Writing OCTOBER ANIMALS was hard enough, publishing it has been on an entirely different level of Hell. I will never again take part in publishing my own work. At least, not like this, not through Rooster. You couldn’t persuade me if you had a gun to my head.

OCTOBER ANIMALS has been the worst experience I have ever had as both a writer and a publisher. It is an utter failure of a release, beating out AT THE END OF THE DAY I BURST INTO FLAMES and my second collection of short stories, NOBODY GETS HURT AND OTHER LIES, as far as sales and/or general disinterest goes. We promoted the book off and on for months. Hell, I’ve been talking about it for years.

It sold a whopping FOUR copies the week it released in paperback. Laughably bad. In a month since its paperback release, the book will have moved about 20 copies. The hardcover rollout was similarly poor, the worst bottom-line performance we’ve ever had for a hardcover release.

This isn’t a pitty-party post. As I noted above, I have had other titles completely shit the bed. This post is more of a reality check. Not every book is going to land, and that’s an unfortunate fact. All I can do, at this point, is exactly what I have done before: write another book.