Writers have a shit load of decisions to make:

Who to kill today, knife em or hang em, daily word count totals, book prices, whether to drown your book blurbing sorrows with vodka or wine… the list goes on.

But one of the biggest of all decisions of all is whether you’re going to run the rat race to traditional publishing, or  push the shiny red button yourself and claim the indie badge.

I made my decision. My blood runs thick with indie colours.

Publishers have their place, I’ll never see my books in a store *weeps* but that sure as shit ain’t enough of a reason for me to go begging book in hand to their doorstep.

Maybe there will come a time when I might need them and I’ll wander up tail between my word covered thighs. But I haven’t slaved over my book for two sodding years, only to be told…