Several years ago, I took an online writing class with seven or eight other students. One of the members of the class was a brand-new writer who’d just finished a draft of her very first novel.

I remember thinking that her novel had a lot going for it. It wasn’t very good yet, but it had promise—a clever idea, interesting characters. I thought, With some work on style and plotting, she could really go somewhere with this.  

About a year later, I ran into that same writer online again, and we shared what we’d been doing in the past few months. I learned with dismay that, soon after our class ended, she’d sent her novel out to several publishers, and after a mere six rejections had decided to self-publish it.

I was surprised at how disappointed I was. Rather than working to create the strongest, most compelling book she could, she’d rushed to get a rough and unrefined manuscript into print. Instead of thinking of rejections as a sign that her novel might need work, she’d shrugged them off and taken the easiest route to publication. My friend had the talent to turn her work into something excellent—if she’d taken the time to learn and practice, to hone and polish. Instead, all she had was a poorly written book that only a few of her friends and acquaintances would ever read.

This, to me, is the greatest advantage of traditional publishing over indie publishing. It challenges writers to do better. It forces us to make sure our work is as clear, effective, and interesting (not to mention as marketable) as it can be. It acts as a gatekeeper, saying, "Stop! This work isn't ready!" 

Don't get me wrong. I love independent publishing. I think it is one of the best things that has happened for writers in the past decade. It has offered numerous excellent authors the opportunity to present their work to the world and take charge of their own careers. But it has a downside: It’s just a bit too easy. Because virtually anything can get published independently, the whole indie enterprise is a huge invitation to publish as quickly as possible. And that presents us all with the temptation to rush work into print before it’s ready.

I’m certainly not claiming that every traditionally published book is brilliant—far from it. What I am saying is that writers do themselves a serious disservice when they use indie publishing to hurry their work into print. Whatever avenue we take to publication, we should commit ourselves to the long, hard, beautiful, horrible process of revision, until we’ve turned our rough-hewn drafts and awkward first attempts into the strongest form they can take. 

What do you think about this aspect of independent publishing? How can indie authors make sure their work is ready before hurrying to get it into print? How can authors act as their own gatekeepers?

Jill Jepson is the author of Writing as a Sacred Path. Sign up for her free weekly strategies for writers here. Get her free e-booklet, Calling Up the Writer Within: A Short Guide to Writing at 50 and Beyond here.