Yes, money was a factor, but I also made myself a promise

I walked into a windowless room lined with shelves, floor to ceiling. Every shelf was filled with binders. I grabbed one and opened it — hundreds of headshots filled plastic liners. One of my film instructors was giving me a tour of the film school I was attending. I looked around, and the instructor said something ominous.

“This is the first room. Let me show you the second.”

I followed him across the hall into the so-called second room. It was exactly the same as the first room — no windows, plastic binders floor to ceiling, filled with headshots — except the second room was at least three times bigger.

My film instructor said, “So these are all actors in the city who are willing to be in your film. Just look at the headshots, pull the contact information, cast your film, and get moving.”

He started to walk away, so I asked the only question that popped into my head: “What’s the difference between the first room and the second room?”

“Easy,” he said. “The first room you have to pay the actors. The second room will work for free.”

The sheer number of actors and actresses who were waiting on a shelf to be picked by someone like me — a film student who had an idea for a film and was ready to produce it — was astronomical. There had to be 10,000 headshots in those binders in the first room. And at least triple that in the second room. I was a broke student who couldn’t afford to pay anyone. Yet I had the power to pick one out of thousands. I eventually found an actor, but I’ll never forget those two rooms.

Not long after, I made a decision. I would never be a head in a binder, waiting for someone to pick me. There had to be better ways of moving forward in a career.

I’ve carried that desire and drive with me ever since.

I hate waiting for people to pick me. That’s part of why I self-published my first children’s book. And my second one. But it’s not the only reason. I’ve had dozens of people ask me why I self-published CinderToot, SantaToot, and Children of CinderToot (and why I’ll continue to self-publish, at least for now). In this article, I explain my reasoning, with the hope that it will inspire someone else to stop waiting for others to find and pull their headshot out of a binder.

1. More Control

If you self-publish, you don’t answer to anyone except yourself. You can make whatever creative choices you want. Most people might fear that option, but I don’t. I embrace it.

I’m not afraid to put my idea in front of professionals, get feedback, and then move forward. Plus, I’m willing to do what it takes to build a great team — just like a traditional publisher would do — in order to produce a great product.

In short, I don’t want someone else to have total control over my story idea and execution. That’s one reason why I chose to self-publish.

2. Higher Royalties

It’s hard to make a lot of money selling books — especially children’s books.

I review book contracts often. The standard royalty rate is 10–15%, plus subtractions for expenses and other items. The rate can even be lower in some circumstances.

If you self-publish, you set the price of the book and you control the expenses. You don’t have to pay for the salary of someone who doesn’t make the book better. You do have more responsibility, but I’m not afraid of that.

I was ready to take the risk of having more responsibility as long as I could participate in more upside. That’s another reason why I self-published CinderToot, SantaToot, and Children of CinderToot.

3. Easier to Use Paid Promotions

Modern marketing includes paid promotions and advertising. If I don’t control the revenue and expenses, then I can’t effectively use paid marketing channels. It’s as simple as that. No one is as vested as me if I self-publish. But it’s also true that no one is as vested as me with a traditional publisher as well.

I wanted the ability to use modern marketing to make CinderToot, SantaToot, and Children of CinderToot successful. For me, self-publishing allowed me the freedom and control to do that.

4. Control of the Rights

I’ve probably looked at dozens of contracts for clients, searching for ways to get rights back that were signed away. Sure, copyright law in the United States has some reversion provisions — but who wants to wait decades? It’s complicated and expensive — just ask Marvel and some of its creators.

Even with a traditional publisher, you can negotiate to get your rights back if your book isn’t selling (which is smart, by the way). For me, I just hate the idea of having to ask for the rights to my own book back. I wrote the book. It was my idea. Why can’t I do what I want with it? That’s how I think, at least at the moment.

Even more, I can write a sequel, or two sequels, or create a universe of books with the same characters, without asking permission from anyone else. I can sell merchandise or own the intellectual property associated with the book.

I wanted to control all of the rights associated with my book. That’s another reason why I chose self-publishing

5. I Can Move Faster

A client of mine had his book picked up by a traditional publisher. The book was slated to come out two years after signing the publishing contract. Two years! I wrote a book, had it edited, illustrated, designed, and out the door in less than one year. And that was with me working 15 minutes a day on the book. After publishing CinderToot, SantaToot, and Children of CinderToot , I really think I could publish 2 to 3 books a year using my current process — all in about 15 minutes a day. I like being able to move quickly, as needed, and being able to adapt on the fly.

6. My Stories Are Like My Children

An artist’s work is like a parent in many ways. You spend so much time creating a work — time on each word, illustration, and even color. Then, at some point the child leaves the artist and has to function in the world without its creator.

That’s why it’s difficult to sell your art. That’s why it’s hard to sign away the rights to your creation. It’s like a child. And it usually represents years of your life — all distilled into one tiny book or script or film or piece of art.

I barely trust anyone with my own children. I have similar feelings about my books. I don’t want to beg someone to cherish, publish, and promote my books. If I find someone who will take care of my children better than I would, then I’ll listen.

But I haven’t found that person yet. That’s why I self-published.

7. The Promise I Made Myself

Years ago, I made a promise to myself.

For a prior job, I read every book that related to my work. I tried to innovate in every area to make my workplace better and more profitable. If an area could be better, I made a plan and discussed with senior leadership how to improve.

I had given my best ideas to my employer. After a while, though, I realized that my work was going unrewarded. It was certainly appreciated, but I didn’t receive any financial rewards. There were good people running the company, but I still felt like I made significant contributions without benefitting personally.

At that rate, I would never get ahead. Something had to change.

So I made myself a promise. If I had any cool or crazy ideas — I would execute them for myself first. If the idea failed, then I could handle the loss and embarrassment. But if the idea succeeded tremendously, then I would get to participate in the upside — I’d keep the money, not someone else.

I remembered this promise when I came up with the idea for CinderToot as I was telling bedtime stories with my kids one night. I learned to deal with, and laugh at, the embarrassment of the story. Self-publishing allowed me to tell the story of a tooting Cinderella without giving away the upside.

I Hate Waiting for People to Pick Me

I used to act in plays in high school and college. But I hated waiting for people to pick me. So I started writing and producing. Then I could create my own projects and avoid the painful silence of waiting on other people.

When I wrote my first children’s book, I didn’t want to wait for someone else to believe in the idea. I didn’t want to wait for someone else to make a bet on me and this silly story of mine.

What I wanted was a chance to turn a funny story into something bigger. If it didn’t work, then I would have made my kids happy and taught them some cool lessons about business and life in the process. But if it worked, I wanted to make sure that we benefitted as well.

Self-publishing isn’t for everyone, and it isn’t perfect. But it made sense for me for CinderToot, SantaToot, and Children of CinderToot, and probably more to come.

As long as I keep the promise to myself, it’s going to be a fun ride.

. . .

Learn the one lesson that has changed my life more than any other.