Self-Publishing after Trad Rejection
I told myself I'd write a blog post if my first GoodReads giveaway crossed the 4K requests threshold, because that's what the internet defined as "Big 5 Break-Out Debut" territory. I wanted to see if I could get there. In particular, I wanted to see if I could get there after the bright and shiny world of traditional publishing rejected me *thirty six entire times*.
I'm still not sure why they did that.
My rejections were gentle and generous, even kind. Editors called the book sexy, cerebral, and propulsive. They told me the characters were alive, believable, relatable, and complex. They praised the voice, used words like "intellect" and "humor" and "heat." They called me talented, lauded my craft as electric and urgent. Then, nobody bought it.
I waited and wondered and nobody bought it.
I talked to my agents and nobody bought it.
We all scratched our heads, because nobody bought it.
Deciding to move forward with self-publishing after receiving a slew of letters telling me, "I'm sorry, we don't see an audience for this," or, "I'm sorry, we aren't sure how to market it," was an exercise in radical hope. I had to trust my agents, my characters, my craft, my own roaring, shuddering instinct that readers could AND WOULD find and love this work. I had to carve a hefty chunk out of my savings account to pay for the process of self-publishing (money I would not have had without winning a sizeable legal settlement in a big big bummer of a lawsuit when I was 25, but that's a sad story for another, more particular time). I had to insist to my very academic, very high-achieving, very concerned family that, yes, this book could do well even after thirty six rejections and yes, it was worth the risk and yes, it was worth the cost and yes, I was certain.
It scared the f*ck out of me. I did it anyway.
I've felt for months like I've been standing before a wave - a big blue furious wall of a wave, churning and splashing toward me, and waiting for this precocious tsunami to hit. I've had this gut stir, this chaotic internal tilt going, "Just be patient, girl. Just give it a second. It's going to happen. It's going to sweep you away."
To all of my ARC babes, to all of my early reviewers, to all of the folks who have responded to Avra and Kieran with such enthusiasm, to all of the people who have put this book on their shelves, on their lists, or signed up for giveaways, or sent me DMs going, "I wish I had it nowwwwww": I cannot fully express my gratitude or my awe. I cannot tell you what it means to have that instict validated by readers (in particular, bisexual and queer readers) who are seeing themselves in these pages, THREE AND A HALF MONTHS before release.
This blog will be a confessional place. I'll share details about my writing process. I'll share information about future projects, and mini spoilers. I'll divulge my personal inspirations. I'll toss out anecdotes. I will try to keep this as human and grounded as my other platforms (Instagram: @k.w.bogen, @k.w.bogen_books; Threads: @k.w.bogen; TikTok: @sexualityscholar; Podcast: @SuperHumanizer).
Big love and many thanks to all of you.
I'm still not sure why they did that.
My rejections were gentle and generous, even kind. Editors called the book sexy, cerebral, and propulsive. They told me the characters were alive, believable, relatable, and complex. They praised the voice, used words like "intellect" and "humor" and "heat." They called me talented, lauded my craft as electric and urgent. Then, nobody bought it.
I waited and wondered and nobody bought it.
I talked to my agents and nobody bought it.
We all scratched our heads, because nobody bought it.
Deciding to move forward with self-publishing after receiving a slew of letters telling me, "I'm sorry, we don't see an audience for this," or, "I'm sorry, we aren't sure how to market it," was an exercise in radical hope. I had to trust my agents, my characters, my craft, my own roaring, shuddering instinct that readers could AND WOULD find and love this work. I had to carve a hefty chunk out of my savings account to pay for the process of self-publishing (money I would not have had without winning a sizeable legal settlement in a big big bummer of a lawsuit when I was 25, but that's a sad story for another, more particular time). I had to insist to my very academic, very high-achieving, very concerned family that, yes, this book could do well even after thirty six rejections and yes, it was worth the risk and yes, it was worth the cost and yes, I was certain.
It scared the f*ck out of me. I did it anyway.
I've felt for months like I've been standing before a wave - a big blue furious wall of a wave, churning and splashing toward me, and waiting for this precocious tsunami to hit. I've had this gut stir, this chaotic internal tilt going, "Just be patient, girl. Just give it a second. It's going to happen. It's going to sweep you away."
To all of my ARC babes, to all of my early reviewers, to all of the folks who have responded to Avra and Kieran with such enthusiasm, to all of the people who have put this book on their shelves, on their lists, or signed up for giveaways, or sent me DMs going, "I wish I had it nowwwwww": I cannot fully express my gratitude or my awe. I cannot tell you what it means to have that instict validated by readers (in particular, bisexual and queer readers) who are seeing themselves in these pages, THREE AND A HALF MONTHS before release.
This blog will be a confessional place. I'll share details about my writing process. I'll share information about future projects, and mini spoilers. I'll divulge my personal inspirations. I'll toss out anecdotes. I will try to keep this as human and grounded as my other platforms (Instagram: @k.w.bogen, @k.w.bogen_books; Threads: @k.w.bogen; TikTok: @sexualityscholar; Podcast: @SuperHumanizer).
Big love and many thanks to all of you.
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