Of course, there are sometimes bad surprises, but publishing can surprise in a good way as well. “I think the biggest surprise during the whole publishing process is how enthusiastic the entire team is for my book,” says Dana Elmendorf of her experience with publisher Mira Books on her novel In the Hour of Crows. “On our first marketing call, there were about eight people and each one of them gushed about my book. And I sat there thinking, Holy cow, they’re talking about your book, Dana! It was truly an emotional moment for me.” 

While it’s true many new writers can be intimidated by the process of submitting to agents and publishers, these same gatekeepers are often the most engaged advocates for their authors. From the editors to the publicists, it’s common for everyone on the publishing team to be locked on for their authors, but it doesn’t stop there. 

“The biggest shock was getting blurbs from well-established authors,” says Marcus Kliewer, debut novelist of We Used to Live Here. “It’s still surreal to have anyone reading my work, let alone writers I’ve looked up to for years. When the first quotes came in from Alma Katsu and Nick Cutter, I literally had to sit down.” 

Even seasoned pros can find new situations that spark joy, as Claudia Mills, author of more than 60 books, including The Last Apple Tree, explains, “Usually everything in publishing takes forever. This time, though, my editor replied within four hours of receiving the manuscript from my agent to say she meant to take a peek, but couldn’t stop reading and loved it, and would take it to an editorial meeting. Less than a week later, we had an offer—a record for me in my four decades in the business!” 

Validation and praise from others can be a huge part of the wonder of publishing, but there’s also that creative spark that comes from unexpected sources. “The part of the process that is always a surprise—in a good way—is how the team works with the artist to create the cover,” says Samira Ahmed, author of This Book Won’t Burn. “I love seeing how the themes and story are given life via design and illustration. It’s a unique sort of translation and I learn something new with each new cover design process.” 

“The best advice I can give to any writer, aspiring or otherwise, is to keep writing. Don’t wait for an agent, a publisher, a contract, just keep writing and editing, every single day. Treat your writing like the job that it is,” advises Kimberly Belle, bestselling author of The Paris Widow. “Some days you’ll end with a lot of words, other days you’ll stare at your screen and pull out your hair. In the end, it all evens out and before you know it, you’ll have a whole book.” 

After all, the wonder of publishing doesn’t just happen. It takes hours of time spent reading, writing, thinking, and communicating—both with yourself and the world. Experiencing the splendor of publishing success is the result of dedicated creative work. 

“The business of writing is a tough one, and it doesn’t always make sense,” explains Greg Iles, bestselling author of Southern Man. “A lot of bad books get published, and even sell, while some decent or even good ones never do. In general, though, if you have the goods as a writer, your work will get noticed and sell, at least to a publisher, if not to millions of readers.” 

Or as Katee Robert, author of Blood on the Tide, says, “I would advise authors to chase their joy and just get that book out on paper, whatever their process might look like. They can worry about marketability and all the business details once the book is finished. The true magic happens in the joy, and that’s the one thing that’s consistent, whether you’re writing your first book or your hundredth.”

As someone who’s written hundreds of print articles and thousands of digital posts and published dozens of books, I whole-heartedly echo Robert’s sentiment that the true magic happens in the creative process, whether that’s writing the first draft, working through revisions, or considering feedback from agents and editors. 

“I’ve been writing professionally for decades, but I’d never really understood the value of pushing yourself through an ongoing revision process,” says Jennifer Romolini, author of Ambition Monster. “Over the course of 18 months, I revised and revised and revised this book. My first draft was clean and ‘good,’ but the book we’re publishing is the best work I’ve ever done.” 

The team concept may be one of the more underrated wonders of publishing. Whether it’s the revision process mentioned by Romolini, the cover design touched on by Ahmed, or the enthusiasm espoused by Elmendorf, publishing involves more than one person. Publishing is a collaborative act that requires multiple people working together to produce something of great value to even more people. For it to work, the players must have each other’s backs. 

