I’ve heard the sneer before, even if it’s rarely said quite so plainly: self-published isn’t ‘real’ publishing. It’s the consolation prize for people who couldn’t get a traditional deal. I understand where the attitude comes from — there’s a lot of variable quality out there, the same as there is in any field where the barrier to entry is low. But I think it’s a lazy way to judge an entire route into print, and I’d like to explain why.

The Work Doesn’t Know How It Got Published

A story is either good or it isn’t. The path it took to reach a reader — traditional publisher, indie, small press, self-published — has no bearing whatsoever on whether the sentences work, whether the characters are loved, whether someone stays up too late finishing it. I’ve had work traditionally published, and I’ve seen self-published work from other writers that’s every bit as accomplished, sometimes more so, because the writer had complete control over getting it exactly right rather than compromising for a market.

Self-Publishing Isn’t the Easy Option

This is the part that genuinely annoys me. People assume self-publishing means skipping the hard work — slap it online, job done. In reality, the writers who do it well are doing everything a traditional publisher would do, but without the institutional backing. Editing. Proofreading. Cover design. Formatting. Marketing. All of it falls on you if that’s the path you choose. Read, revise, edit, and all the rest don’t get any shorter just because you’re publishing it yourself — if anything, there’s more riding on you getting it right, because there’s no editor catching what you miss.

I can absolutely appreciate this because I self-published a book 13 years ago. I can tell you right now, it’s not easy because you are literally doing all the work yourself. This was Unleash Your Dreams: Going Beyond Goal Setting, which you can find on my books page.

Gatekeeping Isn’t the Same as Quality Control

Traditional publishing certainly has gatekeepers, and they can maintain standards. But gatekeepers also reject brilliant work for reasons unrelated to quality: it doesn’t fit current market trends, the list is full this quarter, an editor’s taste doesn’t align with the story, etc. None of that means the work itself was lacking. It means it didn’t fit through one particular door. Self-publishing is simply a different door, not a lesser one.

By the way, I submit a lot to various magazines. Some time ago, I submitted three times to a well-known science fiction magazine in America, and each time I was rejected within a couple of hours. Now I know that normal readers could not have done this, because the stories were around 17,500, 7,200, and 14,900 words long, respectively. Considering that the people would have had to take time to read them, not to mention that they would not have seen the stories immediately, I think these rejection times were far too fast.

However, Annalisa has told me that many companies nowadays use AI to ‘analyse’ all submissions. I have no idea what parameters are set for acceptance, but I think, personally, it may have to do with the fact that I am English and write in British English, and they were set to block anything that’s not in American English. Since they don’t advertise how they have set their system up because people will work out ways to circumvent them, I have no idea what I did ‘wrong’. They certainly didn’t bother to send me any feedback.

Just a few thoughts on the gatekeepers in the modern world and how they are changing. 

What People Think It Means For the Future

I have heard it said that, if you want to see your books on television or on the big screen, you have to be traditionally published. I want to give two examples to illustrate how this comment is not helpful.

A 14-year-old boy wrote a fantasy novel for other boys his age. His mother, at great expense, had it professionally printed up by a company and went around car boot sales and flea markets, selling copies of the book from the back of her car. For quite a while, they had little success. However, one day, someone picked up the book, liked it so much that it eventually ended up being traditionally published and was the basis for a film.

In case you haven’t guessed it yet, I am talking about Eragon. 

The second case concerns a mystery novel. It was published by Macmillan, one of the top publishers in the world, but it was not a success. In fact, it ended up being remaindered, landing in the sort of bookshop where they get rid of the rest of the prints from books that just never made it.

One day, a woman picked up a copy in a charity shop. She read it and loved it so much that she recommended it to her boyfriend. He read it and agreed with her that it was a great story. He approached a friend of his who was a television producer and showed him the book.

The book was The Crow Trap by Ann Cleeves. It went on to be the beginning of the television series Vera, which ran for 14 series. The boyfriend, by the way, was Peter Capaldi, the actor.

What I’m trying to say here is that it doesn’t matter how the story is created and comes into the world. What matters is the story. Eragon was a great fantasy story aimed at young boys. Vera was a good story that started as a psychological thriller but ended up being an excellent detective novel.

In both cases, it was ‘chance’ that they found the right people. 

So I want to reiterate: the story is the important thing, not how it was produced. 

What I’d Actually Say

If someone said this to my face, I think I’d ask them a simple question: “Have you actually read the books, or just noted how they were published?” Because I’d put my own traditionally published work and plenty of self-published work I admire on the same shelf without a second thought. The label on the spine isn’t what makes a story worth reading. The story is.

Only those crazy enough to believe they’ll succeed will — and that applies whichever path you take to get your work in front of readers.