I’m a novelist who writes dystopian, apocalyptic, and crime fiction. My current income from over 40 books is far less than I made from far fewer books in 2011. I have to be honest, though. I can’t be mad about it.
Most of my readers are from the United States, where health insurance premiums are shooting up. Disposable income is down. It’s spiraled into a dystopian nightmare where Nazis write their own warrants to bust into homes. Children are getting kidnapped by government agents. Innocent people are assaulted and incarcerated without due process.
You’ve seen the video of a gaggle of ICE agents murdering people in Minnesota while gaslighters from the federal government libel the victims and tell you not to trust your lying eyes.
Reading novels isn’t the priority right now. Protesting, justice, and a general strike are top of mind. This is not to devalue art. It’s a sad acknowledgment of what is. I see you. I care. Yes, fiction can act as a wonderful distraction from ugly reality. Novels transport us. I love putting movies in your heads. That’s not the mood many are in right now. I get that, and I am sincerely sorry for all you’re going through.
My hope is that sanity will return. My wish is that all of you will be safe. My worry is that, though the chaos is concentrated in Minnesota at the moment, you are all in danger. One day, this will all be over. As the famous book title goes, one day everyone will always have been against this.
In my neighborhood, there is a cursed place. Today, that location is a new sushi restaurant. Before that? A Burger Factory. Before that? A forgotten string of failures. A new renter arrives with fresh ideas and colossal hope. After a year or two, another restaurateur takes up the challenge and shoulders the curse. Why anyone invests all their life savings in a restaurant is a mystery to most. To anyone who does not share the dream of making unappreciated food for an oblivious public, it is madness.
I would never invest in a restaurant, but I understand the passion for the risk.
Some clods don’t think writing a book is “real work.” They devalue the effort and call it a hobby. Some even want it all for free. It’s just typing, after all, right? Hell, in weak and depressed moments, I’ve called it an expensive hobby! When a reviewer says, “I don’t understand why this book isn’t a bestseller,” all I can say is, “Me, neither, man.”
And how many people really have the time, energy, and attention span to read anymore? Is this really a job or a fairly pointless compulsion? What kind of fool wasted months or years to compose a novel?
Here, I raise my hand. I’m that kind of fool. I don’t know if my next book will be a smash hit, but I enter into every story with that same hope. It’s madness, really.
A peek into how my workday began
After only a few hours of sleep, I think I woke up around 3:30 a.m. I lay in bed with wild thoughts about Where The Night Takes Us. The manuscript needed an extra kick to get the grand seduction going. It’s a dance to draw readers in, and the steps were not quite right yet. I deleted a chapter yesterday to speed up the pacing. I added something crucial to the beginning yesterday, too. Satisfaction eluded me. What else would make the recipe sweeter?
Gave up on sleep at 4 a.m.
The nagging sense that I’d lose some sugar made me crawl out of bed and to my laptop. More words, particular and well-chosen, had to get written before I could lose the thread. I had to sew some seams and make the presentation more appetizing. Perfection is always out of reach, but at least I can make it more right.
Officially, Where The Night Takes Us will be my thirtieth novel. I’ve been here before. The energy behind the compulsion to get it published is always the same. Years ago, a novelist’s house caught fire. He braved the flames to reenter the burning building to save his manuscript. I get it, but it’s madness, isn’t it?
Anyway, I caught the words before they could slip away. If this is a curse, I must enjoy it. When the manuscript is fully baked and out of the oven, I hope you’ll enjoy my madness.
It is now 5:15 a.m., and my brain is buzzing. I may as well stay up and keep cooking. Somewhere out there, I have to believe hungry readers are waiting for my next concoction.
I got to the grocery store early for more yogurt because I found a fake cheesecake recipe you’ll want to eat every day, all day (below).
Crossword (Done! I abhor cross words, but I love crosswords.)
Read more of The Children of Men. Damn, this is a good book.
Study French.
Workout at home today (kettlebell, mobility, balance, bodyweight exercises, stationary bike, boxing, & lots of squats).