“I didn’t realize just how necessary it is to have an editor who really understands not only your work, but you, too,” says Chimene Suleyman, author of The Chain. “There are points in the process where life gets in the way, and you need a team around you who can bring the best out of you as a person, not only the work.” 

Maybe that’s what makes publishing such a wonderful business. In so many industries, there are incentives for the individual to succeed against other individuals. As an editor who has worked with hundreds of writers over the years, I consider their success my success. Talking to hundreds of other agents, editors, publicists, marketers, book buyers, publishers, and other publishing professionals, I can say that is a common goal for most of us (there’s always room for a few people who haven’t figured it out yet). In many respects, the wonder of publishing is that it’s a business of perpetual positivity—even when people on the outside try to prognosticate its eventual demise. The wonder of publishing is that it continues to dare to succeed. 

“Stop talking yourself out of your book dream,” says Christina Myers, award-winning author of Halfway Home: Thoughts From a Midwife. “Stop asking ‘what if’ and filling in the answer with the worst-case scenarios, like ‘What if I can’t finish this?’ and ‘What if no one wants to publish it?’ Instead, start asking ‘what if’ and filling in the answer with the best possibilities: What if I finish writing this book and it’s great? What if it gets published and readers love it? What if I get the chance to write more books? The former will slow you down and make you doubt yourself; the latter will convince you to keep going.” 

As someone who still finds joy in the publishing process, I couldn’t agree more.

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As a collegiate debater, I was at my most eloquent only when my opponent was bringing the heat. As a dog owner, my pup and I only started earning ribbons to clap back at the shade we were getting from a white couple and their Labrador named for a Disney princess.

(I Got 8 Agent Offers; Then, My Book Died on Sub.)

And as a writer, I wrote a revenge book after Pitch Wars rejected me.

The first time around, I’d gotten a request for the full, and though I knew I shouldn’t (and actively told myself I wasn’t) I developed expectations. I read the request email again and again, mulling over how to tell my husband the good news—where should we go to dinner? What should I wear to the speakeasy-themed cocktail bar, the one where you have to whisper your reservation to a tinny voice on a rotary phone in the back? Should I dress sexy or mysterious?

Ultimately, I ended up telling him about my failure in pajamas. They were not sexy pajamas. I paid $400 for a guy on Fiverr to tell me what was wrong with the book. I skimmed his notes, flinching at a red comment: “You’re better than this.”

I stashed away the novel and scrubbed bird crap off my patio furniture, blinking hard, feeling like a salty little goblin. I scanned the list of Pitch Wars mentees that did not include me and set up shop outside, tucking a blanket underneath me because the patio furniture was still damp from the sponge.

Starting a new book inside by the warm glow of a little wood stove was also an option, but salt goblins enjoy the drama of making things difficult. Winter in the Pacific Northwest is wet and dark, and I enjoyed that too. The plume of steam from hot buttered rum. Numb toes. Rain dotting an oversized sweatshirt. Explosive barking as the dog chased rats off the porch. Throaty howls from an obnoxious neighbor who barked back.

If only those Pitch Wars mentors could see me, I thought, squeezing out a new story through cold-chapped fingers. It was an attractive line of thought, like telling myself my exes remember me as the one that got away or the dentist who only admired my bottom row of teeth must’ve realized the rest of my mouth was beautiful, too.

This pettiness kept me warm through drafting the book that would become Listen To Your Sister. This pettiness got me selected for Pitch Wars in 2021.

My mentor was a horror aficionado and my first-ever fan. We talked movies with the fervor of die-hard devotees. We argued if an Irish film was a feminist triumph or trauma porn. That energy translated to revisions, where I manifested her wouldn’t-it-be-fun suggestions into reality. She’s the expert and I’m just a baby, I reasoned. If this wasn’t the right direction, wouldn’t it look wrong on the page? Wouldn’t it feel wrong coming out?

My mentor’s advice was sound. Her critique was kind. Enthusiastic. I was working hard, making the most of the opportunity I’d been given. So why did I feel a little lost?

