One Year Later: Five Tips for Emerging Authors

Image by Tommy Kwak via Unsplash

Happy Book Birthday week!

It’s official: Summer Triangle has been out in the world for a year! In all honesty, I’m still pinching myself that it exists. My book has brought so many wonderful people into my life and has taken me down so many unexpected paths. I’m beyond grateful for the opportunities that have come my way. What an incredible year it’s been.

Maybe every debut novel necessitates a steep learning curve. I’ve been fortunate to have the guidance of my amazing publishing team at Atmosphere Press, but I’ve also had to learn my own lessons along the way. If you’re at all inclined to write your own book - or to launch any creative endeavor, I have some tips for you today. Without further ado, I give you what I wish I’d known from the very beginning.

• It’s not only a book. It’s a business.

The journey of writing Summer Triangle was intensely vulnerable for me. As I’ve noted before, I wrote my novel in sprints. Early mornings. Late nights. Naptimes. I found the process of developing characters and storylines, of climbing inside their world, both cathartic and raw. I loved the thrill of writing and editing - even as, sometimes, storytelling left me emotionally exhausted.

Releasing the book, I would soon learn, requires a different energy.

Initially, I found the pivot to promoting my book overwhelming. Yet as soon as a friend advised me to treat my book like a business, my perspective shifted overnight. I was able to approach marketing with fresh boundaries - and some distance, too. I soaked up knowledge about the publishing industry. I cultivated professional connections. I learned to balance the tedious trees of daily author life with the forest: the long-term vision I have for my work.

To be clear, this reframe is far from the romantic notion I had of authors as a reader. Picture Hemingway typing with whiskey in hand in Key West, or Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir debating philosophy over cocktails in Paris. This salesmanship doesn’t seem to resonate with their freewheeling author lives. But still, learning to evaluate my work through a more detached, professional lens has been helpful to me.

At this stage in my publishing journey, I’ve found that approaching writing with a business mindset allows for better decision-making and planning. Happily, it depersonalizes rejection, too. On the other side of creative work is the (equally important!) work of selling it to the masses. And selling well doesn’t render a creative a sell-out. After all, it’s just business.

• Social media will be “cringe” in the beginning. Connect anyway.

The first time I made a reel at home for social media, I was stunned by my own self-doubt. Why was it hard to make a video in the comfort of my own home? Why did it feel so weird to talk to my phone, teetering on a stack of books? Why does it feel strange to speak to a crowd in an empty room?

I’ve learned that it feels strange because it is a little strange. I’ve found that the process of opening up comes more easily over time - and there are exquisite opportunities for connection in vulnerability. I’ve learned that showing up isn’t simply marketing but building relationships.

But before I learned those lessons, I felt - as my 12yo would say - “cringe.”

I’ve been wary of social media forever. I’m naturally a very private person. As a parent, I’m especially concerned about its effects on children and teenagers. Before I began showing up professionally on social media, I was beating the drum of its sharp edges. The way a phone at the dinner table can kill conversation. The way algorithms present questionable content to children. The way technological advances sever face-to-face connection.

And while I still have concerns about social media, my professional life has introduced me to its positive attributes. Aside from the opportunity to scale my work, I’ve also met a community of writers with the same interests, values, and dreams as me. The experience of connecting with them has been revelatory. Not only have I learned important details about the publishing industry, I’ve also been given advice that I keep close to my heart. I’ve made friends that I now value as much as my friends in my (real?) life. My digital community has enriched my world.

If you have any creative aspirations, I’d nudge you to join us there - with limits. Figure out your boundaries first. How will you protect your privacy? How will you engage with difficult people? How will you set limits on your social media engagement - before it elbows its way too far into your actual life? Once there, I would also encourage you to see where you can lift others up. Can you promote someone else’s project? Can you use it as an opportunity to deepen existing connections?

I now feel less self-conscious when I’m filming - though, yes, it’s still super weird. But I didn’t get to this place of freedom, play, and comfort alone. I got there with the support of my (digital) people. I don’t know where I would be without them.

