Tag: indie publishing

Fisking 1-star reviews bashing AI

They say that authors should never respond to one-star reviews. That’s generally good advice, and for most of my career, I’ve studiously kept it. However, I’ve recently begun to get a new kind of one-star review that baffles me—reviews that essentially say: “the book was good, but it was written with AI so I hate it.”

Here’s an example:

This book is written with AI. Incredibly disappointing as a reader to give a book/author a chance and then to get to the end of the book only for the “author” to then announce the AI card. If I could give zero stars, I would for this alone. I also didn’t appreciate that this use of AI was not announced until the ending Author’s Note. If “authors” are going to cut corners and put their name to computer-generated mush, they should be willing to put that information on the front cover. The book struggled to find its pace, and some parts read as though they were written for a child’s short story competition while others felt as though the writer was snorting crushed up DVDs of Pirates of the Caribbean as they wrote.

Let’s break it down:

This book is written with AI. Incredibly disappointing as a reader to give a book/author a chance and then to get to the end of the book only for the “author” to then announce the AI card.

Yes… but I can’t help but notice that you got to the end of it. In other words, you finished the book. Also, from the way you tell it, it seems that you didn’t realize the book was written with AI until you got to the very end. So based on your own behavior, it doesn’t seem that quality was the issue.

I also didn’t appreciate that this use of AI was not announced until the ending Author’s Note. If “authors” are going to cut corners and put their name to computer-generated mush, they should be willing to put that information on the front cover.

Okay… but if my book was just “computer-generated mush,” why did you finish it? And why were you surprised when you learned that it was written with AI-assistance?

I can understand the objection to books that were written solely with AI, with little to no human input. But that’s not how I write my AI-assisted books. Instead, I outline them thoroughly beforehand, write and refine a series of meticulously detailed prompts (usually using Sudowrite), and generate multiple drafts, combining the best parts of them to make a passable AI draft. And then I rewrite the whole thing in my own words, using the AI draft as a loose guide with no copy-pasting.

Why would I go through so much trouble? Because of how the AI drafting stage gives me a bird’s eye view of the book, allowing me to identify and fix major story issues before they metastasize and give me writer’s block. Before AI, that’s where 80% of my writer’s block came from, and it often derailed my projects for months, so that it took me well over a year to write a full-length novel. But with AI, I’m no longer so focused on the page that I lose sight of the forest for the trees. So even though generating and revising a solid AI draft adds a couple more steps to the process, it’s worth it for the time and trouble that it saves.

That’s the way I use generative AI in my writing process. But there are many other ways—and I hate to break it to you, but most authors use AI in one way or another. If an author uses Grammarly to fix their spelling and grammar, should they disclose that on the cover? If they use MS Word? What if they used a chatbot to brainstorm story ideas, but went on to write it entirely themselves? Should that also be disclosed?

The book struggled to find its pace, and some parts read as though they were written for a child’s short story competition while others felt as though the writer was snorting crushed up DVDs of Pirates of the Caribbean as they wrote.

Yes… but again, I can’t help but notice that you finished the book. And after you finished it, you were surprised to learn that it was written with AI. So with all due respect, I’m going to call BS on your objections here. I think you only decided you hated the book after you learned it was written with AI, and you came up with these objections after the fact. Whatever.

I think a lot of the people who object to AI are really just scared and angry. They claim to have principled, ethical objections to the technology, but few of them follow through to implement that principled stance into every area of their lives. After all, if you use Grammarly, Google Docs, or MS Word, you are using generative AI just as surely as I am using ChatGPT and Sudowrite. For most people, the ethical objections are just a smokescreen for their general fear of change. They’re fine with embracing the convenience the technology offers them in their own personal lives, but they insist that everyone else—including me—live according to their principles, no matter how inconvenient or difficult it may be.

As an example of that, check out this one-star review:

The arts! Whether visual, performance, or literary—my haloed experience has been the act of creating and sharing a connection to the profound or sublime. Why, then, would any artist—musician, dancer, sculptor, painter, or author—offload (abdicate) the act of creation to AI? Process versus product. Mr. Vasicek included an afterword for this volume, describing his workflow and the efficiency of collaboration with AI: a 6,624-word day! another volume completed! Mr. Vasicek obviously owns the skills to weave rich character development and scenes. Perhaps Mr. Vasicek’s AI collaboration explains why these characters, the plot, the narrative—and subsequently, the entire story— are so flat and undeveloped. Although his lead male shows some undeveloped promise, the mother’s too-oft used “dear” and “my love,” and the daughter’s clutching at her mother’s apron are cringe-inducing. Perhaps Mr. Vasicek might eschew AI-assisted writing, seeking a future of quality over quantity.

Let’s break it down:

The arts! Whether visual, performance, or literary—my haloed experience has been the act of creating and sharing a connection to the profound or sublime. Why, then, would any artist—musician, dancer, sculptor, painter, or author—offload (abdicate) the act of creation to AI?