I am working through the third draft polish of Where The Night Takes Us. (Greatest challenge: timeline logistics.)
Now, to that fake cheesecake that’s going to blow your mind:
1 cup plain high-protein yogurt
1 egg
1 tablespoon cornstarch
splash of lemon and/or lemon zest
Optional: sweetener
Mix it up, slam it in a ramekin, bake at 350 for 12 minutes, review Vengeance Is Hers and/or join the review team for Where The Night Takes Us, and enjoy!
Optional: top with berries.
You’re going to love it.
If you like 1984, The Burning Library, It Can Happen Here, or A Different Drummer…
A woman in a car waves for cars to go around her. ICE agents issue conflicting commands, one telling her to go and another insisting she get out of the car. An ICE agent steps in front of her car, phone in one hand recording, the other hand going for his weapon. Terrified and confused, the woman backs up and turns her wheels so she won’t run over anyone. No one is in front of her car as she begins to go. The woman is shot by ICE. A physician begs to check on her. ICE officers refuse. “We have our own medics.” “Where are they?” a woman screams. She is told to relax. “How can I relax when you just killed my fucking neighbor?” Medics don’t arrive for fifteen minutes. Meanwhile, two minutes after shooting the woman, the killer walks away calmly, gets in his car, and drives away.
In a normal world:
Law enforcement would look like law enforcement, not masked goons cosplaying their power fantasies. They’d have better training. ICE would conform to codes of conduct and have stricter rules of engagement than soldiers do in a war zone. Peace officers ask themselves, “Must I shoot?”, not “Can I shoot?” Being filmed should temper ICE response. It doesn’t. The shooter shouldn’t have walked away. His superior should have taken his weapon as evidence for the investigation. Call it what it is. He fled a crime scene.
In a better world, those in power could admit mistakes. They would announce that there would be an investigation. They wouldn’t lie so badly that anyone could see the difference between what they say and what all the video shows. The President wouldn’t claim the shooter had been run over and was recovering in the hospital. The vice president wouldn’t libel the murdered woman. Yale-trained sophist JD Vance (AKA James Donald Bowman alias James David Hamel) would know the difference between “immunity” and impunity.”
And remember when Kristi Noem claimed they had arrested the girlfriend of the founder of Antifa?
Whatever happened to that case? How has the press forgotten it? The original Antifa emerged in Europe early in the last century. That girlfriend must really be a tough old lady not to have given up all her secrets by now.
At the conclusion of Citizen Second Class, I found a relatively peaceful way out from under a grasping authoritarian regime. That was fiction. Reality is not so neat.
Fishing boats that could never make it to the United States from Venezuela are blown up. The killers don’t even know who they killed. Outlandish claims are used to justify colonialism and tyranny. Old allies are threatened while old enemies are embraced. People who seemed smart are working toward a future that values AI over human beings. Dumb and bigoted monsters spew hate-filled sophistry. Christian identity is placed above actual Christian values. Journalists who don’t ask follow-up questions become abused stenographers. Upholding the law is only for the lowly. Judgment is left to future historians instead of the courts. Dangerous users are protected by the powerful, and the helpless have no voice. A buffoonish conman with dementia has the nuclear codes.
This is not a complete list.
Q: What will 2026 bring?
Ar: More of the same.
Q: What can we do?
A: Hold on.
The same hate that brought the haters together will tear them apart. Their incompetence is the root of their failure. As the former cult members are betrayed by their champion’s false promises, they will peel off. Whistleblowers will find their breath. Former true believers will discover they have a spine after all. Eventually, many who voted for him will pretend they’ve never heard the name. When he comes up, they’ll look away and try to shift the conversation to anything else.
One day, we’ll look back and ask, “Why didn’t we have to wait for them to implode? Why didn’t the courts stop him? Why didn’t everyone laugh in his face? Where were you when the veil fell from everyone’s eyes? Why were you so quiet?”
