What are publicity and marketing?
The teams responsible for spreading the word about your book through things like advertisements, interviews, and tours. 

What’s the difference between publicity and marketing?
Publicity: all the free methods of spreading the word about your book. Interviews, blogs, articles, appearances at events, etc.

Marketing: All the advertising the publisher pays for. Things like posters, the fancy displays in big bookstores, and spots in catalogues.

Does every book get the same attention from publicity and marketing?
No. A publisher wants all their books to succeed, but they have to allocate their resources differently based on their sales predictions about each book. Sometimes books get a lot of fanfare, then quietly vanish. Sometimes a book emerges quietly, but gets really popular through word of mouth. So it goes. 

Will they send me on a book tour?
Probably not, sorry - but you're not alone! Most authors aren’t sent on book tours. It’s a lot of time and money – besides which, the entire concept of book tours is shifting; instead of one new author on the road alone, it’s becoming common to see events where new authors are paired with veteran authors in their genre to help build an audience. That way, the new author isn’t left out there in a strange city, hoping people show up to hear from an author they don’t know about. Your team can also help you plan events in your hometown, or in places where you’re fairly certain to get a crowd. That’s not to say book tours don’t happen – they definitely do! But don’t go in expecting one.

What if I feel like my publicist isn’t doing enough?
Talk to your publicist about it – politely. Communicate your concerns and see what can be done. In some cases, people also hire an outside publicist to help – but this isn’t a requirement for success, and before you jump to spending your own money, share your thoughts with your team.

What if there’s a platform where I’d love to be interviewed?
Great! Tell your publicist. Make suggestions. You know the most about your book and where it might resonate in the world. Any extra ideas you’re willing to share or work you’re willing to do is helpful.

I’m really shy and I hate the idea of having to talk to anyone. Do I have to?
Nobody can make you. But your participation does help.

I’m not shy, I love talking to everyone, and I think I should be headline news – why am I not?
Be reasonable, friend. Not every writer can be everywhere they’d like. Awesome as you are, there’s very limited space on the covers of those dream magazines and on those popular shows – and there’s a long line.

I have a ton of ideas about swag to make, blogs to write for, interviews to do. I shall do them all!
Great! If you have the resources, time, and energy, go for it. But be sure to check in with yourself, be honest, and remember that this stuff is also taking time away from your writing. Balance it all, and feel free to say no to things when you need to.

Here you'll find: 

• FAQ: What is it and how's it work?
• ​What Will Be In the Contract: Some clauses  and terms to know

What is a publishing contract?
This is the document you sign, outlining the rights you're granting to the publisher, and your obligations to each other. 

What am I agreeing to?
Basically, you're giving them permission to publish your book in various formats, like print and audio. What you agree to give them is up to you and your agent. You're also ensuring that they agree to do things that you want. It's a two-way street. 

I'm not good at understanding contracts.
That's what your agent is for! They go to bat for you here, and negotiate the contract for you. Feel free to read up on different kinds of clauses, but don't stress too much. Any questions you have, your agent can answer. This is their job, and they know what they're doing. 

Do I have to agree to whatever the publisher offers?
Nope! If you're unhappy with something in the contract, you can talk to your agent about changing it before you sign. The publisher expects give and take. You're allowed to stand up for yourself. 

If I sign, does the publisher become my employer?
No. You're a freelance worker, providing a product. Signing a publishing contract doesn't mean you're working for the publisher. 

What turns up in your contract is between you, your agent, and your publisher. Your agent should answer any questions you have about your contract, and can help you understand it.

Keep in mind that, while your editor is probably a great person, and you're all really excited, this is a business negotiation, and you're dealing with a company whose main goal is to make money. 

Time to approach this with a level head and clear eyes. 

This is a negotiation. The publisher needs your product, and you deserve compensation for your work. So, while it might feel like the publisher is a fairy godmother answering your greatest wish, remember: they're not doing you a favor - they're doing their job. 

Here are some terms you might encounter. These are by no means exhaustive, and are *definitely* not legal advice. 