Because for some of us, writing is more than a “haloed experience”—it’s an actual job. It’s what we do for a living. And if you want to do your best work, you need to use the best tools. We used to build houses with plaster and lath and wrought-iron nails, using hand tools and locally-sourced lumber. But today, you’d be a fool not to use power tools and materials sourced from a building supply store, or your local Home Depot. If that makes your building experience less profound or sublime, so be it.

Process versus product. Mr. Vasicek included an afterword for this volume, describing his workflow and the efficiency of collaboration with AI: a 6,624-word day! another volume completed!

I’m not gonna lie: there is a certain degree of tension between art-as-product and art-for-art’s-sake. But the two are not mutually exclusive. A house can still be a beautiful work of art, without taking as long as a cathedral to build it. Likewise, a book can still be a beautiful work of art, without taking as long as Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings.

Again, you’re trying to pidgeon-hole me into your “haloed” idea of what a “true artist” should be. Which would make it absolutely impossible for me to make a living at this craft. If all of us writers followed that path, there are a lot of wonderful books that would never get written. And I doubt that the overall quality of the books that do get written would rise.

Mr. Vasicek obviously owns the skills to weave rich character development and scenes.

Now we get to the interesting part. I checked this reviewer’s history, and this was the only review they’ve written for any of my books. Therefore, I can only assume that this is the only book of mine that they’ve read. But if that’s the case, how do they know that I have “the skills to weave rich character development and scenes”? If the book I wrote with AI was pure trash, why would they say that I obviously have some skill?

Once again, we’ve got a case of “I enjoyed this book, but it’s written with AI so I hate it.” In other words, it’s not the book itself that you hate, so much as the way I wrote it. You object to the idea of authors using AI, not to what they actually write with AI.

Perhaps Mr. Vasicek’s AI collaboration explains why these characters, the plot, the narrative—and subsequently, the entire story— are so flat and undeveloped. Although his lead male shows some undeveloped promise, the mother’s too-oft used “dear” and “my love,” and the daughter’s clutching at her mother’s apron are cringe-inducing.

Finally, some specific and legitimate criticism. And while I do think there’s a degree of retroactively looking for faults after enjoying the book, I’m totally willing to own that these criticisms are valid. This particular book (The Widow’s Child) was one of my first AI-assisted books, and I was still learning to use these AI tools as I was writing it. I did the best I could at the time, but if I were to write it today, I could probably do a lot better, smoothing out the annoying AI-isms that you’ve pointed out here.

But the book is currently sitting at 4.4 stars on Amazon (4.1 on Goodreads). And the other readers do not share your objections. Here is another review, pulled from the same book:

Since waiting a year or more to read the next book in a sequel is hard on my stress levels, I’m liking this AI. It means talented authors like Joe Vasicek can churn out an outline faster. Then he can bring in his talented ideas, such as the content of this heart-stopping adventure of The Widow’s Child, to fill out the nitty gritty in record time.

Clearly, it’s not the case that all (or even most) readers feel the same way about AI as you do.

Perhaps Mr. Vasicek might eschew AI-assisted writing, seeking a future of quality over quantity.

Why can’t we have both? Why can’t we have quantity with quality? Why can’t AI make us more creative, instead of replacing our human creativity?

This is all giving me flashbacks to the big debate between tradition vs. indie publishing, back in the early 2010s. Back then, the debate was between purists who said that indie publishing would destroy literature by flooding the market with crappy books. Indies argued that removing the industry middlemen would create a more dynamic market that would give readers more choices and allow more writers to make a living. Both were right to some degree, and both were also wrong about some things. In the end, we reached a middle ground where “hybrid publishing” became the norm.

The same kind of debate is happening right now between human-only purists and AI-assisted writers. The biggest difference is dead internet theory. In the early 2010s, the ratio of bots to humans on the internet was still low enough to allow for a lively debate. Today, there’s so much bot-driven outrage on the internet that most of us are just quietly doing our own thing and avoiding the debate.

That same bot- and algorithm-driven outrage is driving a lot of peole to be irrationally angry or afraid of AI. With that said, I can understand why so many people are upset. And I do think there are a lot of valid criticisms about this new technology, including its environmental impact, copyright considerations, how the models were trained, and the societal impact it’s already starting to have. But if we don’t have an honest and good-faith debate about these issues, we can’t solve any of them. And we can’t have a good-faith debate if one side is coming at it from a place of irrational anger or fear.

In any case, I find it super annoying when readers who clearly found some value or enjoyment in my books turn around and give it a one-star review merely because they don’t like how I used AI. And at the risk of going viral and soliciting more one-star anti-AI reviews, I think its worth voicing my views on the subject and opening that debate. So what are your thoughts on the subject? How do you feel about using AI as a tool to help write books? Can we have quantity with quality? Can AI help us to be more creative, not just more productive? What has been your experience?

Fantasy from A to Z: X is for eXpectations

What sort of books are fantasy readers looking for today? What are the expectations that readers have for the genre?

Overall, the fantasy genre is growing. Sales are up, both in traditional and indie publishing, and the big names in the field (like Brandon Sanderson) are doing quite well. It’s clear that the fantasy genre as a whole is robust and healthy.

