Your novels are terrible. Please stop writing.
I wish I could tell you the truth, but I know it would lead to Drama. I dislike Drama. Our mutual friends and family would have to listen to your resentful wailing, and I'd prefer to avoid that. If I were more truthful, I would tell you that you should stop writing stories and "books".
Soon you will finish yet another terrible novel. There is no doubt that you shall ask us to buy (and review!) your new long pile of words. You will send invitations out to friends, family and everyone, asking us to attend yet another reading. I do not know if I can go, as I suspect I shall be busy.
Someone once told you that you should be a writer. That grade school teacher has done you a great disservice. Mom and your siblings only provided encouragement, but you waste your life and our time. You have pursued your writing like a teenage boy yearning for s**, obsessive and graceless.
When you found that small publisher I had such great hopes that they would take your work and hone it into reason. That did not happen. I thought the second and third novel might get better. That too did not happen. And now, you are hunting for a new publisher (since the advances disappeared). God help us as you rant about how difficult it is "these days" to get your work into print. It is difficult for a reason.
There is nothing in your life but writing. Sadly, your writing is awful. Your metaphors are a cudgel. You make up words and throw them into your work with abandon of a toddler flinging peas. The s** scenes lead me to a deeper understanding of why your partners don't stick around.
I confess I haven't read beyond the first page of the new novel.
God curse Amazon making it so easy to self-publish. I see your new work there looming on the horizon.