Reflections a decade after debuting

11 things I've learned about publishing since my first book released

Sunday, April 16th, marked ten years since my debut novel hit shelves

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. This has been difficult for me to wrap my head around. In part, because time is fickle and also because my brain forever thinks 1999 was five years ago. By this logic, 2013 was… last week?

The publishing industry today is almost unrecognizable from the landscape I debuted into in 2013. Back then, group book tours were still a thing publishers arranged, blogs ruled the marketing world, booktube was only just starting to be influential, TikTok didn’t exist, sub boxes were a thing of the future, and the New York Times list looked completely different. For kidlit, it was combined print and ebook. That’s right—one list shared between YA and MG, with hardcover, paperback, and ebook sales of a title counting toward the novel’s list chances. I remember authors jokingly calling it the John Green list back then because he routinely held around 3-4 of the ten slots. It was virtually impossible to hit as a debut.

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The list is still hard to hit—heck, I’ve never hit it!—but back then it was so much harder.

But I’m going on a tangent, and this post isn’t about the list. My point is simply that publishing has changed a LOT since I debuted, and this may be another reason why I’m shocked it’s been an actual decade since Taken hit shelves.

I’ve done “Things I’ve learned” posts before (see here and here), but nothing recently. And as I reflect on the past decade, I have a lot of thoughts that seem worth sharing.

I want to preface this post by saying I’m extremely grateful for the opportunities I’ve had. If anything, my gratitude has only grown in the past ten years because I realize now how truly difficult this industry is and how fortunate any author is to land not just one book deal, but several.

This list of lessons is pretty honest and raw, but I want to reiterate that I feel very, very lucky.

Okay. Let’s dig in…

1 — Careers ebb and flow

A big piece of advice that often floats around the publishing world is to just keep writing and good things will happen. And to an extent, yes. Good things do happen to writers who keep writing. But it is also possible to keep writing and experience more of the same. It’s possible to see your career grow, then slump. Or slump, then grow. It’s possible to flatline. To go downhill. Continuing to write is a shared variable across many outcomes.

If we plotted 100 authors’ careers on graph paper, careers that look like hills and valleys would be far more common than careers that skyrocketed straight off the chart. And even for the careers that overall experience slow, upward growth, it’s likely valleys would still be present.

Hardly anyone experiences constant high-level success. There is one Taylor Swift but many “one hit wonders.” Blockbuster level success is special in any industry and the same is true in publishing. Household names like Stephen King are rare. If you are looking to become the next literary sensation, prepare for disappointment because the odds that it will happen for you are so, so, so extremely low.

I don’t say this to be to be cruel, but to temper your expectations. Dream for it all you want, but even still, remember that it can be painful when dreams don’t come true. These days, I dream of a career with hills and valleys that trends upwards on average.

2 — Social media doesn’t sell books

This may sound controversial, because of course social media sells books. Colleen Hoover sold more books than the Bible in 2022 because of TikTok. The platform has helped many YA books break out. There are literal BookTok tables at B&N these days.

I guess what I’m really trying to say is that you, alone, posting on social media will not sell books at a similar scale. Something organic and bizarre needs to happen beyond your individual reach for a book to go viral online. So if you don’t enjoy making reels or tiktoks, free yourself of it now. Just stop doing it. Books can go viral without the author even having a presence online because true virality happens when readers go bonkers for the book, not when the author makes cute videos. It’s when thousands (or millions) of users on a given platform begin discussing a certain title, often without the author’s involvement, that things take off. (Nicole Brinkley recently wrote a piece called BookTok is Dead, Long Live BookTok, in which she points out how authors—and publishers—perhaps shouldn’t be these virtual book spaces anyway. Leave it to the readers!

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Going viral on social media (and selling books as a result) is not something you can manufacture. It is not something you, the author, can control. So go write your next book. Write so that if/when your book draws the lucky card and goes viral, you have a really great backlist available for readers to also discover.

3 — You start over with each new novel

I hate this so much, but in my experience, it’s true. If you’re releasing a sequel, it is less true, as you’re building on the previous book. But for every standalone, or every first-in-a-new-series release, you start over FROM SCRATCH.

Being an author isn’t like most traditional jobs where you will get paid what you were paid last week and the week before, or maybe even get a raise as you continue to put forth great work. No, as an author, you start over. The publisher considers what you should earn for this book. Then you market it again. Hope it gets good reviews again. Hope for sub boxes and B&N picks and Indie Next List features and passionate, vocal readers who will drive word-of-mouth. You go after blurbs. You promote and market. You push preorders.

