After the Book Launch

It’s been almost a month since my new book Write for Money and Power came out. And today? Someone painted a watercolor of it.

Not just someone — a publicist and book reviewer. A watercolor painting. Of my book. Paired with the longest (and kindest!) review of my book yet.

“In “Write for Money and Power,” Amy Suto arrives wearing two outfits at once: the silk robe of the artist and the tactical vest of the operator. She is here to romance you out of your shame about wanting money, then hand you a clipboard. She is here to seduce the starving artist myth into a dark alley and leave it there, blinking. She is here, most of all, to tell you that the modern writer’s problem is not talent. It’s architecture.” -Demetris Papadimitropoulos, book reviewer

It’s hard to explain what that feels like. It’s the kind of gesture that stops you mid-email, mid-to-do list, and makes you just sit there for a second, taking it in.

I’m floored. I’m flattered. I’m grateful — not only for that beautiful painting, but for the hundreds of kind messages, reviews, and reader posts that have flooded in since launch day. It’s been… a lot. In the best way.

So this post isn’t about the logistics (I’ll be doing a full cost breakdown and timeline over on my personal Substack Sutoscience soon for my fellow self-publishers). This is about the emotional side of launching a book. The adrenaline. The exhaustion. The quiet after the noise. And the satisfaction that only comes when you’ve just poured everything you’ve got onto the page.

I Was Just Going to Update a Few Chapters…

This book didn’t start as a new book.

After Six-Figure Freelance Writer came out back in 2023, I figured at some point I’d do a small update to the book. Add a section on Substack. Maybe talk about scaling. A few tactical tips. Nothing major.

But then I crossed a threshold.

I moved from being a six-figure freelance writer to a seven-figure writer. I was suddenly doing memoir ghostwriting projects that flew me across the world. Substack consults for bestselling creators. I was thinking differently. I had unlocked something. And just tacking on a few chapters to my old book didn’t feel honest.

I needed a fresh start. And a much bolder thesis.

The Book I Wish I Had at 21

I called my new book Write for Money and Power: The Anti–Starving Artist’s Guide to Becoming a Seven-Figure Writer because I wanted it to say the quiet part out loud.

I wanted to dismantle the myth that writers need to suffer to be “serious.” That you need a book deal to be a real author. That someone else has to give you permission before you can profit from your words.

This was the book I wish I’d had when I was 21 and waiting for a gatekeeper to say yes.

I’m so glad I stopped waiting.

Writing in Airports, Florence Cafés, and Between Client Calls

view from the writers’ retreat I went on in spring of 2025

The first real draft began after a writer’s retreat in Tuscany in 2025. I had just come off a trip to Copenhagen. It was one of those in-between times when the idea of the book had been swirling, and something clicked into place.

The writing was messy and nonlinear. I wrote between client projects. In airports. At cafés. At my standing desk on days when I had fifteen browser tabs open and twenty unread Substack DMs blinking at me.

Summer 2025 was a blur of outlining, restructuring, rewriting. I built this book with the same rigor I bring to client memoirs — two outlines, a clear theme, a driving emotional current — but it was also deeply personal.

This wasn’t just a how-to book. It was a philosophy. A rallying cry. A reframing of what it means to make money from your writing in this era.

Building the Dream Team

I brought in Haley Raymond as my publicist and Renee Puvvada as my book marketer.

We started planning the launch in July. We went deep: timelines, podcast outreach, Amazon strategy, media kits, press outreach. By August, we were running full steam ahead. By September, we were tired — but excited.

Meanwhile, I was still finalizing edits. I had over 90 beta readers (!!), many of whom offered incredibly thoughtful feedback. You’ll find a bunch of them in the acknowledgments, because this was truly a community-built book.

I wasn’t writing in a vacuum — I was writing alongside my Substack readers at both Sutoscience and Make Writing Your Job, taking their questions and pain points into the manuscript with me.

The Biggest Book Launch I’ve Ever Done

I knew this would be my biggest launch. And it was.

The final push began in November after returning from my 6 week trip to China. I started recording podcast interviews — dozens of them. Sometimes multiple in one day. I genuinely loved those conversations. Some hosts became friends. Others sent lovely emails after reading the book. It reminded me that this project had a pulse.

And then, a few weeks before the release date, I decided to host a 12-hour livestream for the book launch on Substack Live.

Twelve hours. Straight.

I brought on bestselling authors, public speakers, top Substack creators. We talked about creative freedom, financial transparency, burnout, abundance, all of it. It was exhilarating. It was exhausting. It was worth every minute.

By the end of launch week, I was totally depleted. I’ve written before about the emotional hangover that follows a book release. There’s no real off-ramp — just a freefall from adrenaline into stillness.

Top 10 on Amazon — and Still Processing It

We hit the top 10 of all business books on Amazon’s bestseller charts. We were also #1 on the Amazon bestseller before launch day.

Thousands and thousands of people bought the book.

And I still don’t totally know how to talk about that.

Success metrics are weird when the thing you’re measuring is your heart in book form. Of course I’m proud of the numbers. But I’m even more proud of the DMs and emails from writers who said they felt seen. The beta reader who said it helped them finally quit their job. The guy who sent me a photo of the book with coffee stains and underlines and dog-eared corners. That’s the dream.

Back to Granola and Celery Juice and Treadmill Desk Walks

Now that I’m a month post book launch, I’m starting to settle back into something like a routine.

I’m making homemade granola. Juicing celery for the week. Cooking actual meals instead of relying on delivery. I’m back to walking slowly on my treadmill desk while catching up on emails.

The house is quieter. My brain is, too. And that feels weird. But also welcome.

I’m still sending follow-ups for Amazon reviews (PSA: if you liked the book, a review genuinely helps so much). But the massive sprint is over.

And I can finally pause to look around.

Self-Publishing Was the Only Way This Book Could Exist

I could not have written this book under traditional publishing timelines or expectations.

It would have been diluted, delayed, or derailed. I would’ve been told to make it “less niche” or “more palatable” or “wait another year.”

No thank you.

Self-publishing let me write what I wanted to say, when I wanted to say it, in the exact voice I wanted to use.

That, to me, is power.

If You Haven’t Read It Yet…

It’s still $0.99 on Amazon.

Not because it’s cheap — but because I wanted to make it accessible. I want writers to have access to real strategies, real mindset shifts, and real proof that the starving artist myth is optional.

I hope it sparks something in you.

And thank you — for reading, for cheering me on, for reminding me that this work matters. I’ll never forget it.

–Amy