Boilerplate: A publisher's template publishing contract, meant to be individualized and adjusted to fit your situation. You shouldn't be signing a boilerplate contract; it'd be a bit like moving into an unfinished house. 

Joint Accounting: Combining the funds of multiple books together into one advance, so that each of those books have to earn out before you get royalties for any of them.

Mandated publication period: A specified amount of time within which your publisher has to actually publish your book.

Morality Clause: Says that if the publisher finds your behavior immoral they can cancel your contract. 

Option Clause: (Also called Right of First Refusal) Says the publisher gets the first look at whatever you write next to decide if they want to offer on it, before you send it to anyone else. These should be made finite and specific; they shouldn't get dibs on anything you write ever again for the rest of time.

Subsidiary Rights: (Subrights) The rights to publish your work in other formats, like audiobooks, plays, or graphic novels. 

Territories: The countries or regions in which the publisher has the right to sell your book. 

Again, this is where your agent shines. They know these contracts inside out and backwards. They're here to negotiate this stuff on your behalf, so don't stress yourself out. Just speak up if anything seems weird,  and ask lots of questions if you're at all confused or concerned. 

 What’s an editor?
In traditional publishing, an editor convinces their publishing house to acquire your book, and then helps you make the book the best it can be.

How do I get an editor to consider my book?
Most editors aren't open to unsolicited submissions, so your agent will need to submit your book to editors on your behalf. There are exceptions to every rule - you might meet an editor at a conference who asks to read your book, for example, and some publishing houses do accept unsolicited submissions. Even then, it's helpful to have an agent, to help you navigate the world of publishing and draw up contracts. If an editor makes you an offer, you can put that in the subject line of your query letter to agents,  who will definitely sit up and pay attention!

What does it mean to go on submission?
When you agent sends your manuscript out to editors, it's called 'going on submission' or 'going on sub.' This is a huge accomplishment! Congrats! 

How does Submission work?
Your agent will write a pitch letter. Basically, it's their version of a query letter, trying to get editors to want your book. You can ask to see this if you want - it feels pretty great  to see someone talk about your book like it's the beautiful, exciting creature you always hoped it'd be!

Next, your agent will compile a list of editors (some make smaller lists, some larger, it's just their preference), and send your manuscript to them. This is called a 'round.' Generally, in about 6 weeks your agent will start hearing back from those editors (give or take a few weeks) - but you may not hear back for months. It'll be a lot of waiting. Better start working on something else in the meantime. 

You can tell your agent how much into you'd like about which editors reject your manuscript and why. Some people want to know everything, others find it emotionally devastating. Just tell your agent what you'd like to do. 

If the first round doesn't work out, your agent will send another round, and another. If a few rounds go by with no offers, your agent will talk with you about changing your approach. Does the manuscript need edits? Does the agent's approach need to change? You'll figure it out together.

But with luck, an editor will love your book, and want to acquire it!

How does an editor acquire a book?
Even if an editor loves your book, they have to bring it to the rest of their team at an acquisitions meeting and convince them all that this book will make money. If the numbers align, they'll get permission to make you an offer. 

If an editor does get to make an offer, they'll contact your agent, who will coordinate a time for you to talk. You'll decide whether this editor's offer is a good fit, and if so, your agent will draw up a publishing contract!

What is an editor going to do to my beautiful words?
They’re going to give you an edit letter. Basically it’s just comments about things they like, and things they suggest you think about or change.  You've been through  this before with your critique partners and your agent - it's not really different, except now there are deadlines. 

What if I don’t agree with their suggestions?
That’s okay! Your editor isn’t your boss, and you aren’t theirs. But before you jump to arguing, take some time to think about their comments. Then, if you still disagree, talk to your editor about why. They’ll work with you. At the end of the day, it’s your book, and they can’t make you do anything to it you don’t like. Just remember – this is their entire profession. They know what they’re doing.

