Ethics, Capitalism, and Indie Books

I may be a dreamer – I write and enjoy speculative fiction, after all – but I am a practical dreamer. Awkward at times though this may be, my pragmatic streak means that I'm near-constantly figuring out ways to make my dreams reality. I pick them apart. I quantify them. I examine all angles, conduct thought experiments on all the end results I can think of. Sometimes, yes, it sucks the joy out of the process of creating, and I need to reel myself back in.

It has, however, served me well with pressing forward with self-publishing, I think. (You should see the number of spreadsheets I have.)

If you're an indie author, you are inevitably in conversation with capitalism. Whether that's because you chose this route to make more money than you would through a trad-pub deal, or because your work didn't fit a house's idea of their next best-seller, you're figuring out how to place yourself within that landscape. You're also, to be blunt, figuring out how to get the best bang for your buck in all areas: printing and royalties, marketing, taxes, administrative upkeep, perhaps a little treat now and then to keep the lights on upstairs. Only the very naive go into the writing business thinking they will be wealthy immediately.

If you're a reader, as a type of consumer you are also inevitably in conversation with capitalism. While libraries are beautiful and crucial establishments, it's difficult for many of us to escape the urge to own. I don't think I've ever met someone who enjoys reading and doesn't feel some compulsion to have their own library (physical or digital) of whatever size. Likely, you've debated with yourself at one time or another where to acquire your next read, whether it's because you exclusively hunt for free or heavily-discounted books, have a niche interest that isn't carried by a chain, or want a particular format. 

We, both of us, are faced practically on the daily with a choice: between low costs and investments, between convenience and personal connection, speed and quality, blissful ignorance and despair/anger-provoking awareness. This choice seems almost inevitably to come down to money.

With the possible exception of Valentine's Day, there are few Western holidays more commercialized than Christmas, and holiday promotions seem to start earlier and earlier every year. Having done the bulk of my number-crunching prior to Black Friday – and part of my launch strategy deliberately being to take off after the holiday crunch – I've been placed perfectly to see price hikes, lengthening of shipping estimates, and so on. 

There's more to this than your standard cynical echo chamber, though. I've always been conscious of where my money goes – it was part of my upbringing, as the only child of a single mother for much of it. Despite certain experiences in my life making me sentimental toward material belongings, I've also always been somewhat anti-capitalist, and automatically scornful of unethical business practices. As I settle into my indie author community and figure out how to reach my readers, I feel even more keenly the sheer overwhelming nature of the holiday spending rush. 

"But Tamara, you're trying to run a business, at the end of the day: surely you want to make a profit? Isn't it hypocritical to call yourself anti-capitalist?"

I don't believe so, no! While it's arguable that there is no ethical consumption under capitalism, especially given the increase of monopolies (obvious or not), we as consumers are not totally devoid of choice or power. Likewise, the choices I have to make right now (such as having Amazon as one of my retailers) to establish myself don't reflect my preferences or end goals. At the very minimum, if there is absolutely nothing else you or I can do to avoid our participation in capitalism, I believe there is what I'm going to call "the responsibility to know". You cannot make better choices if you don't have information and, given the dubious, negligent, or outright heinous practices of some companies, I strongly believe ignorance should not be an option.

Before you bristle, let me emphasize: I am not saying you are a bad person if you buy from Amazon, or use Spotify, or your favorite snack is a Nestlé product. I'd be throwing stones in a glass house, for one, and I would never begrudge someone who meets their needs where they're cheapest – we're all poor nowadays, effectively. What I am saying is that where possible, you should choose where your money goes – because money talks. You should choose where your attention rests – because clicks, subscriptions, scroll patterns (read: attention and time) talk. Where possible, you should choose to balance and offset if you cannot forgo or replace entirely. 

And yes, small efforts matter. Speaking of "the responsibility to know", here's an example, in the form of the cost to print one copy* of my book across four major print-on-demand platforms.

*One perfect-bound 6x9" paperback at 630 black and white interior pages on 50lb cream paper, with a matte-finish color cover, as of mid-November 2025.
**Draft2Digital and IngramSpark are aggregators and printers, not retailers; they distribute book titles to retailers (and in the case of Ingram, libraries). D2D's estimates represent a list price across all of the retailers it serves, whereas Ingram's estimates are for its role as a printer only.

Looking at the above, I hope it's easy to see why Amazon KDP has a hold on indie authors. Naturally, it follows that it's worthwhile to buy directly from authors wherever possible, because that's how we will receive the maximum amount of profit (as well as being able to add a personal touch that you wouldn't otherwise get!). While I will always be happy for folks to be buying and/or reading and talking about my books no matter the source, I felt it important to shed a little light on authors' decision-making.

"Geez, Tamara, this is a bit grim!"

It doesn't have to be! They're simply facts, shared in the belief that it makes both our lives a little easier. Personally, I love learning about how I can actually make a positive impact on a person or situation. There's so much that feels insurmountable lately that any time there's a chance to get a leg up or find a workaround, I'm overjoyed! It's fantastic that we have all the options we do, as well as the ability to connect in ways we couldn't before. So yes, as the adage goes, knowledge is power! Whether that knowledge means you now know where to better-score a deal on your sister's present this year, or simply makes you a little more curious, embrace it. 

Fight the good fight, and look out for one another!