When you break it down by publishers and subgenres, however, things start to look a little different. Romantasy is dominating the traditional publishing world, but most of it is little more than pornography for women, dressed up with fantasy trappings. And because of how traditional publishing now relies on a few big blockbusters to make most of their earnings, romantasy is sucking all of the oxygen out of the room, making it much more difficult for debut and midlist authors in the other fantasy subgenres.

In the world of indie publishing, litRPG has begun to demonstrate some staying power. It was the new hot thing back in the early 2020s, but it’s attracted enough attention and developed enough of a following that it has become a major subgenre that is likely to endure for some time. I could be wrong about that, but from what I see, that’s where most of the innovative authors and whale readers (ie >1 book per week) are focusing their attention these days.

But because of the way that the algorithms tend to govern the indie publishing cycle (and the way that indie publishing has unfortunately turned into a zero-sum, pay-to-play game with online advertising), the rise of litRPG in the indie publishing world may very well be sucking all of the oxygen out of the room in the same way that romantasy is sucking it out of the traditional publishing world. 

Both subgenres are also very gender-biased, with women gravitating toward romantasy and men gravitating toward litRPG. This reflects the broader social and political trend of men and women going separate ways, across a whole host of different metrics. So as the gender divide continues to widen in society generally, that will probably reinforce the divide between romantasy and litRPG, creating a positive feedback loop (or death spiral, depending on how you look at it).

Sword and sorcery continues to do okay, and has probably been given a boost by the recent release of Conan the Barbarian into the public domain. But most of sword and sorcery got siphoned off into grimdark back in the 00s—in fact, you could say that sword and sorcery reinvented itself as grimdark. And while grimdark has resisted the feminization of literature, standing as one of the few remaining bastions where male readers continue to feel at home, I think grimdark has already passed its peak. In a post-pandemic, post-Trump world, I think most readers are hungry for books that are less nihilistic and more uplifting.

Which brings us to epic fantasy. While Brandon Sanderson continues to dominate this subgenre, with his massive kickstarters and huge book releases, it’s debatable whether his readers are hungry for more epic fantasy, or just for more Brandon Sanderson. He’s kind of a subgenre all to himself. Recent streaming adaptations like Wheel of Time and Rings of Power have failed miserably, and Game of Thrones has fallen almost totally out of cultural significance, with George R.R. Martin’s failure to finish the last book (and Patrick Rothfuss’s failure to finish his own series) becoming something of a meme.

In fact, the failure of these two big-name authors to finish writing their books may have struck epic fantasy a mortal wound. Because of how they have been burned, a large number of epic fantasy readers are now unwilling to commit to a series until after it is complete. But very few authors can afford to write a truly epic series and release the whole thing at once. It takes several years to write a series like that—and what are authors supposed to do if the first one flops? 

In other words, debut epic fantasy authors are damned if they do, and damned if they don’t. If they release the first book by itself, it will probably sink into obscurity before they can write and release the next book. And if by some measure of hard work and tenacity they manage to write a whole series and hold back from publishing until they’re ready to release it all at once, if the first book still fails to sell, they’re SOL and all that hard work was for nothing. 

This is also why traditional publishers are so unwilling to publish a new epic fantasy series from a debut or a midlist author. A bestseller like Larry Correia might be able to dip his feet in that pond (and do quite well—I highly recommend his Sons of the Black Sword series), they won’t do that for anyone else. Which is fine, except that indie publishing epic fantasy is just as hard—arguably more so.

For these reasons, I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that Patrick Rothfuss and George R.R. Martin have done more to kill epic fantasy than they have to grow it.

But this may actually have created an opportunity for those authors who are willing to drive into the smoke. After all, there’s much less competition if you can manage to break in and build a decent following. But how much hunger is there for epic fantasy, compared to other fantasy subgenres? And how can a newer/midlist author reach them, without a big push from a publisher or the algorithms?

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Fantasy from A to Z: U is for Unicorns

If you were expecting a post on unicorns or other mythical beasts, I hate to disappoint you again, but that’s not what this is going to be. Instead, I want to write a bit about that most mythical of all human creatures: the full-time fiction writer.

Okay, perhaps we’re not that mythical. After all, Brandon Sanderson estimates that of all his students over the years, perhaps as many as 10% of the ones who set out to become full-time writers actually make that dream into a reality. I sometimes wonder: would Brandon count me as one of those 10%? Should he? The answer to that is… complicated. 

One of the first questions I get whenever I tell people that I’m a writer is “oh, wow—how is that working out for you?” Which is really a roundabout way of asking how much money I make, and whether I’ve been able to turn it into a full-time career. I am not (yet) a major bestselling author, and the closest thing I’ve had to a breakout thus far has been my (now unpublished) Star Wanderers novella series, which managed (mostly by accident) to hit the algorithms correctly back when a permafree first-in-series with lots of direct sequels was the best path to success. Then the publishing landscape changed, the algorithms shifted to favor pay-to-play advertising, and my books got left behind.

