Point Me In The Direction Of Self-Published Awesomeness

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Let’s not beat around the bush.

I’ve got IRREGULAR CREATURES up at Amazon, and I’ve got it here and at Smashwords and a few other places. And I am, in some cases, amongst some damn good company. Anthony Neil Smith’s CHOKE ON YOUR LIES? Chris Holm’s 8 POUNDS? The TERMINAL DAMAGE collection?

Great stuff. And just the tip of the iceberg.

But c’mon. C’mon.

For every one piece of awesome “indie publishing,” you get ten, twenty, maybe even a hundred pieces of nonsense floating around. For every satchel of diamonds you get ten poop-encrusted toilet seats. For every Geoffrey Chaucer you get a hundred brain-sick spider monkeys.

The ratio isn’t yet what you’d find in traditional publishing.

Further, I’m learning more and more that the self-published author doesn’t have the same vectors of promotion. It is, by and large, up to the author (and the author’s incredibly generous audience) to get the word out about one’s own work. The normal channels of marketing and visibility and promotion (read: whoring) just don’t exist yet for the self-published dude.

Should we continue to call it self-publishing, by the way? Can we just lose the “self?” “Indie” works, I suppose, but for me, maybe “DIY publishing” has a bit more of a workmanlike ethos.

Or maybe “punk publishing.” Pubpunk? Wordpunk? Inkpunk?

Eh, whatever. I’m stumbling off the path, here.

What I’m saying is, since those normal channels don’t really exist for the self-indie-DIY-pubbed penmonkey, it helps if the penmonkey’s audience spreads the word.

So, spread the word. Here, now. Tell me about some high quality indie fiction out there. Digital, if you please. Stuff that’s on par with work that has come out through the traditional system.

And hell, if you are just such an author, and you think your work is of that quality, pimp away.

Give links where appropriate.