Will I keep the same editor, always?
Maybe not! Some people stay with the same editor, but not everyone does. Book by book, you might work with different editors or different publishing houses over time. And even if you build a great relationship with an editor, remember that publishing houses change constantly. They merge with other publishers, fire people, hire people. Editors change jobs and titles. You might even start out working with one editor and then, for whatever reason, they might leave that publisher, and suddenly you’re working with someone new. 

Remember, through all these changes, your agent is your support system. Talk to them about any concerns or questions you have. 

 It’s a torturous thing to be a new writer, waiting and waiting for responses from agents – and then from editors, and then from readers. You wait for the chance to prove yourself. You wait your way through crushing blows and brief, tantalizing triumphs. You snare glimmers of victory in slow-motion.

The waiting also makes it hard for other people to see what you’ve accomplished, how far you’ve come. In LOTR terms, everyone around you gets to be the reader, catching up to Sam and Frodo at the exciting bits – but you're the ringbearer. You've felt every weary footfall through the marshes, and you see how far there is to go.

So what do you do about it? You practice waiting well.

Here’s the thing. Publishing won’t ever get faster. The ability to wait well is vital. Otherwise, the whiplash highs and lows will burn through your reserve energy, fast.

Waiting can feel dangerous. It’s all that quivering fuel turning inward, threatening to cannibalize itself. It’s the anxious brain’s misguided attempt to feel like it’s progressing, doing, controlling, helping, by worrying a hole through its own pockets; holes through which all kinds of awful shadows will creep.

So what do you do about it?

To start, know thyself. Learn to spot your own signals. How do you tend to behave when the waiting is taking over? Do you stop doing the little things that delight you and give you feelings of accomplishment? Make yourself pick them back up. Make someone else make you do it. Do you notice yourself breaking helpful routines? Spending too much time online? Drinking coffee or alcohol too often? Messing with your sleep schedule? Snapping at loved ones? Pacing, pacing, pacing?

You’re trying to warn yourself. Listen. 

Seek the cause-effect connections in your behavior, and you can start to interrupt them before they spiral. And please – please! – communicate your feelings to someone you trust. Ask for help. You’re not being silly. You’re not failing. You’re not wasting anyone’s time.
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Then, find things to do that are not in any way related to writing. You don’t have to be good at them. And drink some water, for goodness sake. 

Last, and perhaps hardest of all – rewrite your thinking about this.

It’s so easy to think the big moments are going to make you happy. It’s so easy to pin all your joy, hope, and positivity to those few quick glimmers. But writer, you’ve got to cut that out.

I don’t mean you should stop hoping. Certainly not. Never stop hoping. Get excited. Keep a tight hold on the joy that brought you to the page.

But you’ve also got to find other ways to let hope into your brain - things you're in control of. Instead of sitting in the dark, waiting for the Spirits of Publishing to turn on the light, open some windows for yourself. Those windows are already there, and always have been - you've just stopped paying attention to them. 

Other joys are just as valid, just as important, just as vital. This one hope is big, yes - but it's not the only hope. 

Start telling yourself a different version of the story. And you can do that. It’s what you’re all about. Remind yourself that the best part is never the happily ever after. It’s the beginning’s potential and promise. It’s the middle’s messy twists. It’s the buildup to the end.

So instead of, ‘Won’t it be great when?’ try to see what’s great about the chapter you’re part of right now. Look at how far you’ve come. Look at the angle of the light around you. Look, and look again.

It’s a balancing act; keep your eyes between the horizon and the dirt. Don’t focus too long on either. Even the earth itself knows to turn away from the sun after a while.

I’m still practicing this, and probably always will be. But while I’m waiting for those big moments, I try to keep my garden green, my cat spoiled, my loved ones loved. I sit with the memory of my younger self, all terror-hope, all burning excitement to be a writer – and I do my best to build a whole life that honors her.

The  thing you're waiting for will find you, and when it does, I hope it finds you well. 

