Tina Boscha

Pop on over to the About Me page, where I tell you in great detail that I have an MFA in fiction, received some awards/grants, obtained an agent, and independently published my novel, River in the Sea.

All these things are true, but let’s be honest: to some degree, as a newly indie author, I want to convince my readers and other writers that I have some legitimacy behind me. This is more about my self-confidence than anything else, and fighting what I was taught - and believed for a long time - about traditional publishing vs. self-publishing. In short, self-publishing was for hacks and those with little talent, and traditional publishing was for those rare few good enough to break through. And if you could break through, then you were one of the chosen. (Psychological breakthrough time: As someone raised Calvinist, with predestination and wondering if you are part of the Elect a big factor in daily choices, traditional publishing held an especially big lure. Woot. Didn’t have to pay a co-pay for that one!)

So then, why did I go indie?

The short answer is pretty easy: my book was rejected. A lot.

But the long answer is more complicated.

Clearly when there are next to no options left for a manuscript, the choices are few, and for many writers, the only option is to shelve the book and write another. For a long time I thought that was the inevitable end to my particular road. The road for River in the Sea started in 2001 and here we are ten years later, and so clearly, the road was long (and potholed, and filled with obstacles of various origin, including from myself). The book was still making the rounds to publishers in the winter of 2010, after initially going out in 2008.  The rejections were varied except in one notable way: they all said no. (Der.) I had one very close call in which the press actually wanted to put the book out, but didn’t feel they could be the lead publisher (they are Canadian). At this point, there were no other houses left to query.

If this had happened two years ago, I would’ve been crushed (okay, I was, just maybe less so than usual) and I probably would have shelved it. It would have been heart-breaking, because the book is based on my mother’s life as a teenager growing up in Nazi-occupied Friesland, Netherlands, and I have always believed her family’s story deserved to be told. Add to that my lifelong desire to be a writer (seriously, ask my family members: this is something I don’t remember ever NOT wanting) and that, for me at least, is soul-crushing. But it happened last winter, amid all the changes in publishing that for the first time made me really question my attitude about self-publishing.

The weird thing is, that close-call rejection? It gave me confidence! I knew the ms. was flawed, but it reaffirmed to me that the book could find readers, and that despite not selling the book traditionally I am still a writer.

So in the spring I decided, inelegantly perhaps, SCREW IT. I’m doing it! I devoted the summer to revising, editing, proofing, and generally setting it up for release.

In the end going indie has been a LOT of work. As Amanda Hocking recently wrote in her blog, “… anybody that says ‘self-publishing is easy’ is a liar, and you should immediately punch them in the face for being such a liar.” (Ironically, this is from a post in which she talks about enjoying her work with St. Martin’s. After going through the self-pubbing process just once, I totally see where she is coming from - and she is prolific.) It was also one of the single most anxiety-inducing things I’ve ever done, outside of dealing with difficult family issues.  It is also the most rewarding. I don’t regret my decision at all; this new path just feels right. In the end the book is what I want it to be and while I fervently wish that others read it, love it, and pass it on, after all my years of wishing for a success that was narrowly defined, I feel that I found it, just by realizing that I have a choice.

All this is not to say that traditional publishing is bad or a terrible choice, or that those within the industry are terrible people or that those who found success in it are somehow bad. That is silly. Those who have managed to do so are by and large very, very good writers who work incredibly hard, and the people who buy, edit, design, and market the books are incredibly good at what they do. If I got a call today from a house that wanted to buy my book I would probably pee my pants.

But I’m not counting on it, and you know what? That’s okay. There are many roads to the same destination and the best any of us can do is wish each other Godspeed, and safe travels, and let’s meet up for coffee when we’re both there.

I’ll take a decaf mocha, please.