In middle school, I took dance class to get out of gym. That was the wrong call. Gym class consisted of stretching and mat kickball—the bases were long blue mats and you were safe as long as you fit. The dance teacher recorded our choreography then berated each girl by name where we went wrong. “Neena, you’re off beat,” she’d say, circling my fuck-ups with a red marker, and I wished I was crammed on the blue mat in gym class and safe.

Pitch Wars was a similar sense of exposure. Dancing in a group, the mirror amplifying my step-ball-change and insecurities. A camera recording. A red marker.

Under my mentor’s guidance, I began to see how this skin-crawling vulnerability could elevate my story. It’s a Final Girl’s weakness becoming strength that separates her from an extra, someone that could die off-page in the woods and you wouldn’t care. For the thrill to be genuine, I would have to set conditions where the characters have to give everything. Moreover, my mentor’s influence and delighted horror-movie chatter reminded me that the descent into fear was supposed to be fun.

I re-wrote half of the book—inside this time, I’d earned the right to be warm by getting into Pitch Wars—and bit my nails to the quick through the agent showcase. My husband and I celebrated and I wore dark red lipstick to the speakeasy with the rotary phone.

When I reflect on my time in the program, I linger on the generosity of the community, the overwhelming talent and expertise in the cohort, but mostly fixate on my malleability. I didn’t think for myself. I was too motivated by my mentor’s approval, by the dopamine boost that came with her crying-laughing emojis on Slack.

Listen To Your Sister came from failure. It was a maelstrom of anxieties from a time when I felt unmoored and stressed and rosy with love. A time when I faithfully followed the recipe, but the chicken didn’t look right. When I tried convincing tech bros to care about philanthropy and ended up raging in the car instead. My stockings always had holes and my texts were glibber than I felt. When you’re better than this applied to so much of my life.

I reviewed the edit letter I received shortly after Pitch Wars started, but this time, I implemented my own solutions. I re-wrote the same half of the book again. It was terrifying and exhilarating, like dancing in that mirror, but this time I was alone. This time, I had space. I wrote outside again and I was warm. Tingling even, as I sent the revised novel back.

There. Reject that.

I’d felt lost in Pitch Wars because I was lost. Somewhere along the way, I’d stopped writing for spite and started writing for validation. Writing this way earned me an agent.

But writing for myself earned me an editor.

In Listen To Your Sister, mid-twenties Calla Williams is overwhelmed after becoming the guardian to her teenage brother, Jamie. She counts on her middle brother, Dre, to help, and is disappointed. The siblings are marked by their many failures to tend to themselves and each other. They pay for it. The tension explodes when they escape to a remote cabin, and it’s here that I kept the best of what I learned in Pitch Wars: vulnerability and fun, hold and release.

Now, I get crying-laughing emojis from readers on Instagram. I’m nervous as hell in a way that makes me understand my middle school self a bit better—pirouetting in a group was still less anxiety-inducing than teeing up the kickball alone. Maybe my inner goblin liked the challenge of the dance teacher, the next-level bitch who power-tripped over children. Maybe it takes a grudge to tease out my best.

I don’t always like this part of myself, but this salty little miss is necessary to keep me from losing my shape in the subjectivity of the publishing industry. 

Check out Neena Viel’s Listen to Your Sister here:

Bookshop | Amazon

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(The One Thing Every Author Needs to Market Their Book.)

It was my YouTube channel which led to an unexpected conversation with my now-editor, Lucy Brem at Pan Macmillan. She was on the hunt for New York vlogs before a trip of her own, and stumbled across videos that I had shared of a recent trip. After watching a little further back, she picked up on subtle mentions of a ‘writing project’ which had been taking up a lot of my free time. That writing project was actually the cozy, comforting, witchy story that I’d spent the last three years on, solely for the purpose of seeing if I could finally cross off my bucket list goal—to write a book, to see a story through to the end.

It’s no exaggeration to say my life has always revolved around books, reading and writing. Looking back, I think all of my career decisions were chosen with the assumption that, no matter where or what, I would end up writing in some capacity. Having been an avid bookworm since I was young, I went on to study English Literature at university. From there, it was freelance journalism for titles like Marie Claire, Cosmopolitan, and MTV UK for many years, before my social media and often book-based content eventually took over. Even then, written work has constantly ticked along in the background.

