1d4 levels of greatness a ttrpg writer can achieve in america

1. giant centipede in the darkness:

Has published seven books. One on Lulu, two on their personal blog, and four "self-printed" via Mixam. Gets more hits on their blog weekly than has sold zines in five years and makes enough money off their zines to get drunk once a year. Will likely die alone of something easily treatable if they'd had money or motivation to go to a doctor. Will be forgotten in 20 years (while they are still alive) when they lose the ability to blog after getting second-degree burns on both hands while boiling potatoes at work, but will be rediscovered 60 years after their death. Their blog will be published as a hardcover in 2270 on Mars.

2. one dollar feeder fish:

Has been reviewed by Questing Beast and quit their adjunct teaching job because the cast of Critical Role was invited to speak at their college. Receives up to three e-mails a day from centipedes in the darkness wanting blurbs. Will not be forgotten easily even after they are dead and their books are out of print because of how easy it is to talk shit about them. Will then be forgotten very easily, completely, and forever a few days after I type this when there's someone easier to talk shit about. 

3. $9.99 petco gerbil:

Has won an Ennie and other major awards but is thought of by most critics, writers, and journalists as primarily a romance author. Makes enough money to not have a blog or their email addresses on the internet. Considered as "I really, really want to stay away from this person and their books" by people who like Mork Borg.

4. pony on a pony farm of a child billionaire:

Considered "important" and "serious" by most online reviewers and writers but are held back from further greatness by an inability to make a dungeon that conveys the tone of "I am very smart and this is serious." Held back also because they sometimes publish smaller zines, some of which don't even contain adventures; because some of their e-mail adresses can be found on the internet; and because they would never consider writing from the perspective of someone in a terrible event that they did not experience.