Where are the fireworks?
It’s a weird concept and experience going it alone. Entering into this minefield that is the writing/publishing world. It’s one that never quite meets your expectations but in the same vein offers something new and extremely different in many ways.
Independent publishing without the support or backing of an Agent or big publishing house I’ve come to realise is quite an uphill struggle. Fighting amongst the torrents of self-published works that constantly gather pace on my Twitter feed. Mine being just one in a deluge of books. Whereas years gone by the quantity of books being released upon the world was pretty steady, with the opportunity for independent authors to get themselves self published the quantity is staggering and phenomenal.
There are so many genres to choose from and so many varying degrees of quality. I dare not speak ill of anyone who has fought the demons of fear and trepidation to actually out themselves on offer and share with the world something they have created from scratch. I know all too well how vulnerable you feel when you know someone out there is reading what you created and there is a chance they will either love it or hate it.
In respect of it not being what you expect that is simply down to the fact that everyone expects in some way shape or form to take the world by storm. I am nothing if not a dreamer and no matter what, the first time you hit that publish button you expect a torrent of fireworks, the BBC knocking on your day and thousands wanting instantly to buy what you have poured your heart and soul into.
But there is no hype other than what you create yourself, be that by employing someone else to market what you have done or else fighting the world of social media to say “hey look over here, look at me and what I’ve done.” In that way it’s something akin to being at school. The ever proud child trying desperately to show your smudged finger painting and proving it’s better than the twenty eight others from your classmates.
There is no easy way, there is no easy win but what I have come to realise in even this short amount of time is that faith in your own work is key. For me even if five people had purchased my book and I only knew three of them that would mean two didn’t know me and took that gamble on me. No matter what though it would mean five people had shared in my creation and that made us a select group of people.
In the end even if only a handful read Footprints they come into a select group. Only we can speak of Jack James, only we can having the knowing conversations about how things progressed in the story. It’s like being in a select little group and that in itself is just as rewarding.
Don’t get me wrong, I’d love for someone out there to pick up Footprints and say “yes this is something we want to support”. It would be nice to have that support from one of the bigger “gangs in the playground” but at the same time it’s better to be in the playground no matter if I’m surrounded by sixteen friends or a hundred. It’s far better than sitting in the classroom looking out just wishing I could be out there.
Please excuse the probably moronic metaphors throughout this post but it’s easy to get carried away. But no matter what I can always say I’ve done it. I’ve taken that step and if it’s meant to be then so be it. Sometime in the future you never know I may proudly see a copy of something I have written in Waterstones, Sainsbury’s or somewhere so called “mainstream”. Until then I’ll keep spouting my attempts at promoting on social media and hope at some point the right ears hear and the right eyes read and open up the bigger playground to me!
Until then excuse the links but feel free to spread the word or else get yourself a copy:
UK Purchase Link
US Purchase Link
