Months of writing, endless editing, three book covers, brutally honest early readers, a very patient wife and a dog whose opinion matters more than you might imagine.
There's a peculiar feeling that comes over you when you're about to publish a new novel.
It's rather like waking up on your birthday.
You know something special is happening. There's an almost electric anticipation in the air, an excitement so tangible that you can practically reach out and touch it.
You feel younger, somehow.
A little restless.
A little ridiculous.
And ridiculously happy.
The funny thing is, the excitement becomes contagious.
Your wife senses it. Your dog senses it. Even the atmosphere around the house seems to change.
Something wonderful is about to happen.
A new book is entering the world.
And after months of work, you can finally introduce it to people who have never met its characters, visited its imaginary places or experienced the adventures you've spent so long creating.
It's a marvellous feeling.
But here's the part readers don't always see.
By the time an independent author reaches launch day, they've already survived a rather extraordinary journey.
It Begins with a Story
Long before the champagne, the announcements and the cheerful social media posts, there's an idea.
Sometimes it's a character. Sometimes a setting. Sometimes a single scene that refuses to leave your imagination.
You begin researching, planning and writing.
Days become weeks.
Weeks become months.
You build places that don't exist, introduce people you've never met and give them problems you wouldn't wish upon your worst enemy.
You worry about continuity.
You worry about whether a character would really say something like that.
You worry about whether the mysterious object you introduced in Chapter Three has somehow disappeared by Chapter Seventeen.
And then, eventually, you reach those two magnificent words.
The End.
You sit back.
You smile.
You've written a novel.
Wonderful!
Now the real work begins.
The Endless Business of Making Everything Right
Writing the first draft is only one part of the process.
Next comes reviewing and editing.
Line by line.
Sentence by sentence.
You remove unnecessary words, rewrite awkward passages, question dialogue and discover that a paragraph you thought was absolutely brilliant is actually rather dreadful.
Sometimes you wonder what possessed you to write it in the first place.
Then comes the house style.
And the style sheet.
Every little detail must be consistent.
Are the em dashes formatted correctly?
Are the quotation marks curly?
Does the dialogue punctuation follow the same conventions throughout the manuscript?
Have the chapter headings been styled consistently?
You become intimately acquainted with punctuation marks that ordinary people barely notice.
An em dash can ruin your afternoon.
A straight quotation mark can offend your sensibilities.
And don't even mention an unexpected line break.
Eventually, you convince yourself that the manuscript is ready.
Which means it's time for another challenge.
The Blurb That Nearly Broke the Author
You'd think that after writing an entire novel, producing a few paragraphs to describe it would be easy.
It isn't.
Oh, good heavens, it isn't.
You write a blurb.
You read it.
You cross it out.
You rewrite it.
You sleep on it.
The next morning, you decide the previous version was better.
Then you change it again.
The difficulty is that you must somehow capture the essence of an entire story without giving away its secrets.
You want to intrigue readers, not overwhelm them.
You want to make a promise the book can actually fulfil.
And you want to do all this in a handful of paragraphs.
Eventually, you arrive at something you rather like.
Time for the ultimate test.
You read it aloud to your wife.
And the dog.
Now, this is where things become interesting.
You're watching their faces.
You're listening for a reassuring response.
A smile would be lovely.
An enthusiastic wagging tail would be even better.
Instead, you hear a gasp.
Or a yap.
Or, heaven forbid, a growl.
Was that approval?
Disapproval?
Did the dog just object to the second paragraph?
You begin questioning everything.
Again.
The Publishing Machinery Awakes
Once the blurb is finally settled, there's still plenty to do.
You prepare the longer book description.
You research keywords and categories, trying to understand how readers might discover a story they don't yet know exists.
You update the back matter.
You check links to your earlier books.
You make sure readers who enjoy this novel can find the next one.
And then comes formatting.
The ebook.
The paperback.
The hardcover.
Three different publishing formats, each with its own requirements.
Different trim sizes.
Different margins.
Different cover dimensions.
The manuscript and cover must work together, and what looks beautiful in one format may need considerable adjustment in another.
Even the cover design becomes its own little adventure.
You want something that captures the atmosphere of the story, looks appealing at thumbnail size and still works as a physical book.
It's rather like dressing the same person for three entirely different occasions.
And, naturally, all three outfits must fit perfectly.
Eventually, everything is ready.
You upload the files.
You press the appropriate buttons.
And the publishing system greets you with a warning.
Or an error.
Or several.
You stare at the screen.
You rethink.
You revise.
You upload again.
Another warning.
Another adjustment.
And then, suddenly...
It works!
HOORRAY!
You feel as though you've conquered a small country.
Unfortunately, you're not finished yet.
Enter the ARC Readers
Next comes one of the most nerve-racking stages of the entire process.
