Have you ever followed advice from a big-name author who swore by a particular marketing strategy, only to try it yourself and see it flop? Or maybe you’ve noticed an author friend succeeding with an unconventional approach that’s supposed to “never work,” and yet, it’s a wild success. Why do some books sell like hotcakes while other equally well-crafted books struggle?
Book marketing isn’t one-size-fits-all.
What works for an author in Los Angeles might bomb for one in Louisiana, and that’s before considering genre, personality, or audience. Your success hinges on finding a strategy tailored to your book, your readers, and your unique personality. But you don’t have to start from scratch.
You’re not a completely unique snowflake. There are similarities between you and other authors. Learning from those similarities can help you climb the learning curve faster. Certain strategies tend to work for specific types of authors, and knowing which group you fit into can guide you toward the techniques most likely to work for you and your book.
So, how do you figure out which group you belong to? The answer lies in Author Ecosystems, a framework designed to help you discover the marketing style that fits you best.
I sat down with Russell Nohelty, a USA Today bestselling author and creator of How to Cultivate a Thriving Author Ecosystem, to dive into this concept.
What is an author ecosystem?
Russell: We believe authors aren’t doing marketing wrong; they’re doing the wrong marketing. To explain what an ecosystem is, let me share how we developed this concept.
My partner Monica and I have run our Writer MBA company for years, releasing courses and books on everything from wide distribution to Kickstarter and direct sales. We noticed something that some seven-figure authors launching on Kickstarter barely made $1,000, while others with a 100-person mailing list raked in $10,000. We wondered, “What’s going on here?”
Why do some succeed while others, getting the same advice, don’t?
We knew these authors were skilled at marketing because they were earning five, six, or seven figures online. They understood the core concepts. However, we found that certain platforms and strategies work better for specific types of authors.
For years, we focused on retailer-only strategies, but when you expand to subscriptions, conventions, crowdfunding, or website sales, those old strategies often fall flat. Authors trying to force a square peg into a round hole were struggling. Meanwhile, others who adapted their strategies to the right platforms were thriving even though it wasn’t the platform or approach they initially wanted.
From this, we identified five general paths to success, which we call ecosystems: Deserts, Grasslands, Tundras, Forests, and Aquatics. Each has unique strengths, weaknesses, platforms, and strategies that work best.
Thomas: I love this metaphor because humans, even ancient ones, have lived in all five of these biomes, but their approaches differ drastically. In a desert, it’s all about water conservation, knowing when to be outside, and handling the heat. In an Aquatic environment, it’s about fishing. A desert nomad might never have eaten a fish. Who you’re getting advice from matters. Knowing where you’re “planted” helps you bloom where you are.
What’s a Desert author ecosystem?
Russell: Deserts are the traditional successful authors. They excel at optimization and data analysis, quickly spotting trends and writing books to capitalize on them. Like animals in a desert, they’re fast. They scuttle between patches of shade, conserving energy, and pouncing when they see an opportunity. They’ll say, “The hot trend is obviously X, Y, Z. I’ll write a book in a month and get it out there.” Their love language is crafting the perfect encapsulation of a genre, delivering exactly what the audience expects without deviation.
Deserts stick to the formula. I have friends who say, “You have to do X in this genre. That’s what readers expect.” My response is, “That’s why I want to shake things up!” But a Desert says, “I see my audience, and my goal is to satisfy as many of them as possible by sticking to the exact formula.”
They’re also prime candidates for ghostwriting, writing in shared universes, or copyediting. Like chameleons, they adapt to any genre’s style without needing to express their own voice. That’s their strength, but it’s also their biggest challenge.
Thomas: Let’s talk about tools and techniques for Deserts. One that comes to mind is K-Lytics. If you’re chasing trends and want to know what’s hot and underserved, a fresh K-Lytics report can be gold.
Russell: Actually, Desert would say, “Once it’s in a K-Lytics report, the trend’s already over.” Deserts are out there lurking in reader groups, watching the top 100 lists daily, and tracking shifts in real time. They rarely admit they’re Deserts because they’re too busy observing. A K-Lytics report is for everyone else. Deserts read it and think, “There’s about to be a glut, so I’m out.”
