Behind the Scenes of Publishing My Debut Novel

Late Afternoon, Thursday, April 10, 2025, Miami, Florida

 It’s a gray, gloomy, and somewhat sticky South Florida afternoon. Outside, the skies are shrouded in a blanket of gray-white clouds. For a while, it seemed like there would be light rain showers, but they never came—at least not to Coral Terrace. My room feels as dark as my former writing room in New Hampshire would get around four or five in the afternoon during the depths of a New England winter. If it weren’t for the temperature being a warm 79°F (26°C) and the fact that I’m wearing a Star Wars T-shirt instead of layers, I’d swear I’m in Madison instead of Miami.

Perhaps it’s the darkness of my room or the music I’m currently playing on Amazon Music—Kiri Sings Kern, one of the few albums I splurged on when I lived up North—or maybe I’m just tired. I feel a strange sense of déjà vu. At this time last year, late afternoons on weekdays in early spring felt much like this—quiet, usually filled with writing-related work, combined with a mixture of hope and worries about my first novel, Reunion: Coda.

In April 2024, I dreamed of finishing the novel, ideally in time for a Winter 2024 release to coincide with the December holiday season. Naturally, I had made several optimistic predictions about completing the book by certain dates, even when I lived on the other side of Florida before moving to New Hampshire in December 2023. However, life had more plot twists than my novel, and I often reminded myself that these release forecasts were more aspirational than realistic.

Now, eight days after writing the final lines for Reunion: Coda, I’m no longer fretting about simply finishing the book. Instead, I’m concerned about its Quality Assurance (QA), and fervently hoping that it will be well-received both critically and commercially, at least by the standards of the indie publishing industry. I hope that both friends and strangers will take a chance on a debut novel, finding the story captivating and the characters compelling. There’s always that nagging uncertainty, the author’s insecurity, wondering if the hours poured into crafting each sentence will resonate with readers.

While I can accept minor flaws—after all, even books published by major publishers sometimes miss a few errors despite all the spellchecking, beta reading, and editing—I’m not one of those authors who hastily churns out a poorly-written and lazily-edited “novel” just because they have a computer and an Amazon account. I care deeply about the craft of writing and my reputation. That’s my name on the byline, and I want to be known for my attention to detail and dedication to producing quality work, not as another wannabe Stephen King or Tom Clancy with less talent than an ambitious rock.

Alex Diaz-Granados on the subject of Quality Assurance

I’m feeling a bit tired and more than a little stressed today. This morning, I uploaded a new batch of corrections to Kindle Direct Publishing at around 8 AM, followed by another set after 11 AM. The updates went live on the Kindle edition, but the print edition—what my mentor, Prof. Peter Townsend, fondly calls “the dead trees version”—has different requirements, which means it takes longer to process changes. As a result, I often find myself noticing typos, formatting errors from Kindle Create, or story details that don’t quite match what I intended when I read my Kindle copy.

While I can accept minor flaws—after all, even books published by major publishers sometimes miss a few errors despite all the spellchecking, beta reading, and editing—I’m not one of those authors who hastily churns out a poorly-written and lazily-edited “novel” just because they have a computer and an Amazon account. I care deeply about the craft of writing and my reputation. That’s my name on the byline, and I want to be known for my attention to detail and dedication to producing quality work, not as another wannabe Stephen King or Tom Clancy with less talent than an ambitious rock.

Because I usually receive emails from Kindle Direct Publishing about the status of the “dead trees” editions (hardback and softcover) late at night, I’ve been staying up later than usual during the final phase of Reunion: Coda’s publication. My notifications declaring “your book is published and live in KDP” typically arrive in my inbox between 11:30 PM and 1 AM, so there’s a good chance that I might not be able to update the book until early tomorrow. That doesn’t mean you can’t order a copy of Reunion: Coda and get a decent version of the novel now; the penultimate batch of corrections only overlooked a few Kindle Create-related formatting issues in the subheads, and one questionable passage that I’m sure could be forgiven. But I hate flaws – especially in my writing – with a passion, so I’m waiting for that last update to finally let go of the novel once and for all.

However, there’s an undeniable charm in this part of the process. The anticipation of that final approval, the late-night vigil waiting for the email notification, and the quiet excitement of knowing my work will soon be in the hands of readers are all part of the journey that makes writing so rewarding. Each late night and each email received are steps toward sharing my story with the world. Despite the stress and the imperfections, I hold onto the hope that Reunion: Coda will resonate with readers, bringing them into the world I’ve created and leaving a lasting impression. The dedication to every detail is a testament to my love for storytelling, and I eagerly await the moment when my debut novel is finally complete and ready to be embraced by both friends and strangers alike.