About Me
I write fiction. I don’t like bullies. I trust science and distrust authority. I try to keep my worries to the things I can control. I escape into fiction by reading it and writing it.
About You
If you don’t agree, you won’t like my work, and we definitely should not be friends. Until you have your road to Damascus moment, that’s the way it is.
If you are a reader who feels as I do, we should be friends, and you’re going to love my books.
~ I am Robert Chazz Chute, the winner of fifteen writing awards. I pen crime stories, psychological thrillers, and apocalyptic epics, and I remain defiant.
First, a quick update, because you have to eat your meat before you get your pudding.
November was a very productive month for me. I’m flirting with a repetitive strain injury with all the time at the keyboard, but it’s really paying off. I participated in the ProWritingAid Challenge (the replacement for NaNoWriMo) and finished the first draft of my next thriller. It’s about a retired FBI forensic psychiatrist whose past comes back to haunt him. I’m plowing through the second draft now and loving it. More on that in the new year.
This fall, I started up the Vocab Menace Series, putting out videos every day. I LOVE WORDS! I love learning their origins and playing with ideas and I’ve had a lot of fun with it. I will continue, but not every day.
Evaluating Social Media
For years, I posted regularly on my writing blog (ChazzWrites.com). That was helpful early in my publishing career. I connected with some wonderful authors and made allies. Eventually, I decided it was best to consolidate my posts on my author blog and only post when I had something new and trenchant to say.
I found that posting everywhere (Bluesky, YouTube, Threads, Instagram, LinkedIn, Medium, Substack, TikTok, and the Book of Faces) takes a lot of time. Not all those platforms are worth the energy I invested.
My impressions of the usefulness of social media platforms (your mileage may vary):
I find the user interface for Bluesky and Threads unfriendly. The people are nice, but the platforms are not where they need to be yet. Discoverability is an opaque enigma wrapped in a burrito of mystery.
YouTube is good. Eventually, YouTube might pay me actual money.
One of the most active content categories on Medium is writing. Put that in your keywords, and people will look. Medium’s interface is cool, but following and connecting with people there is probably more useful than dedicating too much time to post every day. Because they are so alike, I feel similarly about Substack. I’m posting less on Medium now, more on Substack.
I’m not looking for a job or writing business books, so LinkedIn is a waste of time and energy.
I like Instagram. As a news source, I find many of the creators I follow there provide thoughtful commentary.
For the authors out there, BUT WAIT! THERE’S MORE!
As for Facebook, you can have a lot of followers, but your audience is far too throttled. They want you to pay to have your content seen. There are many ways it’s problematic. However, I connect with my inner circle of readers there.
I enjoy Facebook for my fan page and hope they never delete it. That happens sometimes, and when it happens, you probably won’t even know why. As a writer hoping to sell my work, it’s always best for me to have my own platform that can’t be ripped away.
The trouble with TikTok
TikTok has really fallen in terms of usefulness and tone. I used to be addicted to political debates there, but my favorite content creators left the platform. Others are competent, but very repetitive. Mostly, the live debates are angry people talking over each other. (Oh, and don’t forget the racist trolls. Lots of those.)
TikTok is a special case in some ways. BookTok can be great, but is often repetitive, covering the same few books (read: rarely mine). Also, some of the BookTok drama is ridiculous.
I would pursue book promotion there more avidly, but things are about to change for the worse. If you’re a Canadian author, sending review copies to the United States is expensive. To complicate things further for non-American authors, TikTok will soon become a walled garden, for the United States only. The details on that change are muddy, but when that happens, I won’t be able to reach my American readers through that platform. (That’s a shame. Most of my readers are from the United States.)
Conclusions
When my American readers can only see other Americans on TikTok, the platform’s value will plunge even further.
Between the forest of TikTok-friendly language and the suppression of posts meant to appease political actors and the new owners, TT’s once robust foundation will eventually sink into the shifting sands of irrelevancy.
Unless another app rises in TikTok’s stead, the change in ownership will benefit Instagram.