1. It’s supposed to be garbage. The writing process is about messing up. You’re supposed to make a lot of mistakes. It’s supposed to be a huge pile of trash, most of the way through. So if your work seems terrible, you’re probably doing it right.
2. It can always be better. Always. At some point, the pile of garbage starts to sparkle and shine. Great! But it can still shine more! This doesn’t mean your best isn’t good enough. It means you’re learning to push your own limits, be your own teacher. That’s how you grow. Learn to make yourself proud, by knowing you worked as hard as you possibly could. You’ll know if you could’ve done better; you’ll also know if you did your absolute best, no matter what anybody says.
3. It’s okay to get frustrated. It’s okay to be confused, or make mistakes. Remember step one. If you get stuck, take a deep breath and stretch. Scribble on a spare sheet of paper, or think of the last time you laughed really hard. Then keep going. You can do this. 

This is all about brainstorming a lot of ideas. It’s like opening a toolbox: you won’t need every tool in there, but the more you have, the more you can build.

Pick a topic. Maybe someone gave you a prompt. Maybe you can make it up.  Both awesome!

"But I'm out of ideas!"
Don't freak out. Little secret: it happens to everybody. A blank sheet of paper can be scary. Even people who write for a living are scared of blank pages. Seriously. A blank page makes you think, ‘What if my idea is stupid? What if I can’t think of anything?’ It’s okay to feel that way, but you can't let it win. 

Ways To Get Ideas

• What If? Ask yourself a few “What if?” questions, and come up with the answers. “What if everyone became invisible except me? What if the future is different?  What if ___ turned into ____? What if suddenly, ____ ?” How many can you come up with?
• Search your feelings: What makes you angriest? What makes you happy, even when nothing is okay? What makes you laugh? What would you really like other people to understand about the way you see the world?
• Trusty Friend: Here’s my favorite. Think of somebody you trust, who would never make fun of you. It can be somebody real, or a character you look up to, or someone who’s not around anymore. Write their name at the top of your paper. Now, imagine they can read everything you’re writing. Tell them anything you want. Tell them some more. Don’t worry, they like hearing your ideas. You can’t go wrong. If it helps, write that person's response to you, in their voice. 
• Picture It: Can’t find the words? Try drawing it! Or, collect four or five images that have a feeling you like, and imagine what connects them. 

 
Now, look back at what you wrote or drew. Pick out the ideas you like best. These are the tools you’ll use.

Time to build with your tools!

Here’s where you take all those scattered ideas and start putting them in order. Now, this is important. Say it with me. A draft is never perfect. It’s not supposed to be. Just get down the basic shape of the thing you want. It might take a few tries.

Just get to the end. You'll go back and fix it later, but first, you've got to have something to fix!​

Okay, remember how I said it’s not supposed to be perfect? Now’s the time to patch it up. Your goal is to make it the best it can be, and that’s going to mean re-writing it a few times. Each time you do, it’ll be better than before.

It took me about eight drafts to get the final version of my book into good enough shape to be published. But I also had about 50 other drafts of abandoned chapters, failed plots, and false starts - not counting all the chapters I threw out. 

Why? Because I knew it could be better, and I wouldn’t let myself down.

Tips:
Am I trying to put in too many ideas? Yes, they’re all good, but some of them might be getting in the way, and making it hard to understand your point. Think of basketball: if too many people are on the court, they bump into each other, and the game gets confusing.
Do I need to explain things a little more? Something that seems obvious to you might be confusing to someone else with different experiences. Imagine your reader is from outer space, and has no idea what you’re talking about. It might seem silly to you, but chances are, it’s helping your reader see what you see.
Is this doing what I wanted it to do? Be honest with yourself. Look at where you started, and where you ended. Do they match, or did you get sidetracked? Try to make sure you’re still on the same topic  or story you started with, from beginning to end. ​

Ok. No more big changes. It’s down to all the little fixes your teachers and editors are always talking about.

Read it to yourself. Out loud, if possible. It'll help you catch mistakes your eye overlooked, and you'll hear the parts that don't sound so great. 
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Check your punctuation – does every sentence end with some kind of punctuation mark? Is it the right kind? Did you leave any punctuation marks around where they shouldn't be? 