Advance Reader Copies.
You make the manuscript available to early readers, hoping they'll enjoy the story and perhaps leave an honest review when the time comes.
These readers are wonderful.
They're also terrifying.
Because they don't simply read your novel.
They investigate it.
They notice things.
A stray punctuation mark.
An awkward line break.
A sentence that somehow escaped every previous editing pass.
And sometimes, if you're particularly unfortunate, they discover something you never intended another human being to see.
Like a personal editorial comment you forgot to remove.
Yes.
It's happened to me.
Twice.
There are few experiences quite like realising that a complete stranger has discovered one of your private manuscript notes.
You blush.
You wince.
You briefly consider moving to a remote Scottish island and changing your name.
But then you remember something important.
These readers are helping you.
Their honesty is valuable.
Their observations can make the finished book better.
And while you naturally hope they'll enjoy the story, their opinions are their own.
You cannot demand enthusiasm.
You can only write the best book you're capable of writing and hope it finds people who appreciate it.
Eventually, the ARC period comes to an end.
And then comes something unexpected.
Silence.
The Strange Quiet Before Launch Day
After all that activity, the book seems to go dormant.
For a week or two, there's a peculiar stillness.
The manuscript is finished.
The files are ready.
The early reading period has closed.
The launch date is approaching.
And you're waiting.
Of course, you don't actually sit around doing nothing.
You're an independent author.
You begin preparing announcements.
You create promotional images.
You record short videos.
You write social media posts and website articles.
You try to raise awareness, spark curiosity and give potential readers a reason to investigate your latest story.
You become a one-person publicity department.
And somewhere in the middle of all this, you're still writing your next novel.
Because the characters in your imagination have absolutely no respect for your publishing schedule.
They want your attention.
Immediately.
And so the cycle begins again, even before the current book has been released.
The Night Before Your Birthday
Then, at last, launch day is almost here.
And that extraordinary feeling returns.
The anticipation.
The nervous excitement.
The sense that something important is about to happen.
You check the book page.
You check your announcements.
You wonder whether anyone will notice.
You wonder whether anyone will buy it.
You wonder whether the people who do buy it will enjoy it.
And you tell yourself not to worry.
Which, of course, is completely useless advice.
Because this isn't merely a product you've placed on a virtual shelf.
It's a piece of your imagination.
A story that occupied your thoughts for months.
Characters who became familiar companions.
Places you visited in your mind so often that they almost began to feel real.
And now you're handing all of it to strangers.
That's a surprisingly vulnerable thing to do.
The University Opens Its Doors
Today, 27 October 2026, is the publication day of my latest novel, The Highlands University of Ghostology.
And yes, I woke up with that birthday feeling.
After months of planning, writing, editing and preparing, the university has finally opened its doors.
Over the past few days, I've been having enormous fun introducing it through a series of humorous promotional videos.
We've had royal telegrams, restless ghosts, ghostly musicians and even a golden Labrador who apparently believes that the supernatural exists solely to play fetch.
But beneath all the fun is that familiar excitement.
Another story has found its way into the world.
Another adventure has begun.
And somewhere out there, perhaps, a reader who has never heard of me will discover it.
They might laugh at the eccentric characters.
They might become fond of Coby McTavish.
They might turn the final page and decide they'd like to read another of my books.
I cannot know.
That's part of the adventure.
And Then Something Wonderful Happens
People sometimes ask why independent authors continue doing this.
Why spend months writing a novel, then weeks editing it, then more time formatting, publishing and promoting it?
Why go through the uncertainty?
Why expose something so personal to strangers who may or may not enjoy it?
I can only answer for myself.
Because I love telling stories.
Because creating fictional worlds gives me enormous pleasure.
And because every now and then, something happens that makes all the effort feel worthwhile.
A reader leaves a kind comment.
Someone tells me they enjoyed a character.
A stranger discovers one of my books.
Or I open my publishing dashboard and see something rather wonderful.
A sale.
An actual sale.
Somewhere, someone has decided to spend their hard-earned money on a story I invented.
And after all those months of work, all the revisions, all the punctuation marks, all the cover adjustments and all the nervous anticipation...
I sit there looking at the screen.
And I cry.
Not because I've become wealthy.
Not because I've conquered the publishing world.
But because someone wanted to read my story.
And for one glorious moment, that is enough.
Poof.
Just like that, all the effort feels worthwhile.
And tomorrow?
Well, tomorrow I'll probably be back at my desk.
Writing another novel.
Because apparently, I haven't learned my lesson.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.
The Highlands University of Ghostology was published on 27 October 2026. If you enjoy Scottish supernatural mysteries, eccentric characters and British humour, I'd love to welcome you to the university.
https://iwanross.com/books/the-highlands-university-of-ghostology