The Myth of “Overnight Success” in Indie Publishing

(What slow visibility really looks like)

I’ll admit, when I first started writing my books, I thought I was going to be a famous author almost instantly. I saw many others creating similar work but finding greater success. I didn’t know how to do it myself, and I worried I wasn’t good enough to make it in the industry I loved.

Boy, was I wrong.

Being an author is slow business, especially for those publishing on their own. There are so many moving parts behind a single book that overnight success would feel like a miracle. So why is it unrealistic to expect it?

Because there’s no such thing.

While some people appear to rise quickly, there is no magic formula that creates a successful life in a day. What we don’t see behind rapid success is the work — and the countless rejections — that came first. Growth is slow. It’s meant to be.

Imagine being pushed off a cliff and growing wings halfway down. Even if they appeared, would you know how to use them? You’d panic. You’d flail. You might never learn to steer before you hit the ground.

Real flight isn’t learned in freefall. It’s practiced in small, steady lifts — awkward at first, then stronger with time. That’s why slow growth matters. It gives you space to build the muscles, balance, and confidence you’ll need when you finally rise.

I know what you might be thinking. Slow sounds boring, uneventful, difficult — not worth it if you aren’t making money.

News flash: it is. Every author or business owner will tell you that most of the journey isn’t glamorous. You hear “no” more than “yes.” People turn you down. Some criticize your work. You keep going until you find your people. I know because I’ve been there.

In 2024, I hadn’t even sold 1,000 books. I was discouraged and considered quitting to focus solely on editing. I don’t hate editing, but it isn’t where my passion lives. I felt burnt out and invisible.

Then something small shifted.

A friend told me about a gift shop connected to a haunted house attraction in Ohio that accepted consignment from authors with spooky books. I reached out. The owner agreed to take a copy.

That book still hasn’t sold there.

But that wasn’t the point.

The point was that someone said yes.

If one shop was willing to take a chance on me, maybe others would too. So I started researching indie bookstores across the country. I sent emails, filled out forms, made calls — anything to get my books visible beyond my small circle online.

Most responses were rejections. Some stores only worked with local authors. Others didn’t accept indie titles at all.

I kept going.

After about a month of consistent outreach, a few stores agreed to stock my books. It wasn’t a breakthrough yet, but it was movement. Months passed before I sold a single copy in a physical store. Nearly a year later, I received an email from a small bookstore in Las Vegas: my books had sold out. They needed more — ten copies this time. Soon after, another store requested fifteen copies of two titles in the series.

Slowly, the work began to show results.

Visibility, I realized, isn’t accidental. It’s intentional. And physical placement was only part of it. What about my online presence?

That’s when my second shift happened. The issue wasn’t just how much I was posting — it was the quality of what I was doing. A friend suggested events like Stuff Your Kindle promotions and podcast interviews. I’m naturally shy, and speaking to strangers makes me uncomfortable. But growth rarely happens inside comfort zones.

So, I said yes anyway.

Remember 2024, when my sales were barely moving? They began to climb. I went from just over 1,000 books sold to more than 5,000 within a relatively short time. Podcasts, promotional events, and even my mom handing out business cards wherever she went helped expand my reach. Month by month, the numbers improved until I received my first royalty paycheck of nearly $200.

It may not sound like much, but to me, it was proof.

My website traffic increased. My newsletter grew. Nothing exploded overnight—but it was steady, measurable progress. I was finally able to define success by my own standards.

This is just the beginning of real growth.

I’ve opened doors because I chose to create visibility instead of waiting for it. I haven’t done a formal book signing yet, though I’ve been invited if I ever travel. Most of my growth has happened online because I refused to let my books sit quietly in the dark.

My story isn’t unique. Most indie authors are building quietly—one bookstore, one event, one reader at a time. What looks like sudden success is usually years of invisible effort.

Now let me ask you:

How are you creating visibility for your work?
What risks are you willing to take?
Will you step outside your comfort zone and focus on quality over quantity?

The only person who can answer that is you.

Step to the edge, test your wings, then jump—not because success will appear mid-fall, but because you’ve built the strength to fly.

Nothing happens unless you move. Nothing grows unless you take risks. Slow growth may not be glamorous, but it teaches you how to soar when the moment finally comes.

Abby Woodland is a world-published, multi-genre author and neurodivergent single mom. Driven by a love of storytelling, she crafts stories that are twisted, deep, and based on life experiences. Outside her writing life, she supports fellow authors and invests in her local community. When she finds a quiet moment, she enjoys playing guitar and piano, and spending time with her daughter.