The Unexpected Challenges of Being a Self-Publishing Author

There’s something rather thrilling about building a world from scratch. You craft your kingdoms, shape your gods, breathe life into characters who, over time, start talking back to you. But once you decide you actually want people to read what you’ve written, that’s when the reality sets in.

When I first began writing The Veil of Kings and Gods, I wasn’t thinking about publishing at all. I was just trying to write the story I’d been carrying around in my head for years. But now, with the second draft taking shape and the word count tipping well past 200,000, I’ve had to ask myself the real question: do I go down the traditional route, or do I take the leap into self-publishing?

For now, I’m leaning toward the latter. Not because I don’t believe in the traditional path, it has its strengths but because I believe in the world I’ve created, and I want the freedom to build it my way. That said, the journey to self-publishing isn’t all late-night writing sessions and dreamy cover design mockups. There are challenges you don’t quite anticipate until you’re knee-deep in them.

One of the trickiest is time. I work multiple jobs, juggle family responsibilities, and still try to make space for the novel. It’s not glamorous. Most of my writing happens in brief snatches, at school during breaks, late in the evening when the rest of the world has quieted down. Managing that with content creation for YouTube, blog writing, and building an author presence online is like spinning several plates while plotting a civil war between two kingdoms.

Then there’s the learning curve. Book formatting, ISBNs, metadata, newsletter tools, SEO, and reader psychology, none of it has anything to do with actually writing, and yet all of it matters if you want your book to reach readers. I’ve spent more time Googling “how to not look like an amateur author” than I care to admit.

Another odd challenge: sharing your work in public before it’s finished. Through Shorts, blog posts, and early lore reveals, I’ve let people peek into the world of The Veil of Kings and Gods before the final draft is done. It’s exciting but vulnerable. You’re inviting feedback, forming connections, and trying to grow a following, all while the foundations of your novel are still shifting beneath your feet.

The last thing I didn’t expect? The silence. Sometimes you pour yourself into a post, a video, a piece of lore, and it gets a handful of views, maybe a like or two. No comments. No shares. And that’s when you realise: you’re not just writing stories. You’re building faith. Quietly. Steadily. On days when no one is watching.

So yes, I’m leaning towards self-publishing. Because despite all that, I believe in this story and I believe in the long game. Traditional publishing may still be an option one day, but for now, the creative control, the direct connection to readers, and the freedom to pace this journey in a way that suits both the book and my life, that’s what I need.

If you’re also on this path, or thinking about it, I’d love to know what’s been the hardest part for you so far. Or maybe the most rewarding. Feel free to share it in the comments or just quietly know that you’re not the only one spinning the plates and chasing the dream.

When Characters Refuse to Obey A Quiet Update from the Writing Desk

There are days when the words arrive with purpose, unfolding like the tide, steady, inevitable, drawn by unseen moons I never named. And then there are days like this past week, where a single scene becomes something else entirely. Not broken, nor wrong, simply… changed. Unexpected. Alive in a way I had not planned.

I was rewriting a chapter for The Veil of Kings and Gods, one that should have followed the arc I had carefully woven. The notes were there, the pacing mapped, the motivations aligned. Simion was meant to speak. A single line. Firm, measured, final. A rejection. It would have been a turning point of sorts, the moment he chooses distance over duty.

And yet, as I reached that moment, he waited.

Not in defiance. He was simply still. Listening. Watching. And when the words came, they were not rejection, but understanding. A softness I had not intended entered the scene, subtle, unexpected, entirely right. It changed the shape of the moment. It changed him. And through him, the shape of what follows.

This is not the first time a character has shifted beneath my hands. Patrick once delayed a speech for two chapters because his silence held more weight than I had imagined. Elana once turned back when I thought she would walk away. Even Týrnan, who so often walks the edge of fire and certainty, veered off course once to grant mercy where I had written none.

These are not dramatic revisions. They are the quiet revolts, the ones that happen deep in the bones of the work. You do not always see them coming. They’re not betrayals of plan or plot. They are corrections of truth. A character, fully formed, will sometimes remind you that they are no longer yours to shape so easily.

So this is where I am. Still within the final stretch of the book. Still rewriting, refining, listening. Not rushing. Letting the weight of each word find its proper place. Some chapters arrive like stone. Others like river. All must settle before the storm.

Thank you for reading and for walking this strange, shifting path with me.

Until the next.