An Author's Website: If You Build It, They Won't Necessarily Come

The expensive reality of being a self-published author.

If you're a self-published author, you've undoubtedly heard the advice.

"You need a website!"

"Build your author platform!"

"Start a blog!"

"Create an email campaign!"

"Engage with your readers!"

Well, isn't that wonderful? There's just one tiny problem.

WHAT READERS?

I've had an author's website for four years. Four years of paying hosting fees, writing blogs, promoting books, experimenting with marketing tools, and trying just about everything short of standing on a street corner wearing a sandwich board that reads, "PLEASE VISIT MY WEBSITE!"

And what do I have to show for it?

A website I'm rather proud of, a lighter wallet, and an impressive collection of blog posts that apparently nobody wants to read.

Welcome to the glamorous world of self-publishing.

The Website Nobody Visits

I pay nearly $400 a year to maintain my website.

Four hundred dollars.

That's a considerable amount of money for an independent author who isn't selling books.

Now, before anyone suggests that perhaps my website isn't attractive or easy to navigate, I'll admit something.

For the first couple of years, my website was a disaster.

A horrible, disorganized, pitiful mess.

There. I've said it.

I knew it needed help. In fact, I nearly paid someone a couple hundred dollars to redesign it. I was ready to hand over the money when I decided to try fixing it myself.

Mind you, I'm not exactly what you'd call technologically gifted. There are days when I consider successfully connecting my printer to the computer a major personal achievement.

But I did it.

In roughly two weeks, I completely redesigned my website. I organized the pages, improved the appearance, and created something that finally represented me and my writing.

I was proud of what I'd accomplished.

And the visitors?

Well, apparently nobody noticed.

Everybody Has Something to Sell You

Here's where my frustration turns into something resembling anger.

There is an entire industry built around telling independent authors what they absolutely MUST do to become successful.

You need a website. You need search engine optimization. You need email marketing. You need automated campaigns. You need this feature and that upgrade.

And wouldn't you know it? There's always someone willing to sell you exactly what you supposedly need.

I've even fallen for some of Wix's marketing promises. Not because I'm particularly gullible, but because I genuinely wanted to believe these tools might help.

Recently, while experimenting with website features and email campaigns, I managed to spend more than $100 in a single week.

A SINGLE WEEK!

For what?

No new readers. No book sales. No sudden flood of visitors.

Just another bill.

Now, I'm not suggesting every marketing service is a scam. Some of these tools undoubtedly work for people who already have an audience or a business generating revenue.

But for a struggling independent author?

Sometimes it feels as though the only people making money from our books are the companies selling us ways to promote them.

And that, my friends, is a rather bitter pill to swallow.

Free Giveaways! Everybody Loves Free!

I've tried giveaways, too.

Gift cards. A Kindle. Incentives designed to encourage people to visit my website.

And guess what?

People visited!

For a brief, glorious moment, those visitor numbers actually moved.

Unfortunately, most weren't interested in my books, my writing, or the articles I'd spent hours creating.

They wanted the free stuff.

They entered their email addresses, crossed their fingers, and disappeared.

I can't really blame them. After all, I was the one offering the prizes.

But I learned something rather expensive.

Getting someone to visit your website is not the same as getting someone interested in what you have to say.

Writing to an Empty Room

This is the part that bothers me most.

I write a blog every week.

Sometimes I share my experiences as a self-published author. Sometimes I offer advice, warnings, or encouragement to others who might be facing the same difficulties.

I spend hours thinking about what I want to say. I write, rewrite, edit, and polish until I feel I've created something worthwhile.

Then I publish it.

And wait.

And check the visitor count.

Zero.

Sometimes a day passes. Sometimes several.

Still nothing.

It's a peculiar feeling, pouring your heart into something you genuinely hope will help another person, only to realize that person may never know it exists.

You begin to wonder why you're doing it.

Not because you've stopped believing in what you write, but because words cannot encourage, comfort, or educate someone who never gets the opportunity to read them.

It's rather like standing on an empty stage, delivering the performance of your life, and realizing the theater doors were never opened.

So Why Do Authors Need Websites?

That's a serious question, and I'd genuinely appreciate an answer.

We're told an author's website is essential.

Essential for what?

Credibility? Perhaps.

A professional presence? Certainly.

A place where interested readers can learn about your books? Absolutely.

But where are those interested readers supposed to come from?

A website doesn't magically attract visitors simply because it exists. And posting a new blog every week doesn't guarantee anyone will discover it.

I've promoted my website repeatedly on social media. I've tried incentives. I've invested time, money, and effort.

And after four years, I still haven't sold a single book directly through my site.

So I have to ask whether maintaining it is a wise investment or simply another expense I've convinced myself is necessary because everyone says it is.

I'm Not Giving Up. But I'm Not Selling False Hope, Either.

I know this isn't my usual encouraging advice for fellow writers.

Today, I'm frustrated.

Actually, I'm a little pissed off.

I'm tired of being told that success is simply another marketing strategy, another subscription, or another email campaign away.

I'm tired of watching money disappear while the promised results never materialize.

And I'm tired of pretending that persistence alone guarantees success.

It doesn't.

Some talented writers will spend years trying to find an audience and never find one. That's an uncomfortable truth, but pretending otherwise doesn't help anybody.

I'm not saying you shouldn't have an author's website. I'm saying you should think carefully about what you expect it to accomplish and how much you're willing to spend maintaining it.

Because writing a book is difficult enough without being made to feel that you're failing simply because you can't afford every marketing tool someone insists you need.

As for me, I'll probably publish another blog next week.

I'll spend hours writing it, carefully choosing my words, hoping something I say might help another author avoid some of the mistakes I've made.

Then I'll press that little button marked "Publish."

And, as usual, I'll check the visitor count.

Perhaps I'll be pleasantly surprised.

Perhaps I'll see another zero.

But today, instead of offering advice I can't honestly promise will work, I'm asking a question.

If you've been told every author needs a website, tell me something. Has yours actually helped you sell books, find readers, or build an audience?

Because after four years and hundreds upon hundreds of dollars, I'd genuinely like to know.

And if you're reading this, congratulations.

You've already made my day.

For once, I wasn't talking to an empty room.