Strange Angels Launches Tomorrow
Eight years of work takes flight on 2.25.25
At the most basic, fundamental level, it’s all just delusion, isn’t it?
Writing, I mean.
It’s delusion on so many levels.
I’m not the first writer to point this out, but writing is like having a three-act hallucination living in your head. You then think, “Hey, maybe some other people would like to see the hallucination I’ve been having!” Then, you sit down and spend months, sometimes years of your life typing out this hallucination in as much detail as possible, including dialogue, backstory, a B-plot, and odd information to enhance other people’s enjoyment of the hallucination.
If you’re one of the lucky writers, at this stage you find other people who believe in your hallucination as much as you do, and they sit down to help you turn it into a book.
If you’re one of the unlucky, struggling writers like me—you’re on your own. You have to envision and create a cover and marketing copy. You have to edit and refine your typed hallucination over weeks and months. You have to lay it out for printing in a program like InDesign, Quart Xpress, or Scribus. You have to make it look pretty. You have to typeset it for eBook publication. You have to get an ISBN number, fill out countless forms, and jump through all of Amazon’s hoops. You have to create things like promotional bookmarks and websites. You have to make clever social media posts and go through the hell that is social media because it’s the only free outlet for your marketing. You have to do a lot of homework, figure out the most affordable printing press options, and make everything as good as you possibly can before you press that final “accept” button and start the rollercoaster down the big hill from whence it can never return.
It’s a maddening, heartbreaking, frustrating process.
And I’ve done it at least 16 times before this.
It’s also a delusion that me—little ol’ Sean Little, the awkward kid who grew up deep in the sticks south of Mount Horeb, Wisconsin—can look at people who have achieved monumental success in the field of publishing, people like Stephen King, Craig Johnson, Michael Connolly, and Joseph Wambaugh, see all they have accomplished, and think to myself, “Oh, yeah—I can do that, too.”
That’s a special kind of delusion.
I’ve always said that wanting to be a novelist is a special kind of head trauma. A half-million books will get kicked into the market this year. That’s 500,000 (maybe more) and I’m just one of them. Add into that the 500,000+ that got kicked into the market each of the last five years, not to mention all the books published since Beowulf, and that’s an ocean of publications all seeking eyes and dollars.
Doing my taxes this past week, I learned that I had my most financially successful year as a writer. Even with this revelation, I did some quick math and figured out that working 10-12 hours a week at the McDonald’s down the road from my house would have made me more money.
I spend 20-40 hours a week on my writing habit. (It’s not a hobby at this point—it’s a destructive addiction, so it’s a habit.) It’s the worst part-time job ever.1
And yet, I still do it because I don’t know how to quit. This has been my mission since second grade; it’s all I’ve done for years.
And I guess I still do it for the same reasons people buy lottery tickets: even with the impossible odds, someone has to win eventually, right? Probably not going to be me, but you can’t win if you don’t play.
Anyhow, my latest hallucination will do a slick Tokyo Drift into the world tonight at midnight. The hard copies are already out in the world, and I know a few people already have them. For the rest of the world, it will be available tonight on Kindle eBook and Kindle Unlimited at midnight.
I have somehow managed to secure more pre-order copies of this one than any of my previous books. I hope that is a positive omen for this thing.
It is the first in a series. I’ve already put down a couple of chapters in the sequel.
I’m also nearing the end of the fifth Abe & Duff book and looking forward to all the struggle that will come with getting that thing into the world. (Hopefully, I can get it done before Bouchercon 2025 in September.)
Strange Angels is something of an homage to Firefly.
That’s fitting, isn’t it? If you’re familiar with the show, you know that Firefly was about a crew on a transport ship whose sole focus was to stay afloat. They weren’t out to save the universe—they just wanted to make it tomorrow.
Find a ship.
Find a crew.
Keep flying.
That’s a fitting analogy for a writing career. Just keep flying.
The STS Shy Opal and her crew launch at midnight.
I hope you’ll go along for the ride.
Personalized copies are available through my website (USA only, sadly):
Most writers have a full-time job. They have something that pays the bills. Even some of the most successful writers often have a second job. Gareth L. Powell (who has a book being filmed as a TV series as I write this) took on a part-time job working in a bookstore to make a few extra bucks every week to cover gaps in the ebb and flow of royalties. I know a couple of writers with best-seller status who drive for Uber at night for a more consistent income. Writing is hard, and the money is not what it used to be.
Unless you’re selling 20 million copies like Rebecca Yarros.
Congratulations on this milestone, Sean! I mentioned your new novel in my newsletter that's going out tomorrow, so if any of my little readership might like your work, then they'll hear about it. :)