How’s the Book Going?

Mitch Arnold • February 17, 2024

When I finally finished writing Marginal and felt that it was ready to publish, I invited a good friend of mine to breakfast to get his advice. Jeff Beals had written and published two books, one of which I was honored to consult on and edit. Furthermore, he travels the country, speaking on self-marketing. Outside of the publishing industry, there are few people more qualified to advise on the process of publishing and selling books.


Jeff was encouraging, but also very candid in his advice, saying that someone told him when he thought he was ready to publish his first book, “Congratulations on writing a book, but that’s the easy part. It’s much more difficult to get people to buy your book.” Those words have been rattling around in my skull for the two months since I published Marginal.


Initial sales were brisk and encouraging, but have since slowed down significantly. That’s not surprising, since I marketed the book primarily though my social media contacts. There are only so many books that my friends and family can buy. Now, I need to sell books to people who don’t know me or who aren’t connected to me in some other way. That’s where I can use your help.


As uncomfortable as self-promotion is, without a marketing budget behind me, it’s critical that I do it, and again, I need your help. If you have read the book, and you enjoyed it, AND you feel compelled to help, I would really appreciate it. If none of those three factors apply, don’t worry about it. Maybe you’ll like the next one.


Ways that You Can Help


Potential readers are skeptical of first-time novelists, especially if they don’t know the author. That’s why it’s critical that they are assured that the book is worth their time and money. There are three main ways that you can help me gain the credibility I need to sell more books:


Share an image of the book or a link to mitcharnold.com on your social media. In that post, relate how you enjoyed the book and/or why you recommend it. You don’t have to write an all-out review – no one expects you to be a professional book critic. A sentence or two will suffice. The accompanying image will catch more eyes than text, but if you don’t feel comfortable sharing an image, text is just fine.


Write a review on Amazon. Many active readers use Amazon to shop for books, and ratings and reviews matter to this audience. To gain credibility with these people, it’s critical that my Amazon page be active. Currently, I have only one review. I suppose that’s better than a bunch of bad reviews; still, a solo review doesn’t convey much “buzz” for the book. Again, you don’t have to write a high-level review – just a sentence or two about why the book appealed to you. The Amazon page for Marginal is here.


Encourage your friends who are avid readers to give the book a shot. For those of you who are avid readers, if you’re a member of an organization that discusses books, please consider sharing Marginal with them. Even if you’re not an avid reader, but you know someone who might enjoy the book, please recommend my book.


In a perfect world, I’d have a big-name publisher behind me, and they would have a marketing department actively promoting Marginal. That’s not the case here. In the current environment, it’s nearly impossible for a straight, white male with traditional pronouns to get an established publisher interested in reading his first manuscript, so I didn’t even try. Instead, I bet on myself and invested my time and resources in writing and publishing Marginal. Now, I can really use your help to realize my dream of writing a successful book. Thanks for your consideration and for reading this post.

But, Could It Be Better?