I will admit that if it weren’t for my wife’s income, I wouldn’t be able to pursue writing full-time. As a family, we’re following a path very similar to my Scandinavian ancestors, where the wife tends the farm while the husband goes off a-viking. In other words, my wife has the stable, traditional career that provides our family with some degree of security, while I have the more risky career that has the potential to catapult us into transformative levels of wealth and prosperity. We’re doing just fine, but it does sometimes feel like my Viking ship has yet to land ashore.

Because here’s the thing: something like 90% of the money in book publishing (after the booksellers and publishers and other middlemen take their often-exorbitant cuts) goes to less than 1% of the writers who actually make any money (and something like 30% of kindle books never sell a single copy). 

For every Brandon Sanderson, there are thousands—perhaps hundreds of thousands—of published authors who write on nights and weekends while holding down a day job to pay the bills. My writing contributes enough to the family budget to justify pursuing it, but if I were still single, I would need at least a part-time job.

Indie publishing has created a lot of opportunity for authors to make a career out of their writing, and there are many successful indies who are making a decent living at it. At the same time, indie publishing has also massively exploded the number of books that are published, so the proportion of full-time to still-aspiring authors is probably about the same (and may have actually tilted the other way). 

In recent years, it has very much turned into a zero-sum pay-to-play game, especially with advertising. From what I can tell, most authors lose money on advertising, and most of those who are making money are spending upwards of $10,000 each month to make $11,000. The elite few who learn how to successfully game the algorithms to blow up their books often put their writing on the backburner to launch their own companies or provide publishing services, leveraging their expertise to make a lot more than they otherwise would.

The algorithms are changing books in some very strange ways. If J.R.R. Tolkien or Roger Zelazny or Robert E. Howard were writing today, would they be able to make it in today’s publishing environment? 

Howard’s Conan stories would either have to be a lot sexier, or else would have to include the sort of tables and character stats you find in LitRPG. His covers would also be a lot more anime, and show a ridiculous amount of cleavage (which he actually might not have had a problem with, judging from some of the old Weird Tales covers). 

Zelazny’s Chronicles of Amber would all be far too short to make it in Kindle Unlimited—to make it in that game, you have to have super long books that max out on page reads, in order to maximize advertising ROI so that you can outbid your competitors. And if you aren’t winning the pay-to-play advertising game, your KU books will sink like rocks. Also, Zelazny took way too much time between books. Gotta work on that rapid release strategy, Roger.

As for Tolkien… hoo boy, there’s an author who did everything wrong. Decades and decades spent polishing his magnum opus, with a short prequel novel that falls squarely in the children’s category (totally different genre) as the only other fantasy book published in his lifetime. I suppose he could have serialized Lord of the Rings, except nothing really happened in episode 1: A Long-Expected Party. Certainly not anything that would adequately foreshadow all the dark and epic battles to come. Perhaps if he followed a first-in-series permafree strategy, and just gave away Fellowship of the Ring for free… and then made The Hobbit his reader magnet for signing up for his email list… maybe that could have worked? After all, there’s always BookBub…

I jest, of course. Each of these authors’ books became classics, not because of their marketing strategy, but because they hit the cultural zeitgeist in exactly the right way. But is it possible for an author to do that today without also getting a boost from the algorithms? Or do the algorithms have more power to shape our culture than anything else? Those are disturbing questions, and I honestly do not know the answer.

And then there’s the question of AI, which is massively disrupting all of the creative fields. In the interest of full disclosure, I am actually quite sanguine about generative AI, and have already been working to incorporate it into my creative process. I’m not a fan of AI slop, but I don’t feel particularly threatened by it. I decided a long time ago that if AI ever became good enough to write an entertaining book, it still would never be able to write a Joe Vasicek book. That’s insulated me from most of the doom porn out there.

Right now, there is a HUGE fight happening between authors like me who are embracing AI, and authors who treat it all as anathema, and have vowed to never use any sort of AI in any of their books (except Grammarly, of course, because… reasons. And Microsoft Word. And…) Frankly, it reminds me of the big debate between indie and traditionally published authors, back before self-publishing had lost its stigma. The biggest difference is that the level of online outrage has been ramped up to 11, mostly as a result of the social media algorithms (which weren’t as robust or as powerful back in the early 2010s). I suspect that we will ultimately settle on a “hybrid” approach, much like we did with publishing, but the sheer level of vitriol has made me wonder about that. 

On the reader end of things, though, it seems like most readers don’t really care if a book was written with or without AI assistance, so long as it’s actually a good book. Which means that there is a real opportunity for authors who 1) know how to tell great stories, 2) have already found and honed their voice, and 3) know how to strike the right balance between the AI and the human elements. 

Which describes my own position almost perfectly. Over the last fifteen years, I’ve read, written, and published enough books that I have a pretty good handle on what makes a great story. I’ve also honed my voice well enough that I can write in it quite comfortably. And as for the balance between AI and human writing, I’ve been working hard on that since ChatGPT burst onto the scene in 2022. Half a dozen books and about a million words later, I’ve learned quite a lot about how to best strike that balance.

Will AI replace authors entirely, making this particular unicorn extinct? I don’t think so. But AI may radically change our concept of what “books,” or “writers,” or “writing” really are. A long time ago, I realized that even if AI became good enough to write a decent book, it would never be able to write a Joe Vasicek book. Only I can do that. Whether or not that’s worth something is up to the readers to decide.

