Lessons from Self-Publishing My First Book
Here are three lessons I’ve learned from self-publishing my first book.
I have wanted to have my words out in the world since I was sixteen years old. I’ve wanted to write characters who look like me so that readers who also look like me won’t have to do what I did as a kid: imagine a Black character into the story or pretend an existing character was Black. On the one hand, it certainly presented an exercise in imagination. On the other hand…it becomes a sad commentary on representation at some point.
But today, just now, my audiobook went live on my Shopify website and with that, is available on my Shopify store, on Audible, and on Amazon Kindle (the ebook is there exclusively for the next 2 months). I mean…my goodness. Or rather, my God is good. Truly, I’ve had to work through His strength and wait on His timing.
That’s lesson 1. Trusting that in dedicating my gifts to God, He will bless the work.
Publishing can be a long process, whether you choose traditional or indie routes. My commitment to getting Cassie’s story out was because I vowed to honor God in my writing. It wasn’t just because I wanted to do this thing. It was my service to Him. Ministry. That gave me, if not patience, perseverance.
Second lesson? It’s okay for writing to be your dream, but don’t forget that it’s work— and don’t disrespect other’s work.
I had capital “d” Dreams for how the Courting Danger audiobook would sound and I built it up so high that I was actually disappointed in the performance of the narrators I’d chosen at first. Thankfully, the production manager advised me to have impartial listeners give me their opinion before I came too hard. They thought the book sounded great. Yes, Courting Danger is my dream but publishing and production are businesses where other artists bring their craft to the table also. They have to be respected, and sometimes our perspective as the writer can create an unreasonable and obnoxious standard.
Lesson 3: Go easy on yourself and protect your excitement!
Because this is a long process (and full of arduous administration), it’s important to be gracious to yourself. There were so many missteps I made because I just didn’t know any better. I sent so many 9-1-1 emails to tech support of various sites. So? That’s what they’re there for. I felt like friends were looking at me, waiting for me, even judging me. So? They aren’t staying up late at night grinding it out. I am. Don’t get into your head and don’t let anyone else in either.
Celebrate every little admin task completed. Post about every milestone you reach that gets you closer to publication. Do a happy dance each confirmation email you receive. Publishing is a huge deal. Don’t psych yourself out of enjoying it!
I could say so much more about each of these lessons, but these are the ones that emerge as most important. I will surely make a video for my YouTube channel, Britt Writerly, so if you haven’t subscribed and hit the notification bell, go do it! We’ll talk more there ;)
Be a Ballerina
As writers, our words can have that captial P permanent feel. But we can always pivot. This weekend I got an object lesson in what that means.
Listen here. Writers are ballerinas. Period. I was at the MLA (Modern Language Association) annual conference in Philadelphia this weekend, and I saw my college advisor and mentor. We went out to lunch and I very clumsily led us to the Reading Terminal Market across the street from the hotel. A man held the door open for us, asked if we were going to lunch, wished us well, and asked to come with us (so we could pay for him); as I processed his question-compliment combo, I wandered across the street and nearly got hit by a car without batting an eye and finally strode into the market while dodging around patrons who were exiting through the same door I was trying to enter— because I was coming in through the exit. My goodness. What a 30 second adventure. But my mentor was just following behind laughing and he said, “I forgot how quickly you pivot.”
I had no idea what he meant. I consider pivoting to be a graceful act and, though I kept moving forward, I wouldn’t call what I had just done “graceful.” He doubled down: “Yeah, when you see that something doesn’t serve you, you pivot and change course.” So I played back the scenario and watched myself from above. I turned from the solicitor, crossed the street (and kept crossing despite the car— do NOT do this) and went in through the closest door, turning sideways to avoid the outgoing patrons).
You don’t have to turn “away” to pivot. You just need to change the angle of your approach and keep moving.
As a writer approaching the publication of my first book, the ink of my words feels heavy. Permanent. The cover is done. The narrators are chosen and doing their thing. They have the manuscript. And then I decided to change Cassie’s last name because “Charleston” isn’t Haitian. Transparently, my editor told me this months ago, but I was too in love with her name as it was and with the “Charlesian Romance” series tag. So I left it and claimed authorial privilege. Mkay, girl. Well, about a week ago, I woke up and realized that I can’t represent a culture of which i’m not a part and decide to tack on whatever last name I please without a legitimate reason (that did not exist). So I changed her last name to Petit-Charles. And I asked the production company if that was okay; it was January 3rd, so I knew the voice actors would be starting soon if they hadn’t already. The company rep told me that the actors had already started and that she could ask but 1) it might not be possible and 2) that kind of change could cost me money and delay the projected delivery date.
