Author: Michael Lucas

Writer. Sysadmin. Owns this site.
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2023 Income Sources

Here’s where my income came from in 2023. (For newcomers, I’ve done these posts for the last few years.)

I’m a writer. My income comes from writing books and making them available. I publish both independently and through publishers. I don’t consult. I don’t seek out speaking fees. I desire to make my living as an author, creating and licensing intellectual property. I make my books available in every channel that offers reasonable terms.

Whenever I share actual dollar figures, people inform me that I can’t possibly be making that much, or that I don’t deserve to make that much, or demand I share “the secret.” The first two are not worth my time, and I’ve been trying to tell everyone the dang secret for years: keep writing, with an attitude of deliberate practice. Nothing productive can come from such discussions, so I don’t say.

How did 2023 look?

My income was flat with 2022 and 2019. While the Great Locked Inside Reading Surge of 2020-2021 supplemented my emergency fund, my income is back at its baseline. I’d like more, sure, but I have achieved Enough. Not bad for a year without many books.

Here’s the detail.

Amazon – 28.87%
Trad Pub – 17.55%
TWP direct sales – 15.29%
TWP sponsorship – 12.00%
TWP patronizer – 7.42%
IngramSpark – 5.54%
Kickstarter – 5.46%
Patreon – 4.56%
Gumroad – 1.53%
Apple – 0.70%
Kobo – 0.50%
Google – 0.37%
Draft2Digital – 0.17%
Aerio – 0.03%
Barnes & Noble – 0.01%

Can I draw any conclusions from this?

My web site (TWP, or Tilted Windmill Press) is again this year’s star. The combination of direct sales, sponsors, and my homebrew Patreon is 34.71% of my income, a couple points over last year. It’s built on Woocommerce with a handful of commercial plugins that total about $600 a year. My business goal is to get folks to buy directly from me rather than retailers, so I’m content but not satisfied.

Amazon is at 28.87%, down a couple points from last year. There’s reasons for that. They don’t have rights to distribute my newest tech book on Kindle. They’ve retaliated by deprioritizing the title in their listings. I’m not crying; I consider Amazon a discovery platform, an entry point to the Reader Acquisition Funnel. I neither love nor hate Amazon. They’re merely a retailer who offers a nonnegotiable take-it-or-leave-it deal. I accept or reject that deal on a case-by-case basis. Losing them as a channel would send me back to the “yellow zone” emergency budget, but we’d survive just fine.

Kickstarter is down, but I only ran campaigns for short story collections. My private Patronizer program grew a point, but that’s a wobble not a trend. Traditional publishing income is up, thanks to a Humble Bundle.

Then there’s the “below two percent” retailers. Gumroad, because they handle VAT for European readers. I want all the readers and Apple, Kobo, and Google serve readers other retailers don’t reach. They’re small, but those nickels spend. Unless things change, this will be the last year I report Barnes & Noble. I spent many happy hours in the 90s and the 00s wandering their aisles and I would like them to be successful for old times’ sake, but they’re just not managing it and their numbers depress me.

Here’s what the last five years have looked like. I have excluded the tiny channels.

It’s hard to call most of these lines “trends.” If you aggregate the various options from my web site, though, you can see a couple things.

Having fewer entities on this graph makes a couple things clear. I dislike that IngramSpark is shrinking year over year. I use IS to fulfill non-Amazon paperback orders and all hardcovers, so this is either an indication that either brick-and-mortar bookstores are struggling, or that I haven’t released a “hit” in a couple years. Which is it?

It also shows that my direct-to-reader business efforts are working. Readers are willing to do business directly with writers. They like supporting individual authors.

What does the swell in trad pub mean? It means that I need multiple sources of income. I have no way to control which business partner will prosper and which will pull a Wile E Coyote. No matter what, I must be able to pay the mortgage.

How much do I make off of sponsorships and Patronizers, as opposed to retailers? Fair question. Let’s see.

After a few years of growth, the non-retail income is down. Sponsorships and Patronizers were up, but Kickstarter was down (again, because I didn’t run a big one). The vital lesson here is:

if I don’t put broadly interesting product in front of people, I don’t get paid.

Now that I’ve shared the secret, it’s time to double-check last year’s expenses. Income is great, but it’s expenses that destroy you.

