When an author has a completed manuscript, there is a natural desire (or dream) to see it published, tucked inside a gorgeous cover, and on a shelf at the local bookstore. As the author shops that manuscript and gets rejection upon rejection–often phrased as “I love it. I don’t know how to sell it.”–the itch to shift from traditional publishing to the world of self-publishing grows.
I’ve had a completed manuscript for a couple of years, now. While I have yet to reach J.K. Rowling status of receiving triple-figures worth of rejections from agents and editors before Harry Potter was picked up, I was well into the double digits on my book.
J.K. didn’t have the equitable option of self-publishing that authors today have. To be published in the modern market does not require a nod from a publishing house, one of its imprints, or even the assistance of an agent. There are podcasts upon podcasts by independently/self-published authors making six figures and gathering hundreds of thousands of fans sharing their wisdom so others may follow in their footsteps.
Earlier this year I had consigned myself to self-publishing my book should no agent or publisher pick it up. The manuscript was out to four markets/agencies through the course of 2022’s opening six months. I told myself that this was it. If none of those said yes, then I would publish it myself. One by one the rejections came in (loved it, couldn’t sell it). I started looking into how best to publish and release the book myself. I got comfortable with the idea of being a self-published author.
Then someone said yes.
A small press offered me a contract. Nothing spectacular, but a contract all the same. The groundswell of emotion and validation that email generated cannot be summarized in such words as “amazing,” “incredible,” or “fantastic.” My fingers itched to just sign it and celebrate.
Thankfully, I am a midwest pragmatist through and through. Heck, I drive a Toyota. I talked to published writer friends. I talked to authors published by this same company. I reached out to a NYT bestseller I’ve shared drinks and laughs with at writers conferences. They all urged caution and filled me in on lessons learned from their first contracts.
I’m still giddy from the offer, but my eyes are open to what this means.
I don’t have to sign. I can be, or not be published…traditionally. Self-publishing is a viable option. Traditional publishing has it’s luster, though.
I’ll let you know my decision…later.
