Should we really wait for someone else to define our professional worth? Or accept that a small group of decision-makers within companies and institutions should dictate the trajectory of our working lives? Across the labour market, highly capable individuals find themselves discouraged, not by a lack of competence, but by a lack of opportunities. Talent is filtered, delayed, or ignored altogether. Writing—and publishing in particular—serves as a revealing case study of this broader dynamic, where opportunity is often less a matter of ability than of access.
For budding writers, the decisive question is not whether talent will be recognised, but whether action will be taken in the absence of recognition. Passion that relies on permission is fragile; passion that creates its own space is resilient. When no obvious path exists, the only viable option is to design one. In this sense, writing is no longer just an artistic pursuit—it is an entrepreneurial endeavour.
No one creates opportunities by waiting. Indeed, opportunities are rarely handed out; they are engineered. For budding writers, the crucial question is not whether someone will eventually recognise their talent, but whether they are willing to act before that recognition arrives—if it ever does. Those who move forward, understand a fundamental truth: if no clear path exists, one must be created. Writing is no exception. In an industry where visibility is scarce and competition relentless, the ability to generate one’s own opportunities has become as essential as talent itself.
For decades, publishing was anything but an attainable goal. Irrespective of how good a writer is, success depended on being selected by a small group of decision-makers whose priorities rarely aligned with originality or risk. As a result, countless voices faded away—not because they lacked ability, but because they waited for an invitation that never arrived.
The advent of self-publishing has at least improved everyone’s chances, if not entirely proved the point that opportunity does not need to be granted in order to exist. What was once perceived as a secondary route has rapidly become the most sought-after option for writers who understand the value of autonomy. Today, self-publishing is often touted as the next best thing: a straightforward way to transform creative output into something tangible, visible, and marketable.
However, creating opportunities also means accepting responsibility. Self-publishing is not merely about bypassing editors; it requires a realistic understanding of how the market operates. Bear in mind that it is a product that must be sold. There is a widespread assumption that just by releasing a novel into the world, it will be read. Regrettably, this is not the case. Visibility must be built, not assumed. Writers must actively build up readership, engage with audiences, and demonstrate at least a passable technological awareness when it comes to choosing a platform to launch their work.
Additionally, this process demands emotional maturity. Rejection does not disappear—it simply changes form. Sales fluctuate, reviews disappoint, and progress is often slow. Those who approach self-publishing while remaining emotionally detached from instant validation are far more likely to persist. Rather than becoming discouraged, they iterate, adapt, and improve, treating each release as part of a long-term strategy rather than a final verdict on their talent.
One of the clearest signs of how the landscape is shifting beyond traditional gatekeepers is the rise of initiatives that intentionally dismantle the old models of validation. For example, a recent competition launched in partnership with a major publisher allows readers — not editorial committees — to vote manuscripts into a shortlist, giving writers a direct route to discoverability and support. This reader-led model not only offers substantial financial backing but also challenges the conventional idea that only industry insiders can judge literary merit
This trend reflects a broader democratization of the industry, one that critics and advocates alike cannot ignore. Debates around the explosion of self-published titles underscore the fact that more books are being produced than ever before, with digital platforms enabling previously overlooked voices — from niche genres to underrepresented communities — to connect with real audiences on their own terms. While some view this proliferation skeptically, others see it as proof that authors no longer need permission from elites to be heard.
Moreover, the successes of independent authors illustrate that self-publishing can be a pathway to broader recognition. Stories of self-published works rapidly attracting agents and seven-figure deals — propelled by organic engagement and savvy use of digital platforms — show how creators can make opportunity where none seemed to exist. These examples demonstrate that self-publishing isn’t just a fallback; it can become a launchpad into the wider literary world
Ultimately, self-publishing is not about rejecting traditional structures, but about refusing passivity. In a world where doors repeatedly close on talent, where established routes no longer function as promised, this cannot justify inertia. On the contrary, it should provoke movement. When no door opens, create one. Push until something shifts.
Because even if every door appears closed, making a move—your move—may be enough to force one open. And if it does, it will not be someone else’s door, but yours. The one you deserve.
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@Yolanda Muriel 
yolandamuriel.com 