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My Ebook Store Now Offers Gift Cards

Don’t know exactly what you want as a gift for Your Chosen Winter Solstice Holiday, but you know you want it to include my ebooks?

Tilted Windmill Press now offers gift cards. There’s no physical card, mind you. It’s a digital code that gets emailed to the recipient. But if Amazon calls this a ‘gift card’ I can too.

Yes, this is another lame excuse to take your money. Except it’s not your money, it’s money from your friends and family.

You might note that the cards are good for two years, rather than forever. People have expressed interest in TWP gift cards, but I don’t know if that will translate to actual purchases. I am buying the gift card plugin –yes, I could code something myself, but that’s specifically against my guidelines. I’m committing to buying this plugin until at least December 2025. If I decide to stop offering the gift card, I’ll buy the plugin for at least two years afterwards.

While business doesn’t bring me joy, I do find delight in trying things like this. Anything the big guys can do, I can also do. Next year, I’ll be offering some things that the big guys refuse to do. In the meantime, I have to get back to making words.

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November’s Noughtwithstanding Sausage

This post went to Patronizers at the beginning of November, and the public in December. A buck a month gets you early access and more.

These posts need titles, so I go for alliteration. Alliteration gives me an excuse to grab my primordial Oxford English Dictionary. I’ve mentioned this before, but I don’t think folks quite appreciate what a font of wordage it is.


It’s ninety years old and smells like knowledge.

Anyway, it’s been quite a month. The Apocalypse Moi Kickstarter is now completely fulfilled. Just as I was writing this sentence, though, the doorbell rang. UPS dropped off two packages, and—yep. It’s two copies of the book, dropshipped from the printer. They were supposed to go to backers. Instead, they went to me. Did I screw up entering the address? Possible. Did the printer screw up? Very possible. Did the printer’s obtuse web-based ordering system refresh inconveniently and overwrite my meticulously hand-entered shipping address with the default address? Screechingly possible. Each has a shipping slip with an order number, so I get to go through the orders and figure out who got shorted.

Or maybe the printer got carried away and shipped me extra books. That happens, too.

If it wasn’t for the lack of conference calls, I’d call this the worst business ever. But then I’d remember working in the auto industry and realize it’s not nearly that bad.

Anyway. That Kickstarter’s over except for the lingering cruft.

I’m to the bit of Run Your Own Mail Server where I get to talk about filtering and greylisting and SPF and all those fun topics. That’s not a huge topic, but it might take me a little longer than I’d like to get through. Which is the story of this book. October was a crunch month for my family. The crunch ends next Monday and I’ll be free to spew words. I’m learning things about email that I didn’t want to know, and details about workarounds that I didn’t want to know. Here’s yesterday.

Postfix’s postscreen(8) performs sanity checks on incoming email connections. Spambots behave badly, taking full advantage of Jon Postel’s original Robustness Principle. Postscreen identifies those bad actors and prevents them from talking to the SMTP server. Seems fine, right?

Postscreen has optional checks that are intrusive. It does most of the SMTP transaction and, if the client behaves well throughout, adds the client’s address to a temporary allowlist. The problem is, it can’t forward that connection to the mail handler. Instead, it gives the client a 400 error to say “I’m sorry, I can’t finish this right now, please come back later.” That’s a normal part of the email protocol. When the client returns, postscreen sees the address on the allowlist and steers it straight to the SMTP server. Simple enough.

Some of you might recognize that as greylisting. Greylisting is a controversial topic that I’m not gonna get into right now, but it is what it is. How does one get email delivered immediately, while still performing sanity checks? In theory, when a mail client can’t deliver to the primary mail server, it should immediately try the backup. Small sites don’t need a backup mail server.

But you can make a faux backup server.

Add a second IP address to your mail server. List it as the backup MX.

The client goes to the primary MX, passes the intrusive tests, and gets the 400 error. It immediately goes to the second MX. That’s the same host, so it has the same temporary allowlist. The mail is immediately accepted. You need to set up the backup MX address so that SMTP connections that arrive there cannot be added to the allowlist, but that’s included in Postfix.

So I go and set this up. I dig through Vultr’s web interface until I find how to get a second IP address and how to add it to a host. I add a second IPv6 address to that test host. Reboot everything, make sure all the connectivity works. Set up Postfix as a faux backup MX, adjust the DNS records. None of this is advanced work, but it’s tedious and annoying and type-prone. But at last everything looks correct, so I go to my other test host and send an email.

