I was going to stay out of it, I swear I was. But, at the end of the day, y’all know I can’t keep my opinions to myself.

Please bear in mind that my opinions do not reflect a total knowledge of the publishing industry and that everyone who’s tweeted, blogged and raved about the Harlequin Horizons last week knows more about this than I do.

But, one thing I do know is the frustration of being a writer consistently told no. Now, I’ve got a book out there right now, and I believe its ready to go. But even if every single full request comes back with a not right for me thanks, I would not consider self publishing this novel.

Why? Don’t I believe in my work enough to risk it?

Self publishing, to me at least, is not a matter of belief in my own work. It’s a matter of skill. I know that I am a new author and as such, I make new author mistakes. I’m confident in this draft of my book, meaning that if I get rejections, I’m not going to look back at the book and say, oh, yeah, I can fix that, then email said agent and say but wait, I’m revising as we speak (I had no idea that this was a totally newbie thing to do and yes, I’m guilty of it in 2008).

What I do know is that I need guidance. In army life, I’m confident enough to navigate most military situations and have some idea what to do. But not only is publishing not the military, it’s also a civilian system and while you think that might not matter, I believe it does.

Military leaders, especially particular senior combat arms commanders, are hyper type a personalities. This means they want a project done yesterday, even if they told you about it tomorrow. I’m used to a system that has written rules for everything.

Publishing doesn’t have rules, it has best practices. In that, its kind of like accounting. There are generally accepted principles such as:

  • your first book probably won’t sell
  • don’t mention that this is your first book in your query
  • Have patience this is a slow business
  • Don’t ask authors to read your manuscript

I didn’t know any of these rules but through my awesome RWA chapter, both online and in Austin, I learned. BUT what if I was not a member of these groups and I had no idea that  Miss Snark even existed. I might receive a rejection letter from Harlequin, directing me over to Harlequin Horizons and for a nominal (it’s not really nominal) fee, I could realize my dreams of seeing my book in print.

With no one ever having proofed it for me. With no one ever sitting down and telling me I had too much repetition and oh by the way, can you complete a sentence (first draft of first book, I was in love with fragments, no idea why).

Bob Mayer points out that with all things, self publishing is caveat emptor and I agree. But the other thing we’re not discussing is how the rejections in this industry do two things: they weed out those who would quit because it is too tough and it tells us that something still isn’t right with our work. Harlequin Horizons takes that rejection and instead of steering the author back to his or her work, steers them to a vanity press. This is the problem I have with the Harlequin Horizons venture, because I want to be the best author I can and HH plants the seed that maybe, I’m better off without a second opinion, at least one that I didn’t have to pay for.

Not always, but rejection, for me, is a tool to go back and relook what’s going on with my own work. If I didn’t have rejections and I’d published a year and a half ago, I’m pretty sure I would burn with shame at that first project.

So while Harlequin Horizons is caveat emptor, and I 100 percent agree with that, I don’t believe that self-publishing is right for me. I can only speak for self and what my current strengths and weaknesses are.