… as a well known aspiring author is told whilst at a writers’ retreat in Sue Townsend’s “Adrian Mole: The Wilderness Years.”

If only Adrian had had access, back in 1993, to the world of self-publishing via Amazon’s Kindle Store. But I wonder whether he, like myself, would doubt that this method of pushing one’s work into the public arena would provide the same sense of worth as having been accepted by a bona fide publisher.

Either way, I’ve now done just that, with my first completed novel, “Single Minded.”

I began “Single Minded” around ten years ago, when its working title was “Behind Closed Doors.” It originated with an image in my mind of a young man seeing a burning room in an ordinary house and the idea that the vision was somehow spectral. From that beginning, the story developed in my mind and I quickly decided that the young man, Hal, should be an estate agent and that he should be continually forced to visit this house which inspired such horror in him. (I was working as an estate agent myself at the time, although I can categorically say that Hal’s colleagues are all fictional creations, not direct representations of any of my colleagues from that time; with the possible exception of the character of Win, whose unorthodox opinions echo those of one of the most interesting people I’ve ever had the good fortune to meet, and who always encouraged me with my writing.)

The rest of the story gradually evolved, and over the next few years, snatching moments here and there, I completed it, edited it, left it alone, edited it some more, gave it to a few people to read, edited some more, and finally sent a sample to selected literary agents. Like the thousands of aspiring writers who hope that somebody will spot their genius within those sample chapters, I was disappointed to receive a full contingent of standard rejection letters, and I’m ashamed to confess that I let the matter drop. But I didn’t stop dreaming, and I didn’t stop thinking of new ideas and jotting down notes, characters and points for research.

Then, towards the end of 2011, I felt encouraged to give “Behind Closed Doors” another chance; encouraged by the feedback of those who had read it, I edited it once more, changed its name to the more evocative “Single Minded” and finally published it to the Kindle Store on 29th March. And there it lies, the first public airing of my fiction. Sales are slow but steady, and I’m learning to find my feet in the muddy waters of promoting one’s ebook.

But if I search my soul, I can’t help wondering whether this is really what I wanted. All authors must have self-belief and a conviction that they are worthy of being the next big name about to break onto the literary scene; all serious authors at least (disregarding those whose work contains more spelling mistakes than a five-year-old’s English exercise book). So where lies the difference between “indie publishing” and “vanity publishing”, which has always seemed to me to be a rather tacky and, to be frank, bolshy way of pushing one’s work into the public domain? I’m not sure anymore that there is much of a difference.

Ultimately, the vast majority of authors are not going to win that sought-after publishing deal. So where lies the harm in self-publishing after all? At no cost to the author, one’s work is formatted, presented and marketed to the visitors of one of the planet’s largest websites. And those visitors are presented with an enormous amount of potential reading material, chosen by them and not by a few agents or editors who are following market trends. And it’s possible for authors to make money by doing so. It’s win-win, as far as I can see. But for me, if I’m realistic, I know I won’t get rich by self-publishing; it’s more about the satisfaction of knowing that somebody somewhere thought my synopsis and/or book cover compelling enough to warrant handing over their cash. For me, that’s the joy. For all the glamour and potential that a publishing deal may offer, all I really care about is telling a story and hoping that others will read it and enjoy it.

Whether that story is validated by an agent or publisher is immaterial; one is still a writer.