It's wonderful to see the Guardian taking such an active interest in the self-publishing landscape. I was as frustrated as anyone to see such a splatterball response to Alison Flood's piece last week, because it asks such an important question when it comes to self-publishing: where on earth (well, on Google/Amazon anyway) do I start?

My first reaction was excitement, my second a dismissive snort at many of the comments. Hesitation followed, as I realised that if there were a self-publishing Archimedean point, it was well and truly rooted in quicksand. My overall reaction, however, was that I was pretty sure where not to start.

If we're talking "gems" or "masterpieces", we're not looking for a decent self-published book but one that does something traditional publishing doesn't. So don't start with booksellers offering self-published books that mimic regular books. And please, Alison, don't start with the Amazon charts, which are stuffed with examples of passably good self-publishing – but few "gems".

One of the sad things about self-publishing is that authors often strive to do what publishers do, from editing to cover design. Of course, it's understandable as a business decision, and I have nothing but admiration for the writers who do it. But when the media plays follow-the-news rather than make-the-news, as though what's good for entrepreneurial writers is good for literature as a whole, we get a reinforced message that points writers at a fixed model and robs readers of a wider choice. So, one place you won't find self-published gems is on the review sites purporting to filter the good from the bad by applying the criteria of professionalism.

The world of self-publishing provides a great home for the "midlist". These are authors whose books are unlikely to hit pay dirt and who are struggling to find a publisher with the funds to back them. They find themselves squeezed out of a market that needs the possibility of a big payoff (though that has changed in the past couple of years with the resurgence of small presses). Sites such as Indie e-book review and Self-publishing Review are good places to start looking in this regard.

What self-publishing does well is the new, the playful, the awkward, the uncategorisable – the glorious failure (or string of them). Self-publishing writers can take risks without worrying about how many times they fail. They are unconstrained by the standards of the traditional publishing industry. As a reader, I believe life is too short: if I want a great thriller, there's enough Mark Billingham and Tami Hoag to work through. If I choose to read self-published books it's because I want something different.

Which brings me back to where to start. I'm a great fan of the click-and-see approach. I begin at one of my favourite base camps, a site steeped in the kind of writing I love, such as htmlgiant or 3:am or Sabotage Reviews (the last styled as a guide to the ephemeral, which makes it fabulous for chapbooks, zines and true one-offs). From here I click on an author's blog, and keep clicking on sidebar links until I end up goodness knows where, discovering on the way such self-publishing treasure troves as Paraphilia Magazine, Sam Pink's blog and Toronto Poetry Vendors.

An excellent introduction to the breadth of self-publishing authors can be found in ezines and websites that collate short works. As well as htmlgiant and 3:am, there are the likes of Metazen, Housefire and the very best of the author platform sites Fictionaut, each featuring hundreds of authors creating experimental and often incredibly beautiful work. A good idea is to start there and branch out one click at a time.

A lot of writers who publish their own work online engage with digital technology itself, creating new forms of literature that capture the rhythms and cadences of web-based communication, and ask questions about online identity and community. These writers use the internet as a tool for disseminating their work and also as the forum in which every part of their relationship with their readers takes place. Nowhere is this more interestingly done than in Alt Lit, a movement that adopts the idiom of chatroom speak while supporting a community of writers. Alt Lit is already beginning to seep into the mainstream; Tao Lin, the movement's high priest, has sold his new book to Vintage, and his breakthrough, Shoplifting from American Apparel, has just been filmed. But there is a whole seam of wonderfully put together Alt Lit ebooks out there, as well as standalone pieces. Great places to start looking are Alt Lit Library and Beach Sloth's blog.

In short, the question "Where do I start?" is easy. If you go where you usually do in your search for good books, you will find the kind of books you usually find. But what a waste when self-publishing has so much to offer, and so many alternative places to find it.