They work on arbitrage. If a genre can support 5,000 books, they aim to get theirs in early to fill the gap between demand and supply. They often skip newsletters or heavy social media because speed is their game.
Deserts might write a six-book series because six is the “perfect” series length. They hit a trend, publish fast, and move on before the market saturates. So, while people think K-Lytics is for Deserts, it’s really for non-Deserts.
Thomas: Arbitrage is a great term here. Economists say it doesn’t exist, but businesspeople find it all the time. When you spot a micro-genre with a demand for 5,000 books but only 4,000 written, you start filling that bucket. As more authors pile in, it hits saturation faster. Deserts aren’t slogging it out to be the best; they’re aiming to be the fastest.
Russell: Exactly. Deserts aren’t just fast; they’re strategic about it. Their books often skim the surface, not because they’re shallow, but because the genre’s still forming, and you don’t even know what the genre is yet.
They see ten books doing well with pirates and sea shanties, so they hit those key elements and get the book out.
Unlike Aquatics or Forests, who might not notice a trend until it’s past arbitrage, Deserts can jam a book through Amazon ads, use Kindle Unlimited, and make a fortune without a newsletter. They’re SEO wizards, algorithm masters, and the ones going viral on social media because they dissect platforms. They’ll say, “Why can’t you just do this?” and I’m like, “Because my brain doesn’t work that way!” Deserts see virality, spot hot topics, and act instantly to make 20 TikTok videos on a trending topic before the opportunity vanishes.
Thomas: Another metaphor would be a gold rush. In a gold rush, the first person to find gold in a river just picks it up. The initial wave of prospectors pans for gold, but soon, all the easy gold is gone. Later, you need mines, machinery, and a whole town to keep going.
Deserts are like the first to the river, grabbing the easy gold before it gets tough. That’s why they’re ahead of K-Lytics. K-lytics is bringing in the first wave of people panning for gold before the settlers come in.
What is a Grassland author?
Russell: Grasslands make their living through depth. They systematize their audience, noticing patterns in what drives success in a genre.
For example, a cozy mystery author will have written 20 cozy mysteries before the trend even takes off. While Deserts excel at spotting what’s hot now, Grasslands are great at predicting what’ll be hot in 18 to 24 months. They write piles of content, building a foundation before there’s even a hint of arbitrage before Deserts start sniffing around.
Their goal is to spark the trend and dominate it. They aim to be the number-one series in their genre. An example would be Elena Johnson, with her hundred cowboy romances, or George R.R. Martin, who’s been a titan in grimdark.
Grasslands have to be number one, two, or three because they thrive on everyone who enters the genre reading their books and citing them. They’re masters at backlinks and systematizing how a genre functions. Unlike Deserts, who want fewer books in their space to protect their arbitrage, Grasslands want more books written once they’re on top. They write long series, usually 10 books or more, of what I call “signature series.” It might be a million-word omnibus that defines the genre. It’s the series you read when you dive into that genre.
Both Deserts and Grasslands use data, but they use it differently. K-Lytics, for example, would be a great Grassland company because while a Desert has no motivation to bring new people in because it ruins their arbitrage and signals a flooded market, a Grassland says, “Here’s an opportunity! Look at all you can do! This is hot right now!” They’re always pulling more people into the genre. They win by building momentum. Like a snowball rolling downhill, the bigger it gets, the more they win.
Thomas: Every author writing in the genre brings new readers to it. If you’re number one, readers will read your book after they finish whatever book drew them in. Grasslands don’t see other authors as competition because they know their book is better.
Russell: It almost always is better. Grasslands aim to be the canon. When you read grimdark, you’re probably reading Joe Abercrombie or George R.R. Martin. For the past 30 years, Martin’s been in every conversation about the genre. His series is one of the five that everyone reads. A Grassland’s job is to stay in that conversation as often as possible. They don’t need to market heavily day-to-day because their books are recommended, searched, and talked about. They got in early, so their name dominates.
Thomas: This feels like a Pareto distribution’s short-head versus long-tail strategy. (In the video version, we’ll show a Pareto chart to illustrate.) Sometimes called the 80/20 principle, the Pareto distribution shows the top authors in a genre earning most of the money.
