In April 2009, after my historical mystery, the Maids of Misfortune, had been out for 4 months and I had sold 158 books, I asked on this blog whether I could call myself a “real author.” This was in response to the frequently stated opinion of those against self-publishing that people who took that route were only going to sell to family and friends and weren’t real authors. In fact, a year ago almost all of the blog posts on self-publishing revolved around the debate (and they were definitely heated debates) about whether or not self-publishing was good (because the traditional industry sucked) or was bad (because all self-published books sucked). However, as the year progressed, I began to notice a shift in the tenor of the debate, as the majority of blog posts about self-publishing began to be devoted Read more…