As the few of you who visit my little digital home may know, I offer my work on occasion for free. I do this because and only because I'm obscure. I'm unknown by virtually everyone on this big blue ball. And because I have no connections and am penniless, it is a near-certainty that I will remain obscure for the indefinite future. Which means, for the indefinite future, I will continue on occasion offering my hard work for free.

Free gives me approximately thirty-three times more exposure than not-free. That's the latest data from Smashwords' CEO, Mark Coker. When ebooks were the in thing ten years ago, that number was much higher than thirty-three. But then the ebook "revolution" ended, and the bubble burst, and right now, to put it charitably, sales are depressed. Making a living as a writer, already damn near impossible, has pushed even closer to that asymptote.

I've been told to grin and bear it, but when I am, I know instantly that the person telling me to has either not put his heart and soul into a project, one that required years, or he has those connections and cash that allow him a great deal more freedom and exposure with respect to his work. In any case, it's very disrespectful advice which speaks more to his character than anything else.

People like Coker advise that I write to a well-selling market--like "romance" (read: porn). To that end, and despite having dozens of other genres represented on his site than "romance" (read: smut), he only promotes "romance" (read: cheesy bumping uglies) on Smashwords' twitter. The blatant unfairness of that only underscores the food-kitchen desperation of the indie ebook industry as a whole. It certainly doesn't excuse his behavior, let me be clear. But the sleepin'-on-a-bench market certainly lends some understanding to his actions.

I don't write to a market, and I never will. I write what's in my heart and soul, and nothing else. To do anything else would be to live a lie. That's may not be true for others, but it is for me.

So free it is. To gild the pill, as it were, I've decided to shift my perspective--and my "marketing strategy." I've decided to call it the "I can't wait for it to be free!" fee.

Basically, it goes like this: at some point the work you're interested in will be free. That's a guarantee. The only problem is that you may have to wait a long time for that to happen.

Take Melody and the Pier to Forever, for example. Earlier this year, four of the five novels in the series were in fact free. The only one that wasn't was the one I'd just released, The Angel's Guardian. It will be free at some point in the future--that is, when I've released the novel following it, which is at this point anywhere from three-fifths to three-fourths complete. At a guess, I'll release it mid-2018 or a little later. That's when (or approximately when) The Angel's Guardian will be priced free, along with any other prior novel in the series.

The same will hold true for other series as well. If you want to read the latest in one for free, you're going to have to wait awhile. For standalones like The Candle or Reflections of Connie, I'll probably price them free once a year. (Connie, by the way, is currently free.)

There are exceptions to this rule. My essays and non-fiction will always be priced free.

You'll need to be aware that Amazon does not allow me to implement this policy. I have to contact their customer service to get just one of my works priced free for any given period. The work that is free there currently is Angel.

If you can't wait for a novel or collection of poems to be free, you can pay for it, and I will be damn grateful. That's why it's called the "I can't wait for it to be free!" fee. Of course.

There is one more exception to the rule, however. Here it is. Those who bother corresponding with me, who bother getting to know me, and I them, can read anything of mine for free, and no waiting. People who genuinely care are so rare that that's the least I can do for them. I do have a handful of folks who fill the bill, and I treasure keeping in contact with them.

I'm obscure. Unknown. Invisible. I have to contend with that every minute of every day, and have done so for fourteen years now. It's a damn difficult thing coming to terms with it, and with the realization that in all overwhelming likelihood it won't ever change. As a challenge to one's character and mettle, I can think of few that are more rigorous.

I will recycle this post on occasion to keep folks on their toes.