What I Wish I’d Known is a regular series where we ask some of our favourite writers to reflect on their writing and publishing journey, and share some of the unexpected and useful things they’ve learned along the way. In this instalment, writers reflect on the experience of promoting and publicising their work.
Emma Viskic, Those Who Perish (March)
Promoting a book for the first time is like being plunged into an ice bath after a long sauna. After sweating away in your own juices for years, it can come as quite a shock to have to talk about your writing. But you want the publicity, you really do. Because without it, no one will know your book exists. So ignore the growing feeling that you don’t actually want anyone to read it, and come up with an origin story: who are you, how did you become a writer, what is your book about. Yes, this is hard. Life is messy, and there are myriad reasons why you wrote a coming of age novel narrated by a dung beetle, but save all that for your memoir. For now, keep it simple and try to find the most interesting version of the truth. And if you manage to do all that, please let me know how.
Gary Lonesborough, The Boy From the Mish
I wish I’d known I’d have to speak to crowds of hundreds of people about my book. I’m an introvert and public speaking was never something I enjoyed or aspired to do. Writing is such a solitary, private act. Writing The Boy From the Mish, I was alone in my room, typing away with the door closed and the music loud. I spent so much time in this cocoon with my characters and my story, and I really wasn’t prepared to speak to hundreds and hundreds of strangers when the book was published.
Sara El Sayed, Muddy People
Before publishing, I had pictured myself churning out book after book. Striking again and again while the iron is hot. But I didn’t realise how long it would take me to get over the first one. While the book has been out for about six months now, I don’t feel like there’s been closure in terms of campaign/tour/promotion, mainly because most events were cancelled last year, and are happening again this year. Don’t get me wrong, it’s great that we get to make up for lost opportunities, but at the same time it’s prolonging this feeling of incompleteness, of vulnerability and exposure, which has made it almost impossible for me to write (anything good, at least).
Writing memoir is like taking a physical part of yourself out of your body and putting it into the hands of others. It’s terrifying, and I think about it all the time. Publishing my book has left this big gaping hole in me that, I’ve come to realise, needs to heal before I can move on. I wish I’d appreciated that earlier, and not been so hard on myself for producing so little during this time.
Katerina Bryant, Hysteria
I wish I’d known that when being interviewed, especially when questions about lived experience of disability arose, I would be met with ableism as well as compassion, openness and disclosure of an interviewer’s or viewer’s lived experience. Going into an interaction, I never knew which it would be. It was an immensely rewarding and difficult process. I wish I’d known to tell myself go gently, be proud.
Claire Thomas, The Performance
Book publicity is fraught with the inflated expectations of people who care too much. It is an object lesson in dignity. It can be a mortifying hustle or a gratifying celebration. It can feel arbitrary, rigged, impossible, but also exciting.
You need to be cooperative, but uncompromised, to mainly say yes so that when you want to say no, you’re not being difficult. Don’t try to decipher the relationships between reviews and bookstagram and publicity and marketing. It’ll do your head in. You need to remember that there is limited space on shelves and stages and pages. This is only one book.
Sometimes, a writer might get a well-read, emotionally astute, dream publicist who understands her work, her person, and her public limits (hello, Tessa Connelly, ex-Hachette). If this happens, cherish it! Find your readers! Bask in the fleeting light! And then crawl back into your cave. Because the writing’s the best bit. That’s my top tip.
Ella Baxter, New Animal
Obviously, I wish I had known to be ruthless and strategic because both are effective, but the literary scene doesn’t need any more narcissistic behaviour. I guess I didn’t realise how many answers I would blank on. I forgot character names, plot points, inspiration, and meaning. I have found it has been okay to lie occasionally. Someone once told me it’s important to say the title of your book so people remember it. Also, stand on your legs if you do a radio interview because it gives your voice energy. I wish I had known not to wallow. To drink more water. To be kinder to myself.
Alice Bishop, A Constant Hum
Before I had a book published I was terrified of speaking in front of audiences. I shouldn’t have been, though.
Audiences are generally so kind, even when you’re talking about tough things, and people come to book events to hear what you have to say (they’re not there to criticise how you look or what you’re wearing—and, if they are there for that, they’re not worth worrying about anyway). I’ve made friends, through book events and panels, I’ll always have.
Also, for someone with a bit of social anxiety over the years (and that’s most of us!), the many events and interviews for my first book taught me to be happy just being myself on stage.
It’s about the book, anyway. The work. That’s always really helpful to remember.
Check out the previous entries in the series, on what writers wish they’d known about: being edited, book covers and reviews.
Want to learn more about the ins and outs of the publishing process? Check out Getting Published with Rebecca Starford and Hannah Kent, or any other of our Online Writing Courses, available to complete in your own time, at your own pace.
