The Comey train had just left the station, but it's already wrecked.
The wreckage was inevitable. Like most first-time celebrities, the former FBI director had badly miscalculated what audiences actually wanted from him and confused it with what he wanted from them.
They were never very interested in his deep personal struggles. Or his random thoughts on anything in the FBI. Nobody was putting this kind of money on the line for another memoir.
They wanted dirt. And after all the noises, Comey couldn't actually deliver.
His ghostwriter mocked Trump's appearance and Comey compared him to a mob boss. But beyond the jokes about Trump's hands and the mafia references there was nothing more there.
Comey wasn't delivering the dirt. His favorite subject was still himself. And that's what he wanted to talk about.
But it's not anyone else's favorite subject.
Comey thought lefty audiences were interested in him as a person. And that's frankly delusional. No one cares about him. They care about Trump.