When I decided to rebuild my author website, I had two options: hire a developer and spend several months and several thousand dollars, or keep limping along on a WordPress theme that felt like it was designed for a dentist's office circa 2014.
I chose a third option. I used Manus AI.
What followed was one of the more surprising experiences I've had as an author — and I've had some genuinely strange ones, including the time a reader emailed to tell me that The Trolley Problem had saved their marriage. (I still don't fully understand that one.)
What I Was Starting With
My old site was a WordPress installation I'd cobbled together over several years. It had a theme I'd bought for $59, a plugin for every conceivable function, and the kind of accumulated technical debt that makes developers wince. It loaded slowly, looked generic, and did absolutely nothing to reflect the voice I try to bring to my books.
I write philosophical thrillers, historical narrative, and humor. My site looked like it sold insurance.
The blog was dormant. The email list was tiny. There were no affiliate links, no lead magnet, no newsletter infrastructure. The books were listed, but barely — no individual landing pages, no series grouping, no pre-order links. It was, in the kindest possible reading, a placeholder.
Discovering Manus
I came across Manus through a conversation with another author who had used it to build a landing page for a Kickstarter campaign. She mentioned, almost as an aside, that the whole thing had taken an afternoon.
I was skeptical. I've been around long enough to know that "no-code" usually means "some code, eventually, when things break." But I was also desperate enough to try it.
Manus is an AI agent — not a drag-and-drop website builder, not a template system, but an actual autonomous agent that can write code, manage a database, configure email services, and deploy a production-ready web application. You describe what you want in plain language, and it builds it.
The distinction matters. Template builders give you a box and let you rearrange what's inside it. Manus builds you a custom box, shaped exactly to your specifications.
What I Asked For
My initial brief was ambitious, possibly unreasonably so. I wanted:
- A custom author site with a dark, library-aesthetic design — think warm amber and candlelight, not bright whites and corporate blues
- A full book catalogue with individual landing pages for each title, organized by series and genre
- A blog with SEO and AEO (answer engine optimization) built in, so posts would rank not just on Google but be cited by AI assistants like ChatGPT and Perplexity
- A newsletter integration with a lead magnet — I offered a free PDF called The History Mirror, a short essay collection
- Amazon affiliate links throughout, using my Associates tag, so every book mention earns a small commission
- Google AdSense integration
- A mobile-first design that actually worked on a phone
I typed all of this into Manus. Then I watched it work.
The Build Process
What Manus does is genuinely different from anything I'd seen before. It doesn't just generate a static page — it writes React components, sets up a Node.js backend, configures a database, integrates third-party services, and manages the whole deployment pipeline.
Over the course of a few sessions, spread across a couple of days, the site took shape. The hero carousel appeared, cycling through my book covers. The blog engine came online, complete with category filtering, reading-time estimates, and FAQ sections for AEO. The email popup was built, tested, and refined — at one point I asked for it to be redesigned as a mobile bottom-sheet so it didn't cover the entire screen on phones, and it was done within minutes.
The affiliate blocks were a particular pleasure. Rather than generic banner ads, I wanted something that felt like a personal recommendation — a "here's what I actually use" section. Manus built a rotating block component that shows product images with first-person captions. It looks handpicked because it is, in the sense that I chose every product and wrote every caption. Manus just built the machinery to display them elegantly.
When I asked for the newsletter infrastructure, Manus integrated MailerLite for list management and Resend for transactional email, configured the domain authentication records, and wrote the welcome email. When I asked for the welcome email to be improved — better deliverability, plain-text version, reply-to header — it revised the whole thing in a single pass.
What Surprised Me
A few things caught me off guard.
The speed. I expected this to take weeks. The core site was functional within a day. The full build, including 29 blog posts, all book pages, the newsletter system, and the monetization infrastructure, took less than a week of intermittent sessions.
The quality of the writing. I asked Manus to generate some initial blog posts to populate the site while I worked on original content. The posts it produced were genuinely good — well-structured, properly cited, written in a voice that approximated mine well enough that I only needed light editing. The SEO optimization was baked in from the start: target keywords, meta descriptions, Open Graph tags, JSON-LD schema, FAQ sections for AEO.
The ability to iterate. Every time I said "actually, I want this to work differently," it worked differently. The popup was redesigned three times before I was happy with it. The hero carousel was adjusted for mobile. The affiliate blocks were upgraded from text links to image-based product cards. Each iteration was fast and clean.
The business logic. I hadn't expected Manus to understand things like "posts should be spaced two weeks apart to look like organic content history" or "the affiliate disclosure needs to be on every page that contains affiliate links." It understood these things, and it handled them without being asked twice.
The Result
The site is live at cvwooster.com. It has 29 published blog posts, a full book catalogue with 20+ titles, individual landing pages for each book in the Paradox Series, a working newsletter with a lead magnet, Amazon affiliate links throughout, Google AdSense integrated, and a sitemap submitted to Google Search Console.
It loads fast. It looks like me. It works on a phone.
The email list is growing. The affiliate links are generating small but real commissions. The blog posts are beginning to rank. The newsletter announcement for The Ship of Theseus — my latest Paradox Series novel, releasing April 1 — went out to the full subscriber list without a hitch.
Who This Is For
I want to be honest about what Manus is and isn't. It is not magic. You still need to know what you want. You still need to provide the content — the book descriptions, the author bio, the blog post ideas, the affiliate products you actually use. You still need to make decisions about design and tone and structure.
What Manus removes is the technical barrier between what you want and what exists. If you can describe it clearly, it can build it.
For authors, that's transformative. We are, by definition, people who can describe things clearly. We just usually can't build the infrastructure to support those descriptions. Now we can.
If you're an author with a WordPress site that embarrasses you, or no site at all, or a site you've been meaning to rebuild for three years, I'd genuinely recommend giving Manus a try. The referral link in this post gives you access — I'm not paid to say this; I'm saying it because it's the most useful tool I've encountered in years of trying to run an author platform without a technical team.
The dentist-office website is gone. I have something I'm actually proud to send readers to.
Further Reading
If you're interested in the philosophical themes that run through my work — the same themes that make me care about things like AI-generated content and the nature of authorship — the Paradox Series is a good place to start. The Chinese Room explores what it means for a machine to understand language. The Trolley Problem puts moral philosophy in motion. And The Ship of Theseus, releasing April 1, asks whether you're still you after everything has changed.