LinkedIn is for business. Not my business, though.
If you post for self-expression alone, enjoy using whatever platform you like.
From a time management perspective, don’t invest too much energy trying to post everywhere. It’s a lot to keep up with, and the juice isn’t worth the squeeze.
For gaining visibility and leverage social media platforms, follow and engage with people you enjoy.
Authentic engagement has more value than solely sending out signals.
Agents and publishers are obsessed with follower count. They shouldn’t be. Follower count means much less than engagement.
Social media is free to use for book promotion, but you get what you pay for. Author Jason Pargin posts excellent content. He has said that even with all his followers, that work does not translate significantly to a greater readership.
There are plenty of book marketing strategies out there. Some gurus push complicated flow charts of funnels. They all enthuse about newsletters. Some content creators make money from sharing “the newest trick.” The solution to selling books may be going direct, going wide, learning how to advertise (and funding it), keyword optimization, consistent branding, or some combination of all of the above, plus something else. Answers abound, but social media alone surely isn’t the cheap, easy solution.
You can’t make a viral video happen. Others choose that for you. I’ve gone viral once, but only because I made a lot of trolls angry. TikTok hid a lot of the nastiest comments because “the collapsed comments could be detrimental to your mental well-being.” Ha! As if my mental well-being was all that great to begin with! I could see the threats, and I had a peek. I just had to click on them to see the tidal waves of crash-outs.
My question: If the platform’s AI detects mean messages suggesting harm to me, why doesn’t the platform ban those trolls?
The hullabaloo hardly mattered in the end. The experience did lower my estimation of my fellow humans, but I didn’t respond to the trolls much. Arguing with fascists who are determined to be idiots is the ultimate waste of time. Always preserve your peace (between the punching Nazis thing, I mean).
On reaching readers:
All social media platforms suppress your signal to some degree.
To break through all the noise requires time, talent, energy, editing, and savvy marketing. Consistency is paramount, but only if you have the time and energy. As much as I love posting Vocab Menace content, it was cutting into my writing time. To get the next book out, protect that time. Prioritize productivity.
My writing time and energy is paramount to me at present. That much is working. My next thriller will be released early in 2026. That’s a concrete achievement I can measure.
~ REMINDER: Buy your books for Christmas now so you can read them before you wrap them for others.Happy holidays!
Chute’s thought-provoking crime thriller tells the story of Molly Jergins, a bright, restless teenager who grows up in the small town of Poeticule Bay, Maine, a tight-knit, picturesque village floundering and long dominated by a single powerful family. When Keith Faun, the town’s hockey star and the son of its most influential businessman, brutally assaults a younger boy and escapes punishment, Molly finds herself consumed with revenge fantasies. Her petty pranks soon escalate into a campaign to drive the Fauns out of town: she sabotages their family business and publicly damages their credibility, with each act calculated to chip away not only at their sense of untouchability but also the broader community that enables it.
At its core, this novel is an exploration of the insular dynamics unique to small towns—blind loyalty to old families, unthinking hostility toward outsiders, and reflexive protection afforded to their golden boys. What stands out most are not the creative revenge sequences but the way cruelty is normalized: a principal who dismisses violence, a sheriff more concerned with reelection than law enforcement, neighbors who carry on like it’s business as usual. Here, Chute (author of Endemic) pushes readers to consider whether such institutions can really be trusted with justice—or if it falls to individuals to enforce it.
This ethical dilemma is embodied most clearly in Molly herself. While she obviously cares about fairness, her obsessive tendencies leave readers questioning whether she is driven by justice or simply by her power to deliver it. The story’s pace sometimes falters under the sheer number of revenge plots, with these convoluted sequences limiting Molly’s character development—but she remains a complex, morally gray protagonist who readers will want to follow, if only to see how far she will go. Overall, those who are drawn to dark small-town noir will enjoy the clarity with which this gripping tale examines power and complicity.
Takeaway: Dark small-town thriller examining the blurred line between justice and obsession.
