Why I built Dilettante Press instead of waiting for permission from traditional publishers.
Self-Publishing and Legitimacy
I suppose one could say it’s silly — even a bit overkill — to go through the trouble of creating an LLC and a DBA just to establish a publishing imprint for self-publishing. And maybe it is. But there’s something about the feeling of legitimacy that comes with going one step further than simply uploading a manuscript to Amazon KDP.
That’s not to say there’s anything wrong with KDP or with any other platform that gets your work out there. I have no quarrel with whatever method gets your words into readers’ hands. But what drove it home for me was the disconnect I saw: on one side, self-publishing outfits selling overpriced packages and nickel-and-dimed à la carte services; on the other, traditional publishing with its endless gatekeeping.
I often wonder how many great books wound up stuffed in drawers — or worse, tossed in the trash — because the path to publication was as capricious as it was difficult. You can’t research “how to get published” for more than ten minutes without stumbling across a story about a manuscript rejected over and over again until one day, finally, a publisher bites.
Faced with those two extremes — predatory “services” on one side and the brick wall of traditional publishing on the other — I decided to carve out my own middle ground. If the system was stacked against authors either way, the only logical move was to build something of my own, on my own terms.
My First Published Book
My first book was about my philosophy of personal growth, emotional wellness, and spirituality. I didn’t write it to sell, but to give away. If it did sell, great — but I knew without Oprah or an army of publicists, it wasn’t going to catch fire.
I did glance at traditional routes like Hay House (with its own less-than-traditional model) and even pulled out my copy of Writer’s Market. Then I put it right back on the shelf.
Here’s why: when a publisher buys a book, they tend to take control over its content. They ask for edits and revisions until it meets their standards for a salable product. That means surrendering creative control. For my book, that could have changed the message completely, and I wasn’t willing to let that happen.
So the only other option was to publish it myself.
Self-Publishing Is Like the Wild West
Once I decided to go the DIY route, I dove in headfirst. And boy, did I get an education.
The first thing I learned is that self-publishing isn’t one thing — it’s a whole spectrum. On one end, you’ve got upload-and-go platforms like Amazon KDP, Draft2Digital, and Lulu. On the other, you’ve got predators dressed up like “publishing partners,” eager to take thousands of dollars for a book that will never sell outside your immediate family.
Somewhere in between is the author who treats their book like a business. That’s where the LLC and imprint came in for me. It wasn’t that creating a company was going to magically sell books — it didn’t. But it gave me ownership of my ISBNs, control of my metadata, and a name — Dilettante Press — that looked a whole lot better on a copyright page than “Independently published.”
It was also about psychology. Seeing that imprint on the spine gave the project weight. It wasn’t just a file dumped onto Amazon’s servers. It was a book — my book — published by a press I owned. That mattered more than I expected.
Make no mistake: it wasn’t smooth sailing. ISBNs cost money. Metadata is arcane. The Library of Congress application process feels like a secret initiation rite. And formatting a manuscript so it doesn’t look like an amateur Word doc nightmare took weeks of tinkering and more swear words than I care to admit.
That first book taught me the ropes, the costs, and the hidden traps. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was empowering. And when I finally held the finished book in my hands, it was worth every headache — because I had learned enough to own the process myself.
Saddling Up Again
Now I’m working on a new book in a completely different genre. Knowing what I know now, I believe it’s salable. It’s current, topical, with just the right amount of edge. I think it would have a good chance of getting a bite — but I’m not going to find out.
Here’s why: unless you’re famous, have a massive social media following, or a proven publishing record, no house is going to pour significant money into your project. They’ll expect you to bankroll your own marketing, buy cases of your book, and travel around hawking it.
You’ll be doing the work, spending the time, and laying out the money to sell your book — but seeing only a dollar or two in royalties per copy while the publisher and distributor take their cut. If it doesn’t sell, they eat the loss. If it does, you’re still the one footing the real bill: marketing, travel, bulk orders, all of it.
So I asked myself: if I’m going to do all the legwork anyway, why cut myself off from a bigger piece of the pie? Why not put in the sweat equity, hire a good marketing firm, spend time with media influencers, and see where it goes?
Self-publishing is often expensive, yes. But it shouldn’t be hard or heartbreaking. Especially not the latter.
From Author to Publisher
At first, I thought creating an imprint was just window-dressing — giving self-publishing an air of respectability by slapping a name on it. But the more I dug in, the more I realized I was wrong. An imprint isn’t a disguise; it’s a declaration. It’s a mark that says: I take this seriously.
There’s more to it than a logo on the spine. There’s a whole sequence of steps that have to be taken — in the right order — to do it right: legal structure, ISBNs, distribution accounts, metadata, cataloging. Once you’ve done it, you’re not just pretending anymore. You’re a publisher.
Why Dilettante?
Of all the names I could have chosen, why Dilettante? I’ve always been a dabbler — jack of all trades, master of a couple. My degree is in psychology, my next book is a sociopolitical history, and my resume includes stints in journalism and pre-press graphics. That makes me a dilettante, in the truest sense.
Dilettante Press is not a traditional house or an indie shop. It’s more than self-publishing but less than a vanity press. It’s a partner for writers who want legitimacy without surrendering control or being fleeced by overpriced “packages.”
The imprint is as real as Random House or Penguin — just without the prestige or the price tag. And that’s enough.
