Here’s an observation: it sometimes feels as though smaller independents are the research and development departments for the big publishers, where literary fiction is concerned. We find great writers, nurture them, wipe their brows, polish their work and buff it until it shines. Then we send them out, readers love the books and they get shortlisted and win major literary prizes.

Then the big money imprints swoop in; whisking them away to put them in a sparkly marketing jacket and present them in their new package to the world. A few recent examples: A Girl is a Half-Formed Thing by Eimear McBride, originally published by Galley Beggar – subsequently taken up by Faber and Faber. Swimming Home by Deborah Levy, published by And Other Stories – and now by Penguin.

I have been told on numerous occasions: 'But you’re not a London publisher,' as if geography helps find cracking stories

Why are independent publishers managing to get more of their authors’ work on to prize shortlists and win more awards than the bigger firms? Two of the last three Man Booker winners were published by independents. How could that be?

The Loney by Andrew Michael Hurley review – a gothic masterpiece Read more

Well, we read unsolicited manuscripts. We read more stories. Big publishers only use agents, who have their own economic imperative, and they miss out on a host of brilliant books every day, every month, every year. Like John Murray, part of Hachette, which called Andrew Michael Hurley’s The Loney “the modern classic that we all missed” when it was shortlisted for the Costa first novel prize this year. They plucked it from Yorkshire publisher Tartarus, secured it a film deal, and it became one of the best-reviewed debuts this year.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Andrew Michael Hurley, author of The Loney. Photograph: Alamy

Big publishing has tried to monetise creativity, kneeling at the altar of the pie chart and Venn diagram. And for new literary fiction it isn’t working.

How many millions have been spent and will be lost on orange-headed celebrity books this Christmas?

I have been told on numerous occasions by agents and editors: “But Kevin, you’re not a London publisher,” as if geography has anything to do with finding cracking stories. This chiding does give you an insight into another problem for big publishing: the issue of “unpaid internships”, class, and a narrowing of the social backgrounds of people entering publishing, their limited life experiences, reading tastes and how this influences their acquisitions. They are missing out on millions and millions of readers because of a business model that isn’t really working.

All publishers know their economic sustainability lies in the backlist. Backlist sales are essential and if the big imprints are not investing enough in new talent, where will their literary backlist be in the future? Do they care?

Mainstream publishing has become risk-averse and sold on the idea that committees of sales and marketing gurus, the most powerful people in publishing these days, know what will sell. Do they really? How many millions have been spent, and will be lost, this Christmas on orange-headed celebrity books whose pie charts and spreadsheets appeared to augur well but will be returned wholesale in January? Ask any bookseller. A Christmas punt gone wrong. Again. What’s the definition of madness?

Why not spend that £250,000 advance on 25 new writers? I bet they will have greater longevity of sales than the orange-headed celebrity.

Portico prize winner Benjamin Myers: 'Why bother chasing the big publishers?' Read more

“Who would be interested in a working-class character from a small northern town?” said one editor from one of the big publishers to Benjamin Myers on reading his then-unpublished novel Pig Iron, as if class and geography limit people’s enjoyment of great books. We at Bluemoose published it and it went on to win the inaugural Gordon Burn prize. Benjamin’s second book Beastings, also with Bluemoose, won the Portico prize. He has also won the Society of Authors Tom Gallon prize and been shortlisted for the Jerwood Fiction prize and numerous other literary awards. These two titles will continue to bolster our backlist for years to come.

Thankfully, Benjamin has decided to stay with Bluemoose; he’s not interested in the big firms’ brouhaha, because he knows how passionate we are about his work and the books to come. Plus, he doesn’t like sparkly marketing jackets.

Kevin Duffy is the co-founder of independent publisher Bluemoose Books.