Is self-publishing giving up?

It used to be. They called it "vanity" publishing. Can't see how it's any more vain myself. Writing your thoughts on anything and throwing them out into public view is the most tremendous act of self-love after sticking posters of yourself above your bed. All writers ever want is to be worshipped, regardless of how they get it done.

It's just that if you're self-published, you've already been found wanting. Someone thinks you're crap. It can't get much worse for your vanity than that.

I resisted a long time before publishing my YA/adult crossover fantasy on Createspace. It felt like giving up. But I felt sorry for Cursed. Maybe I should have given it another title. Ten years ago, it was a film script. It's been entered into awards (shortlisted into oblivion). It's been kindly damned or even ignored by publishers and agents at home and abroad. It's been languishing in my hard drive ever since - and there it would sit if it weren't suddenly free to put it out there. It was too tempting. If I could just score one word of praise...
So in a moment of weakness, I caved. It's now for sale on Amazon, under the pseudonym Emma Benedict. If you want, you can even buy it here. All it took was a few easy (but incredibly time-consuming) steps, uploading content and choosing cover templates, and I was a published author again. But do I feel published? No. Like any other quick hit, this was empty.

Despite the few successes that self-publishing online has had (yeah, yeah, E. L. James and Amanda Hocking), it really is a fool's paradise. Instead of thousands of competitors being published every year, the sky is the limit. How on earth can anyone find your book in the digital morass? They're not in bookshops. They can't be browsed. Heaven knows, their DIY covers aren't going to catch anyone's eye. And without even the paltry sum publishers allocate to their midlist marketing, no one's even going to know they're there.

I wasn't invited to the ball. And while some people may be fine getting up to dance with their self-published friends and hanging out in the kitchen, drunkenly shouting I'm beautiful, I don't need a publisher! Ah, go f*!k yourself, you don' know wha' you're MISSING, yer wanker! it just isn't the same. I love publishers. I admit it. I was born that way.

Does this mean I don't support Createspace or Wattpad or any of those other creative vents? Of course not. People need hope. People need other people's encouragement. If anything else it's good practice. But it's not real.

If, against all expectation or likelihood, my book becomes a smash hit, I'll eat my words. Still, I'm not getting the table set.