Why I Still Write Books (Even When They Don’t Always Sell)
Because you need more than fame and fortune to keep you going.
A few years ago, I launched a book that completely flopped.
I had poured my heart into it—early mornings before work, late nights while the house was asleep, weekends tucked away in coffee shops. When I hit “publish,” I imagined it taking off like a rocket.
But the rocket never launched.
Sales trickled in—mostly from supportive friends and a handful of email subscribers. Reviews were kind, but there were only a few.
And that sting? It was real. I remember checking my KDP dashboard on release day and refreshing the page over and over, hoping the numbers would magically jump. They didn’t. I felt like I had failed.
But here’s the strange part: I kept writing.
Even when it didn’t “work,” I still came back to the page. And over time, I learned something that changed everything—writing books is about so much more than just selling them.
Lesson 1: Books Build Something Bigger Than Sales
We live in a world obsessed with quick returns—viral videos, trending posts, instant dopamine hits. Books don’t work like that. They’re a long game.
Each book I write is like a brick in a larger foundation. Even when one doesn’t sell well, it builds credibility, deepens my voice, and opens doors I didn’t expect.
One book got me on a podcast.
Another led to a speaking invitation.
A reader of a short book later bought my course.
Sometimes a book finds the right reader months—or even years—after launch. That’s the beauty of digital shelves. Your work doesn’t disappear; it waits patiently to be discovered.
And every book you write gives the next one a better shot at success.
Lesson 2: Writing Sharpens Your Message Like Nothing Else
Before I started publishing books, I had a vague idea of what I wanted to say. I thought I knew who I was writing for. But when you try to turn ideas into 15,000+ coherent, helpful words, everything changes.
Writing forces clarity.
You wrestle with your thoughts. You uncover what you actually believe. You see the gaps in your story and your strategy.
One of my books bombed not because it was bad—but because it was unclear. I didn’t know my audience well enough, and the message came out muddy. That failure taught me how important specificity is.
The next book? Much tighter. More focused. Easier to sell—because the message was finally dialed in.
If you’re serious about building a personal brand or a business around your writing, books are the best way I know to refine your voice.
Lesson 3: Fulfillment Is Found in the Process, Not Just the Outcome
Yes, it’s frustrating when something doesn’t sell. Yes, I want every book I release to hit #1 and bring in passive income.
But if I only wrote for the numbers, I would have quit a long time ago.
There’s something sacred about finishing a book. Not everyone does it. Most people talk about it. Few follow through.
Each time I publish, I’m reminded: I can do hard things. I can finish what I start.
And honestly? That feeling is addictive in the best way.
Even when sales are slow, the sense of pride I feel seeing my work out in the world is worth it. Even more when someone emails me months later to say, “This book helped me start my own.”
It’s a ripple effect. And most of the time, you don’t even see the waves it creates.
Behind the Scenes: What I Do Differently Now
I’ve learned to measure success differently. Instead of watching launch week numbers like a hawk, I now ask:
• Did this book clarify something in me?
• Did it help even one person take action?
• Does it lead readers toward the next step—an email list, a course, another book?
I also plan launches with more intention now. I write shorter books (think 7,000–20,000 words), pair them with digital products or mini-courses, and promote them through platforms like Substack and Medium.
It’s less about chasing Amazon charts and more about building a system—a business that grows even when one piece underperforms.
And most importantly, I no longer attach my worth to my book sales.
A book that flops doesn’t mean I’m a failure. It just means I’m still learning. Still growing. Still building.
Let’s Talk About You
If you’ve ever launched a book that didn’t sell, you’re not alone.
If you’ve started one and never finished it—welcome to the club (and keep going).
If you’re wondering whether it’s worth the effort when sales aren’t guaranteed, here’s my honest answer: Yes.
Write it anyway.
Publish it anyway.
Learn from it, build on it, and keep going.
Books are seeds. You don’t control when they bloom—but you do get to plant them.
And each one changes you in ways the market can’t measure.
What about you?
Have you written something that didn’t sell the way you hoped?
Or are you still waiting to start because you’re afraid it won’t be “worth it”?
Hit reply and tell me. I read every response. Or share this with someone who needs a reminder that their words matter—even if they’re not a bestseller.
And if you want more behind-the-scenes stories and tools for building a writing business that lasts, consider subscribing.
We’re in this together.
My name is J.R. Heimbigner and I am a #1 Bestselling Author on Amazon with 20 self-published books. I want to share two things with you:
Also, this post may contain sales or affiliate links, so I might get a little kickback if you purchase anything. Thank you in advance!
This is critical: „Fulfillment Is Found in the Process, Not Just the Outcome“. I thought my fairytale was brilliant and would sell well as my first self published book - it actually didn‘t. But through it I learned so that my first business book got the Amazon bestseller list (not from friends).
I can relate to that book that didn't sell. After a long hiatus, I'm ready to publish numbers 2 and 3. This is timely for me, thanks.