The Other Side of Self-Publishing

When people talk about self-publishing, the focus is often on the writing, the editing, and the moment you finally hold your finished book in your hands. What doesn’t get talked about enough is the other side of self-publishing—the marketing, the vulnerability, and the constant battle with fear and doubt.

Marketing is a world all its own. It means keeping up with social media posts, creating promo videos, considering merchandise, and slowly trying to build an audience that connects with your work. All of it takes time—far more time than I ever expected.

I started out simply. Instagram was originally just a space to support my art. It felt safe. Familiar. After a while, though, that quiet pull toward writing returned—the same one that has never truly left me. I wanted to be known not just as an artist, but as a writer. That decision led me to open a LinkedIn account, and from there, things slowly expanded.

Over the past few months, I’ve pushed myself to do more, even when it felt uncomfortable. I started another blog, opened a Facebook account with the help of my daughter, and created accounts on YouTube and TikTok. I also signed back up for Behance to share my trailers and artwork. Each step felt small on its own, but together they represented something much bigger: my willingness to be seen.

I wish I could say I post consistently every week, but the reality is more complicated. I work two jobs, and I help raise my grandbabies. My days are full. I’m not complaining—I am incredibly fortunate to be able to provide, to work, and to support my family. But it does mean that my passion for writing and art has often been pushed to the back burner.

For a long time, fear and doubt helped keep it there. Fear of not being good enough. Fear of being invisible. Fear of putting my heart into something and watching it fail.

But the truth is this: I’ve placed my dreams on hold for too long.

Marketing isn’t easy. It’s tedious, repetitive, and often discouraging. It can feel like shouting into the void. Yet it’s also necessary—and over time, it does pay off. Maybe not always in sales, but in growth, confidence, and connection.

I am proud of the work I have done. I’ve been dedicated to my projects for many years, even during seasons when I couldn’t pursue them the way I wanted to. I may not have sold many books or art pieces, but success isn’t measured by numbers alone.

I haven’t given up.

I am still growing as an artist and as a writer. I am still learning. And along the way, I’ve inspired others simply by continuing to create.

This is the other side of self-publishing—the quiet persistence, the courage to keep showing up, and the decision to believe that your voice matters, even when the world feels loud and crowded.

And this time, I’m choosing not to put my passion away again.

For you, my readers, another glimpse inside Far From Oz

 Into the Veil

Far away from all the others, I sit in my room. I can no longer bear to listen to their broken thoughts. I yearn to return to my reality – my sanctuary. The place they claim does not exist, the place where I can shield myself from the encroaching Darkness.

At night, the outline of the doorway beckons to me, tantalizingly close yet agonizingly out of reach. It’s not fair. They don’t understand. This is not where I belong. I gaze up at the walls adorned with drawings, remnants of a world that feels both distant and achingly familiar. The mountain looms over me, its rugged silhouette whispering of distant echoes. I can almost hear the wind rustling through the willows, the birdsong filling the air.

The doorway materializes before me in my mind’s eye, a beacon of light piercing the shadows. I can hear my people calling out to me, their voices a faint echo in the depths of my soul. ‘Find us,’ they urge, their words a haunting melody that resonates within me.

I hear them. I want to find them. I will find them. The Veil is real. The Veil will guide me home.