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Thinking about switching Gunslinger books to J.M. Wight

Right now, I’m a science fiction writer who occasionally writes fantasy. I want to transition to being a fantasy writer who occasionally writes science fiction. But I also have a pen name (J.M. Wight) for more religious-themed books, since there are a lot of science fiction readers who have a serious ick with that.

As I set things up for this transition, I’ve been looking at the books I’ve already published and trying to decide what to do with them. The Gunslinger Trilogy is one series I’ve been looking at particularly hard. It’s kind of an edge case, because the religious themes become more pronounced as the series progresses. One of the more consistent themes in one-star reviews is that people don’t like the “Mormon” stuff in the later books, such as the part where the main character meets with the missionaries (and ultimately gets baptized), or the alien twist in the last book that’s pulled right out of the Books of Enoch/Jasher/Moses.

If I’d planned out the whole series before I wrote the first book, I probably would have published them under my J.M. Wight pen name for that reason. But the first book was a straight-up space opera, with minimal religious themes. It was only after I’d published the first book (under my main Joe Vasicek name) that I wrote the next two books and decided to throw in the more religious stuff. And while I was careful to write it in such a way that the books never come out and say whether all that religious stuff is actually true, the fact that it’s in there at all has turned off some readers who weren’t expecting it.

The trouble is that the first book has a lot of profanity in it, and religious readers tend to be just as icky about profanity as sci-fi readers are about the religious stuff. Even more so, in fact. So before I make the switch, I will probably have to make an extensive rewrite to tone down the swearing and make it more palatable for that audience.

It’s a fairly common mistake, especially among inexperience writers: you write the first book for a certain audience, but as the series progresses, the later books appeal to a different audience, betraying some of the expectations of the first audience. When taken to extremes, it’s the sort of thing that torpedoes careers and forces writers to reinvent themselves. So given that fact, I’m kind of surprised that these books have done as well as they have.

What do you think? Should I switch them to my J.M. Wight pen name, editing them to remove the profanity and lean into the audience that isn’t turned off by religious themes in their science fiction? Or should I keep them as they are?

A fascinating take on Brandon Sanderson’s Winds of Truth

Really interesting take on the publishing industry. This is politically incorrect, but I think it’s related to the way that publishing has become dominated by liberal women. The Nonsense-Free Editor has a lot of great videos about that.

There are lots of great books in the indie publishing scene that are not “Potempkin villages,” as this BookTuber calls them… but how is one to find them? When we finally solve that question, there will be a resurgence of great writing and great art.

Here’s my new pricing strategy

A few weeks ago, I had an impression that I needed to revisit my overall pricing strategy, not just for ebooks but for audiobooks too. So I sent out a few feelers, trying to see how other indie authors are pricing their books, and also ran a reader survey (thank you to everyone who participated in that, by the way!)

After all of that, I’ve put together a new pricing strategy that I will probably keep over the next few years, inflation notwithstanding. It’s not that much different from what I was doing before, but it is worth sharing with you, especially if you’re on a tight budget and you want to know the best way to pick up my books. So let’s go through each format, and I’ll share my plans.

Paperbacks

Until now, I’ve basically just been pricing all my paperbacks at a flat $14.99 USD, with equivalent price points in each of the major currencies. For shorter books, this meant that I took a hefty profit. For longer books, a hefty loss.

Moving forward, as I move to distribute all of my titles through Ingram via Draft2Digital, I am going to price my paperback titles such that I take at least a $2 profit through wide distribution. For most titles, this means they will fall somewhere in the $12.99 to $15.99 range. Some of the larger books may go as high as $18.99. This does not include shipping costs.

As always, if you purchase a paperback on my store, I will sign and personalize them for free if that is what you want me to do. Not all of them are up yet, but I hope to get them all up there over the next few weeks.

Audiobooks

Until now, I’ve been pricing my audiobooks on the lower end of the price range that human-narrated audiobooks can command, which means that most of them were either $8.99 or $16.99. That was just the list price, though, and I frequently ran month-long sales where they were all discounted to $2.99. And of course, if the ebook was already free, I also made the audiobook free.

But this was before AI-narrated audiobooks began to come out on the major platforms in large numbers. Now, it looks like one of the biggest trends in the book world is the explosion of AI-narrated audiobooks. I forget which podcast I heard it on, but some industry experts are predicting that within 10 months, most of the audiobook market will consist of AI-narrated audiobooks.

Obviously, it costs much less to produce an AI-narrated audiobook vs. a human narrated audiobook. In fact, without AI, none of my titles would be available in audiobook format, since they are all AI-narrated. And after asking around some of the author communities I follow, it appears that most authors are pricing their AI-narrated audiobooks closer to their ebooks, rather than their human-narrated audiobooks.

What was more surprising to me was to learn that of the readers who took my reader survey, those who listen to audiobooks felt fairly strongly that an AI-narrated audiobook shouldn’t cost more than the ebook. So it’s not just the authors who are driving this trend, but the readers as well.