There is a giant list of work that needs to happen and stars that need to align for each new book to make a splash… and that slate is wiped clean every time you publish a new novel. Even for the big authors. (Sure, they are more likely to get some of the fancier things because their track record shows them to be safe bets, but they still restart from scratch.)

It is exhausting.

I try to give my books their best chance, but if I see that certain things aren’t happening—if the pub doesn’t have big marketing plans and I haven’t gotten many preorders and the book isn’t in a single sub box (this happened with Dustborn)—I tell myself to relax. I try to divorce myself from the book’s performance. Its sales aren’t my responsibility alone, and I can only control so much—mainly the words. I already wrote a great book. I can’t do anything other than talk about the release and promote it as best I can. There is no sense working myself to death and/or dumping large amounts of my own money into marketing efforts, especially if the book is shaping up to have a quiet release.

Save your money. Save your energy. Promote your book in ways that are free, straightforward, and/or a good use of your time, but after that: write the next book.

4 — No one cares more about your book than you

This is not to say that your editor doesn’t love your novel. (They do.) It doesn’t mean your agent isn’t rooting for you (they are) or that your publisher wants your book to fail (they don’t). Everyone involved in sending your book into the world wants your book to succeed.

It’s just important to understand that no one cares more than you, the author. It is your novel—your blood, sweat, and tears—and the season/year it comes out, you are the one most invested in its performance. Your agent has other clients releasing novels that season/year and other writers on sub hoping to sell. Your editor has acquired other books to edit. Your publisher has an entire list of releases every season.

Every author naturally wants their book to get All The Things. But each season, only a few books can get that level of support. It’s not personal. It’s just business. Hope for the best, plan for the worst, and make peace with the fact that your book’s marketing plans are not a reflection of your worth, skill, or story.

5 — Protect your mental health

Traditional publishing is brutal—mentally and emotionally.

I’ve had a very hard past two years. When you keep hearing ‘no,’ it’s easy to begin to think that this means you are not good enough. Your craft, your stories—all of it. More likely, the margins are just really thin and you came up a millimeter short.

So when the external validation (or lack thereof) begins to mess with your creativity and the way you speak to yourself, you need to hit pause. How you pause may look different depending on your personality. For me, it typically means stepping away from social media and connecting with a writer friend for a one-on-one chat. Speaking bluntly with a friend I trust—being heard by them and then reassured about my skill/books/career/etc—can do wonders. Walks help also. Time with friends and family who know nothing about the industry. Other non-writing/reading/story-related hobbies.

6 — Writing friendships are complicated but crucial

Publishing feels small because it is small. But most authors aren’t your best friends, they’re your colleagues. You can be friendly with these colleagues, but be careful about who you choose to be your most vulnerable self with, who you choose to entrust with story ideas, who you discuss ups/downs with, who you go to for advice, and most importantly, who you go to when you need to complain.

I’m not saying this because I’ve been badly burned (though I do know others who have been). I’m mostly saying it because being a true friend to another writer requires a certain emotional and mental bandwidth. You want to give pieces of yourself to those who, on most days, are able to give back. So find your trusted circle and nurture those relationships. They may change over time, but it’s always good to know who your go-to writer buds are.

As for those outside of your circle? You should obviously still be professional and polite. Practicing kindness and giving people the benefit of the doubt are always good approaches, in my opinion. But you don’t owe every writer you know your time/knowledge/support/etc.

Lastly, understand where you are and where others are on the publishing “success” ladder. (Success in quotes because everyone defines this a bit differently.) Problems will look different at various stages of a career. Close friendships are possible between authors at different levels, but I firmly believe these relationships are strongest when both parties understand what the other is dealing with.

7 — Keep growing

You are never so good that you can afford to stop learning. Read widely. Study craft. Take workshops. Ask questions. Try every and any method at least once. Take what works for you and discard the rest.

There is no wrong way to write, but the best way to find your method is to try others and to keep learning. And, of course, to remember that what works for one book probably won’t work for another. That would be too easy. Every novel is a challenge in its own way, but that’s part of the journey. That’s how you continue to grow.

8 — It won’t always be fun, and that’s okay

I used to think that if the writing wasn’t fun—if it wasn’t flowing from me in this joyful outpouring of words—the story was broken. And sometimes, this is true. It can be because you’ve taken a wrong turn and something isn’t clicking. But it’s also possible that this scene/chapter/book is hard simply because it’s WORK.

Writing can be fun, but once it’s your job… well, in many ways, if it feels like work, congrats, you’ve made it. Sometimes you just have to put your butt in the chair and do it.