The test host tries the IPv4 address, and gets a 400. Good.

The test host tries the IPv6 address. 400. Good.

And then… it stops.

Postfix doesn’t try the backup MX. Why not?

I go to my old mail server, the one that’s running Sendmail. It gets a 400, immediately tries the backup MX, and sails through. Exactly the way it should. I’ll be trying with gmail today, see what they do. While gmail retries delay-queued mail from different IP addresses, I have no idea if the immediate retries change addresses. It’s an interesting test.

But I worked in IT for decades. I know perfectly well that if someone deployed this in the real world and something went wrong with an incoming message, a manager would ask “Are they on the list?” Because that’s what they ask. That meant I had to figure out how to interrogate the allowlist cache. This is not a public Postfix interface, and Postfix’s developer never intended that people should poke at it. I have no problem telling people “this isn’t meant for you, and it might change in the future, and you shouldn’t rely on any of the other data it reveals, but here’s how you glimpse at it.” But that still leaves me figuring out how to grovel through the stupid cache. Turns out you have to specify the cache format on the command line, a hint which appears nowhere in the documentation because you’re not supposed to go poking at the cache.

Anyway.

That’s a day. Forty words written, and I still don’t know why Postfix didn’t immediately try the backup MX.

The fiction crashed to a halt this month, because of aforementioned family crunch. That’ll restart next month. I owe the world an orc baseball story. I’ve figured out how to make that a short story, finally. One of the rules to making a story short is to limit the number of characters, but a baseball team has nine players, so I’d just like to say oops this was a terrible idea.

Ah well. Live and learn. Learn something that will do you absolutely no good in the future, because part of you already knew it.

I’ve taken sponsorships on the mail book, but I’m pondering doing a Kickstarter for it anyway. Sponsors and Patronizers will get theirs, of course, but there’s a broad pool of folks who want a thing to be ready to produce before they buy it. I’m also pondering stretch goals like “for $25k, I will put the book contents on a public web site.” I’d still have the book in stores, of course. But the ebook won’t be available on Kindle. Heck, the way this book is going the ebook might be $19.99. It’s gonna be freaking huge. Anyway, that Kickstarter and such stretch goals is just idle fancy. Some authors have good results with making their books public. For others, it destroys sales.

Which am I?

Only one way to find out, and the test costs only a year’s work.

That’s it for this month. Thanks for Patronizing me. Onward!

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Penguicon Auction, or: How To Make Me Shut Up

I’ve been a fan of Penguicon since they invited me as a GoH back in 2013. Some of the con staff even troll me.

Like many cons, Penguicon is struggling to reboot post-lockdown. They will make enough on registration to cover expenses, but that money arrives late and they need some cash up front. They’re holding a fundraising auction.

Some of the items are magnificent. Want to be a Guest of Honor, or make someone else a GoH? Personally I think we should draft Bob Beck and make him explain TLS. You can make the conchair give a presentation of a topic of your choosing, whether she knows anything about the topic or not. You can get homemade cookies, books, art, etsy gift cards, and more.

I donated something.

Remember the Prohibition Orcs kickstarter, and the exclusive orc-leather-cased omnibuses? With the authentic Spanish-American war and the romantic (for orcish values of romance) tattoos? I had four extras made, to resolve shipping problems. I know some of you missed the Kickstarter and the omnibus, because you told me. At length.
An orc-leather omnibus is in the auction. Bidding is at $55 as I write this, so you better act fast.

I normally give several presentations at Penguicon. And readings. And participate in panels. And hang around the bookstore. Penguicon 2023 featured ten hours of Lucas.

The 2024 con?

To my surprise, con chair Bagel (yes, that’s her name, Bagel) listed this item. For every $250 you donate, you get to pre-reject one of my events. You can leave me drifting aimless and blank-faced in the lobby, without purpose.

But seriously, Penguicon treats its Guests of Honor more luxuriously than any event I have ever attended. You should totally bid on that.

Or, con chair Bagel hand-knits to order adorable little glow-in-the-dark ghosts. You can get one for $10. You can also get 100 for $1,000. Bagel deserves no less.


Anyway, check out the auction. Help a bunch of geeks in a good cause.