With that in mind, and the data I gathered on ebook pricing points, I have decided to make the list price of all of my digital books, whether ebooks or AI-narrated audiobooks, priced at $4.99 moving forward. That’s just the list price, though: occasionally, I will run a $2.99 sale, where either all my audiobooks or all of my ebooks are discounted to the $2.99 price. And for certain titles, like my Sons of the Starfarers books, I plan to keep them on a $2.99 sale permanently, since it’s a nine book series and that’s what they were priced at before. Also, if the ebook is free, so is the audiobook.

And as always, if you buy an audiobook from my online store, you automatically get the ebook free as well.

Ebooks

Before, I used to price my ebooks at either $2.99, $3.99, or $4.99, depending on the book. In general, first-in-series books were permanently at $2.99, while the later books were all at $4.99.

Moving forward, however, I plan to keep all of my ebooks (except for the Sons of the Starfarers books) priced at $4.99, regardless of where they fall in the series, though I will occasionally run $2.99 sales across the board.

(The exception to all of this is box sets, which I plan to keep at $9.99. At this time, I only do box sets for the ebooks, and I don’t want to price those so low that they undercut my regular titles. I may discount them during a $2.99 sale, but I haven’t yet decided on how much.)

My goal with this is to make it so that price isn’t a factor in deciding which book to buy next. If they’re all the same price, then it shouldn’t make much of a difference—and if $4.99 is too much for your budget, then you can just wait until I run the next $2.99 sale, which should happen approximately every third month or so.

As always, you can get $1 off of the ebook with the coupon code “buy direct” when you purchase it from my store. This only applies to $4.99 books, however—if the book is currently on sale for $2.99, the coupon does not apply.

$2.99 sale November-December 2024

With all of that said, I am currently running a $2.99 sale on all of my ebooks and audiobooks, from now to the end of 2024. If you’ve wanted to read my books in ebook or audiobook format, but have ever balked at the price, now is a great time to pick them up! I have somewhere north of 20 novels out right now, and in the coming months, I plan to publish a lot more (which is another reason to run $2.99 sales, so that my readers don’t have to spend upwards of $100 to read all of my books).

Just finished my last short story

So I just finished writing what may be the last short story I ever write, at least for the forseeable future. Years from now, I may scribble out a quick short for a charity anthology or something, but unless someone actually commissions me to write one, I’m done for now. Instead, I’m going to focus all of my attention on writing novels, since that’s where all the money (and readers) are.

This last one was fun: a post-apocalyptic tale in a wintry wilderness, where the scout of a tribe of survivors comes across the “Ark Facility” built by a bunch of wealthy elites to freeze themselves in stasis while their workers maintain the facility, and wake them once civilization has been restored. But of course, the plan goes to hell, and the only person left is the daughter of the last caretaker, all the other workers having abandoned the aging facility rather than trying to maintain it. So the scout convinces the girl to come with him, and to leave the facility in the care of the elites after waking them up. That’s when the drama begins.

I wrote the rough draft of this story with AI, back when I was just starting to climb the learning curve for AI-assisted short stories. Because of that, it was rather frustrating in parts, and I ended up throwing out almost everything that I generated. It still turned into a +8k word novelette, though I may be able to cut it down to 7.5k or lower with a couple of revision passes.

But frankly, I don’t much care whether it ends up as a novelette or a short story, because I’m not going to bother submitting it anywhere. I’ve come to the conclusion that none of the short story markets for science fiction or fantasy are worth submitting to, because they are all commercially non-viable and exist primarily as (typically short-lived) passion projects, stepping stones for people trying to carve out a career in the book world, or as vehicles for clout-seeking authors and editors to get their names on the ballots for the Hugos and the Nebulas.

Also, I’m a straight white male conservative, which automatically makes me anathema to every (and I do mean every) pro-paying science fiction short story market. The 1,000+ rejections that I’ve accumulated over the course of my career give me authority to say that—specifically, 1,062 rejections out of 1,255 submissions, according to my lifetime stats on The Submission Grinder (and most of those 193 non-rejections were submissions that never received a response). Thank God for self-publishing.

Since I’m not yet at the point where I can consistently write and publish a novel each month, I will continue to republish some of my old short story singles on the off-months when I don’t have a novel. I was doing the novel-a-month thing for the first few months of 2024, but needed to take a break after the third Sea Mage Cycle book to recuperate, re-evaluate, and rework my writing process. Starting in 2025, I will probably start publishing a novel every other month, and ramp up the process until I’m doing a novel every month. At that point, I’ll retire the free short story singles for good.

It’s been a good run. I’ve written and published about 60 short stories, some of them with semiprozines and anthologies, but most of them indie. I do think it’s a good way to get started when you don’t have much of a following, and I attribute a sizeable chunk of my own following to my consistency in putting out new content for my readers each month. But the money is all in writing novels, since that’s what readers are actually willing to pay for—and given the current state of short fiction, I can’t say I blame them.

AI-Assisted Writing: Why Write a Novel with AI?

