"I didn't know you had gotten a 'real' publisher."

While talking with a friend recently, I shared that my novel would soon be published. She replied that she remembered I was writing a book, but didn’t know I had found a "real" publisher. 

A real publisher? What does that even mean? Did she think I was going to have my manuscript copied at Staples and distributed in three ring binders? 

Of course, I know exactly what she meant. She was making a clear distinction between authors that self-publish their work, independent authors, and those that take the traditional path and use an agent. Implicitly, she considers independent authors as not worthy (que Wayne’s World) and those with agents as the ones who write "real" novels. 

Can you tell her comment got under my skin? 

I am an independent author. Here's my experience with getting my novel printed and distributed. Ultimately, it's about who has the power over my novel. 

When I felt my novel was “finished,” I searched for an agent. I sent out 10-12 inquires; not many, I know. Each agency has different requirements, and I did my best to follow their rules. They were quite clear that if I did not hear from them in a month, or six weeks, or three months, I should consider their silence as a “no.” 

Not even the courtesy of a reply? A form email? At the very least it’s a poor business practice. But to not send an acknowledgment of some type is also rude. And arrogant.

So, I decided to take charge of my own publishing. I hired a professional editor. I found a publisher. I am doing my own marketing. I am excited about sharing my novel. I only hope folks will enjoy it half as much as I loved writing it. 

We live in an egalitarian world. There are wonderful resources readily available to produce and promote creative work. The gatekeepers are no longer so powerful. I am not going to let the traditional publishing industry determine whether someone reads my book. I am not giving them that power. 

The American Battlefield Trust recently announced it had acquired additional acreage where the Battle of Bentonville (North Carolina) was fought in the spring of 1865. This was the last major battle of the Civil War; one that has interesting connections to St. Augustine. 

William Hardee graduated from West Point and soon found himself in Florida fighting the Seminole Indians. He came down with a serious illness and was sent to St. Augustine where he ultimately married a St. Augustine woman, Elizabeth Dummett, in 1840. Their marriage produced several children including a son, Willie. When Elizabeth died, Hardee left his children in the care of his sister, Anna, a spinster, and life-long resident of St. Augustine. Both the Dummett and Hardee families owned and lived in what today is known as the St. Francis Inn. 

At the outbreak of the Civil War, Willie was some fourteen years old. He spent time in boarding schools, common for boys of his generation and social class. Yet at some point, he left his school and enlisted in the Confederate Army. 

His father, William, resigned his commission in the U.S. Army and soon obtained the rank of general in the Confederate Army. Willie served on his father’s staff during the Battle of Atlanta, but ultimately found himself in Terry’s Texas Rangers as a cavalry trooper. By all accounts the boy was ardent to fight.

During the battle of Bentonville, General Hardee was called upon to save the Confederates’ left flank, which was being pressured by United States troops. Terry’s Rangers, his son’s unit, was under his direct command. The story goes that as General Hardee organized his soldiers in preparation for attack, he saw young Willie in the front line of battle astride his horse. General Hardee, who would personally lead the charge, caught Willie’s eye and both touched their hats to acknowledge one another prior to the charge. The attack successfully repulsed the enemy troops and secured the Confederate flank. But Willie suffered mortal wounds in the action that led to his death a few days later. He died in the very twilight of the war, a boy no more than 18 years old. 

Willie’s death illustrates an important fact of the Civil War. Scholars have recently estimated that 10% of the soldiers in the war were underage. These boys enlisted for a myriad of reasons, some with their parents’ consent. And others, such as Willie, without their parents’ blessing. 

How Willie’s passing was described and memorialized is worth noting. The boy’s death appears to epitomize virtues Southerners and other nineteenth century Americans valued. Dying in a triumphant cavalry charge lead by your father, the general, after a dignified, yet touching goodbye, captures all the elements of a “good death” as understood at the time. Perhaps this event occurred exactly as it has come down to us over the last 160 years. But we always need to consider that the rough edges of this experience, whatever they may have been, may have been rubbed away in the collective Southern memory of the battle and the war.

Anna Dummett, Willie’s aunt who raised him for several years as a young child, was a leader in post-Civil War work in St. Augustine. Her goal was to remember the war in a way that made sense and comforted defeated Southerners. She was instrumental in erecting the Confederate Memorial in St. Augustine’s Plaza which stood in the heart of the city for decades. The memorial has since been located to Trout Creek Park, some 19 miles outside the city. We can only assume his aunt made sure Willie’s name was inscribed among St. Augustine’s Confederate war dead.  Posted November 22, 2023