Putting the Self in Publishing
Seeking alternatives as traditional markets fade or evaporate
As a print journalist, I used to say “self-publishing” was the equivalent of being named to the homeschool honor roll. This was 20 years ago, just as blogging was becoming popular, and I was a snob about the publishing process.
In my view, and in the view of my colleagues, your work had to be reviewed, vetted, and approved by — clears throat, works on haughty accent — a “publishing professional” to be considered worthwhile. Occasionally, they would paraphrase the late journalist Christopher Hitchens, who said, “Everyone does have a book in them but in most cases that's where it should stay.”
My colleagues — and Hitchens, for that matter — weren’t necessarily wrong. But we were shortsighted about the power of the Internet and the resulting effect that it would have on all forms of traditional media and society as a whole.
Pursuing Passions
I’ve thought about self-publishing and its impact a lot recently, for two reasons. Over the past month, I’ve seen the first real surge in subscribers to “Our Reality Show.” Two essays about musician Jason Isbell and a “Stage Dad” piece about our son’s childhood adventures brought in more than 90 free subscriptions in February. It speaks to the viral nature of the Internet, and it was both gratifying and overwhelming.
I’m sure some won’t stick around, although I hope you will stay, enjoy, and take something from the writing and photos published here and by others on the Substack platform. In my view, the quality of the self-published content you can find on Substack is as good as anything out right now, print or online. Those I follow have greatly enhanced my knowledge about music, photography, writing, and life.
“Our Reality Show” is not — and won’t ever be — focused on a single niche. When I started this as a blog 15 years ago, I was working as an editor for a K-12 nonprofit that served school boards and administrators. The work felt too narrow for a longtime generalist, and creative storytelling — written and visual — is a hobby/passion/need I wanted to pursue.
That’s why, on any given day, this newsletter might feature an interview with a musician, an analysis of an event or trend, a memoir-style piece of growing up on the Texas Gulf Coast, or a visual story about the places I’ve visited with my camera. And of course, you also get “Another 52 Weeks,” a Saturday newsletter that features random photos and occasional essays. All posts are free, unless you have the means and want to contribute financially.
Perhaps those varied interests (or lack of mercenary business sense) have curtailed my chances of mainstream publishing success. I’m just happy that you’ve chosen to follow me on this journey.
Publishing in a Different World
Despite my online presence, I’m still a fan of traditional media. There’s something about the tactile experience of holding a book, a magazine, or an album in your hands as you consume it.
That’s why vinyl music has made a comeback, and sales of CDs and cassettes are slowly on the uptick. Independent booksellers and music retailers are found in almost every town of any size, even though their margins are so slim that it has to be a labor of love.
Chain bookstores and grocery stores are still jammed with printed materials, most of them from traditional publishers trying to make premium money as they deal with rising costs in a market that wants to get everything for free on the Internet.
Physical media is not dead, but it is different. And self-publishing — online and in print — has become an industry all its own.
According to Bowker, the official ISBN (International Standard Book Number) agency for the U.S., more than 2.6 million titles were self-published with ISBNs in 2023, an increase of 7.2% over the previous year and more than double the number produced in 2017. In a report issued in November 2024, the agency says self-published titles outnumbered traditionally published books by more than 2 million in both 2022 and 2023.
Small publishers abound, although their margins — even slimmer than the big players — usually dictate that authors have skin (and money) in the game. To be successful in our splintered world today, publishers say, you must have a “niche.”
I started looking into self-publishing seriously while working on Keep Your Distance, a photo book about walking through the first year of COVID. In this instance, self-publishing had appeal because — unlike “Our Reality Show” — a photo book is a niche title. I recognize that traditional publishers don’t want to take on a no name’s passion project, even though it deals with an experience shared by everyone.
First Look: 'Keep Your Distance'
The video is a 30-second preview of my first photo book — Keep Your Distance: Walking Through the First Year of COVID. The book features 70 photos taken in New York, Richmond, Va., Washington, D.C., and Alexandria, Va.
Recognizing the Niche
Commercial success, no matter how great that would be, was not the reason I decided to publish the book. Even though we would like to put the pandemic into the distant past, it is important to have a chronicle of that time, one that continues to inform our present five years later.
Although I may go with an ePub version, and plan to supplement the book’s content with a monthly “Social Distancing Diary” that chronicles the 12 months between March 2020 and 2021 here on Substack, it was important to me that the first incarnation be in printed form.
Before I even started, it also was important to see if others I respect thought I was on to something. I recruited more than a dozen friends and professional colleagues to help with the process and critique the results. Self-published or not, every creative needs an editor, and this group helped tremendously in rounding the resulting book into its present form.
Keep Your Distance will be shipped to my house in two boxes the first week in March. After it arrives, I’ll start sending the book out to those who’ve pre-ordered — thank you! — and begin the process of schlepping It around.
If I’m lucky, I’ll make a small profit. If I’m not, a large contingent of family members, friends, and people I’ve just met will have a vinyl-sized album with 70 photos for their shelves.
The important part, for me, is that it’s done — a creative promise I made to myself fulfilled. Now it’s up to others who see it as well.
Keep Your Distance: Walking through the first year of COVID is available for $40 plus $5.95 for shipping and handling. You can order it by visiting this link, or if you live in the DMV, contact me here to make arrangements for pickup to avoid shipping costs.
Books are cool, the pandemic was something we never thought we would of encountered in our lifetime. Here is hoping we don't have to go through another. I too walked everyday and took nature photos. I liked the quiet. I live near a shopping mall which was closed and the parking lot was empty. We have a forest across the street I used to bide my time there as well.