Last month I wrote about autobiographies and confused memories. (Feel free to peruse Fallacies of Memory, in case you missed it. I’ll wait.)

There was a time, not too long, when a publisher would nurture a promising author’s talent. Books would often be released on a writer’s potential, forgiving their yet to be fully realized skills. Publishers, editors, and agents were the first bastion of hope and support for those of us longing to share their words.

Have you ever woke up in the morning overwhelmed with the feeling that you’ve done it all wrong?

Ever hear the one about the architect who killed himself because he forgot to include bathrooms in his design?

The last publisher to reject me before I made the decision to go independent was McAdam-Cage Publishing, a small press out of San Francisco. Most notably, they published Niffenegger's The Time Traveler's Wife.

Great strides have been made in recent years toward the development of self-publishing tools and outlets that enable authors to easily reach an audience.