One of the things about AI-assisted writing that has really surprised me is how resistant other writers can be to the very idea of using AI in their creative writing process. Here in Utah valley, there’s a large enough writing community that we occasionally get together for an informal meetup over lunch, and every time I’ve brought up the subject, I could almost see the fists come up. At one of our local writing conventions, Writer’s Cantina, I was on a panel about AI-assisted writing… and there were maybe only four people in the audience (and one of them was my wife!)

It’s a shame, because I really do think that generative AI is going to transform the way we write everything, from emails and reports to blog posts, long-form essays, and yes, even fiction. It’s only a matter of time. AI is gradually being worked into the apps and programs we all use to write, and as people become more comfortable with it in other aspects of their lives, they’re going to start using it to write fiction—and that’s okay! Almost all of the resistance is based on ignorance and fear, not a clear-eyed understanding of how these AI tools actually work.

As someone who remembers the days when “self-published” was very much a dirty word—in fact, many people considered it the kiss of death to ever having a professional writing career—it very much feels like we’re repeating the whole tradpub vs. indie wars of the early 2010s, just over the issue of AI-assisted writing. The biggest difference is that the internet is 10x more toxic than it used to be, probably because of how polarized and partisan our world has become in general. But other than that, it’s like we’re only a year or two away from an AI-assisted author having a massive breakout and proving that you can write with AI and be a success, the way Amanda Hocking proved that you can self-publish and be a success.

So why should writers consider writing a novel with AI? One of the things I hear a lot from other writers is “I enjoy the writing process too much to ever consider using an AI to help me write.” Which is fine, I guess, if you’re writing just for yourself and maybe your own family. But if writing is your career, or something you hope to turn into a career, why wouldn’t you want to experiment with AI-assisted writing? After all, if you refuse to even experiment with it, how can you possibly know that it won’t improve your process in some way? And if it can improve your process and give you a competitive edge, isn’t that reason enough to try?

Here is what I’ve found after a year and a half of experimenting with AI-assisted writing:

In the old days, it would take me anywhere from six months to several years to write a novel. Now, I can write a novel-length work in about 1-3 months.

Before, I would hit a patch of writer’s block in the middle of almost every project, leading to weeks (and sometimes months) of agonizing frustration and crippling self-doubt. Now, because of AI, I can step back far enough to see the forest from the trees and identify all of the major story issues before they become creative blocks—and generate a rough draft in about a week.

Before, whenever I would come up with a great new story idea while in the middle of another project, I would have to suppress my enthusiasm for that idea or risk having it derail everything I was working on. Now, I finish my projects fast enough that that generally isn’t a problem—and even if it is, it only takes a day or two of chasing that idea to satisfy the creative itch, and either trunk the idea entirely or turn it into a new project to work on later.

Before, my biggest limitation was my ability to turn ideas into words. Now, with a few clicks, I can generate all the words I could possibly need, and the biggest limiting factor is my ability to stay true to my own creative vision.

It’s a completely different paradigm, with a totally new skillset and a very long (and at times somewhat steep) learning curve—and that’s probably the real reason why most writers are so reluctant to experiment with it. But is it really worth it? The only way to find out is to make the leap. For the last 18 months, I’ve been making that leap, and even though I have yet to feel like I’ve mastered AI-assisted writing, I’ve already seen enough to believe that it is.

Navigating Woke SF, Part 5: Where do things stand now?

So it’s been almost exactly two and a half years since I posted my first “Navigating Woke SF” blog post, where I demonstrated an anti-conservative bias in the responses I was getting to my traditional short story submissions, and predicted a cultural backlash against the woke moral panic of our times. Those predictions are now playing out all around us, from the Bud Light boycott to the last few Disney/Pixar bombs to the unlikely success of movies like The Sound of Freedom, which is still showing in theaters in my area.

To no one’s surprise, the institutions like Disney that have already been captured by the woke intersectional left have been tripling- and quadrupling-down on their woke insanity, as we see in movies like The Marvels and Disney’s live action Snow White. Which has opened up some wonderful opportunities for conservative-minded publishers and creators to outflank them, as we see with the Daily Wire’s competing release of Snow White:

Indeed, the anti-woke backlash in the mainstream culture has gotten so bad that South Park recently lampooned it with an episode where all of their characters were replaced by “diverse women.” I didn’t watch the full episode, but the clips I saw from it were absolutely hilarious—and directly over the target.

So with all of that brewing in the cultural mainstream, where do things stand in our particular little corner of it? Namely, science fiction publishing and the traditional short story markets?

Well… let me tell you a story. It begins earlier this year, when I decided that I wanted to take some of the money I’ve been earning with my indie-published book sales and subscribe to one of the traditional science fiction magazines. For a writer like me, it’s a legitimate business expense, and it seemed like a nice way to support the genre, as well as build my science fiction collection.

I decided to go with Clarkesworld, because even though they are woke, they seemed to be less woke than most of the other major magazines. The particular brand of diversity they like to emphasize is on publishing non-US authors, especially Chinese authors, who tend to write stories that are neither woke nore anti-woke, which can be a real breath of fresh air. Seriously, there is some really fascinating science fiction coming out of China these days, which is definitely worth checking out, and Clarkesworld, to their credit, tends to publish a lot of good Chinese authors.

