Photo by ClickerHappy

Today’s guest post is by author Ashli O’Connell.

When I made the decision to self-publish my historical novel Emmaline, I had little knowledge about book publishing. But having spent 25 years in journalism and marketing, I understood enough to know that publishing was both art and business. I suspected the same marketing principles that I used to help organizations communicate with audiences would also serve me in this new endeavor, even if I had to learn the business side of book publishing from scratch.

Emmaline is an adult historical novel primarily set during the 1856 Mormon handcart migration. It follows a 14-year-old girl who escapes a forced plural marriage. The book explores themes like grief, religious coercion, polygamy, and the struggle for personal agency. But at its heart, Emmaline is a character-driven story about resilience.

Defining the goal

I started by asking myself the question I have asked marketing clients over the years: What is your goal? I don’t believe there is one perfect marketing strategy for anything. Start with your goal and work backward to get there.

Some indie authors simply want to have a book printed for family and friends. Others want to publish frequently and build a profitable backlist. I didn’t want either of those things. I wanted to produce a novel that could stand alongside traditionally published comps and be taken seriously. None of these goals is right or wrong. But each leads to a different set of publishing decisions.

Early strategy

The initial focus was on the book itself. Emmaline might never sit on a historical fiction table at Barnes & Noble, but if it did, I didn’t want anyone to pick it up and say it didn’t belong. Therefore, my two most important investments were hiring an editor and designer.

I also knew that being a publishing team of one put me in danger of tunnel vision. So I assembled a group of friends and former colleagues with expertise that could help cover my blind spots. This small team of writers, editors, marketers, a college professor, and a former librarian helped me pressure test ideas and decisions.

I planned six months for the book’s production and pre-launch marketing. One of the biggest mistakes I see new authors make is hitting publish and then asking, “How do I market my book?” I believe that question should be asked at least six months in advance.

Pre-launch marketing

I look at marketing a book as building an entire ecosystem. There is rarely one tactic that leads to a direct sale. Multiple touch points are needed before most consumers make a purchase. Familiarity breeds trust. On this point, I was starting from almost zero. I did not have a name or a platform. I had a personal Facebook account and a distaste for most other social media. I knew that would not do.

I built a website and created author accounts on Facebook, Instagram, and Substack in December 2025 with a May 2026 launch in mind. Then the slow work of “building an audience” began.

I first announced the upcoming novel on my personal Facebook profile. Because I wanted Emmaline to be taken as seriously as any traditionally published title, I was careful to never speak about it as if it were “just” a self-published book. I was open about self-publishing, and I communicated that decision with pride. I believed in my book. I believed it had an audience. So I treated it with the same respect that I wanted from others.

I hoped that my enthusiasm would be contagious within my personal network, and it was. The first 50–100 followers on my author accounts were supportive family and friends, and they have been invaluable ambassadors for Emmaline.

I sometimes read advice that you should discourage your family and friends from buying your book because it “confuses the algorithm” if they aren’t in your target audience. I rejected this advice. I understand that some books may be particularly misaligned with an author’s personal network, and others are publishing under pen names they wish to keep separate from their personal or professional lives. But if you are going public with your name, I don’t recommend discouraging any sale.

A sale is a sale, and early momentum is crucial. If anything can be understood about “the algorithm,” it’s that a book without sales is going to struggle to get any visibility. More importantly, these are the people who believe in you the most. They will not just buy your book, they will post, review, recommend, and gift it to others. You can’t buy that kind of early buzz. The algorithm will catch up as sales accumulate. I had a large, eclectic group of early buyers, but my “also boughts” and “related books” are well matched. The platforms were not confused about the audience.

Testing the message

I used my pre-launch period to test messaging that I intended to use for ads post-launch. Emmaline’s themes naturally lend themselves to historical and educational content, so I began writing Substack pieces and making reels about the topics and themes in the book. I took note of which content performed the best and built on those concepts. Through continued experimentation, I was able to narrow my most effective messaging down to two simple ideas: “It’s not a cozy pioneer story” and “This book might not be for you.”

I believe those sentences worked because they didn’t summarize the novel; they positioned it. “Don’t read this book if you’re looking for a cozy pioneer story” disrupted the sentimental expectations many readers associate with pioneer fiction and signaled that the book would treat its history seriously.

These ideas also allowed readers to identify themselves as part of the audience or not, while creating curiosity about what might make it challenging. Together, the two messages helped establish clarity about the book’s tone, point of view, and audience.

