With my 12 year old daughter, I picked up a copy of my book that
I had left for a local business owner to ask permission to sell in their store. Why? Because they wouldn't carry a local author due to the fact that I am self-published and they are afraid of not being able to maintain stock at their three (generally local for Northern Michigan) stores. This is not the first time I have heard this line, "Oh. You're self-published. Do you have an agent?" I take it in stride, trying to come up with new ways to sell, listening to the advice some kind people have advised while politely declining selling at their store. My daughter, on the other hand, was very upset. She stopped me from getting out of the truck and said, "Mom, I don't get it. Just because you published this book yourself, no one wants to carry it in their store? It's like being black. You are judged for something totally ridiculous and unfair." She went on to say unbelievable things about my hard work, a fact that I didn't realize that she had noticed, but that statement hit me like a ton of bricks and I was at a loss for words, stumbling through something like, "I know. I'll keep trying."
As I chew on the comparison, I am once again reminded of the fact that I don't have a "Super Store" publisher with an editor to find all my mistakes or an agent to market my book and remind me of my worth as an author. I have my daughter to remind me to keep working hard, past the lump in my throat and the heavy heart, because I know I am worthy. Now, on to another task on my list.