By Mitch Arnold • July 26, 2026
When facing challenging situations, my go-to response is often “it could be worse.” It’s raining: it could be worse. We could be scooping this stuff. It’s hot outside: it could be worse. At least we have air conditioning. The “it could be worse” response is a simple and common way of putting things into perspective, summoning at least a modicum of gratitude and showing the absurdity of petty complaining. Unfortunately, it can also blind us to the potential of “it could be better.” I say it aloud frequently when I am with people, but I also mutter “it could be worse,” to myself when I am alone and struggling with my mobility. That simple phrase has brought me peace and acceptance, as I have experienced progressive physical challenges throughout most of my entire adult life. While things could definitely be worse, and I’m right to summon gratitude when negativity creeps in, I was recently reminded that sometimes things could be better, and if that’s possible, I should do everything I can to make them better. For more than 40 years, I have lifted weights five to six times per week, and that has allowed me to maintain a fairly active lifestyle, but lifting alone isn’t cutting it anymore. Despite frequent exercise, I have struggled to get around more than usual for the past year or so, and that has made my world even smaller. Despite this, I persisted with a positive attitude and told myself, “it could be worse.” Not until the discomfort and limitations began to prevent me from doing things I should be doing, like meeting friends for breakfast, did I consider the possibility that things could be better. Making sure that I realized this was my wife Lynda who had been on me to try physical therapy, since my primary physician wrote a prescription for it a year and a half ago. I resisted because, though I am positive about almost everything else, I was pessimistic about what modern medicine could do for me. I had done physical therapy as a child, and have undergone several medical procedures that did little to improve my condition and seemed to provide only frustration. How was this going to be different? But it was. After only two sessions and a daily regimen of stretching and purposeful movement over the past four weeks, plus the strength training, I have already improved my mobility. Stairs are easier and walking, less painful and troublesome. That has greatly helped my energy level, focus and confidence. Even when I fell and sprained my ankle a couple of days ago, the recovery was easier. While things could definitely be better, they could also be much worse, as they were for me a month or so ago. Had I not relented and at least considered the possibility that things could be better, I would have continued being unnecessarily limited. Are you unnecessarily limited? If you are going through a difficult period in your life – maybe your job or a relationship isn’t as fulfilling as it once was – consider the possibility that things could be better. Always lean into gratitude for what you have, but don’t let resignation obscure options for improvement.

Don’t Skimp on Experience

By Mitch Arnold • May 25, 2026
Recently, as occasionally happens when I watch the golfers on the course behind my home, I caught myself thinking about what it would be like to be out there again. Only this time, I also thought about the cost of golf, and began calculating how much I’ve saved by not golfing over the past 20-some years. Of course, I would rather golf than have the money I saved by not golfing, but due to a physical disability that increasingly limits my life, that isn’t an option. Thus, instead of fretting about something I can’t change, I comforted myself with math and tested my mastery of the positive explanatory style . With green fees, cart and the obligatory cold beverages, I estimated that each round would have cost me around $75. If I got out twice per month over five months of relatively nice Nebraska weather, I would golf approximately ten rounds per year, for a cost of $750. Multiply that by 20 years, and I’ve saved $15,000 or the cost of a pretty nice motorcycle. I used to ride motorcycles too, but haven’t been able to do that in more than 30 years. If I were still riding motorcycles, I figure that I would have probably had at least two during that time. Factoring in taxes, insurance and maintenance, I estimate that I’ve saved nearly $50,000 by not riding motorcycles for the past three decades. I also haven’t used a comb or paid for a haircut in nearly 30 years. However, unlike golf and motorcycles, that has nothing to do with my disability and everything to do with my genetics. Still, by avoiding monthly haircuts at $20 a pop, I’ve been able to save over $7000. I share this exercise with you not to try to talk you out of spending money on the things that bring you happiness, quite the opposite actually. You should absolutely do the things you love while you still can. In almost all cases, the money you spend on experiences is an investment in your life, and you owe it to yourself to get the most out of life that you can. Most of us, at some point in our lives, will lose the ability to do the things that once brought us happiness, and all that we will have left will be the memories. When that happens, we should cherish the memories of all that we have experienced, and look for other outlets to enhance our lives. Travel now fills the gaps once occupied by golf and motorcycles. With the help of my wife and some incredibly supportive friends, I’ve been able to visit some remarkable places like Charleston and Nashville, and enjoy unforgettable experiences, like a Green Bay Packers football game and the NCAA Final Four. Admittedly, travel gets a little more difficult each year, but that only increases my urgency to do more of it and enhances my gratitude of what I can still do, because I know that, some day, if I live long enough, I’ll be calculating the money I’m saving by not travelling. Television writer and producer Taylor Sheridan agrees, as you can see in this clip from the Paramount+ series, The Madison. https://www.youtube.com/shorts/tydIBHknM_s Don’t wait until everything is in order to invest in experiences. Accept the golf invitation. Buy the motorcycle. Take the trip. Prioritize making memories while you still can, because some day, those memories are going to be more valuable than whatever you have in the bank.