How to “Make It” as an Author
A man, lets call him Charles, self-published a book on Amazon. Like me, he doesn’t understand Snapchat and isn’t very good at Twitter. He contacted me because he knows I have constructed my life around writing. Presumably, because I have published a book, am a bit younger than Charles, and perhaps because he thinks I’m hip with the young kids, he asked me how to “make it” as an author. This question took me by surprise because (a) I have in no way “made it” as an author and (b) if “making it” as an author is the goal of writing, let’s all do the world a favor and keep our day jobs.
What follows is my response to Mr. Charles, in which I tried to elucidate the difference between “making it” as an author — something that as far as I can tell requires a lot of skill, a lot of practice, a lot of contacts, and a lot of luck — and “making it” as a writer, which to the surprise of many aspiring authors only requires one thing: a shit ton of writing.
At the end of the day, Charles, if you want to “make it” as an author, leaving your debut novel on Amazon in hopes of recognition is kind of like recording the first song you’ve ever written on Garage Band, putting it on YouTube, and hoping it will go viral. As a personal accomplishment, I think it’s awesome you’ve got a book “out there.” I wonder what the ratio is of people who say they’re working on a book and people who actually finish it?
Plus, I imagine you had no illusions about literary fame when joining the millions (is it billions yet ?) of self-published Amazon authors. To stand out from the pack requires a lot of things, primarily a damn good novel. I’m not saying your novel is bad, but it might be. That’s what happens with first novels. But assuming it is something you would enjoy if you hadn’t written it, and as far as not being content with your current reader count, here is the fundamental question: do you go on Amazon and buy self-published works from first time authors who don’t use social media? And if not, why not? We aren’t literary geniuses and never will be, and we don’t deserve “to be read” simply because we‘re on Amazon. I imagine you know this, but maybe not: there is a major difference between writing a book and writing a book that is publishable.
In this day and age, and in order to “make it” as an author, it seems you have to either (1) write an incredible novel, secure a literary agent who likes it and sends it to a major publisher who also likes it or (2) devote yourself to “building your brand” online, which includes writing for high-profile publications (preferably with a unique angle and thousands of followers), providing a constant flow of interesting posts on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter (throw in SnapChat for good measure), and curating a website that will almost assuredly be powered by SquareSpace, from which you should be writing a witty, entertaining blog a few times per month. Then, after a few years, an agent may contact you about a book you’ve got laying around.
You said you can’t be bothered to do the social media thing, and for the most part I can’t either. I tweet occasionally and also have a website, but I use it more as a resume than a place to provide new content. I’m doomed to be a novelist through and through, which means I spend most of my writing-time writing novels. Finishing this current manuscript — a culmination of my BA and MA research into Nazism and humanity’s relationship to creation and destruction (it’s been four years in the making) — takes entirely too much energy and focus to think about using the right hashtags to gain followers. Consequently, I’ve accepted that option number 2 — branding myself — isn’t happening. Which leaves me with the challenge of writing a fantastic novel.
I was incredibly fortunate to be published through Inkshares before any other novelist had funded a novel (their crowd-based publishing model meant I had to raise $10,000 in pre-orders in 3 months. I emailed literally every person I could think of and also met some kind souls at public bus stops). I am proud of Slim and The Beast, sure, but I have a feeling the reason I‘ve sold 1,200 copies is because I benefited from a marketing campaign that was intended to also get Inkshares off the ground … let’s just say it was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing for a totally unknown author to have a book tour. This is why for me, as far as my next step goes in “making it” as an author, I need to find a literary agent who believes in my work, which means I need to spend as much time as possible refining my manuscript and making it the best book possible. Do you believe in your work, or do you believe other people should believe in it? Those are two very different questions, and one of them is the wrong one.
It takes many, many years of serious, disciplined writing to actually write something others will like. And even then, there’s no guarantee you’ll make a penny from it, or that people will like it; but at least you can be proud of the work you’ve done. I hate my first novel and wish I could change much about the second. This third one is getting there, but there are still moments when I feel like curling up into a ball and weeping because I don’t really know if I’ve used a semi-colon correctly. So if you take a long, hard, honest look at your work on Amazon, can you say, “This is the best possible version of this book that I can muster,”? If so, pat yourself on the back, write a few query letters, see if anyone bites, and start writing another novel.
There are the exceptions to the rule, of course, but for the vast majority of us writers, we must keep writing. We must also share our work with others, listen to their critical feedback (and digest it), get rejected (and understand why we have been rejected), get rejected again, and continue onwards. If you’re not writing every day, or at least thinking about writing every day and writing every other day, the math doesn’t add up. Malcolm Gladwell’s “10,000 Hours” idea may or may not be bullshit, but it’s safe to say unless you’ve made writing an integral part of your lifestyle, you’re not in a good position to “make it” as an author.
Which brings us to my conclusion after seven years of serious writing: the only viable goal is to keep on keeping on. If writing hasn’t become an essential, life-giving, soul-soothing undertaking that you can no longer live without, don’t do it. Writing books is way too frustrating, time-consuming, financially ludicrous, and quite frankly depressing to be worth so much time wrapped up in imaginary worlds where our characters are our closest confidants, only to raise our head, realize no one cares, and still equate “success” with rave reviews and social media stardom. Yes, the recognition is nice and validation is important. But I had that recognition for about three months in 2015, and I’m writing you an email from my menial job, wondering how I’ll get my next manuscript off the ground. At the end of the day, public recognition and book sales can’t be the measure of success because both are too ephemeral and subjective to be able to count on. My advice is to query a literary agent if you believe your work holds value. You will be rejected many times. So how much do you believe in your novel? Authors that “make it” are invariably people who kept trudging up the mountain; Ta-Nehisi Coates gives some of the best writing advice I’ve ever come across.
So keep writing. If not every day, every other day … but do it every day , dammit. You’re a writer, after all. Submit your work when you feel it’s complete, and query literary agents with confidence. When the rejections start to roll in, don’t get hung up on them. Listen to the criticism of people you trust. Agree or disagree with it, but don’t make the same mistakes in the next novel.
To fail as an author is human; to succeed as a writer is divine.
Write on.
