The publishing world has changed dramatically from the days when “self-published” was shorthand for amateurish, poorly edited, or couldn’t get a real publisher. Back then, even authors who poured care into their work often found themselves dismissed by peers and ignored by readers.
That era is gone.
Today, both debut and veteran writers self-publish. Many produce books every bit as polished and professional as those released by traditional houses. And readers—far more open minded than the industry once assumed—have embraced the idea that some of the most original, memorable, and enjoyable stories come from outside the Big Five.
Which brings me to the question I keep circling: should I consider self-publishing?
I have a backlog of previously published stories I’d love to gather into a collection, along with several nearly finished pieces that have never seen the light of day. My work tends toward the quirky, the off center, the not-quite-marketable—traits that don’t exactly thrill the major U.S. publishers. Agents, ever attuned to what sells, pass. Small presses, who are usually more welcoming of unusual material, have also declined.
I’d like to believe this isn’t a referendum on the quality of my writing—though of course that doubt whispers in the background. Are those “encouraging” rejections simply polite brush offs? Possibly. But that’s not the point.
The real question is: should I take the leap into self-publishing?
I write because I love it. I’ll keep writing whether anyone reads my stories or not. But sharing them—seeing them land in someone else’s imagination—brings a satisfaction nothing else quite matches.
Self-publishing is not for the faint of heart. Some authors thrive at it. Some earn real money. Some break even. And some end up with boxes of unsold books tucked behind the extra toilet paper in the back of the linen closet.
Is that where mine would end up?
The considerations feel endless.
Establish a small “private” press? Plenty of writers have found success doing exactly that.
Editing is non-negotiable. Nothing screams “incompetently self-published” like sloppy line editing. Weak content editing may be less obvious at first glance, but it still undermines the work. I don’t want to release anything I’ll later be embarrassed to claim as my own.
Fortunately, I do have a network of people who can help with that. And I know some very capable editors whose rates are not totally outrageous.
Would I contract someone else for formatting? Many people quite successfully format their own work. My tolerance for that type of work is limited. After the fiftieth “What did I do wrong this time?” incident in the past hour, I’m likely to seriously consider tossing my computer through the window. Which would not bode well for the computer, the window, or the piece on which I was working.
I know I’m totally incapable of coming up with illustrations, either for a cover or to accompany text. Some of my stories cry out for illustrations. Definitely an area where I would have to contract out anything I needed.
Whether a work is published by a press or not, marketing in today’s world falls directly on the shoulders of the author. Some people excel at marketing. Some people even enjoy it.
Since childhood, I have always had a deep innate dread that any attention is a direct prelude to being in serious trouble, so my inclination is to fly under the radar as much as possible. Not the best basis for establishing a successful marketing campaign.
And beyond those considerations lie other steps: ISBNs, distribution, copyright, metadata, reviews, discoverability—the whole ecosystem that traditional publishers handle behind the scenes.
It’s a lot.
But maybe it’s time to explore it seriously.

