I set out to write an unpublishable book, and it has become my greatest success.
For years, I tried to create a novel that would land me an agent. I tried to write urban fantasy because that seemed to be a popular thing, then I tried to write harder science fiction because that seemed to appeal to the big houses. I tried to sell, to make myself a product companies would want on their shelves.
The galling thing about selling out is… it’s not guaranteed to work, and it takes hard work, sacrifice, and luck to “sell out.” I know; I tried. I would’ve written whatever dreck anyone told me to, if they said they could get me a Big Five deal.
Anyway, there I was, struggling to find a home for Galactic Hellcats and its sequel after the initial publisher, Vernacular Books, folded. I knocked on every door I could find, sent so many queries that I lost track and may have offended a few micro presses when I went with Lethe in the end. It was a soul-crushing experience, begging my books around.
I revised and re-wrote that sequel throughout this three-year stretch, agonizing about what fans of the first book would want to see, and having new arcs for the characters, continuing arcs from the first book in interesting ways, and of course upping the stakes and dangers… it wasn’t fun writing.
When at last Hellcats 2 was finally in print, I threw my every waking moment into promotion, draining my savings to go to every event I could think of… I bought and gave away swag, I did interviews on local TV and radio, I hired a publicist, I threw a big launch party… and in the end, according to the publisher, Andrei sold about 120 copies in its first year. Total. I thought I had more friends than that.
This did not inspire me to work on Book Three.
In the words of Ursula K. LeGuin, “We let the commodity profiteers promote and sell our work like deodorant… art is not a commodity.”
I didn’t have the excuse that I let someone else do it: I did all I could to be a commodity, to write what I was told people wanted, to sell, sell, sell. It killed me. I got yelled at by friends for being too promotional and it wasn’t even working.
I decided I needed a break. Whatever came next for my career, it couldn’t be more of that.
I would write something so intentionally obscure and literary that no one would ever dream of buying it, thereby freeing myself to enjoy writing again.
What I enjoy writing, when I’m just goofing off, are character explorations. Quiet, introspective moments that walk around in someone’s head and life. So I wrote some of those. Just thousand-word chunks of this character in their normal life, that character have an argument with a neighbor.
Oo, I thought… what about that idea I had ages ago about a hive mind as protagonist? I wrote a thousand words from their point of view, and heeeey…
There was an unsellable idea! A non-linear story told in 30 separate points-of-view, and I’d mix it up with a chapter in iambic pentameter, a chapter written as a Reddit post and comment thread, a chapter in second person, of course! The result, of course, was my 2026 novella, Multitude.
Many writing teachers told me to “follow your weird” and “don’t try to guess what will sell” and I had nodded along and ignored the advice, instead trying to guess what would sell and what I could do to appeal to “normal people.”
Multitude sold to the second publisher I sent it to, and people have asked me how I managed to write such an intricate little novella. Over 6,300 people have listed it “to read” on GoodReads, compared to 1,900 for Galactic Hellcats. I haven’t gotten the first royalty report yet, but local bookstores tell me it is flying off their shelves!
Which is not simply to brag! This is me learning, finally, that long-ago lesson:
Follow your weird.
The only thing following the crowd gets you is lost in other’s footprints.