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Penguicon fundraiser, featuring Orc-Cased Orcs

Did you miss the Prohibition Orcs Kickstarter–specifically, the orc-leather-cased exclusive omnibuses? I know many of you did. You told me about it. Bitterly and at length.

Orc leather? If you didn’t know — when an orc dies, their final gift to their clan is their remains. The clan uses every scrap, including the hide.

Penguicon, like all cons, is struggling to resurrect itself after the pandemic. That means money. They’re holding an auction to raise seed money. While their registration fees will cover the con expenses, that money arrives late. Hotel deposits must be paid early.

One of the items they’re auctioning off is that orc-leather-cased omnibus, complete with orcish tattoos.


I have a handful of these, which I ordered to cover shipping losses. They will appear on the market in charity auctions. Not before 2025, however. Probably not before 2026, when I (vaguely expect to) release the next Prohibition Orcs collection. That handful will be doled out over the rest of my misbegotten misspent life, wherever I think they can have the most impact.

The Orc-cased Orc Book is already listed, and other items are being added daily. The auction begins 28 November at 12AM, and runs until the 11:45 PM on 1 December. The con chair has donated handicrafts, there are cookies, there’s Etsy gift cards, books, all sorts of stuff.

Register early.

Bid orcishly.

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Why My Short Fiction Is Exclusively In My Store

You might have noticed that I’ve stopped publishing my shorter fiction on third-party bookstores like Amazon and Kobo and whatnot. If it’s not credibly a novel by historical standards1, it’s in my store. If you’re unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity when someone asks me about my business model, I make a lot of noise about the importance of having your work available on every platform. Why would I break my own rule? Because I’m okay with exclusivity, so long as it’s mine.

My short stories have a publication life cycle. The good ones I publish as stand-alone chapbooks. (The bad ones get thrown in the Pit, where the stronger devour the weaker. It’s not nice, but go ask David Attenborough how nature works.) When I have enough stories on a theme, I gather them into a collection, Kickstart it, and unpublish the chapbooks. Publishing a title on every retailer takes about four to five hours. Unpublishing takes about the same, because while unpublishing requires less information, interfaces optimized for offering something to the world are often anti-optimized for undoing that. I have to expect to make a few hundred bucks to be worth the time.

As I’ve discussed earlier, Amazon penalizes pricing books outside the $2.99-$9.99 range. I’ve been forced to price my short stories at $2.99, even though I think $1.99 is a more fair price. I carried that price across all platforms. For years people bought them at that price, until suddenly they stopped.

I had no idea why they stopped. It’s not like I can reach out to people who buy through Amazon.

But after this had gone on for a while, I asked a couple folks who signed up for my Patronizer program. (It’s Patreon, except you can use either Patreon proper or go direct with me.) Every one of them gave me the same answer: “I used to buy your stories, but now I send you money every month and get them for free.”

Obvious, really. I have successfully disintermediated many of my short fiction readers! Yay me!

That’s old readers, though. But what about discoverability? Having more work in a bookstore prioritizes you in their algorithm. My fiction career is not as strong as my nonfiction career, surely I need all the help I can get. Uh… have you looked at my fiction name over at Amazon? It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Supposedly the more titles you have, the more likely it is that the Almighty Algorithm will bless you with virality. I do not chase algorithms, because The Algorithm giveth and The Algorithm taketh away. Yes, this business requires luck–but I prefer relying on the kind of luck that looks a lot like hard work, and relying on goals rather than dreams (a topic I discuss in unreasonable depth in Domesticate Your Badgers.)

Having short stories exclusively on my bookstore lets me price them at $1.99. I think that’s a fair price. After fees I make about $1.60 on each sale, which beats the heck out of Amazon’s ~$0.65 for a $1.99 tale. I no longer lose a full day on the publishing/unpublishing cycle. I’ll still publish full-length books everywhere that offers a reasonable contract, but the short stories will stay with me for now.

The new story’s on my bookstore. Imagine Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin, but it’s weird modern fantasy. I have almost enough of these tales to Kickstart a collection, but many of them are sitting in various trad pub channels awaiting rejection.

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New Christmas story: “The Rats’ Man’s Lackey and the Forbidden Tinsel”

Available exclusively on my bookstore for a paltry two bucks. Or free, if you’re a Patronizer.

“Someone in our household is practicing Christmas, and we will all be dead by midnight.”