While Emmaline was in pre-order, I tested low-budget Meta ads with these ideas ($5 per day). My goal was simply to analyze click data. I didn’t expect to sell any books at this stage. But to my surprise, the “Don’t read this book if you’re looking for a cozy pioneer story” hook with an image of the cover started selling books. I had 66 pre-orders from ads that weren’t supposed to sell anything. Those aren’t viral numbers, but they were certainly a nice boost to my launch.

“This book might not be for you” worked better as a boosted reel. I explained the reasons a person wouldn’t like the book (“if you like a romanticized version of history,” “if you don’t like asking hard questions,” etc), and then said, “For reasons why you will like the book, read the caption.” This worked well on both Facebook and Instagram. Post-launch, I continue to try new reels and content. I capitalize on what’s working and move on from what doesn’t.

Risk tolerance

Self-publishing gives the author control, but control comes with risk. You are risking money, time, credibility, emotional stability, and public judgment. You make those bets without any guarantee of success, and there’s no publisher standing behind you to absorb any of it. A high tolerance for risk will serve you well.

Three decisions were especially terrifying for me: placing the book on NetGalley for advance reader reviews, submitting it to Kirkus, and sharing my progress publicly for months before release. I understood the very real possibility that NetGalley could leave me launching with low ratings. A negative Kirkus review would shatter my confidence and undermine my marketing plans. And sharing the process so openly could have fatigued my limited audience or, worse, left me failing in full public view.

Ultimately, the risk-reward calculus led me to bet on the potential reward. I second-guessed those decisions often while awaiting the outcomes, but in the end, the payoff was worth the risk, and Emmaline launched in a much stronger position than it would have if I hadn’t taken those steps.

The results

I released Emmaline on May 19, 2026, after about 18 months of writing, revising, production, and marketing. That day, I already believed I had largely met my goal: I was proud of my book and also already receiving reviews that indicated readers considered it a serious work of historical fiction. I enjoyed a celebratory launch party with family and friends and had enthusiastic supporters who were already spreading the word.

But the moment of truth as the book officially entered the world felt at once exhilarating and terrifying. Keeping in line with my goals, I chose to publish wide and price similarly to my traditionally published comps: $9.99 for ebook and $17.99 for paperback (with a $2 discount during launch week).

My “platform” was still frustratingly small for six months of work. With crossover, I estimated about 300 followers at the time of launch. That number has not quite doubled since publication, so the slow work of platform building continues. But my platform and my name were not what ultimately mattered when it came to selling this book.

Readers were.

I stopped advertising after six weeks (except for the occasional boosted reel) because I was out of advertising budget, and Emmaline was quickly becoming a word-of-mouth book. I fueled this by encouraging readers to send me copies of themselves with the book, packages arriving, and hold lists at their libraries. Many sent these to me via tagged posts on social media.

Others posted reviews in online book groups. These posts have been the single most effective driver of sales, but you cannot manufacture them. Do not try. Consumers can smell an ad that masquerades as an organic post. Your job is to keep putting the book in front of people and let readers carry it forward. It took me two weeks to accrue my first $1,000 in royalties and another week to accrue the next $1,000.

As I write this, it is almost the end of the tenth week of my launch. Here’s a look at the numbers from May 19 to July 31, 2026 (due to reporting lags, some numbers are approximate).

Expenses

Sales and royalties*

* I launched the audiobook on July 13, 2026 (with a separate budget of $5,000 for voice talent and production). As of this writing, ACX reports 283 net sales, but royalty reports will not be available until the end of August.

Going forward

Ten weeks isn’t enough time to declare success. Books have long lives, and I hope Emmaline continues finding readers for many years. But it is enough time to draw some conclusions about strategy, and looking back, I would fundamentally change only a few things.

• I would begin earlier. Six months of pre-launch marketing was valuable, but a year would have been better.
• I would also look for a lower-cost alternative to NetGalley. NetGalley reviewers are not vetted, and they follow through at an astonishingly low rate. Though the reviews I got were excellent, the cost was relatively astronomical. (I did not know about co-ops when I signed with NetGalley, which are cost-sharing arrangements. That might work out for some.)
• I would spend more time building relationships with indie bookstores and historical fiction communities before launch. Failing to do this has led to some closed doors that I need to work harder to open now.

The biggest lesson I learned wasn’t about publishing fundamentals, ads, or algorithms. It was to keep focused on my goal in a business that can be isolating and brutal on self-confidence. Someone with a different goal may make different choices and be more successful. But once I was clear about what success looked like for me, my path became clearer.

Finally, while I am incredibly thankful for Emmaline’s early financial performance, there will never be anything more rewarding than hearing from readers who stayed up all night because they couldn’t put it down, seeing posts by strangers in online book clubs, or reading reviews by people who were deeply impacted. That’s the goal I sometimes forgot I was chasing, and it is ultimately the measure of success that means the most.