Why I Fired My Publicist and Went Full Indie
- August Quinn
- Sep 19, 2025
- 2 min read
There comes a point in every writer’s life when you realize you’re paying someone way too much money to water down your chaos. For me, that realization came on September 18, 2025. That’s the day I hit the big red button, fired my publicist, and declared my full indie era.
And no, it wasn’t dramatic. (Okay, it was dramatic. I sent the email with a subject line that read “Unsubscribe.”)
Here’s the truth:
Being “handled” by a publicist felt like wearing a sweater two sizes too small—sure, technically it fit, but I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t stretch, and it made me look like someone I wasn’t. My words got clipped. My humor got “toned down.” My brand got “polished.” And don’t even get me started on the press releases—they sounded like ChatGPT’s evil twin had been locked in a beige office all weekend.
Why Indie? Because I Like Control (and Glitter)
When you go indie, you stop asking permission.
Nobody cuts your chapters in half.
Nobody tells you your cover is “too pink” or your logo “too much.”
Nobody’s clipping your voice because it doesn’t fit the marketing formula of the month.
Instead, you get:
Your book, your way.
Covers that slap (even if they’re unhinged).
The freedom to build your own chaos factory without apology.
Also, let’s be real—my dogs deserve their own publishing credits, and I don’t need a publicist side-eyeing me for that.
What Changes Now?
As of 9/18/2025, everything with my name on it—this site, my socials, even the shiny new AQ pawprint logo—is fully under my control. If you love it, thank you. If you hate it, well, at least you can’t blame a committee.
This doesn’t mean things will be perfect. It means they’ll be mine. When I blow up, it’ll be because you all chose chaos with me. And when I flop? Well, at least I won’t have to Venmo my publicist for it.
The Indie Glow-Up
So why did I choose indie? Because I want my readers to get me—unfiltered, uncut, maybe oversharing, definitely oversnacking. Because midlife reinvention doesn’t mean handing over the mic—it means turning it up and adding a disco ball.
This is the start of my indie era. And spoiler alert: it’s going to be loud, messy, hilarious, and fully mine.