Check your spelling. Don’t trust a computer to understand what you meant to say.

“A heavy frog" and "a heavy fog" are both spelled correctly, but they're very different things to watch rolling over your house!  

​You did it! You’re done! Do you have any idea how cool this is?

Listen, seriously. Most people who want to be writers never finish their story. They get through a draft, maybe two, and then they give up. No joke. You just did something that about 80% of writers have never done before. You worked hard, and you finished the thing!

Publishing it might mean handing it in to your teacher. It might mean publishing it in a school paper. It might mean printing it out and handing it to all your friends, or leaving copies at local businesses. I've done all of those!
For authors, publishing means giving a manuscript to a publisher, who prints it as a book.

That all counts! So dance a little dance. Have a snack. Imagine someone you love giving you a hug. You did it, and you’re awesome. ​

This is a little bit like asking ‘how long is a piece of string?’
Every book is different. It takes as long as it needs to take.

I know, I know. That’s pretty frustrating. Waiting is hard.

But think about the question you’re asking. When you say ‘how long does it take to write a book,’ what kind of book are you talking about? After all, there are as many kinds of books as there are ideas. Some are poems, some are recipes, some have no words at all. The very definition of ‘a book’ changes over time and place – campfire storytelling, scrolls of parchment, pages folded up like accordions, stories chiseled in stone. Maybe the kind of book you’re making hasn’t been invented yet.

No one kind of book is better or easier. What matters is how much time your idea needs, and how often you can work on it. There's no shortcut. 

Like a professional athlete, you’re always looking for ways to get stronger, quicker. You’re always challenging yourself to do better.

And that can take a while.

It’s easy to get discouraged. A lot of writers start to feel tired of their book about halfway through it. You start to forget why you were excited to write. Maybe you even feel silly working so hard on something you don’t know if anyone will ever read.

This is when you have to do something really difficult. Something that takes a lot of inner strength. You have to dig deep, and trust yourself. Trust that you’re patient enough to do this. Trust that your idea is good, and it’ll get shiny and fun again soon. Trust that your hard work will pay off. You’ll get through this. You can. You will.

How do you know when it’s strong enough?

When you know, without lying to yourself, that you’ve done your best. Remember, there’s a big difference between improvement and perfectionism; just like an athlete, you can over-train into exhaustion. But in the end, it’s up to you.

That’s kind of the great thing about it. No one is looking over your shoulder, telling you to try a little harder or asking if you’ve done your homework. It’s your story. You’re the judge. If you’re slacking, you’ll know. But you’ll also know when you’ve made yourself proud.
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However long that takes.

What a pure question! It’s a great one. A question like that is the beginning of everything. The greatest philosophers start here, with this one question. People have been arguing about it for centuries.
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It’s a question about thought. We’re all curious about that. We all look into our heads and wonder what’s going on in there, how it happens, whether it works the same way for other people as it does for us.

Of course, when someone asks a writer this, they’re thinking about it in terms of story. They’re asking, How did you come up with that? What made you think of it? What happened in your brain, to turn that wardrobe into a door? (And will this question be good enough, because my teacher told me I had to ask the writer something.)
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There’s a reason this is the first question that comes to mind when people talk to writers. It’s a simple way to open an old, mysterious box and find out what’s inside. 

See, we’re all curious about stories. The more we understand about them, the more we can make sense of the world, and ourselves. Stories are one of our oldest tools for making sense of things, organizing our ideas, and communicating. Stories change our minds. Stories are our minds.



Writers don’t know any more or less about how their minds work than you do. They come up with ideas just like you. They wonder what you wonder.

The only difference is, they might add an extra thought to the first one. And then another after that.
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So if you’re looking for ideas, look no farther than the things that make you the most curious. Start with those ‘What If?’ questions.

What if everyone but me turned invisible? What if that house is haunted? What if I stood up right now and shouted what I’m really feeling inside?
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Then follow where those questions lead. Listen to your own sense of wonder.
What story is it trying to tell you?