‘A great book. I can see all its merits. But… I wouldn’t know how to place it in the market’.

This was from a literary agent. Perhaps, on some level, I knew this was coming.

Let me quickly share an abridged version of the letter this statement was in response to (the following is from me):

Hi XXXX,

Attached you’ll find a sample of my first completed manuscript, The Otero County Disclosure, a novel that’s inspired by my disabled brother, Ru, and the growing UFO phenomenon in the US in recent years.

I was really excited to read your profile on the XXXX website; that you’re a graduate of XXXX. A theme of my book is the military industrial complex. I note you’re looking for ‘speculative worlds that expose complicated truths about our own world.’

Here’s a summary of the novel:

What does wheelchair-bound Ex know that others don’t? How could anyone know if she’s never been able to talk. She doesn’t realise, but this super-bright British seventeen-year-old has someone’s attention.

Her widowed dad, Norman, working away for a renowned corporate client in the Arizona desert, has challenges of his own; anxiety, and a tricky programme rumoured to involve ‘exotic’ materials. He hasn’t noticed yet, but his biggest problem is a daughter back home.

The Otero County Disclosure is an exploration of the nature of our reality, wrapped-up in a father-daughter relationship that might just have the potential to change everything, for everyone.

I completed a creative writing course at the University of East Anglia (UK) a few years ago under the tutelage of The Otero County Disclosure’s editor. The novel could be comparable to The Ministry of Time, by Kaliane Bradley, in terms of potential cross-genre appeal (speculative/soft sci-fi, commercial, thriller). Or the work of Michael Chabon and Terry Pratchett, had they co-authored Close Encounters of the Third Kind.

My brother, my inspiration, had cerebral palsy. And I spent six months working on the set of a Netflix show. Both details being relevant to The Otero County Disclosure. I’m also a student of the current UAP (UFO) phenomenon in the US news cycle.

I’m a communications, culture, and behavioural change consultant, a former news journalist, magazine editor and advertising copywriter.

And so on and so on. For a further page.

On reflection, looking at the above through agents’ eyes, I too would be bewildered by the information here, so perhaps there’s no surprise they were unable to pinpoint the novel’s potential. It was a lesson learned. In fact, the whole process to the present has been a lesson learned. From purchasing ISBN numbers, building websites, understanding book promotion tactics, the world of book promo social media, building an author online presence, reader magnets, author networking, building a fanbase, book festivals, all the way to cover design, book formatting, book distribution and retail platforms, pricing strategies… I could go further, but that would be boring.

Back to the point of the agent’s response, above, and the time immediately prior.

So it was that in the autumn of 2024, three years after I’d begun writing The Otero County Disclosure, I sent off four agent representation query letters over a three week timeframe, including the one above. Each letter written from scratch and personalised to take account of the agents’ interests and tastes. I had already spent months researching potential contacts. It was hard, as I shall point out, because of the nature of the novel (witness the evidence, above). These four queries would be the only submissions I sent. It was just a few months since I’d completed the editing process. A period spent writing and honing my blurb, synopsis and cover letter (for the purpose of getting an agent). And then ripping the materials up and starting over. I got my editor, Steve, to review everything, since the two of us had spent a year during the editing process toing and froing over the novel’s genre, audience, and everything in between. It was tough.

By the time last December rolled around I could give you an elevator pitch in my sleep. And the hook. The setup. The payoff. The character arcs. The twists and turns and beats to get you salivating. The whole, detailed plot and synopsis.

And you would likely know nothing about the book I wrote. That I wanted to read, and which I took more pleasure from writing than I had any right to. It had felt almost sinful, such was the joy. All of life is poured into this book. Thus, when scribing the necessary elements for the purpose of submission, it was impossible to distil the nature of the novel. Was it a conspiracy thriller? Coming of age tale? Speculative fiction? Satire? Contemporary fiction? Try all of the above.

Well, it doesn’t matter now. To take a quote, from the movie, Field of Dreams; ‘If you build it, he will come.’ At least that’s what I hoped. And still hope for.

I read another great quote last week, from Lee Child, that illustrates my approach to writing the book, in which Child said he too began writing to give pleasure to himself first, writing the book(s) he wanted to read. He judged if he enjoyed the stories, others would too, and these tomes would eventually find their audience.

