On Book Awards for Indie Authors

I published my debut work, The Wishing Well, a few days before Halloween 2025. This being my first venture into self-publishing, I was inexperienced in preparing for such a feat. To be honest, we rushed the publication when I was convinced by friends and family that the publishing date should be moved up a couple of months to debut during the “spooky season” (October). And so it was, by a combination of rushed publication and inexperience, that The Wishing Well published without an advanced review campaign.

In the weeks that followed, I researched marketing advice (which should have been done prior to publication). More specifically, I was researching ways to legitimately gain reviews. I had spent an absurd amount of time and money messaging book reviewers from blogs, YouTube, and social media, and sending physical copies of the book to the very, very few that responded. And even fewer actually posted reviews. What a drag.

Ads generated impressions, but few clicks, and hardly a book sold. Things seemed grim.

In my research, I came across some advice regarding professional reviews and awards. I was skeptical but gave it more attention than I would have in the wake of all my unsuccessful measures. The idea was that awards and professional reviews give potential readers the legitimacy a debut indie author would not otherwise have. So, I scoured writing forums and the Alliance of Independent Authors (ALLi) and other spaces to determine the safest and most appropriate awards and reviewers for my work.

And in all my vetting, I decided upon two awards: The Wishing Shelf Book Awards, which guaranteed reviews and feedback from the judges; and the International Latino Book Awards (ILBA), which offered me the opportunity to join the International Society of Latino Authors (ISLA) and which seemed the most fitting for my being the son of a Mexican immigrant.

The Wishing Shelf Book Awards

The Wishing Shelf Book Awards guarantees 15 readers per book, and their mission statement is an honorable one. They support a school for blind children, sponsor a dog for the blind, and even promote literacy by involving school children in the review of the children’s literature entered for consideration. And, speaking from personal experience, their team is probably the most attentive to email you will ever see. Promptness is their very essence.

I’ll be brief with this process (you can click the link above to scope it out for yourself). I submitted my book in December, and got my feedback at the end of August. The feedback came in two attachments: thoughts and grading from the 15 readers who judged the print formats; and that of the 8 listeners who judged the audiobook. They listed 10-point ratings on editing, writing style, content, and a 5-point rating on the book’s cover. They then provided results of a kind of poll, in which it was noted the number of readers who would read another book by me, or whether they felt the stories were easy to follow, or what they thought my strongest skills were.

Finally, they gave a list of individual thoughts from each judge, identifying them only by sex and age. This was very helpful, especially for a short story collection, as it gave me the opportunity to see what demographics preferred which stories (and potentially why). By far, “The Creeper” was the favorite among the judges, followed by “The Lake.” “The Creeper,” which focuses on a woman’s walk home late at night, was mentioned by each of the female judges, while the male judges seemed to prefer “The Lake,” in which a group of friends is stranded on a boat in a remote mountain lake.

The cover wasn’t so well-received. Well, you learn. And it was my team’s best (and first) shot. No regrets.

Overall, the book received a 4 out of 5 stars, and that’s pretty great considering it’s the consensus of so many pro readers.

The Wishing Shelf will post the results on Goodreads and BookBub, at the author’s request, which I agreed to. It was a pleasure to get this kind of feedback while also supporting a good cause. I recommend the Wishing Shelf with hearty enthusiasm.

This was the type of outcome I was expecting from the ILBA. Not in the running, but given the information I need for self-betterment.

The International Latino Book Awards

So, a couple of weeks ago, I received an email from Empowering Latino Futures (ELF). There were two attachments to review: the draft press release of the honorable mentions and the draft press release of the finalists.

Naturally, I first opened the honorable mentions list. If my work made any impact at all on the judges, surely it would have done no better than honorable mention. Thus my expectations were set and thus I first reviewed the list of honorable mentions. I scanned every category of adult fiction and found not my name. Well, such was life. I should not have held such high expectations for a debut collection of shorts, my inaugural work. But, I would and could do better with my debut novel. The judges would see then what stories I could tell and I could then justify my efforts and expenditures in setting forth on this journey of authorship. So, let us see, then, what kinds of literature they value so highly, these judges of the ILBA, that I may read and learn from my more successful peers.

I opened the finalists attachment. And an unfathomable thing happened as I reviewed the categories of adult fiction. There was the name of my book and there beside it my name. And there again were the names of my book and myself. Not once but twice was I listed as a finalist. In two categories was my work determined “best:” Short Story Collection in English; and Audiobook.

And it was further explained that a finalist is an award-winner. They just have not announced which award each title is receiving (gold, silver, or bronze). That suspense will persist through the evening of October 3rd.

But there it was. I was an award-winning author—I, the unknown, the unregarded. Henceforth, forever will I be an award-winning author. I could not believe it, but there it was, on digital paper, in a draft press release. And what was placed alongside this work of mine? A Simon & Schuster anthology edited by Cynthia Pelayo and a Harper Audio (HarperCollins) audiobook. So, a nobody author with neither following nor resources, was standing shoulder-to-shoulder with two of the big five. Can you feel it? Can you feel the unbelievability of it? It was daunting.

On the instant, I felt my work was undeserving. Gosh, an honorable mention would have been cause for joy, but this? I was overwhelmed by the feeling of luck. Yes, luck, and not merit, for how otherwise in such a vast world could a work written almost solely by my inexperienced hands (I must credit my beta readers for their suggestions) be considered alongside works produced by the most skilled teams in the industry? My heart. Hundreds of anonymous judges and my work ended up before the eyes and ears of those who not just committed their time to consuming the material but finding it worthy enough to bestow upon me this honor. How their anonymity saved them, that I would know their names and shower them with unending gratitude.

Heretofore I was a fiction writer, and henceforth shall I forever be an award-winning author. This I state again, so unbelievable is it.

When I published that book I had no idea what the future would bring. With every passing day, as sales only trickled, as Kindle reports displayed only goose eggs, as paid ads bought only impressions, as Audible codes brought no listens, I felt more and more a self-deluded imposter.

I am grateful, don’t misinterpret what I’m so poorly articulating. It’s merely that by nature of it being my inaugural work, I feel it is undeserving.

And I have consistently been committing the writer’s sin of not writing of late. So I feel even more a fraud. But how can I so easily return to writing? To be listed among these professional works has set upon me an expectation I do not think I can match in current and future efforts. I am challenged to ensure my forthcoming debut novel is written to the most absolute of my heart's capacity, and thus it gives my fingers pause. I say again I will now forever be an award-winning author, and with weeks of so little output and of such poor quality, I feel all the more a pretender.

Well, I’ll carry on. I’m sure I will. I still harbor in this writer’s heart of mine tremendous excitement to share with the world this next story. It just may take a little more time than I ever considered.