A very early spark of a story idea popped into my head in 2020 while I was on one of the classic, local area walks that were keeping us all vaguely sane during the pandemic. It was the image of a witch, just turning 30, and having to prove to a jury of her coven peers that she was worthy of keeping the magic she had been neglecting. It was very reflective of how I was feeling at the time, having developed a real fear of allowing myself to shine for fear of failing. I kept the whole experience of writing completely private, knowing that any outside pressure or interest would make me overthink it and inevitably stop.

That first email that landed in my inbox from Lucy, asking if she could hear more about what I’d been working on, was the first of many moments that have felt like real-life magic (and a lot of luck) was afoot. The universe was on my side—she had been looking for a cozy, witchy book to take on, and that was exactly what I’d spent years privately writing, with no real intention to actually pursue publishing. We clicked on first meeting, and it was clear to me that she absolutely ‘got’ the heart of the book, which came from such a personal and vulnerable place. Trusting my gut instinct, I signed a two-book deal unagented, confident that I should seize the dream for myself. We have worked closely together throughout the entire editing process. The rights team at Pan Macmillan then took the reins on securing international deals for Rewitched, finding its perfect US home with wonderful editor Anne Sowards at Berkley.

It wasn’t until Pan Macmillan went public with my publishing announcement that I had a separate conversation with my now-agent, Maddy Belton at Madeleine Milburn Literary Agency. Maddy reached out to me after spotting the news of my two-book deal online to see if I was interested in further guidance and support. It was another fortuitous connection. MMA had been the agency that I had quietly thought to myself would be on the ‘dream list,’ if I ever found the courage to query Rewitched one day. Signing with them has proved invaluable. Maddy has helped me to understand the workings of a notoriously unique and secretive industry, and to plan much more effectively for the future of my writing. Maddy will also now be an additionally helpful pair of eyes in the editing process for my second book, which is something that I didn’t have the first time around.

Once the publishing deal was in place, having an audience certainly helped with the tricky prospect of marketing a debut novel. My followers and I often share the same interests, taste, insecurities, and sense of humor, so it makes sense that a book I had written largely for myself, a story that I had needed to hear, would resonate with them too. As an autumn-obsessed, nostalgic, and self-reflective gang, many of them were excited about the story specifically, rather than just the fact that I had written a book. But the flip side of a so-called ‘ready-made’ audience is that it’s only going to work if the endeavor is a genuine one. An audience that is so familiar with you can easily spot a disingenuous project—and they will let you know about it if they do. It carries an overwhelming risk of public failure, which is often more than enough to discourage a dream.

A platform on social media can only provide a temporary boost to an author, maybe a springboard for pre-orders for example. But the book itself must still do the heavy lifting if the aim is to reach out any further into the book world than a limited following number. If achieving any kind of longevity or reputation as a ‘real’ author is the goal, the book and the writing must ultimately be good enough to stand by itself. Luck has certainly been on my side during the publishing process for Rewitched, but spending more than 12 years building a following doesn’t feel like much of an effective, magical ‘shortcut’ to anything.

Social media is a powerful tool, one that is scary to a lot of (usually introverted) writers. But my own experience is hopefully a positive and optimistic reminder that you never do know who’s watching, and my favorite mindset to try and return to—what’s the best that could happen?

Check out Lucy Jane Wood’s Rewitched here:

Bookshop | Amazon

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(5 Tips for Writing as a Parent)

But around 2015, friends, probably tired of my rambling Facebook posts, encouraged me to start a blog. So, I cautiously signed up myself for a free site. Writing became an outlet for me, a sort of free therapy. I was happier when I wrote consistently. So, in 2016 when my laptop broke and we couldn’t afford to replace it, to say I missed writing was an understatement. It was like a limb had been cut off and then reattached with duct tape and instructions to continue with regular activity. Which is what I did. The stiffest of upper lips, sucked it up, and all that. Secretly, I longed to write.