I took a similar view. However, in my case, this is a huge risk. I am a nobody author, without pedigree or contacts – or a large social media following. I haven’t written to formula, or with an ideal reader in mind (other than me). To a sweet spot book length, with template tropes and telegraphed beats. I admire folk who write this way, and every author is different. These are the authors who’ll bag an agent and have wildly successful careers.

Me? I prefer the road less travelled. That’s just the way I behave creatively, and how I write. Call it ‘discovery writing’, as editor Steve would term it. Knitting together the appealing bits (in my opinion anyway) of different genres to construct a narrative that is very different, and yet very familiar. There’s no rhyme or reason. Only the desire to write the best, most enjoyable book I could. For myself. In the hopes others would follow me into my world. I guess we’ll find out soon enough.

So it was I posted those four query letters well aware an agent was out of the question. Probably. Because I hadn’t written and played by the rules. I get it. And I’m comfortable with that. But the tools available to indies like me enable us to compete with the traditional publishing houses. It means I can publish the book I want the world to read and move on with my life, to the next novel, without spending months and years in the querying trenches seeking representation. And for what? Likely a small advance and the dismantling of the story I spent two years creating. To put it neatly in a genre box for ‘marketing’. Which brings me to my other consideration for going it alone; book promotion.

It seems whether you’re indie or trad, as an author you still have to do the promo legwork. I’m lucky. I spent quite a while working in PR and marketing, and advertising. I have the skills. Before this, I was a journalist. Even if I didn’t have this experience, it’s easily learned. All of which is to say, where is the downside in 2025 to going it alone? To retain some semblance of control over your creative process; from inspiration, through perspiration, to publication. Really, there isn’t one.

So anyway, those letters (read ‘emails’) went out. One I didn’t hear from. Two sent me polite declines. The last offered me the constructive feedback. The very next morning, right after my last response, the decision to go indie was made and I was outlining my website and thinking of a pen name, whilst strategizing the book’s launch, six months hence. I had known all along this was the path I would take. I wonder now whether the letters I sent were deliberate self-sabotage on my part, as if drawn by an invisible thread to the lure of indie authoring, and those letters only a token gesture. But then, I think, ‘heck, I’m a middle-aged man’. I have a few miles on the clock. I don’t want the hassle, or timewasting, that comes with a process that will ultimately favour bright young things. On a good day I can just about pass for mid-forties, but I don’t have the thirty-plus-year career ahead of me. Besides, life’s too short and I have books to write.

I must credit editor Steve here too. He it was who said I must publish the novel, that it ‘deserves’ a readership. I’ll take that and build a little hope around it. You see, by going indie I can avoid the relentless rejection that I know would harm my fragile self-confidence. The isolation of writing favours the reflective introvert, but publishing is all about putting yourself out there and being vulnerable. Something that doesn’t rest comfortably upon my shoulders. The day job’s one thing. But writing. Writing is so very private and any criticism seems like a personal attack. I guess I’ll just have to toughen up a bit!

The hardest part of the process to date has been the promotion. Laying the groundwork, building a following. It’s also the most fun. Building relationships and receiving feedback. Talking and writing relentlessly about the book. The method. But at the end of the day it’s a small price to pay for getting The Otero County Disclosure out, into the light, and, fingers crossed, read.

As practice, last week I spoke at the UK’s Stratford Literary Festival to soft launch the book. What a blast! And what a wonderful, warm and supportive group. It seems I needn’t have worried about the ‘public’ thing so much. No-one cares about me. They do care about my inspirations, mind, and why I wrote the book I did. And of course, they want to know about the novel itself, The Otero County Disclosure. It might not be everyone’s cup of tea (there were many cosy romance and fantasy authors on the bill) but everyone was respectful enough to hear us all out and offer words of encouragement.

I also met a spy. A former MI6 field officer. He was there promoting his traditionally published non-fiction book released last year; about learning lessons from the secret services. Essentially, how to get people to do your bidding. I laughed and told him I wished I’d met him several years earlier. He’d have saved me months of research! (The novel’s not a spy thriller, but there is conspiracy writ large, and references to clandestine government and corporate practices). So we chatted and, when my turn was done, and I stepped away from the microphone, returning to my seat, he said to me, ‘that sounds really interesting, can I have more details?’ (about the novel).

Hell, yeah!

I may not have written an easily pigeonholed novel that favours marketeers over readers. But. It’s a book I’ll stand behind and sell, one eBook or paperback at a time. Welcome to my world.

At the time of writing, publication day is just 55 days, four hours and 39 minutes away.

Thanks for reading.

Huey.

May 2025