Self-Publishing is Not Inherently Lesser
And to say it is ignores a hell of a lot of systemic exclusion
This morning, I happened across several tweets demeaning self-publishing — something I see all the time.
It was the usual drivel: “self-pub is just for poorly written books”, traditional-publishing snobbery along the lines of “real authors get traditionally published, there’s a reason it’s harder — your book has to actually be good!”
Admittedly, the reality of self-publishing is that anything someone chooses to publish can be broadcasted; there is no quality check necessary, no Big Five editor automatically grooming the piece along the way. I will be the first to admit that sometimes indie books can be lacking, grammatically erroneous, and clearly not beta read.
But this is not the case the majority of the time — many of the most amazing books I’ve ever read have been indie, and still artfully woven, brilliantly written masterpieces. I’ve read self-published books that have changed my life.
Plenty of authors choose to self-publish out of a desire for greater control of their project, but even beyond being a crude generalization, to assume that every rejected manuscript is bad is just plain naïve. There is much more at play when it comes to publication than the quality of a text itself.
The reality is that traditional publishing is a limited and privileged space, and not every manuscript that deserves a seat at the table gets one.
There is a long-standing lack of diversity in publishing — in the stories told, in the voices allowed to tell them, and in the ones all along the food chain making these decisions, from literary agents to industry executives. The virtual nonexistence of representation of individuals who are of color, lgbtq+, and/or disabled in the industry is a reflection of the deficiency of opportunities available to these demographics in every level of traditional publishing.
Roughly 80% of publishing staff is white—every aspect of the industry from marketing to editorial to exec is positively dominated by white individuals, while every single racial and ethnic minority is underrepresented. This lack of diversity in the industry is mirrored in the authors and books which are selected for publication and thus given a platform, as a system created by and for a homogeneous white class further selects and promotes works which fit an understood style. The “mainstream” that traditional publishing caters to does not include a place for the stories that inspire everyone outside of the straight, white, middle class narrative — and if everyone at the gates continuously and cyclicly bars entry to authors of color, even the most phenomenal novel doesn’t stand a chance at publication.
Furthermore, pervasive “preconceived notions of a ‘literary canon’ ” and inequitable treatment mean that male authors are still unobjectively at the forefront of the industry, making up a significant majority of journalism-designated ‘Best Titles’ lists. While women make up a greater portion of both reader and author populations, “more ‘weight’ and status is given by publishers to books by male authors.”
However, the evolution of self-pub enables authors of color and female authors to break glass ceilings and publish their works without the approval of an industry not built for them.
In a world where many doors are not equally open, self-publishing creates spaces for those who have not historically had one.
Despite the fact that 61% of traditionally-published best sellers are still written by male authors, 67% of indie best-sellers are penned by women; as recently as the 2018–2019 literary year, predominant indie trends include discourse on race and class as authors who finally have a platform that enables them to publish works outside the mainstream“[are] capitalizing on their authority to speak to such topics from their actual world experience.” In the words of children’s book author Zetta Elliott, self-publishing allows marginalized authors to write about issues most relevant and pressing within their communities, “rather than waiting for approval from a gatekeeper who lacks the cultural competence needed to truly appreciate,” the work.
The evolution of self-publishing has also largely facilitated the rise of the New Adult sub-genre — creating a space for stories for and about the new adult age bracket who had previously been largely unaddressed, stuck in the void between YA and Adult Fiction. Increasing accessibility and subverting the publishing industry’s unwillingness to allow a place for the sub-genre, self-publishing was “the main driver of the new adult category” which now has significant traction and is featured on even the Barnes & Noble platform.
Additionally, self-published works are significantly more affordable, reducing a long-standing barrier for readers and making books much more accessible for individuals of lower socio-economic status than they ever have been in the traditional sphere.
All of these developments are ways in which self-publishing has crafted a more inclusive and accessible platform which have been invaluable — authors who are of color and/or female deserve more than callous degradation of a system that has done so much to at long last broadcast voices that have been largely silenced throughout the history of publication. After decades and decades of being refused admittance to widely accepted spaces, authors have begun to find a haven where they might have a home for themselves and readers like them — it’s a disservice to the battle they’ve fought and the solace they’ve built from their own sweat and spines to discredit self-publishing as nothing more than the fallback route for inadequate writers.
If your works have been traditionally published, more power to you! I’m glad for you, really, and I hope you’re successful — but you don’t get to naively slander an entire segment of the industry from your high horse, particularly one which has done so much good for marginalized communities in an industry that has long been out of reach in the hands of a traditional system built for the few.
