Two and a half years ago, shortly after my book Outside the Charmed Circle was published, I came across a request for a PDF of it on a subreddit known for distributing pirated books. Someone on that subreddit registered an objection to the book being, well, stolen goods, and another redditor responded with (a.) the dubious claim that pirated books drive sales, and (b.) even if they didn't, it was "a tax on the golden elite," meaning me.
"A tax on the golden elite." It's one of those phrases that sticks with you, especially when it's directed at you.
To date, my humble little book has sold somewhere around 2,000 copies. My royalty rate is pretty standard for authors in the niche I write in, right around a dollar a copy. This means that, since the preorders for the book were first opened in (I believe) December of 2019, I've made somewhere around $2,000.
I can't even be glib or coy about this: two grand over the course of three years is not "golden elite" money. That's why I have a day job, and why I have no interest in pursuing full-time writing as a profession. Dying of consumption in drafty garrets is romantic nonsense, and so is the notion that my work, our work, should be a gift to "the community" without any recompense. We need to eat, and pay bills, and maybe even support other artists, too.
There isn't a week that goes by that I don't think about that phrase, "a tax on the golden elite," and how it made me feel. And you know what? That feeling sucks. It sucks worse than having TERFs say my book is garbage, worse than people leaving mediocre reviews on multiple platforms because it wasn't the book they expected to be, worse than my own family's disinterest in reading it. It sucks because, in a way, it's the ultimate insult. These are people who valued my work enough to want it for free, sure... but not enough to pay me for it.
They are, in a very real sense, erasing me from the work I created for them.
And if that sucks for me, I can only guess that it sucks for other artists, as well.