A few months later, a friend asked me for coffee. When I got there, she presented me with … a new laptop. A group of moms (most I didn’t even know) had been following the blog. They’d pitched in and bought it for me so I could keep writing. It was the most remarkable gift I have ever received. I decided then and there that I was going to write a book.

So, during naptimes, at 1 a.m., in between cleaning up spilled milk and wrestling naked children off the trampoline, I wrote. That laptop lived on my kitchen counter, perched on an economy box of baby wipes. I often wrote in five- or 10-minute increments, standing at my kitchen counter.

In 2017, I finished that book.

I had no money for extras. I didn’t attend conferences. I couldn’t pay for an outside editor. I used the resources I found around me—the writing community on Twitter. I found a local writing group. I met strangers who became critique partners who are now lifelong friends. I started querying and got requests. None of them panned out. Then, in June 2017, my only sister/sibling and best friend passed away unexpectedly, and I plummeted into a severe depression. But I didn’t give up on that stupid book. Some days, it was one of the few things that kept me going.

Over 16 months, I queried 107 agents. I was rejected a lot until I thought about changing my name to Reject. Two days before my 40th birthday, I signed with my agent. My book went out on submission.

In the meantime, I secretly entered the Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart contest. I told no one, not even my agent. I was sitting in a parking lot of a pet store when I got the news that I was a finalist. I cried, as one does receiving such news in a pet shop parking lot, then politely turned down the invitation to attend the conference in New York City which might as well cost a million dollars. But the people in my life wouldn’t let that slide. They encouraged me to crowd source for the funds. It took a little over a week for friends, family, and members of the writing community to fully fund my plane ticket, hotel, and conference fee. I went to NYC for that conference.

While I didn’t win, it was the second most remarkable gift I’ve received.

Alas, that book did not sell. So, I wrote a second book. It was pretty good, better than my first. Because in the years leading up to it, I learned a lot about writing for publication. The book went out on submission in 2019. And the response was positive. I got a revise and resubmit from an editor, so, you guessed it, we pulled it and I did more revisions. It went back on submission in February 2020—days before the world exploded.

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Then my personal life exploded, too. In August 2020, my husband was laid off his job of 10 years. Two months later, he contracted COVID and ended up hospitalized. In January 2021, my oldest son began having grand mal seizures. In February 2021, the Freeze came through Texas and our two-story house was completely destroyed by frozen pipes. Our family of six moved into a 700-square-foot hotel room for over four months. My husband still hadn’t found a new job. I could barely read a book, let alone write one. Things were bleak.

And no, this is not the part of the story where my book magically sold at auction for seven figures and a movie deal.

We finally got back into our house and in October 2021, my husband accepted a job 2,000 miles away. So, we sold our house, uprooted the kids from the only place they’ve ever lived, and moved right after Christmas. My book was still in submission-limbo and I was beginning to think maybe I wasn’t meant to be a writer.

But in January of 2022, my agent submitted to Bookouture, an imprint of Hachette U.K. and … they liked it. Liked it so much, I was signing a two-book deal in February. Six months later, The Do-Over was published.

I have to pinch myself all the time that this is really happening. I am a published author. Has my world suddenly become rainbows and kittens? No, it has not. We still have a lot of challenges, and they aren’t going anywhere. But I know what I’m capable of now. There’s power in that, the knowledge that with persistence, stubbornness, and a little hope, even the biggest, scariest, most impossible dreams can come true.

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Much like working at a non-profit, book distribution meant needing a Swiss Army knife of skills—from sales to working with authors and publishers to marketing to managing events. I spent seven years working in distribution in trade publishing and then moved to Johns Hopkins University Press. There I ran the distribution division and later took over sales for the books division and several distribution clients.

