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.

Surviving a Collision with a Garbage Truck

By Mitch Arnold • June 29, 2025
I got hit by a garbage truck the other day, but was able to recover quickly, because it wasn’t the first time it happened, and it won’t be the last. It’s an unfortunate reality that everyone will occasionally run into a garbage truck through no fault of their own. (see ‘The Law of the Garbage Truck” below) One day I hopped in a taxi and we took off for the airport. We were driving in the right lane when suddenly a black car jumped out of a parking space right in front of us. My taxi driver slammed on his brakes, skidded, and missed the other car by just inches! The driver of the other car whipped his head around and started yelling at us. My taxi driver just smiled and waved at the guy. And I mean, he was really friendly. So I asked, ‘Why did you just do that? This guy almost ruined your car and sent us to the hospital!’ This is when my taxi driver taught me what I now call, ‘The Law of the Garbage Truck.’ He explained that many people are like garbage trucks. They run around full of garbage, full of frustration, full of anger, and full of disappointment. As their garbage piles up, they need a place to dump it! Sometimes they’ll dump it on you. Don’t take it personally. Just smile, wave, wish them well, and move on. Don’t take their garbage and spread it to other people at work, at home, or on the streets. The bottom line is that successful people do not let garbage trucks take over their day. The garbage truck in my latest collision was a prospect who I had never talked to, before picking up the phone and calling him about a position I was helping a client fill. Within seconds of introducing myself, his aggressive tone began to dominate. He demanded that I tell him who my client was and how much they were going to pay. I assured him that I would answer those questions once we determined that his background was a good fit and that he was interested in learning more. Finally, I offered to arrange a call at his convenience, when we could discuss the opportunity further. We never got to that point. After sending him some information on the opportunity, he repeated his earlier demands, this time through text messaging. In our exchange, I was able to determine that his background wasn’t a fit, so I thanked him for his time and asked if he could confidentially refer anyone. He responded by calling me a “god-awful recruiter.” I know that I’m a pretty good recruiter, and was fairly certain that he was a miserable person (garbage truck), but I held off on sharing those opinions with him. Instead, I just backed away, recalling “The Law of the Garbage Truck.” I wasn’t going to spend any more mental energy on him than I already had, and I surely wasn’t going to dump his garbage on someone else. Furthermore, I knew that my faith in humanity would soon be restored when I visited the gym over the lunch hour for my daily workout. Knowing that there are already too many garbage trucks wandering around out there, I try to be just the opposite, and the gym gives me a place to put that effort into practice. Because I appreciate friendly, positive people, I try to be one myself. I attempt to learn the names of the people I routinely see, like the front desk people, custodian and regular members, and I try to make connections with those who are receptive. And, I try to do that all with a smile, regardless of how I feel, even if I’m still stinging from a garbage truck collision. Per usual, the gym atmosphere didn’t disappoint. I exchanged pleasantries with people who expect me to be there at the same time almost every day, and enjoyed conversations that completely erased the garbage truck from my memory. Getting older has taught me that kindness pays dividends, and that even when it can’t save you from garbage truck collisions, it can certainly make them easier to recover from. Take the time to create a refuge of kindness that you can rely on when something like a garbage truck threatens to ruin your day. It’s worth the effort.

Acceptance vs. Resistance

By Mitch Arnold • May 28, 2025
I bought my first and only motorcycle in 1993. It probably wasn’t a good idea then, and it’s a much worse idea now, but that didn’t stop me from recently considering doing it again. I was only 23 years old and still in my invincible era, when I strapped on my helmet and rode off on my own two wheels for the first time. Understandably, a few naysayers shook their heads and voiced their opinions about me endangering a body that was already fraught with challenges; however, like I did often back then, I ignored their concerns, and was able to ride with no problems. To me, the motorcycle represented freedom. I loved being able to enjoy the open road. I even rode it on a thousand-plus mile round-trip journey to Sturgis for the annual motorcycle rally. Getting kind of smug, I began to envision myself as a life-long biker, but two years later, life intervened. I was moving half-way across the country and getting married, so the motorcycle had to go. In fact, I sold it to pay for an engagement ring, promising myself that I would buy another one when I was established and had the finances to do so. Things didn’t work out the way that I had planned. Fatherhood and home ownership ate up my finances and time, and a second motorcycle kept getting pushed down the line of priorities. Meanwhile, despite my best efforts, my body aged more quickly than I had hoped it would. For most of my life, my resistance to my physical limitations has enabled me to get the most out of imperfect body. Tell me that I couldn’t do something, and you could bet that I was going to try, if only to prove to myself that I could. That resistance allowed me to overcome significant challenges and to succeed when success didn’t seem likely. Lately though, as my limitations have grown and my sense of self-preservation has become stronger, I’ve been trending toward acceptance. Both acceptance and resistance are natural responses to change, and change happens to all of us, especially as we age. While resistance can challenge the status quo, sparking innovation and resilience, acceptance often opens the door to growth, fostering a sense of peace and adaptability. That’s where I’m at now, at least most of the time. Still, when my uncle told me that he was selling his motorcycle, those thoughts of acceptance were elbowed aside by thoughts of resistance. I began to rationalize motorcycle ownership and to imagine myself in the seat again, handlebars in my grip. I could now afford the bike of my dreams, and even had a spot in the garage to park it. I didn’t plan to ride it to Sturgis again, but I thought it would be fun to ride it to the gym and on quiet Sunday mornings, like I used to do. When I researched parking a motorcycle in a handicapped space, I should have realized the insanity of the idea, but resistance tamped down logic. My wife, to her credit, let me play those scenarios out in my head and gave me room to dream, knowing that logic would eventually prevail. And, it did. One slip-up on a bike, and I would suddenly and dramatically limit what I could do with the rest of my life. Accepting that reality was important, and I’m happy that I was able to do it. Being able to accept who I am – all of it, even the limitations – has given me peace and perspective. It’s not always easy to accept limitations and new realities, but it’s crucial if we want to live a life without regret, and I’m finally there.
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