Before I knew it, I'd written until this hour again. Ever since starting this book, staying up late had become the norm.
I'd originally planned to post these thoughts tomorrow, but in the dead of night, I felt like rambling a little more.
My editor, Midnight Snack, told me the book would go premium at noon tomorrow. There would probably be a delay of more than ten minutes before the chapters showed up.
As for updates, there would be at least three chapters, each four thousand words. Old Li had no stockpiled drafts; he wrote them as he went, so they might be posted separately.
Also, looking ahead: if first-day subscriptions broke three thousand, I'd update more than ten thousand words daily this month. If they broke four thousand, I'd update more than fifteen thousand words daily.
It was another time going premium, yet I felt more uneasy than ever. After three consecutive flops, my mindset had already fallen out of balance. This book's performance during its new-release period had exceeded expectations, but precisely because of that, I felt even more anxious and plagued by gains and losses.
With my last book, first-day subscriptions were three hundred, and I wrote until the average subscriptions reached fifteen hundred. I didn't earn much in royalties, but I had tasted to the fullest the helplessness and hardship of trying to claw my way up when the results were poor.
So I'd been writing this one with all my strength, seriously polishing the words and thinking over the plot, wanting to work hard and write it well.
My results had been bad for so long, and three books had flopped. All my old readers had drifted away. When I asked in the group whether anyone was still reading, only a handful responded. It was