• Enjoy the domino effect: now that you’re living your dream, other people will whisper theirs.

From the outset, I viewed my book as an accomplishment - but a private one. I had realized a dream I’d had for as long as I can remember. It mattered to me, and of course, to my family. I expected to celebrate with them. I also expected to connect with readers and people within the publishing realm.

What I hadn’t expected was for other people in my life to share their dreams.

I won’t reveal too much here - these secrets aren’t mine to tell. Even as their openness caught me off guard, I found their visions inspiring. Someone close to me wants to start painting again. Another has a (very innovative!) idea for a business. Another recently started an amazing business. Someone else simply sighed and said they wanted to do something creative, but they weren’t sure what it is.

Melinda Gates, in her new autobiography The Next Day, calls this between-space “the clearing.” I find the term apt. I’ve never had a name for this space, but I absolutely recognize the itchy/restless/something-is-coming-but-I’m-not-sure-what-it-is feeling as intrinsic to the creative process. Before the idea, there is always, always, always the clearing. I was able to share with my friend that I’d been there, too. All of us dreamers end up there eventually.

Before my book, I was too self-focused. I’d forgotten how interconnected we all are. One person trying to live a dream (whether or not it succeeds) creates a ripple effect. As it takes shape for one of us, we realize it’s never too late for the rest of us to realize our dreams, too. Courage is contagious.

Now, I find myself humbled and inspired by their big ideas. I can’t wait to cheer them on as they come into fruition - because I do know they’re coming. I feel honored to be included when others dream out loud. Because what is the point of any creative endeavor if not to pass the torch on?

• Book reviews are more important than your spleen.

Some of you are holding up a hand right now, getting ready to argue that spleens perform essential bodily functions. If you say so.

For most of my life, book reviews and spleens have been one in the same. I never thought about them much. In my post-book life, I now realize that success often hinges on reviews. They matter not only for authors but also for musicians, podcasters, restauranteurs, entrepreneurs, etc. Reviews nudge the algorithms to share work with a larger audience. Also, they offer important, immediate feedback - and this real-time response to our work is gold.

Maybe you knew this was coming, but if you’ve read and enjoyed Summer Triangle, please consider leaving a review on your favorite platform(s). They fill my author heart more than I can say.

Update: Apparently, the spleen plays a vital role in protecting your immune system by producing antibodies and filtering blood.

But also? You can live without a spleen, so there’s that. I said what I said.

• Give yourself permission to begin.

What do I wish someone had said to me on the day of Summer Triangle’s release?

“Take heart: this is only the beginning.”

At every stage in our lives, we need to give ourselves permission to begin again - we need to know we can. Beginnings are often rocky, clumsy, frightening, exhilarating spaces. We’re faking our way forward, unsure of what looms ahead. We have no idea what we’re doing. How could we? A beginning means we’re doing something for the first time.

Yet society saturates beginnings with the pressure to perform. Every seed must bloom - instantly.

But sometimes, this pressure arrives coupled with a built-in chilling effect. Sometimes, we think our efforts aren’t worthwhile unless they shimmer with stratospheric success from the beginning. And if success isn’t guaranteed, is it worth the effort to even try?

I’ve found peace in taking the long view. I’m currently working on Summer Triangle’s sequel, revisiting certain characters and meeting new ones. Amidst the headiness of promotion, my work on the sequel is grounding and reminds me of why I wrote Summer Triangle in the first place. I still simply love to write. It’s still where I go to escape, to play, to invent, to imagine. I come home to it. I’ve been writing stories since I was a little girl - long before I knew they could be anything other than fun. For me, the true gift of the past year has been the opportunity to share my work with you.

So, dear creatives, I would encourage you to follow your heart and begin. Today, if possible. To play with your idea. To make it fun. To make it yours. To ignore any noise that shrinks your creativity. To someday summon the courage to share it with the world.

Take heart: this is only the beginning.