Online, there’s a long tail where lesser-known authors make good money. They may not make as much as George R.R. Martin, and Hollywood deals are less likely, but they can earn money. The number-one author often earns five or ten times more than the number-two author. Earnings drop off fast. Being the king of the genre has huge advantages.
Everyone wants to be a Grassland, but statistically, most authors won’t make it.
Russell: Grasslands don’t just jump on trends; they nurture nascent genres. They’ll say, “Grimdark is saturated, but cozy fantasy is on the rise and is the next big thing.” They spot arbitrage long before Deserts do.
Take our experience with Writer MBA and Kickstarter, for example. Deserts hesitated because no one was using it yet. Once it caught on, everyone was like, “Have you heard of Kickstarter?” And I’m like, “Yes, I literally wrote the methodology for it.” We rode that wave high and still benefit from it. People cite our book and methodology without us pushing ads. It’s all word-of-mouth now. I don’t talk much about Kickstarter anymore unless someone asks. I’ve moved on to author ecosystems or my capitalism book, but that early work keeps paying off in the background.
What is a Tundra author?
Russell: A Tundra author thrives on excitement. A Tundra ecosystem is lush and green for a season, then fallow for a stretch. In the same way, a Tundra author will have a big launch that rockets them to the top of their genre, and then they fade back for a while.
Authors like Skye Warren or J.A. Huss exemplify this, riding the long tail of success. They hit number one, then slowly sink as they vanish for months. A perfect example is an author who tops the charts with a launch, disappears for six months, and resurfaces with their next big release. You’re left wondering, Where did they go? They seem to vanish off the face of the earth.
They pull this off by stacking evergreen tropes together, timing their releases when excitement peaks for multiple tropes. It’s like, “Hey, here’s trope X, trope Y, YA, plus A, B, C, D, and E all in one series!” This draws a wide audience because there’s something for everyone, and it fuels that explosive launch.
Thomas: For years, I ran a course called the Book Launch Blueprint, and it was fascinating because some authors saw incredible results, but others didn’t. I’d tell them, “If you’re doing rapid release, my method won’t work for you.” It was designed as a traditional-publisher-style launch for big books and adapted for indies. It required six months of buildup for PR, tours, podcasts, and tons of prep for a burst of attention. Post-launch, you’re spent. It’s exhausting, especially for introverts dealing with readers, the press, and strangers. It’s fun, but afterward, you’re like, “I need a break. Back to my cave.”
Some authors recharge by writing. I did an episode on Brandon Sanderson’s Crop Rotation Writing Method, where I explained how he rests from one task by switching to another, which fuels his prolific output.
Others recharge by playing video games for a month or taking a complete break. These aren’t the “write every morning at 5 AM” types. They’re the ones who retreat to a cabin, write intensely, launch intensely, and then rest intensely.
Russell: The biggest issue with Tundra authors is they don’t spend enough time recovering or rebuilding their audience. Of all the author types, Tundras lose the most subscribers. The fastest way to shed fans is to ask for money. Monetization is a major friction point. A two-week or month-long launch with daily emails will burn through subscribers fast. If you’re not laying the groundwork for the next launch, you can’t sustain momentum.
Some authors think, “I made $10,000 on one launch, so I’ll do ten launches next year!” But without a strategy to grow your audience between launches, you’ll burn out, your readers will burn out, and you’ll spread the same revenue thinner. You’ll have ten $1,000 launches instead of one $10,000 launch. That’s not sustainable, especially with the added production costs.
Thomas: Tundra authors also attract a different kind of reader. It’s like saying, “I had a great 4th of July parade, so let’s have one every month.” The annual parade is special because it’s rare. Some readers devour a book a day on Kindle Unlimited, but others are more casual readers who buy just one or two books a year for a beach trip or Christmas break.
Launches help authors find these casual readers who are typically beyond the author’s regular reader ecosystem. If you want their attention, you need a lot of buzz all at once.
But that beach reader who loved your book won’t buy another one in September because they don’t read books in September. They’re busy or slow readers, so they may not finish your book until December. That’s when they’re ready to buy again. If you don’t realize your audience is these casual readers, you won’t reach them.
