Every decision must originate from a question, and mine was this: do I try to get published via a traditional route, or do I self-publish, like more and more people are these days?

In 2003, at the end of a three year degree in a field I knew I would never enter, yet had continued regardless, I was consumed with the idea of being an author. It was my calling. All I wanted. Nothing else mattered. So much so, I gave my parents the little student loan I had left in exchange for time. One year, to be exact. I would buy myself a year to dedicate myself to writing and become the next Stephen King. How could that fail?

Over the course of that year, I wrote feverishly. In fact, I loved the myth of Robert Louis Stevenson writing ‘The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hide’ in a few weeks during/after a fever, therefore that was how I worked. Fevered. Four thousand words a day. Maddened like a hermit in a cave. Revelling in the romance of being a raving recluse. Creating five books that were ready to launch my career and catapult my name onto the literary stage.

I bought the ‘Writers’ and Artists’ Yearbook’ for a list of agents and publishers I would send my novels to. I read their submission guidelines and followed them diligently. I researched and purchased boxes and envelops that would give an impression of how seriously I took my craft. And I submitted each package to the Post Office with quivering breath, knowing I stood on the precipice of greatness.

The result of my year’s work?

An epic beard. People wondering if I’d died. My parents questioning whether I was lazy or having a breakdown.

And silence.

Deafening silence.

Interspersed with the odd it’s-not-right-for-my-list-right-now letter.

Confidence was as low as my standard of hygiene.

I considered my options. A) Quit and never mention that year again: the sensible approach. B) Continue, sleeping less, seeing no one, and being labelled the neighbourhood odd ball: the lunatic approach. C) Get a shower, shave the beard, seek a job in teaching, and promise myself I'd write every morning and weekend, but learn teaching isn’t an 8:30 to 3:30 job: the approach I took.

D) Self-publish was an approach I didn’t consider. Despite successful indie authors existing at the time. I was a literary snob. Self-publishing was vanity publishing. Only people who couldn’t make it went the self-publishing route. I wanted to achieve publication by talent alone, I told myself. Which was nonsense. The truth was that I needed a publisher to validate my work, as I wasn’t certain of any talent, and self-publishing was for people with more self-belief than me.

Twenty years later, option D does exist, and it brings me back to the original question and decision to make: do I try to get published via a traditional route, or do I self-publish?

Perhaps it's a decision that's out of my hands, as there may be no publisher willing to sign me (a likely scenario!). But I am swaying more and more towards option D than ever. Having control over your book, total control, is an appealing thought. No, you don’t have professionals inputting and making the book slick. And many learning curves lie ahead. But New2theScene is for authors who haven’t achieved bestseller status (yet). Some of these authors have followed the traditional publishing route. Some are indie authors. How they came to have their book in print doesn’t seem to affect their sales figures, though.

If a traditionally published author doesn’t have a huge marketing budget, then book sales depend upon the author creating a social media presence, visiting groups, contacting newspapers, getting reviews, word of mouth, and hoping it goes viral on BookTok. And what is the role of a self-published author? The same. So why have the middleman? Is it for the validation, still?

There are tales of authors getting advances, not meeting targets, then being in debt to the publisher.

There are tales of authors having to buy the rights to their book from their publisher (imagine having to buy your own work back!) because they wanted to sell it themselves.

Then there are books published by indie authors with spelling and grammar mistakes that discredit the author’s authority with the reader.

And there’s the upfront cost of publishing your own work rather than signing with a publisher.

I don’t think there’s a definitive correct answer. Just the right thing for that person at that time. All I know is, I’m glad I took the shower, the beard grew back, and if I decide to put myself forward for a publisher’s rejection again, this will be my covering letter:

Hi,

Please consider my novel, Daniel King: ASD (Alien Specialist with Dad), for representation.

The novel is the first in a series of Daniel King books. The protagonist, an eleven-year-old boy with ASD, becomes involved with a government agency policing aliens, and he learns a person’s perceived weakness can be their greatest strength. The novel is approximately 48,000 words and is aimed at children aged 9-12.

The Elevator Pitch:

Aliens exist. They enter and leave Earth like a holiday destination. Governments know about it. Secret agencies police it. But when a boy stumbles into that world, can he discover the neurodiversity that’s held him back is his greatest asset in saving his family?

The novel would best be described as The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time meets Men in Black. It has the pace of an Alex Rider novel, with the mystery of Eoin Colfer’s Artemis Fowl. Like them, the series has no defined end, with the exploration of the protagonist’s journey through adolescence central to the plot – a coming-of-age tale wrapped in mystery, fantasy and adventure. It would be placed on the shelf besides The Magnificent Monsters of Cedar Street by Lauren Oliver, City of Islands by Kali Wallace, and series such as Jonathan Stroud’s Lockwood and Co, and Skulduggery Pleasant, as a bridge between middle-grade and YA darker fantasy works. Currently, each novel would take between three and four months to write and edit. 

Regarding myself, a year ago I was a headteacher in a primary school in Leeds, having been in teaching for fifteen years – including time spent as a SENCo, which hopefully gives credit to my knowledge of children with ASD – and I quit. I had a good wage, three children to support, a rising mortgage, and I imploded my career as it wasn’t my passion. Writing was. I had written a middle grade novel twenty years previously, won through to the final of a national competition for a five-book deal and Waterstones window feature – winning the north of England – and barely written since. When I hit forty, I made the decision to change that.

I spent most of 2023 creating a website that promotes and sells the work of new or not yet discovered authors, and found over a hundred authors who believed in the ethos of the site. I created a podcast interviewing those authors to boost their profile. I collected and posted articles for the positive effects on mental health following your passions can have. And I wrote.

I have set myself the challenge of seeing my work in print – the culmination of a twenty year ambition. I blog about it on the website in a series of posts: Zero to Published. I am keen to promote on social media and in person, and blog about this side of the literary business, as the site helps new and aspiring authors succeed with any hints and tips we can discover.

If you have any questions about the book or myself, please don’t hesitate to contact me. Thank you again for your time.

Best wishes

Richard