
World Enough and Time is a steamy contemporary sci-fi romance that asks: What would you sacrifice for love?
Recently, someone asked a question on social media that made me think about my answer. The exact phrasing of the question is unimportant, but it went something like this: Given that I am not making enough money at all, let alone enough to support myself, from self-publishing should I seriously think about quitting?’ And a lot of people chimed in with encouraging statements, like ‘Just keep going!’ ‘You never know when success may be right around the corner!’ and I think at least one, ‘Never give up! Never surrender!’ (Always here for a Galaxy Quest quote). My answer was a little different, however, and, I think, a more useful one?
Whatever you are doing, whether it’s a vocational pursuit, a responsibility, or just a hobby, you have to figure out your WHY. Why are you doing this? What is your primary purpose? It doesn’t have to be noble. ‘I just want to have fun,’ is as valid an answer as ‘I want to feed the hungry children of the world.’ No, really, it is.
And if your primary purpose in self-publishing books is to make a living to support yourself and/or your family, that’s also valid and noble. If you’ve given it your best shot, and it’s not happening, quitting is a valid response to that. This is a very unpopular answer to give in this situation, and I understand why people hate it. We all want to believe that we can achieve our dreams if we just want it hard enough, and I don’t really want to rain on that parade. Absolutely, this is a long game, and you can find real success after many years of toiling in obscurity. That happens. It is possible. It is also not an extremely likely event, statistically. There are many of us who work for years and never see anything approaching financial stability from it (It’s me, Hi! I’m the problem. It’s me!). This does not make anyone a failure, but if your primary goals are financial, this is a very high risk, high reward way of accomplishing that.
So, my honest answer is, if you think you’ve given it your best shot, and you’re not anywhere close to meeting your goals, then go ahead and quit. There’s no shame there.
That said, you really need to look at what you’re doing and why. In any arena. My guess is, you’re getting something out of writing and publishing that you can’t get any other way. Your actual goal could be something creative or artistic, or even social, and you don’t want to quit because you don’t want to give that up. Basically, if some rando like me told you to quit and it made you mad? That’s a sign you shouldn’t quit. Conversely, if I said that to you and you felt this overwhelming sense of relief, that’s also a sign.
Figure out what you need from whatever you’re doing. That can be painting, playing golf (why?), being a superfan of limp bizkit (again, why?), serving as the treasurer of your local PTA, volunteering at an animal shelter, or any number of things besides creative work. What’s your WHY? I spent fourteen years volunteering at a library and eventually couldn’t remember why I was doing it anymore, so I quit to go back to school and do something else. I’m sure I was getting something from the library at first, but then either I changed, or the situation changed. Neither of those things was a failure. I found a new WHY for something new and have been much happier since.
Here’s the thing: No one else can tell you what your WHY should be. It doesn’t have to be something that makes sense to anyone else. It can literally be ‘I enjoy this for reasons I can’t quite articulate.’ That is valid. And if you’re not getting what you want out of something, you don’t have to continue. Nothing should be a life sentence, except an actual life sentence for, like, murder.
There are many reasons to write books and self-publish them. If financial stability is your primary WHY, then there are far easier ways to accomplish that. Selling crack, for instance. For me, I want to write books and create a body of work that I’m proud of. I’m accomplishing that. Any actual sales are like bonus validation. That would not be enough for some people, and I get that. I am not more noble for not having a major financial motivation. This is, however, what I feel like I’m supposed to be doing, and I am incredibly blessed and privileged that it’s what I get to make the center of my life right now. A majority of other people are not in that situation, however.
So, whatever you’re doing, find your WHY. If you can’t, you’re allowed to quit. If you do find it, nothing can stop you.
They had about five minutes before the wedding was set to begin, but Carrie-Anne rarely started anything on time. It was the thing they’d fought about most. He’d be ready to go somewhere, and she would spend another forty-five minutes getting ready, making him wait. He was very happy that part of his life was over.
As people streamed into the ballroom, some of them pausing to look him over before pointedly moving on, he was grateful for Jay’s steady presence beside him. It really would have felt awful to be here alone.
On the far-right side of the ballroom, Dmitri could see that tables and chairs had already been set up for the reception. He wondered who Carrie-Anne had put at his table. He hoped it was someone friendly. Lilac bunting had been draped down both sides of the aisle, and gently glowing fake candles had been placed every ten feet or so. Various varieties of purple flowers had been fixed to the candle stands. In the front of the room was another spray of flowers, in purples and blues, and the two independent candles glowing on either side of the unity candle, which had yet to be lit. The room was gorgeous, the decorations tasteful. It was a huge contrast to his own wedding to Carrie-Anne, which had been in a gazebo at a public park. Carrie-Anne’s dad must have had some investments pay off recently. She certainly couldn’t afford this on a school-teacher’s salary. Of course, Bryan was a firefighter, so… maybe he could.
The minister had just come out from the back of the room, and Vivaldi flowed out of the speakers. The chandelier dimmed, letting everyone know it was time to take their places. Dmitri didn’t know where to look. He was afraid of making eye contact with anyone, so he stared up at the chandelier.
“Dmitri, you made it,” he heard the voice before he saw who was talking, but he would have recognized the tone anywhere.
“Hi, Madison,” Dmitri said.
Carrie-Anne’s oldest sister was standing there in the aisle, in her tight purple cocktail dress. Madison’s husband—Ken? Cooper?—stood next to her with a protective arm around her waist.
“I really didn’t think you’d have the nerve to show up,” she said. She was slurring her words a little. Apparently, she’d been hitting the sauce a bit before the big event, as usual—which was probably why she wasn’t part of the wedding party.
“I’m just here to support Carrie-Anne,” Dmitri said. Madison looked like she was about to say something else, but Jay chose that moment to stand up and extend his hand.
“Hi. I’m Jay,” he said brightly. He shook Madison’s hand, then her husband’s. Madison looked him over, evaluating him the same way Minerva had.
“And who is Jay?” Madison asked Dmitri.
Dmitri took in a breath to answer, but Jay shot him a look and beat him to it. “I’m Dmitri’s boyfriend.”
Madison’s eyes widened, and Dmitri’s did as well, but he covered his shock.
“I didn’t know Dmitri had a boyfriend,” Madison said, coolly.
Dmitri didn’t either, Dmitri thought.
Jay gave him another unreadable look and shrugged.
Madison looked between the two of them again. “Well, today is just full of surprises.”
“Come on Mads, let’s find our seat,” her husband said, and she allowed herself to be led away, shuffling off on unsteady feet.
Jay sat back down, and his eyes found Dmitri’s. “I know I’m not… but I felt like she was ramping up, and I wanted to shut her down.”
Dmitri smiled. “It’s fine. We can go with that story. Just for the day.”
“Just for the day,” Jay said, settling back into his seat. But as the lights flashed again, Dmitri found his fingers tracing the outside of Jay’s knuckle. Jay looked at him, gave him a lopsided smile, and grabbed hold of Dmitri’s hand, holding it tightly in place between them. Dmitri’s heart started to beat faster, and he was grateful for the dim light, because he was certain he was blushing.
Just for the day, he told himself. They would tell everyone this story, and then they would see what happened.

His superpowers include procrastination, dyscalculia, and making emotionally devastating story beats sound like a perfectly reasonable life choice.
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The book sounds very interesting. I love the cover.
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