So I subscribed to Clarkesworld magazine and began to receive a physical issue each month, which I added to my currently-reading pile and slowly read through. But I began to notice something disturbing with each issue: namely, that even if the story itself wasn’t particularly woke, there would always be some woke element thrown into it. For example, the story might be a weird western adventure tale, but one of the characters would randomly mention their LGBTQ wife. Or the story would be a far future space opera, and one of the characters would casually drop that they were trans, even though it had nothing to do with the story.

At the same time as all of this was happening, I discovered this interesting podcast where a former Dreamworks animator discusses how he left the company after learning that the Dreamworks executives were explicitly trying to use their movies as a form of social engineering for the woke agenda. The mechanism for this social engineering was what I found particularly interesting: namely, that they would associate the movie’s villain with some specific aspect of culture/religion that they were trying to villify, and associate the good guys with those aspects of the woke agenda that they were trying to push. In the example given in the podcast, they literally had the villain shout “the family is the basic unit of society!” at the climax of the story.

According to the former Dreamworks animator, this is especially true of sequels for popular franchises and IPs. For example, Wreck-it Ralph is a really fun and well-told story about a “bad guy” from a video game trying to become a hero, and becoming one when he sacrifices himself to save a misfit character from another video game, who turns out to be that video game’s queen. Really charming, really good story. But Wreck-it Ralph 2 throws all of that out of the window, turning Ralph into a simp and Venelope into a liberated girl boss, and crapping on all the traditional Disney princesses at the same time. The message was laid on pretty thick, and the result was a garbage movie.

Which made me wonder about Clarkesworld, because that particular social engineering technique is EXACTLY what I was seeing in almost all of the Clarkesworld stories. The thing is, I couldn’t tell if it was deliberate or unintended. I can totally believe that the Clarkesworld editors would tell their authors “we love your story, but we want you to add just this small woke element to it, and then we’ll publish it.” There are enough desperate authors out there who would probably do exactly that, if it meant receiving an acceptance from a pro-paying market after getting so many disheartening rejection letters.

But personally, I think it’s more likely that the authors are throwing in these elements themselves, without any explicit direction from the editors. That is, the authors are so desperate to be published by these woke traditional magazines that they’re not only self-censoring the stuff that they don’t think the editors will like, but they’re adding woke elements just because they know it will increase their odds of getting accepted. Which to me, is just sad.

Honestly, I wish that the more conspiratorial option were true, and that Clarkesworld has a devious social engineering agenda that they push onto their stories. That would be better than the alternative, which is that the literary science fiction field has been so thoroughly captured by the left that authors are adding woke elements to their stories without getting any feedback, direction, or urging from the editors and publishers, just because they know these stories won’t go anywhere without them.

So how is a conservative (or at this point, even a non-leftist liberal) supposed to navigate the field? At this point, I really don’t think there’s any way to do it except to go indie, or to go with Baen (which is itself independent of the Big 6 Big 5 Big 4+1 Big 3+1 whatever the New York book publishing establishment is called these days, after the Simon & Schuster sale). There may be some other small publishers that, like Daily Wire, are driving into the smoke of our cultural institutions’ Götterdämmerung, but within the science fiction field, I don’t think any of them are big enough to offer much more than what you’ll get by going indie—except, perhaps, with the opportunity to get in early with the up-and-coming next generation of editors and publishers, who will eventually replace the dinosaurs that currently dominate the field.

But that’s a big gamble that may never pay off, because the science fiction field has been dominated by leftists since at least the mid-60s, to the point where most subgenrese of science fiction are now synonymous with woke. After all, if the authors themselves are inadvertently telling stories that use social engineering techniques, not because the editors are making them, but because that’s the only way to get published, the rot runs very, very deep. And even during the “morning in America” moment in the 80s, when science fiction pulled back from the leftist crap to give us classics like Ender’s Game, there was still a thread of the wokeism in stuff like the sexuality in the Vorkosigan books, or the environmentalism in Hyperion (which I love, don’t get me wrong… but yeah, Dan Simmons is a bit of a tree-hugger).

The point that I’m trying to make with all of this is that, when it comes to the woke agenda, science fiction is a thoroughly captured field. That’s what this last episode in navigating woke SF says to me. If that ever changes, it will be after most of the traditional markets like Clarkesworld collapse and the major awards like the Hugos and Nebulas go defunct, because until that happens, everyone in this particular field is still going to be in denial about the anti-woke cultural backlash. That’s just how deep the woke goes. So until then, if you’re a non-woke author like me, the only way to navigate the field without compromising your values is to go full indie, at least when it comes to short stories.

What about supporting the arts? At this point, instead of subscribing to a particular publication or magazine, I’ve decided to make a short list of non-woke authors I want to support, and to buy their books as soon as they come out. One of those authors is Andrew Klavan, who writes more in the mystery/thriller genre than science fiction, though his Another Kingdom trilogy is quite good. I’m reading his latest Cameron Winter mystery right now, and it’s quite good. I highly recommend it.