Discover demons are real and, if you survive long enough, you might find supernatural Witness Protection. Stay alive by abandoning your life and your name and following Whackadoo Manor’s rules: no Vienna sausage, no Internet, no Bruce Willis movies or Swedish Modern furniture, and—no matter what—no holidays.

Even the strangest rules have reasons.

Reasons writ in blood.

Sometimes on gingerbread.

(I read a tidbit of this for 60 Minutes of WIP episode 13: The Only Right We Have.)

If someone had told me decades ago that there was a big market for “weird-ass Christmas tales,” my career would be entirely different.

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My new “FreeBSD Journal” column has escaped

Once again, the FreeBSD Journal requested that I discuss the ports and packages system. While this is a FreeBSD-specific publication, my comments are true of any BSD. Or Linux. Or operating system.

I’d advise you to avoid the cooties, but if you’re reading this it’s almost certainly too late.

If you want to hear me read a specific part of this, you’re out of luck. Unless you want the one minute’s worth that previously appeared in my podcast.

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October’s Ornery Sausage

(This post went to Patronizers at the beginning of October, and the public at the beginning of November.)

If you’re in a country that has Halloween, you need to read A Night In The Lonesome October. It has thirty-one chapters, one for each day of October, and that’s how you’re supposed to read it. If you’re starting late you can catch up, but after that? One chapter a day. This isn’t a recommendation, it’s full-on necessary.

Anyway. Writing.

Run Your Own Mail Server grinds on. I’m digging through decades of recommendations and worst practices disguised as wisdom and general daftness as people fought to keep email useful despite the spammers. The problem is, email runs as default permit. On the list of Dumbest Ideas In Computer Security from twenty years ago, default permit was number one. Stopping spam relies on enumerating badness, which is number two on that same list. Really, we need to educate our users on spam–no, wait, “educating users” is number three on the list.

Yet the world is built on email. Could we design better? Sure. Are we going to? No. Eventually the Email Empire will declare supremacy and lock everyone else out. Stray email servers will become like the Fediverse, cool but for a limited userbase.

But not today. Not in the next decade.

But I’ve progressed to writing about SPF, which will let me get on DKIM and DMARC, so that’s good.

In other news, the Writing Chariot has been surpassed. Posting the pictures led a couple folks to point out Arkon mounting brackets. These are ridiculously heavy-duty devices used in manufacturing and industrial environments, when your devices absolutely must not slip. I’ve wound up with this.

My hands don’t quite hang at my sides. They’re slightly forward. But it’s close to what I want. Writing this post, I realize that what I need are a couple of adapters to swing them a little further out from the desk and let me adjust the angle slightly. I ran off to order them and will post updated pics next month.

I got the Apocalypse Moi print proofs in the mail. Of all the stock art covers I have designed for my fiction, this is the first one I am pleased with. Cover design is a subtle art. The difference between “yeah okay” and “hell yes” is subtle, and I do not yet understand the subtlety. But every cover I design teaches me a little more.

I got an invite to submit to a couple of seasonal anthologies, which is cool. I’ll have at least two holiday stories out this year. If I had known twenty years ago that there was a market for grimdark Christmas my career would look very different, but whatever.

My experimental podcast, 60 Seconds of WIP, seems to be gathering traction. I’ve gotten it on Spotify and Apple. I’ve gotten it tweaked down to the point where recording each episode takes less than fifteen minutes. As should have been blatantly obvious but I completely failed to predict, the most common feedback I get is “where can I buy this?” I’m wondering if I should start a “60 Seconds of Book” podcast where I read a chunk of one of my books that folks can buy. Not sure if it’s worthwhile or if it’s mere arrogance. All marketing is arrogance, but not all arrogance is marketing. Figuring out where each arrogance fits in, now that’s the trick.

And that is why I loathe marketing. When you have even three or four people who keep telling they love your work, it’s easy to lose your humility. And I must always remember, I’m just a little shmuck writing little books that affect a tiny number of people, and that I’m lucky to have this gig.

Feeling overloaded these days. Opportunities are everywhere. My only limit is my ability to produce words, which is sadly limited by my 56-year-old meatsuit and the realities of living in a country whose guiding philosophies have grown disconnected from basic principles like gravity and the nitrogen cycle and the greenhouse effect. But I’ll keep plugging away as best I can.

Onward!