9 — Be ready to adapt

In the intro part of this post, I talked about how much publishing has changed since the early 2010s. A direct result of this evolution is that marketing/promo efforts that used to work—things like preorder campaigns and book tours—no longer do. At least not to the extent they used to. Sure, someone might get lucky and find success, but the chance of these ventures paying off is now much smaller than it used to be. (Susan Dennard just did a great post about this.)

Publishing hasn’t quite figured out what is working in the current landscape. Neither have authors. It’s important to be ready to adapt moving forward. Honestly, being adaptable is a good trait in general when it comes to writing/publishing. I tend to thrive on routine, so it has been frustrating for me to have to “relearn” promo and marketing every few years.

First it was blog tours and guest posts. Then it was booktube and preorder campaigns. Street teams, too. For awhile, good visibility on instagram paired with a few strategically timed appearances (signings, festivals/cons) helped greatly. Now? Who knows.

If, like me, you thrive on routine, it is more important than ever to accept that publishing is constantly evolving. Be ready to try new approaches. (It doesn’t mean you have to give 110% to every new trend. Heck, I’m still not on TikTok and never plan to be.) But when the industry does figure out that X, Y, and Z is currently working to move copies, you would be wise to adapt so that you’re hitting at least two of those three successful efforts.

Similarly themed: get outside your comfort zone. (For someone who loves the familiar, I am constantly writing new genres.) I think diversifying what you write can never hurt you. Explore new audiences, new genres, new methods (go indie, try serializing something on substack, explore screenwriting). The more you adapt, the more irons you can have in the fire.

10 — Publishing is not a meritocracy

It doesn’t matter how good you are, if you’re continuously improving your craft, or how hard you work/hustle. Publishing is not a meritocracy. It is a business that is heavily influenced by luck and timing. Books that are performing well? Those authors will continue to get extra support/push. Books that aren’t performing? They get less.

In many ways, you are only as good as your last book. If it did great, there will be expectations (perhaps unspoken, but there), that the next book perform at that same level, or better. If it flopped, it will be harder to sell another book. Sales follow you, so if you have a slump for a few consecutive years, the issue compounds. You become a riskier bet to the publisher.

Is this fair? No. Does it suck? Yes. But the sooner you accept that this is how publishing currently functions, the less neurotic the entire industry will make you.

Please note how I said “currently.” It currently functions like this. I really do hope this can change, that authors’ sales tracks won’t be judged so critically—that we can invest in careers instead of individual books. But publishing is a business and it might never evolve as I hope. Which is why it is so important to keep writing great stories. A fine book by an author with lackluster sales probably won’t get picked up. But a fantastic, unputdownable, ball-out-of-the-park novel by an author with lackluster sales probably will.

11 — Keep writing… but only if you love it

Someone asked me the other day why I keep doing it. If I’m so frustrated with publishing and have experienced all these “no”s and aren’t even getting paid for my hard work… WHY do I keep doing it?

I’m not really sure. The industry is maddening. But also? I just really love writing. I might be able to quit Publishing, but I don’t think I could quit telling stories. I guess that’s why I keep doing it. Because I have to. And for the time being, if I’m still writing stories, I figure I might as well keep trying to publish them.

Granted, the decision to keep writing is an individual one. Every writer has to make it for themselves. I think it’s completely acceptable for someone to say, Look, I tried this thing, I had my time with it, and now I’m pivoting to something else.

For me, I still love writing. I’ve always loved writing. Publishing may not always love me back, but writing does. I feel most like myself when I am alone with my characters, when I get lost in the words.

I try to remember that on the rough days.

If you too love writing, please make sure you remember the same. The industry tries to steal it from you. It tries really, really hard. Don’t let it take your joy.

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Lastly…

The fact that my job is to make up stories will never cease to amaze me. This isn’t really a lesson learned so much as me repeating something that I’ve been saying since I signed my first book deal. Even after a decade of publishing, it still makes me giddy: I’m an author. I write books!

It isn’t always an easy job, but it sure is special. Eight-year-old me would be in awe.

Until next time,

1. I’m giving away a paperback copy of the set on insta for anyone interested. Enter here.

2. If I’m remembering correctly, not a single author from my 2013 debut class hit the list with their debut. (Some went on to hit with their second title the following year. But I don’t think ANYONE hit out of the gate.)

3. I want to add that I think publishers and authors need to be in social media spaces. We have to promote our products. But I do agree that the rise of influencers (in all industries, across all platforms) makes it hard for users to know who is being paid to talk about something and who is talking about something because they genuinely love it. But this complicated dynamic is a post for another time!