How to Turn Old Medium Essays Into an Ebook That Sells (Without Losing Your Voice)
In 2018, I got serious. I started publishing on Medium. I had $3,000 months. I had $0 months. I wrote through sickness, heartbreak, burnout. I published three times a day, chasing the dream of being one of those top writers who made it big. I wrote like hell to get noticed.

In 2019, I was churning out 3 essays a day on Medium. I wrote like my life depended on it, because some days, it did.
But the truth is, I’ve been writing online for a lot longer than that. I started back before “blog” was even a word. I wrote in online journals, on MySpace, LiveJournal, Tumblr: anywhere I could put words into the world. Later, I built my own WordPress sites and filled them with raw, honest reflections. Writing has always been how I made sense of things.
In 2018, I got serious. I started publishing on Medium. I had $3,000 months. I had $0 months. I wrote through sickness, heartbreak, burnout. I published three times a day, chasing the dream of being one of those top writers who made it big. I wrote like hell to get noticed.
And I did — sometimes.
But eventually, I broke down. The burnout was real. I stopped publishing. I focused on surviving.
Now, years later, I’ve got hard drives full of stories, Google Drives stuffed with backups, old WordPress exports, and over 500 essays and articles right here on Medium.
And for the longest time, I thought they were done. Spent. Ghosts of who I used to be.
Then I realized something:
I wasn’t starting from zero. I was sitting on a goldmine.
You Don’t Need a New Idea. You Need to Dust Off the Old Ones.
If you’ve been writing on Medium (or anywhere online) for more than a year, there’s a good chance you’ve already written enough to publish a short book.
The problem is, you probably forgot.
You wrote during hard seasons. You vented. You reflected. You hit publish, and maybe it got a few claps or a few thousand. Then you moved on to the next thing.
But those pieces are still there. In your archives. In your Google Docs. On Substack. In old newsletters. Sitting in folders named “Blog Posts” or “Unfinished” or “Maybe Someday.”
And guess what?
“Maybe someday” is today.
Ebooks Are Selling, Even the Short Ones
The self-publishing world isn’t what it used to be. You don’t need 300 pages and a professional editor. You don’t need a deal. You don’t even need to be that well-known.
What you do need is:
- A message someone out there needs to hear
- A clear takeaway
- And a bit of polish
According to WordsRated (2024), the global ebook market is projected to hit $15 billion by 2027. Gumroad alone paid out $178 million to creators in 2023. And short-form educational content is one of the top-selling categories.
People are buying:
- 30-page guides on how to start freelancing
- Personal stories that teach a lesson
- Niche advice written in a real human voice
You don’t need to write something for everyone. You need to write something honest for someone.
So Where Are These Old Essays Hiding?
Let me guess:
- Medium drafts folder (half-written posts with great titles)
- Google Docs from your blogging days
- Substack archives no one reads anymore
- Notes app rants
- Private Facebook group posts
- Tumblr, LiveJournal, Wordpress (yeah, I said it)
Your voice has evolved. Your message has matured. But the heart of those essays? Still there.
They just need a second act.
But Jason, I Don’t Know Where to Start
That’s where I come in.
I wrote a full ebook on exactly how to:
- Dig through your old work and choose what’s worth saving
- Use AI to help you outline, organize, and rewrite (without losing your voice)
- Design and format it without hiring a designer
- Price, promote, and publish it on your own terms
It’s called:
How to Turn Old Essays Into an Ebook That Sells (With a Little Help From AI)
It’s short. Honest. Actionable. And made for people like us — Medium writers, second-act creatives, and humans who have something to say but don’t want to get lost in the hype.
If that sounds like you: 👉 Grab the ebook on Gumroad
Don’t let your words sit in a folder forever. You already wrote a book. Now let’s make it real.