Why I'm Not an Indie Author

My personal idea of hell is doing a job that requires me to act in a way that's totally opposite to my personality. In my case, that hell would be telemarketing. The whole point of being a telemarketer is to convince some poor schmuck on the other end of a phone to buy what you're hocking. To do this, you have a line a bullshit you whip out to each perspective schmuck in questions. To me, doing this would be agony because I'm allergic to bullshit, including my own.

I say all this to illustrate the point at the heart of this particular piece.

I have nothing but respect and admiration for my fellow authors who go, what's commonly called, the "indie route." The amount of effort some of my friends and colleagues make to get their work out into the world deserves nothing but admiration and respect. They don't do it because their work isn't good enough for traditional publishing. They don't do it because of vanity. They do it for the very same reason independent artists in the music and visual arts industries do it: to get their work out there and find their audience. 

Three times (so far) on this blog, I've reviewed works by indie authors. The first time was for my friend, Clyde Andrews, for one of his earliest short stories, Enough Blue Sky to Mend a Pair of Sailor's Trousers, which remains one of his biggest selling titles. Second time came for Victoria Loder's Goof Proof, her practical guide to the art of writing query letters. Third and most recent was Niladri Mitra's poetry collection Songs of Dusk. All three are worthy of respect for their quality. 

And they're not the only indie authors I've come to know; every one of them has the greatest passion for the work they do. They do it for the right reasons too. It's not for fame, or recognition, or financial success (much as any or all three of those would be undoubtedly appreciated by any of them). They do this and put in the work because they love to do it and want their work to find its audience. 

With all that said, I know myself. By that I mean, I know there is no way I could possibly do what they do, which is why I'm not an indie author. 

Let me explain further. 

Though this may sound hubristic, it's not meant to be. I am quite good at only one thing in life: I'm good at making shit. When I have or carve out the time to do so, there is nothing I like more than making stuff. You don't start a blog, or a podcast, or write short stories, novels, and essays that nobody is going to publish if you know you're no damn good at it. But I am, and I know it. It's why despite only a modicum of success in my professional life so far, I keep doing it. In addition, I know, from my not-inconsiderable archive, that I've gotten better with practice. 

However, in order to be an indie author, you have be good at a whole bunch of other things other than just making shit. 

To be an indie author, in seems to me, you really have to be six people rolled into one. You must, of course, be a writer; you must also be an agent; you must be an editor; you must be a proof-reader; you must be a cover designer or art-dealer; most of all, you must be a salesperson, publicist, and semi-pro PR wizard. You must be all these things simultaneously. You must be able to do all of them with the same level of skill as your writing, and you have to be able to do all of them with a fair degree of speed if you're to make any kind of a living. 

I'm fully aware that traditionally published authors have to do a certain amount of their own publicity. The reason writers, like V.E. Schwab (whose work constant readers will know I adore), have YouTube Channels, Instagram accounts, and a Twitter account is in part to self-publicize. And of course, there are always the public appearances and readings one would do in the course of old school book tours (or, in our Time of COVID, Zoom Appearances). Yet, the primary thing expected of such traditionally published authors is for them to hide away and make shit. 

The road an indie author takes is far more rugged.

Not only must you make your stuff, but you also have to do everything in your power to make sure it's the best it can be and the most attractive it can be (thanks to the cover art), for readers. The activity that indie authors spend the greatest amount of time doing--after writing, of course--is publicizing their work. As a matter of fact, whenever they're on Twitter, or Tumblr, or Facebook, or whatever, part of the reason they're on there is to try to garner more attention for an upcoming project. Twitter even has a regular weekly event for writers (and I imagine other artists) to do this, with it's own hashtag at that, called #ShamelessSelfpromoSaturday

From the writers I've gotten to know, as vastly different as they all are as people, one common trait they all share is a considerable self-assurance; like all artists, they have this gut feeling that what they're doing, and what they're making, is special and deserves to be in the world. More so than that, they're all hellbent on getting people to agree with them. And in many cases, it's justifiably true. 

In the case of my friend, Clyde Andrews, I'm not entirely sure traditional publishing would be able to sell the stories he writes. Not only does he write a lot (far more than I do), but he writes stories that regularly cross genres--LGBTQ+, Romance, Historical Fiction, Urban Fantasy, Epic Fantasy, Mystery Fiction, Comedy, and those are just the ones I can think of off the top of my head. For traditional publishing, trying to market (yuck, I hate that word), a writer like him would be almost impossible. His uniqueness is what gives him his edge, and he's very successful. 

While I will shamelessly admit that I think the stories I write are great (I get upset every time I get a rejection for that reason), I don't have that same fiery drive my cohorts possess. I'm very good at making shit, but I'm not really good at selling shit. Most of the people who know me will know that one trait that I have in surplus is "self-effacement." I can't take a compliment--ever--and the minute one comes flying in my direction, I usually serve back a self-deprecating retort. A person with that kind of a personality could never make it as an indie author without an enormous amount of effort.

I've considered it a great deal, and as much as I would love the independence and fuller financial reward should a book of mine become successful, there's no way I could handle it. I'm too self-aware that I wouldn't be playing to my strengths. 

I can make shit, but on my own, I couldn't sell it to save my life.