Keep moving forward.
Just like when I stepped off the sidewalk while trying to process the solicitor’s words, I had allowed overindulgence in my inner world to put me in front of a moving machine that I did not control. I signed a contract. I delivered the manuscript and said I was done with it. I stubbornly refused to change Cassie’s name from October!
Moving through wrong is the only way to get right.
The sidewalk behind me and the sidewalk before me were equidistant by the time I even noticed the car. There wasn’t anything to be gained from waving a frantic apology and backtracking.
You can apologize and move forward at the same time.
So I asked the kind company rep to go ahead and see if the change was possible, despite the inconveniences it could cause. My decision, my consequence. The change was confirmed in a day.
The fact is, I really struggled with whether to email her and request the change, but I’d messed up and it wasn’t acceptable for me to stay in my head mulling it over. Writers, the weight of representation is heavy and creativity isn’t always a frenzy. Sometimes, it’s the slow act of decreasing self. Becoming smaller to slip through the door and make room for the people who have the right to walk through upright and standing straight.
Allow the people you write about to take up all their space and twirl your world around them as artfully as you can. When you stumble, stumble persistently forward.
Dr. Ernest Gibson aka “the mentor” and me at the MLA 2023 Conference (post-pivot object lesson)
I Found the Secret to Good Writing
The secret to good writing had grown up with me. It was the friend I always fell back on but never thanked.
Insomuch as writing is a return,
return always.
My journey to my first book has been emotional, to say the least. Courting Danger will be my first published (fiction) work, but it isn’t the first manuscript I finished. My first was a YA portal fantasy. Let’s call it #firstfantasy. It was the fantasy of my childhood dreams; it was the book I wish I could have read as a sixteen-year-old. When I tried to pursue traditional publishing, I heard it all from about as many people as you can think of: published writers, critique partners, agents, editors.
“It’s good.”
“It’s fine.”
“It needs more of this.”
“It’s ready!”
“It’s not there yet.”
“I love the voice!”
I was in the inaugerating cohort of writers for the WeNeedDiverseBooks Black Writers Revision Workshop (where I got some of the conflicting advice above). I applied to PitchWars in 2021 and got a partial request that ended in a “no thanks.” I was spinning and I had no idea how I was going to stomach revision # 7— and we’re talking about 50-100% story rewrites between 2019 and 2021. I had lost the story’s thread and I had to shelve it.
I never wanted that to happen again. It hasn’t.
So how did I get to A Church Girl’s Guide to Courting Danger? Better yet, how did I find the secret to good writing already? I gave you a big hint in the picture I included with this post. See, though I’m the daughter of a preacher and I love God with all my heart, soul, and mind, I could never figure out how to include faith in my stories without it coming off corny. Plus, I was believing the lies of the enemy that “no one wants to hear about God.” So I tried to write about what people did want to read. And I rewrote #firstfantasy seven times in three years, getting tendonitis in my wrists two years in a row.
Turns out, I had to almost lose the story of my childhood dreams to discover the secret I’d known all along.
My writing comes from my heart, the very center of my being. So I stopped asking myself what I wanted to write and instead meditated on who I am. I love God with all my heart, soul, and mind. My mother and I have a good relationship that we fought really hard for. I’m a daddy’s girl. I always wanted to be closer to my older sister than we are or probably ever will be. That changed things, because while writing fantasy is my first love, I got so caught up in magic systems and worldbuilding that I let the soul of the work slip into others’ hands.
In that picture, I’m at my parents’ house with my teenage bible open to Proverbs 2:7, a verse that the protagonist of Courting Danger has tattooed on her forearm. That photo is the essence of how I write now. Surrounded by the experiences that made me and mobilized by God’s word. Now, I’m about to self-publish a Christian romance— a genre that I swore I’d never write! But when i offered my pen as a ministry, a work for the Lord and for His purpose, what others said became a non-issue and a whole realm of inspiration and confidence opened up to me.
The secret to good writing had grown up with me. It was the friend I always fell back on but never thanked.
It was in the sermons I’d heard, the studies I’d done, the prayers I’d whispered, and the tears I’d cried. The secret to good writing is to find what is enthroned on your heart and who surrounds that throne with you. The Spirit of God dwells within me and my family circles that throne with me, along with dear friends in the body with whom I’ve worked and worshipped.
What or who is enthroned in your heart and with whom do you worship it? Praising that thing in your writing is how you will discover a wellspring of strong prose, because it will come from your very spirit.