This is one of those questions I ask myself a lot. Actually, that’s a lie. I rarely ask myself the question. I’m too busy pre-emptively giving myself the answer

Between doomscrolling the inevitable heat death of the planet, the permanent echoing gun-rattle of political shots fired and the imminent AI apocalypse, it feels more and more like we’re living through humanity’s equivalent of that scene in the Titanic where the band stoically pull out their instruments to play one final song.

That’s right, it’s bleak stuff and the water’s getting colder.

So, it stands to reason that we should spend a lot of the time feeling like nobody really gives a shit. The tech bros don’t give a shit if you’re panicking about their robot army. The big box sellers don’t give a shit if you can’t make rent. The internet is too busy being angry or loud or contentious to give a shit that you’ve just launched a new book or revealed a cover. And that person who just scrolled past your post? They’ve got problems of their own to deal with.

And there you have it. Your horrible answer. Nobody gives a shit.

Except you haven’t asked the question. You’ve only answered it.

You’ve assumed.

I’ve always been against posting any of my author sales stats online. The reasons were twofold – first, I couldn’t imagine anyone actually giving a flying eff about it. The second was that I wasn’t particularly proud of those numbers. My first book did pretty well. I turned a profit within six months. My ratings were, on the whole, pretty positive. I didn’t reach bestseller status by any stretch, but within twelve months of debuting as an author, I’d sold what felt, at the time, like ‘a shit ton of books.

Then came book two of the series. Where We Men launched into the indie book sphere with a modest level of fanfare, The Hand That Casts the Bone limped into vision and then sat quietly in the corner where it was quickly forgotten. It didn’t – and still hasn’t – garnered even a third of the attention of its predecessor. Mostly because I didn’t do the right or adequate marketing for it – I know, I know, that’s on me. And the less said about The Hallows, the better. My lovely, misunderstood, flying-nun filled book languishes in the shadow of its Grimdark siblings.

“I wait for my mind to clear and the words to flow – and four appear, crashing into my brain like uninvited metaphorical elephants”

But I digress. A few weeks ago, I finally posted my sales figures online. If you really want to see them, you can scroll through my posts. But what does this have to do with people not giving a shit, I hear you cry? Well, let me circle back.

The process of writing my first book took around a year. The process of my second took around two years. Flash forward to today as I sit in front of my laptop and attempt to add another 500 words to my latest (and probably hundredth) draft of book three in The Vanguard Chronicles. I wait for my mind to clear and the words to flow – and four appear, crashing into my brain like uninvited metaphorical elephants. Playing on a loop. Who. Gives. A. Shit?

I had a similar wobble around Spotlight Indie. When we lost our event venue, I thought, would anyone actually care if we just didn’t do it? It would be easy for us to say – as we watch what appears to be the burning decline of creativity, community and compassion for others – that it just isn’t worth the bother. Because that would give us the perfect excuse not to do the tough stuff, wouldn’t it? A lovely get-out-of-jail card that would mean we could throw our hands up and say ‘well, it wasn’t my fault that we didn’t do it, nobody gave a shit’.

“Too often, our fragile egos need to know that someone cares about what we’re doing to make it feel worthwhile”

But recently I’ve been trying to rewire my brain. When we marched into the NERDY café last year and asked if we could hold an event for indie authors, they said yes – not because it was profitable for them – but because they gave a shit about supporting our community. Our sponsors took a chance on a new event to support indie authors and artists, because they gave a shit. Just over a year ago, I barely knew Frasier or Alex or Amber and yet, here we are because…yes, you guessed it.

Too often, our fragile egos need to know that someone cares about what we’re doing to make it feel worthwhile. When it feels like nobody gives a shit, it feels like nothing we do matters and therefore it doesn’t matter if we do nothing.

The trick is to reconcile with not knowing. And that’s really tough. You can track sales numbers, read reviews and harvest likes, but you can never truly measure the impact of your work. How many people it will matter to. But the answer will always be zero, unless you give them something to give a shit about. And then work really hard to help them find it.

Even then, you might never know. You just have to be OK with that and do it anyway.

We’ve been working really hard on Spotlight Indie since we first started all of this. There have been highs, lows, small wins, disappointments and challenges. As with anything, there have been times when I’ve asked myself if anything we are doing really matters.

We’re small.

We don’t have a big voice.

Yet.

Funnily enough, when I first sat down to write this article, I just happened to open our emails beforehand. There were two new messages from authors who had stumbled across the site and wanted to know if they could feature on it.

Like our sponsors, friends and all the people in this community who are relentlessly – albeit quietly in some cases – continuing to care in a world where nihilism is becoming the common language – these authors gave enough of a shit to keep trying.

And for as long as we’re around so will we.

You can find Holly’s books here