okay, maybe you won’t write the next great american novel
or maybe you will. i’m not your mom.

i recently watched a video by a channel i highly recommend (they do a ton of critical views on poetry, fiction, and the writing craft in general). in this video, Jay goes into a discussion of some recent (or not so recent) booktok/booktube drama: Milo Winter and the Age of Scorpius and also The King in Yellow and also Haita the Shepherd by Ambrose Bierce (which you can read here).
if you’re not chronically online, Milo is someone who i feel bit off more than he could chew, marketing and internet fame-wise, and ended up pushing out a book that was not ready for readers. this cascaded through a mass of critical videos and the general besmirching of Winter’s name.
(some of this, i get. people paid real money for this book that Winter admitted to… not listening to his editors on.)
but something i appreciate about SBU English Club and Jay’s video is that he frames Winter’s mistake and the whole drama as a familiar mistake that we all make as writers, some of us feeling more consequences for it than others.
to paraphrase Jay, “You do not become a successful writer simply by wanting to be a successful writer. That’s something you’re allowed to want, and it can even help you along. But you will never be successful by wanting to already have been successful. The harder you pursue success rather than the factors that make one successful, you will lose. Guaranteed.”
this is something I grapple with as a person in the big year of 2026 who wants so badly to be read as a writer, to be supported as a creative, and to be known as a person.
i’ve seen it tons of times before milo winter and i will likely see it after: someone puts all their time into talking about their writing and then getting others to purchase, talk about, and laud their writing. by doing this, it looks like they receive the success that has evaded them thus far.
but is it success? or is it a taste?
because this story generally ends up in the same way—once people find they don’t have the repertoire or skills to back themselves up on their claims, the internet zeitgeist moves on towards the next big thing—the next loud person willing to put themselves on the chopping block.
i’m not saying this as a oh, i’m so much better than the people who do this. because i am not.
i know i don’t have the skills or the credits to handle that kind of viral fame.
i have struggled a lot with the strong, almost ever-present desire to seek out success. i have had to shake myself away from checking and rechecking my email for subscription notices for my website that aren’t there and have squashed the impulse to submit my writing to every magazine, everywhere, no matter if i’ve researched them or not.
there’s not really an answer as to how much time an indie writer should spend on, say, marketing, submitting to literary magazines, or promoting their blogs/websites. But the answer is never going to be more than you are actually creating, writing, or reading.
i guess i’m just writing this as a way to make a commitment to myself (and to share this video, which was super well-done). i refuse to put success ahead of my own personal craft. i refuse to let notoriety drive me.
we as humans are meant to create. and maybe i’ll never be a nyt bestseller, but my poetry collection did make my boyfriend’s mom cry. so that’s success.