Russell: Tundra authors also tend to write denser books, often pushing past the Overton window of reader expectations. Compare that to Desert authors, who excel at rapid releases with “shallow” books that skim the surface for quick consumption. Tundra books might weave ten tropes together, demanding more from readers. You can’t skim them like a Desert book and still get the full experience. This changes the reading style and the audience.
I fell into this trap myself, thinking I’d release more books to make a living. If your book sells for $10, you need volume through rapid releases, a long series, or a massive launch that pulls every trope together. But this attracts different readers with different expectations. Some books I read are light and easy, like candy. Others are dense, and I need to be in the mood for them. As a Tundra-leaning author, I release my series all at once, focus attention on it, and then step back, letting readers enjoy it over the next six months at their own pace.
Thomas: One risk for Tundras, especially those who disappear for long stretches, is hurting their email deliverability. Readers who follow dozens of authors might forget you and think, “Who’s this emailing me?” Or their email might expire, causing bounces. Or your messages might land in spam. ISPs notice high bounce rates and start filtering you to spam instead of inboxes.
Email best practices suggest sending at least quarterly to clear out dead addresses, as they can turn into honeypots that quietly divert your emails to spam. It’s fine to recover from a season of intense writing, but don’t vanish completely. You need to keep the channel open and provide value beyond just selling your latest book.
Russell: We get really hung up on “providing value” and forget the books themselves are the value.
When you send sales emails during a launch, you’re giving readers what they want. Grassland authors, for example, shy away from launches because they hate asking for money, but readers can get frustrated if you don’t remind them about your book.
Value isn’t just recommending other books or chatting about unrelated topics like haunted houses. The book is the core value. I don’t care what George R. R. Martin ate for breakfast. I just want him to finish the book. Same with Brandon Sanderson. I love his writing tips, but I’m here for the next Cosmere book. Launches are exciting for readers, and you shouldn’t begrudge that. It’s not specific to Tundras, but it’s worth noting that the book itself is the main value you deliver.
Thomas: Especially for fiction, there’s only so much value you can add in a newsletter beyond recommending good books and your own work. Nonfiction is different. You can spiral out with advice, podcasts, or YouTube content to build goodwill.
But for cozy romance, your list is about cozy romance. If subscribers don’t want that, they’re not your audience, so losing them isn’t a real loss. They were never going to buy your book anyway.
What is a Forest author?
Russell: A Forest author is almost the opposite of a Desert author. Think about the adoption curve: Grasslands are your early adopters, and Deserts are the early majority, building the foundation. Then, at the very peak, you have Tundras. Tundras come in at the top of the excitement curve, right before it tips downward, which is why their timing is so critical. They often finish a series and say, “It’s not ready yet; it’s not the right time to launch,” and hold onto it for a while.
A Forest author, though, is the late majority. They’ve read every book in the genre, but they’re slow to write in it. They’ve almost missed the trend. Yet, Forests are arguably the most essential part of the ecosystem. Their role is to take a genre’s core ideas, twist them, and reignite excitement for that genre. While Deserts have moved on and Grasslands are deeply tied to the genre, Forests tend to the genre itself. They say, “Tired of hard-boiled novels? What if they all ran a bakery?” or “Done with epic fantasy adventures? How about a cozy fantasy where they open a coffee shop?” These twists become their own subgenres, but they also refresh interest in the original genre.
Forests often write across multiple genres at once, but they’re theme-loyal. Their books, no matter the genre, stick to a consistent theme. That’s why a Forest reader might say, “I don’t usually read X, but when you write X, I’m in.” If you know the genre’s tropes, you can twist them in a way that feels fresh and fun.
Thomas: You have to be fluent in a genre to twist it effectively. Most people who try to write X for people who don’t usually read X fail miserably. You’ll see someone say, “I’m going to fix romance by writing one for people who don’t read romance.” But the people who love romance are the ones buying and reading it.
In the same way, Star Wars fans don’t think it needs fixing. If you make a Star Wars movie for people who don’t like Star Wars, you might alienate the existing fans without winning over new ones. But if you’re fluent in the genre, like the producers of the Lord of the Rings movies were, you can make changes that resonate. Fans understood why they cut Tom Bombadil; it made sense because the filmmakers spoke the genre’s language. You can’t just read one book in a genre and think, “I’m going to fix this.” You won’t.
