The publishing world is changing or, rather, change is being thrust upon it. It is becoming less exclusive and open to a wider field of participants—more writers, more diverse readers. The expanding field of e-books is leveling the playing field. Anyone can publish an e-book, price it low, and sell it cheap. There are more people able to publish than at any time in history. The loss of exclusivity threatens some of us and encourages others. It means we must share the realm—this realm we have fought so hard to gain entrance to–and that is a concept many cannot accept.

Why do we write? For notoriety? For money? For membership in an exclusive club? For the right to contend for a certain award? Or do we write because we love to share information, ideas, magical realms, tragic experiences, or compelling romances? Do we write because our readers long to escape into a good story—to take a journey only we can orchestrate? There are many ways to make money. There’s only one way to provide good books, and that’s to write good books.

This is not an exclusive club existing for the benefit of its members. This is a passion shared by many, many people on both sides of the page. Some want to safeguard the ‘purity’ of literature by allowing only those favored few to provide it. While that is understandable, the concept of what constitutes ‘literature’ has always been open to interpretation. Granted, many indie books should not have been allowed outside the author’s basement, but some have been as good, and even superior to, books with a more recognizable logo on the spine. A great book is a treasure regardless of how it reaches the readers’ hands.

I admire any writer with the perseverance, patience, and dedication to break into the difficult arena of traditional publishing. I also admire the independents with the courage to put their work out there anyway, to shoulder all the duties and responsibilities of promotion, editing, and design. To take all the risk. Whether they produce the book themselves or sub-contract a subsidy publisher is completely, utterly irrelevant, though some folks just love the term ‘vanity publisher’, as it implies the author’s work is only worthy in his/her own mind. How very narrow-minded of them.

I dabble in many creative fields; writing, illustration, songwriting and performance. As such, I have occasion to find myself among writers, artists, and musicians. One might imagine they would be similar–they are all creative people–but it’s the writers who demand to see a pedigree before they will accept a fellow writer. Musicians are by far the most welcoming. They love to play together, to try new forms of music, to share what their fellow musicians are doing, and to cheer one another on. I don’t understand why that is, but I do know one thing: writers would do well to take a lesson from them, because the traditional model is in need of a makeover.

The good news is that there are enough appreciative readers to go around. The bad books won’t survive. The good ones will. The deluded writers (those who don’t understand basic proofreading, let alone editing) will learn some hard lessons. If they are dedicated they will adapt. If not, they’ll fall by the wayside along with the ‘failed’ musicians and artists. At least they will have seen their work in print, which is enough reward for some. It’s not our place to deny them the opportunity.

As I read these comments, many of which are filled with outrage on behalf of the poor, deluded, unworthy writers whose dreams will be hijacked for money, I cannot help but wonder whether some of the concern lies not for them, but for the ‘exclusive club’. Writers have worked hard to attain that distinction and they deserve esteem, but we need to play together. Yes, some indie authors are talentless, deluded, and hopeless. Others are willing to develop their talents, to polish their skills and manuscripts, to seek editorial help, and to produce a product of quality. The market is stacked against them yet they persevere, and their reasons for ‘going indie’ are their own.

Good books must be written, and good stories deserve to be shared. I’m a self-taught guitar player, but the ‘real’ musicians will jam with me anyway. Each of us lends talent to the circle. Why can’t writers do the same?