I’ve made the decision to publish a book this year.
That, in and of itself, sounds preposterous. You can’t really ever decide to do something; you simply do it or you don’t. Hell, New Year’s Resolutions are basically that in a nutshell. Anyone can resolve to lose weight, stop drinking, or publish a book (or all three – nothing wrong with ambition, right?). But until you actually do it, it’s just a formless idea. I’ve entered many years with the notion of, “This is the year I get published!” only for it to not come to pass.
So, why should this declaration of publishing intent really be any different?
Well, for starters, I plan to self-publish, likely on Amazon but hopefully elsewhere. That, in and of itself, changes the calculus on how likely publishing will occur. In all previous endeavors, I’ve attempted the traditional routes: querying agents, submitting short stories, etc., and nothing’s panned out. Maybe it’s because my writing’s not good enough – I’d be crazy not to admit there’s a constant bullhorn of self-doubt blaring in my head – or maybe it’s just not been the right moment. Maybe it’s bad luck, bad timing, or a myriad of other reasons that could explain the lack of forward movement in this aspect of my journey.
Regardless of the reasons why, the simple fact is that it hasn’t happened, and there’s no escaping that. One could be bitter about that reality – I won’t lie and say there haven’t been moments where I’ve felt bitter – but bitterness won’t solve anything. It won’t make me a better writer to use it as a motivating factor; if anything, it’ll supplant the real reason I should be writing – the joy of creation – and leave me feeling hollow. I think this type of thing happens often, not just in writing but in society: people don’t get what they want or feel they deserve and grow angry and resentful as a result. But I don’t want to be angry and resentful. I don’t feel that’s productive, nor do I think it’s warranted. I like to believe I’m a pretty damn good writer, but I have to acknowledge that I come to that question from a very biased perspective; perception and truth can very easily be diametrically opposed forces.
But it doesn’t matter if you’re a good or bad writer when it comes to self-publishing. Sure, it matters in the sense that it can affect whether you can become a successful self-publisher, at least in terms of monetary and popularity gain. But in terms of actually putting your stuff out there for someone somewhere to find, the only gatekeeper is yourself. And, as far as I’m concerned, I’m through with being my own gatekeeper. I’m almost thirty-eight now, and it’s high time I shit or get off the pot.
I’m currently working with friends on both a cover and a final pass-through edit for grammatical/spelling errors, as well as a final read on whether there are any glaring problems with the plot and characters. Once that’s done, it’s on to copyright, ISBNs, Kindle formatting, and whatever else I need/want to do before getting it out there. But the only thing stopping me from doing any of that now is myself, and that’s a fairly empowering position to be in.
So, here’s to publishing a book (or two) in 2024. I’m going to do my damnedest to get out of my own way.
Bradley C. Graham 