(Instagram: An Underutilized Tool for the Freelance Writer)

After 30 years of promoting and selling other people’s books, I decided it was time to write one of my own. I knew from the start that I wanted to work with a publisher. Writing a book is hard, but editing, designing, marketing, selling, and distributing can be even harder. Self-publishing has its limitations, and I knew I wanted and needed the support and collaboration of a publisher. In another twist of fate, I would also end up selling my book, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

I finished a draft of my novel in the spring of 2018 and did what so many impatient writers do—I rushed the process. I sent it out to a few agents and publishers and while there was some interest, they all passed. They were right to pass on it because it wasn’t ready. And then I did the other thing that many demoralized writers do—I set the manuscript aside. A few years went by. Then in early 2021, a stress-induced trip to the ER resulted in me picking it up for one last revision.

Around the same time, I received a list of forthcoming books from one of my distribution clients, The University of New Orleans Press. I was surprised to see that their lead title was a psychological thriller. I had worked with them as their distributor through my moves with three book distribution companies. I had always appreciated their lists and working with them. Might they be interested in my book…?

It was a right place, right time moment and they said they wanted to publish my debut novel. It was a leap of faith for both of us. It meant that I would be an author for a publisher who was also my client. I was also in charge of sales, so I would be responsible for selling and distributing my book. I made sure we didn’t have any legal conflicts of interest and happily signed the contract.

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The overlap of my multiple roles was awkward at times, but also incredibly helpful. I could see so much of what was going on with the book. I saw the pre-orders and demand at the wholesalers. I saw who was requesting review copies. I was able to add to the book’s metadata in real time (with the publisher’s permission). I could also go behind the curtain and look at pre-orders at a certain large online retailer. It was fascinating to me from an empirical standpoint. Did you know that one pre-order can cause a book to change its ranking by over a million and two pre-orders over two million?

I knew what it was like to work with demanding authors and vowed to be collaborative every step of the way. I had the benefit of knowing how the systems worked and the lengthy timelines involved. I could answer many of my own questions. I also had realistic expectations. I knew that most books sell fewer than 1,000 copies and that I would have to work hard to beat that number. Despite my unique situation, I still have to work as hard as any other author to market and promote my book.

Once I signed the contract, I had over a year until the pub date, and I have spent nights and just about every weekend working on the marketing. That part of the process should not be underestimated. Your publisher is going to work hard to make sure the book is edited, designed, marketed, and sold, but they still need your help reaching readers.

With about 30 years of experience, I have drawn on everything I’ve learned working in the book industry to support my novel. I continue to learn, often daily, during this process. While my role as distributor and sales director has provided me with access to information, the most important aspects of promoting my novel came down to time, research, planning, and collaboration.

Here are my top 10 tips for book promotion:

1. What’s your elevator pitch? Can you describe your book in an engaging single sentence? It’s harder than it sounds.

2. It is never too early to work on your website and social media platform(s). In fact, you want to do that as soon as possible so that your website is indexed and appears in the top search results. Consider claiming your Google identity so that you can influence how you appear in searches.

3. Long before your book comes out, consider starting an email list and newsletter and actively engage with your readers. This helps build that trust and relationship before you even release a book so they’re already supporting you on the front end.

4. Go to bookstores and libraries. Where do you see your book fitting in? Do you see any trends or opportunities for your story?

5. Spend time researching books like yours. Within the business, we call these comp titles or competitive titles. This is crucial information for buyers. Pay particular attention to books published in the last three years.

6. Booksellers can be the greatest champion for your book. Take some time to get to know your local stores and market with heart so you can make sure you don’t get lost in the shuffle.

7. Data is everything. Your book will likely first be discovered online and you want to make sure you are including concise keywords and strong descriptive text.

8. Patience is key! Your publisher is investing in your book and they want to see it succeed as much as you do. A buyer may have skipped your book. That doesn’t mean your book isn’t fabulous; it may just mean it wasn’t right for that store or that the store or wholesaler is going to wait and see what the demand looks like before they order.

9. Publishing can be a small community. Be the kind of author people want to work with and treat everyone with respect. You’re building a great community, and your reputation, in the publishing world.

10. It’s okay not to understand everything. Don’t be afraid to ask questions. Ask for help when you need it.

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