Indie Book Collective Novels & Stories

“What’s unique is that it was heard. My book gave people like me a voice. Women who’ve been hurt, silenced, scared out of their dreams. What I want to create is a space—no, a home—for those voices. Stories that are hard. Raw. Unpolished but powerful.” I see Logan’s jaw twitch from the corner of my eye. I don’t look at him. I can’t. Not yet. I need to do this alone. I move through the slides. Target audience. Mission statement. Projected sales comparisons. Case studies from indie imprints that took risks and reaped returns. I feel myself slowly catching fire as I talk. Every slide is a piece of me I didn’t know I had—until now. “I’m not asking for a vanity project,” I say. “I’m asking to buil

It had been six days since the conference. Ryan’s inbox was still full strangers, survivors, and students all sending one thing: Gratitude. Some shared their own stories. Some said Ryan’s words had helped them finally end toxic relationships. Some… just said thank you. But one email stood out. Subject: Independent Publishing Proposal – “The Blog That Broke Us” Hi Ryan, I’m a freelance editor with IndieSeed Publishing. One of our scouts attended the conference this week and forwarded me a copy of your speech. I also found your archived blog posts and your narrative voice really struck me.

Zie said and sat down in the swivel chair, there was another vacant seat next to him, I carefully walked towards the vacant chair and sit down. "Well, I'm not gonna let you wait any longer. So I assume Zie already informed you about the state of Mendez Publishing Inc. and we are trying our best to cope up and gain our loss profit this month. As a result, the publishing company will venture into an indie pub where the pub will solely publish books with the boys' love genre." Mr. Brendon explains to me but I just look at him confused. Okay? Why is he telling me their plans for their company? I'm not a marketing assistant so I'm so confused by this.

I wondered if they had hidden gems, perhaps something I hadn’t read or that Uncle Alex’s book club, Bound To Please, hadn’t discovered yet. My eyes scanned the titles, recognizing several from our book club. But a series we hadn’t yet completed caught my attention. Not all the books were in print, and as much as we loved and wanted to support the indie author, A.D. Burnell, those reading apps could be a bit unpredictable. Yet, in Well Thumbed, all nine of her Queen Among series were here in paperback. I couldn’t resist. I plucked A Queen Among Snakes from the shelf and settled onto the nearest sofa. I set my empty cup down and delved into the book. How did they have books unavailable anywher

But tonight, wouldn't be that night. Scarlett and I had gone clubbing at The Astro and were standing at the bar waiting on drinks, both completely blitzed. The lights moved around in waves and danced to the music thumping in my ears. The club was designed for recreational drug users-whether the owners wanted to admit it or not. Black lights played on the dark walls and were the only illumination on the dance floor-this was an amazing place to roll. We had dosed in the parking lot before coming in, and as the wave started to set in, the atmosphere accentuated my high. I was easily lost in the people who danced with glow sticks to the funky techno beat. We frequented the club often enough that

But she… didn’t flinch. Lena walked over to a little table display and picked up a thin, cloth-bound book. She walked over to him, holding it out like an offering. *The Quiet Between Lightning Strikes.* A poetry book. The cover was old and nubbly, the title scribbled in fine silver ink. Julian stared at it like it was an alien thing. "What's this?" "A book," she said, smiling. "I told you. I don't—"

our little warrior insists, trying not to cry. As I tend to the scrape, Alex shows a letter that arrived. "The independent publisher from Seattle," he explains. "They want to publish your next book. No strings, no conditions." "NEW NORMAL: How the Publishing Market Rebuilds Post-Morrison" • Publishing Insights "Claire Bennett Launches Foundation in Her Sister’s Name: 'For Freedom of Expression'" • Culture Weekly Six Months Later The house is full for the twins’ birthday. Seven years—sometimes I can hardly believe it. Claire brings a huge cake, decorated with dinosaurs and books.

Given that the game itself was boring if played only by four people, it became extra boring because they couldn’t make noise whenever they wanted. On the other side of the room, near the door where a two-meter long bookshelf was established, Yuri and Cylvia dragged their chairs near it and took the chance to do their past-time hobby without getting disturbed. Yuri piled up some books on top of her desk and read them. Meanwhile, beside her was Cylvia scribbling lines on the surface of her all-time favorite blue and white diary. There had been a lot of poems and short stories written inside, and to read it thoroughly with her permission was considerably a must-not-miss opportunity.

she said, smiling happily at the thought of their first grandchild. “Hopefully, ma. By the way, I’m here to get my books.” “The ones by Jakara Blue? Yes, it’s on the bookshelf in your room.” Later in my room, I indeed saw about ten books by Jakara Blue that were arranged neatly on a shelf. I picked one of them and traced the embossed author’s name with my finger. This explained why I used the name Jakara Blue as my new name in Japan. It must be because I was an avid reader of Jakara Blue’s books. Remembering about my purpose in coming here, I started opening the folders that were arranged on another corner of the shelf. I had the habit of placing important documents in a folder.

The publisher's name was Yetunde. Adaeze discovered this when she clicked through to the profile that had sent the message, finding there a woman in her early forties with the particular quality of someone who had built something deliberately and inhabited it with the ease of long ownership. The publishing house was called Rootword Press — small, independent, Lagos-based, with a catalogue that Adaeze spent an evening reading through with the careful attention she brought to things she wanted to understand properly before forming an opinion about.