Russell: Forests are loving caretakers of their genres. They’re not satirists. Satirists critique from outside, using the genre to package their commentary, and they rarely sell well within the genre they’re mocking. Forests, though, take universal themes like “love conquering all” or “finding agency” and weave them into their work. Their books, across genres, follow that same thematic thread.
People always ask, “Should I use multiple pen names?” For a Desert author, the answer is almost always yes. Every new series comes with a new brand promise, so they need a new pen name to match.
Forests don’t have that issue. As long as their books align with their core theme, they can keep the same pen name. They could write outside their theme, but they rarely do. If they want to shift to a new brand promise, then sure, a new pen name makes sense. It’s about the brand promise, not the number of series. Whether you’re reading Stephen King’s The Green Mile or Cujo, you know you’re getting a consistent thematic experience, so he doesn’t need a dozen pen names.
If the brand promise changes, that’s when a new name might be necessary.
Thomas: For a lot of authors, having more than one brand promise breaks their brain. They’re like, “That’s not who I am; that’s not what I do.” They’re tied to a clear theme.
Tricia Goyer is an author who fits into the Forest ecosystem. She’s written bestselling books in multiple genres, including Amish fiction, historical fiction, and parenting nonfiction, under her own name. She can do that because her audience is always homeschool moms.
At homeschool conventions, you’ll see fans lining up to get their books signed by Tricia. Whether it’s an Amish novel or a parenting guide, her books speak to that specific audience. She’s fluent in their language, and they trust her. If Tricia Goyer endorses a book, it will get a sales spike because it’s “homeschool mom approved.” Her theme might broadly be Christianity, but it’s her narrow audience that lets her operate as a Forest.
Russell: Exactly. People often think Forests are about building a community where they’re the center, but that’s not it. That kind of community-building is exhausting, and many Forests say, “I can’t do that.” Forests don’t need to be the center. They just create a shared language that lets their audience connect with each other. They’re not the focal point; they’re the ones teaching the language and stepping back.
If you’re running a Facebook group and it’s draining you, you’re doing it wrong. You shouldn’t be the key to the process. Forests give their audience a way to feel seen, and that feeling is so strong it compels people to share. Their readers become natural ambassador marketers because they resonate so deeply with the author’s work.
Thomas: I’m in a book club, and we read books, but only 20% of our discussion is about the book. The books are an excuse for a bunch of dads to hang out and chat about politics or work. Everyone in the club is a dad, but we’re not explicitly discussing fatherhood. The book is just a seed for conversation.
I see this with authors, too. Some feel they need to respond to every comment on their blog post to create community, but that’s not community. Real community is when your readers are commenting to each other, and the conversation keeps going without you. If you stop talking and the discussion dies, that’s not a community; it’s a sermon or a speech.
There’s a place for one-to-many communication in the author world, but don’t call it community. Community is the chaotic potluck after the sermon, where everyone’s talking at once. That’s the real thing, not the ordered “I talk, you listen” setup.
What is an Aquatic author ecosystem?
Russell: Aquatics are the furthest out there, completely different from the rest. They’re the ones who look at a genre and say, “There are all these inefficiencies, and I can fix them all at once by creating something entirely new.”
My friend Melissa Storm is a great example of an Aquatic. She says, “I can’t find the trend unless I make the trend.” That’s an Aquatic in a nutshell. They exist in a superposition at both the innovator’s edge and the tail end of the adoption curve. Their job is to create a whole new universe, a new paradigm that’s better than what came before.
Everyone else in the genre assumes you have to stick to the old paradigm, but Aquatics say, “No, I’m going to show you a new way that’s better.”
That said, Aquatics often come across as a bit crazy because they can’t easily explain their genre. Even what I just said is hard for most people to grasp. You’re so used to the existing paradigm that a completely new one is tough to wrap your head around. Aquatics are starting from scratch, and their growth depends on validation from others, especially those with trusted audiences. Their strength lies in collaborations and strategic partnerships.
Aquatics are less loyal to the format and more loyal to the universe they’re building. Forests, for example, stay loyal to a genre, and you can tell their book is urban fantasy or romance. But an Aquatic’s work is so far afield you’re like, “What is this?” They’re so against the old paradigm that they use brand-new terms no one understands. They’re the opposite of shared language. Because of that, the people who do find their work tend to love it, but since it’s so hard to explain, it’s tough for those authors to find an audience.
