Indie Publishing – humble surrender or defiant stand?

Some people move into self-publishing right off the cuff. They don’t give a damn about finding an agent, or being approached by a big five publisher. Not me. I had an idea. Part of that idea held prestige, getting paid, and taking a book tour. But that was back in 2018, when I began the writing of my debut novel Moonwaiting.

I got right to it and spent all of my spare time pouring my soul onto the page, having conversations with those who cared, approaching the difficult spots with courage, and churning out a reasonably acceptable story.

It was a lot of work!

My novel tapped into the 4th Century Scottish Highlands, a retelling of mythology and magical realism, which required some research too: flora, fauna, and architecture, as well as tools and weaponry, sources of food, and clothing. Did they have horses? Did they spin wool? I had to study the tribes and clans, the pagan life, the specific Celtic gods and familiar names of the people.

The truth is, there wasn’t a lot of information on 4th century Scotland. They had an oral-only language, with a much later (8th C.) Viking influence of the Elder Futhark runes. Research was sparse.

Lean on what you do know.

Still, I knew a lot about tribal thinking, having been deeply involved in American indigenous life at one time. I also understood the original Celtic pagan life, long before it was sadly vilified, which harkens back to this book’s setting.

Anyhoo – the book got done. And I asked multiple beta readers to grant me their views. I returned again and again to my now beloved literary child. I developed backstories to build on the characters, then played Tetris with certain parts, and of course edited the heck out of it all repeatedly. I had to make sure the complex plot actually worked.

I struggled with dialogue – as there was no way I was going to manage ancient Scottish dialects. Thus, I opted for good ol’ American English and even allowed some modernized tones as well. What can I say, it’s my novel. I can do what I want.

Traditional Publishing Requires an Agent.

Then I set to creating a query letter and synopsis, and hoped like hell it was good enough. I purchased Publisher’s Marketplace and got to work on finding a good matching agent to represent me. Each queried submission took about an hour of effort. I queried 60 agents over the course of a couple years. All this while I taught school, learned to paint, and had a family life. Through the pandemic,  I set it aside for over a year to build a blog and coaching/editing life.

I had to make a schedule and keep a quota of queries to keep going. Each rejection was a bit unimportant to me. I expected them. I knew the statistics were 98.5% not on my side.

But damn it, I loved my novel. I was attached to the characters, undeniable parts of me, and I felt the story was good enough to be read. I had read plenty of worse things after all. And sure, I had also read better books. I was a teacher of literature. It felt like a damn fine first attempt. I knew the parts that might mean more to me than to any reader. Likewise, I had plenty of readers cheering me on, and that meant something to me. Bless those readers, truly.

Indie Published Books Hold Their Own Dignity.

Meanwhile, I studied self-publishing, and I softened to the less than ideal option to be an independently published author. Far worse would be for my book to die alone on Google Docs. I still refuse to pay a company to do it for me. Seriously, forget that.

But I am lucky to have the skills as a freelance editor and writing coach, so I get that a one-off writer might go in that direction. I do think those companies tend to overcharge.

In a couple weeks, I will launch my debut novel. My personal goal is to generate a strong response among my own people. A realistic picture is to move forward and let it be whatever it will be. After a few weeks of soft, inexpensive marketing, I will move on.

I’m writer weary. I will return to the nursery and cradle some new writing projects. It has been five years, and my first literary child should get on the bus heading to big kid school.