he or she truly deserves for brokering a great deal. That leaves you with $450,000, which is still an insane amount of money. Now, don’t forget that because of your success, you have had to hire an accountant, a lawyer, and either an assistant to help with the massive amount of work you just got hit with, or a marketing firm. You’ll want to deduct those fees from now and the future.
You’ve made history. You won the lottery. And as that book is earning publicity and praise, you’re wrapped up in it so tightly, it’s pretty damn hard to write. Suddenly, you’re not a midlister, quietly working on your next project, or an unknown who can huddle in her cave and play in total anonymity.
Now, you must produce a second book. A follow-up. If that first book was part of a series, it’s even scarier. The second has to be great, or at least hold up to the first one. And now you have a team of people on your side to—theoretically—help you write, taking care of other stuff you once never had to worry about.
But now the writing has changed. Because you’re writing for a big audience. You’re writing for your new editor, who spent a cool million or more on your stuff, and you can’t let her—or anyone else—down. You now need to fund your new house and still pick up the dinner bills when you’re out, because success is attached to your name.
Once again, this isn’t a whine fest. I’m not going to lie. It’s awesome to have your book skyrocket to the top. Even with all the stress, I loved every single moment the ride lasted. I soaked it in to the highest extreme, because I’m a person who knows lightning doesn’t strike twice. Anything could change, so I intended to enjoy myself, and I did.
But after you come down off that high, you’re back in your office. And honestly, it doesn’t matter if you were facing a wall and now you’re looking at a beautiful acre of green, rolling grass. Your muse doesn’t care. You’re still alone in a room trying to write your book. The difference is that now the voices in your head aren’t just those of your characters—they’re the voices of everyone who counts on you to continue your success.
Maybe the next book or two will be just as huge. Maybe it’ll be only moderately successful. Maybe not.
You’ll need to learn new skills after hitting it big, like letting go of expectations. That includes focusing on sales. You can’t assume you will always make a killing in sales just because people now know you. When the beginning of my Searching For series published, I honestly believed the books were some of my best work. But readers were still stuck on my first series and didn’t seem to realize that this new series was a spin-off. My sales sputtered with the new series.
I lost many sleepless nights worrying about everyone’s expectations and how I was failing them. I had to maintain the new house now, dazzle my publisher, and sell books, while also taking on more projects than ever before.
I learned nothing lasts forever, but I wouldn’t want it to. I like exploring new series and bringing freshness to readers. I had to realize that making the USA Today best-seller list and not The New York Times is not a failure.
Success means different things to different people. It also changes like a moving target, depending on your current situation. For me, success once meant quitting my day job to write full-time. Then it became hitting a best-seller list. As time passed, success began to morph into a combination of stellar sales, name recognition, steady releases, and big money.
It was exhausting.
And I was the source of my own exhaustion.
The funny thing about being successful is how the ground beneath you doesn’t feel as solid anymore. This makes absolutely no sense, since technically I achieved financial security and discoverability—two huge elements of every hardworking author’s dream. Yet, I still couldn’t control any of my books’ successes. I couldn’t make them hit a best-seller list, and I couldn’t stop any of them from making the top of the chart one day and sliding into total obscurity the next.
That’s just something you have to learn to be okay with. The good and bad, up and down, success and failures. If you want to be a career author, you will still feel vulnerable, afraid, and sick to your stomach even with success.
Even with a million dollars.
I learned one valuable lesson that helps me get through it all. I focus on the work. I focus on my writing, day in and day out, and when I struggle, I dig deep and write even more. That’s how I put the voices to rest. I know I’m not a one-hit wonder or a fraud. I know I’d still be writing if I hadn’t made that money, because it’s a calling and a gift.
I also learned to be professional. I changed from the kind person who said yes to everyone, signed contracts without fighting for better clauses, and agreed to write too many books in too short of a time into the type of person who thinks like a businesswoman and makes hard decisions. This means saying no. This means sometimes hurting feelings. I always remain kind, but now I ask questions. I decline offers. I’m careful and much more protective of my time, because as many wonderful people as there are, there are still people out there who, like vampires, will drain your creative well dry.
My hope for everyone reading this book?
That you make a million dollars.
Just know there are both positives and negatives that come with everything in this life. You will need to be willing to look at the world—and your career—in a different way. Understand that you might not be on top forever, unless you are Patterson, Roberts, King, or one of the other top sellers. I’m not saying you can’t hit every time. I’m saying the odds are against it, but it’s the flexible, hardworking professional who will be in this for the long-term.
Think of the tortoise and the hare. Man, it’s fun to win the medal and have everyone celebrate you. But when the cheers disappear, and it’s you alone with your book, you need to have the foundation and stamina of the tortoise.
Then you’ll earn more than a million dollars.
You’ll earn some damn peace and happiness.
Your book has gone to auction and you just made a million dollars. Imagine it. Create the moment in your mind. Think about what book it would be, and have fun with the daydream. Now, write in your journal everything you would do with this money. What would you write next? Do you have career goals that reach beyond your book hitting big? You should. Goals keep you firmly grounded to the present instead of daydreaming of the future. If you do the work, you may get this opportunity. Better to be prepared for it rather than shocked and scrambling to build a platform, write another book, or do the thousands of things that are required when you’ve achieved success. Do it now and be prepared for greatness.