Thomas: To use my gold-panning metaphor, Aquatics are like trappers who wander into the wilderness, not necessarily looking for gold. They’re out there trapping skunks or beavers, but then they stumble across a river full of gold nuggets. They’re the most likely to be the first to find that river but also the most likely to wander their whole life and never strike it big because they’re so far out in the wild. Or think of them as honeybees: 80% follow the dance to find pollen, but 20% just do their own thing, dancing their own dance, searching for new sources.
Russell: We did a conference earlier this year called Writer MBA. Traditional conferences are built around information, but information is everywhere now, and nobody cares about getting more information. What people really want at a conference is connection.
So, we asked, what if we rebuilt the entire conference structure from the ground up with connection as the focus? It’s so much better, but nobody understood what we were talking about until they experienced it. The old paradigm of cramming information into people’s heads dominates, and you don’t even realize connection could be the core until you see it. People were like, “I don’t get it; this doesn’t make sense in my brain because I’ve always lived in the information paradigm.”
Thomas: We noticed the same thing with our Novel Marketing Conference. I’m a podcaster, and I give away free knowledge-packed episodes every week. Why would anyone come to a conference just to hear podcast-style presentations?
People go to conferences for connections, to meet people, and to build real-life relationships. Successful authors almost always have real-life relationships with other successful authors. It’s nearly universal. The rare cave-dwelling author who succeeds alone is an exception.
Aquatic thinking is about thinking outside the box, to use a cliché, but it’s also big-picture thinking, questioning assumptions others take for granted.
Russell: For our conference, we went to the sponsors and speakers and said, “Is your usual 101 class already online?” If they said yes, we asked if we could send it to attendees before the conference. That allowed us to run an event that’s built for connection. We gave out red and green wristbands. Green meant “I’m open to connecting,” and red meant “Please don’t.” It’s a small thing, but it’s part of building the whole experience from the ground up for connection. Those choices might seem minor, but when every decision is informed by that new paradigm, it changes everything.
Similarly, if a genre has ten persistent issues, an Aquatic says, “What if we made something new that doesn’t have those problems?” You can’t just explain it as “this, but better.” It’s a whole new thing.
Thomas: If you’re writing in a genre that doesn’t even have an Amazon category yet, you’re probably an Aquatic.
Russell: Aquatics can find success, but it’s unique. They might have a hundred people on their mailing list, and thirty of them will happily pay a hundred bucks for their work. They attract super fans because their stuff is so distinct. The problem is that they can’t explain it clearly. What they really need is a Grassland.
The secret is that the adoption curve leads to a connection curve. An Aquatic can’t succeed on a grand scale without a Grassland to systematize their crazy ideas. Grasslands are great at spotting a trend and saying, “That’s new, and I can make it successful.” They don’t create the trend, but they’re excellent at recognizing what will work. Often, it’s some Aquatic doing something wild that catches their eye.
My friend Monica used to say, “I don’t know what you’re doing, Russell, but it’s interesting, so I want to figure it out.” Once she did, we knew how to make money from it. Grasslands need Deserts to stabilize the audience and bring in readers for their work. Deserts need Tundras, who can sense when a trend’s excitement has peaked, and it’s time to move on. When a Tundra launches a series, you know the trend’s probably on the downward slope. Forests need Tundras, too. They can jump in and make money because the genre’s tropes are standardized by then. Aquatics need everyone else to validate their ideas and show the world what they’re doing. It’s a cycle that keeps books propagating.
The best thing you can do is find the ecosystem ahead of you and learn from it. For example, if a Tundra like Skye Warren releases a series, the excitement is probably at its peak.
How can I know which author ecosystem I fit into?
Russell: Go to AuthorEcosystem.com and take the 25-question quiz. We also have a book, How to Cultivate a Thriving Author Ecosystem. All our methodology is on the site, but the quiz is the best place to start. We’ve got YouTube content, too. One thing we haven’t touched on today is blended ecosystems like being half desert and half Grassland. However, we cover that in the book and on the website.
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