I am an author of five independently published novels and one traditionally published novel with a second on the way. I learn lessons the hard way but the best way—through experience. One unexpected outcome of my traditional publishing journey was how closely writing feels like romance and publishing like marriage.

Let me explain.

For fiction writers who love what they do, writing is a thrill. The creativity that pours out onto the page, the world-building, the dynamic characters who spring to life. Writing is as much as getting lost in a world as reading. In early drafts, grammar and technique be damned. The writer is in charge. At times, the creative flow dries up, and when that happens, the writer has the right to stop.

Yes, writing isn’t exactly romance, but it provides a similar rush of endorphins and loss of time when you’re in the moment. The writer is in that early stage of infatuation. The more the writer works on their manuscript, the more the vision of the book becomes a reality. It goes from sneaking glances and blushes in an early relationship to full-on dating.

Before I discuss publishing, though, a word on marriage.

Marriage gets a bad rap. Most of the romance is gone, true, but replaced with a life partner, a better-than friend. In a marriage, one of the partners shouldn’t intend to walk away at the start. Marriage is a commitment, a special bond, between people.

With traditional publishing, publishing works like a marriage. Now, grammar and technique make a huge difference. The writer has signed away some of their rights to the work. Their story is now a product that must be sold. The author is no longer in charge. Sure, the writer can still walk away but not as cleanly. Similar to marriage, if a writer walks away from an upstanding publisher, it will follow them across the industry.

Independent and traditional publishing both involve work, much like a marriage. It’s different types of work.

Independent publishing is putting everything together, presenting a package to the world, and promoting that package—all on your own. No, there’s not two people, but two sides of the same person: the writer and the publisher. The one person with two halves must work together to be successful.

Traditional publishing is less packaging, but no less promoting. The writer is still heavily involved in the publishing aspect—editing, conferring with others, and upholding deadlines on contractual commitments. If a writer thinks after they’ve signed a contract they can sit back and relax (even with the big publishers), they’re mistaken.

In writing, the writer is mostly doing it for themselves. Can I write this book? Where will this novel take me? Will I be satisfied when I finish? Notice the pronoun. Sure, at this stage, the question of “Will you read it?” or “I hope they will read it” will come up, but to construct it, you must please yourself to do your best work.

In publishing you’re working for the reader. You’ve finished a book, the narrative journey is over, you are satisfied (you must be if you’re trying to publish it). Now the questions are different. Will most readers understand what is being conveyed? Will readers like this character? Will readers buy or read it?

Both writing and publishing are forms of love. A writer may not love one or the other, but they are two halves of every author’s world.

An aside: The potential writer may ask how could you not like writing if it’s like romancing? Let me tell you. If the writer is contractually obligated to write a series of books and they’re out of ideas before the end, writing is torture. “Just get this @#$ing book to publication!”

A writer may also live in both worlds and often does. The author is usually writing during the publishing phase. This is where the analogy falls to pieces. Writing while you’re publishing is not cheating on your partner. If your publisher thinks your work is good, it’s encouraged!

Enjoy your writing, and your publishing, journey.