How I published a novel — the 9 things I learnt the hard way

Here is that list.

1. Understand this key fact: no one wants your novel

It’s not personal. The invention of modern word processing and email has made writing and submitting a novel very easy. And the extraordinary success of writers such as JK Rowling, Sarah J Maas and Lee Child has made people think that simply publishing any old novel means total life satisfaction plus loads of money. Lockdown turbocharged this. Therefore, everyone who works in publishing lives in a state of terror at the avalanche of unsolicited fiction manuscripts billowing through their laptops. Know this: they are not excited to read your work. They are not drumming their fingers on their desk thinking, “When, oh when will someone send me a debut fiction manuscript?” They’re wondering if it’s OK to just Ctrl+A+Del their entire inbox. Some agents write on their websites: “Unsolicited manuscripts will be deleted, unread.”

2. If you are still reading, congratulations!

You have passed the first test of any debut novelist, which is to keep going in the face of a total lack of interest in your creative work. In fact, getting fiction published is 90 per cent carrying on despite complete global indifference, no financial reward, repeated rejection and the worst of the worst: ghostings. People tell that story about how Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone was rejected by 14 publishers as if that’s a lot of publishers. My first novel was rejected by 28 publishers before finding an editor, and I spent the decade before that being turned down by editors and agents all over the place, and not always kindly. I was being told, “No. Go away,” so many times I thought I was going to go mad. And then I wondered if perhaps I had actually gone mad, and that’s why I kept writing fiction that no one wanted.

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3. You have no idea how to write a novel, and that’s fine

This is the big one. I spent probably six of those ten years in the wilderness hacking away at fiction, wondering why it didn’t “work”. Answer: because writing fiction is not instinctive, like sneezing, it’s a thing you have to learn to do, like cooking or driving. You need to know how to make a novel work before you start writing it or you will hit a brick wall at 30,000 words or 50,000 words. The good news is that expensive and exclusive creative writing courses are not the only answer. Only do one of these if you are accepted onto — and can afford the time and money outlay of — a famous one, such as NYU, Curtis Brown, Faber, Goldsmiths or that one at East Anglia that Ian McEwan made famous. Be very wary of others, which are often run by failed novelists-turned-sadists. You can learn everything about novel-writing from how-to books. It’s not cheating. There are rules to writing fiction and you need to know what they are, even if you choose to ignore or subvert them. The best novelists, from John Steinbeck to Donna Tartt, are the ones who most deftly disguise the classic fiction framework their work hangs on. Just go on Amazon and pick at least three how-to-write-a-novel books you like the look of, then read them all and take notes.

4. Be extremely careful who you show your work-in-progress to

Your friends and family will not tell you the truth about your writing, because they’re not stupid. Are they really going to tell you what you’ve written is drivel and that it needs a total rewrite? They also, by the way, have no idea (unless your brother-in-law is Richard Osman) what fiction agents or editors are looking for in new work. You need to exercise caution when it comes to who you tell you’re writing a novel. People you would normally consider to be friends can be surprisingly unsupportive: they may find it pretentious or threatening. You don’t need that negative energy.

5. You will probably have to write at least one complete manuscript that never goes anywhere before you write something that you can actually sell

I think JoJo Moyes wrote two. I have written three novels that will never be read by anyone. That’s 240,000 words that will languish in darkness for ever — and that’s not counting huge sections of my published novel that were discarded because of rewrites. It is quite normal for the work that you finally manage to sell to be the one where you thought, “If this one doesn’t work, I’m giving up.” If you can’t cope with that prospect then please, do not be a novelist. Live a happy life doing something else.

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6. There is no money in writing fiction

A £4,000 advance for debut fiction is reasonably common and 15 per cent of that will go to your agent. But don’t despair, because huge advances can be a curse: the pressure to sell your book rockets to dizzying heights and everyone will know you had a massive advance and be snippy about it. A tiny fraction of novelists make a profit from their work and the rest of us do it because we are unable to stop. It feels like a punishment dished out by ancient gods: cursed endlessly to write fiction that gets so-so reviews and sells 423 copies.

7. There is no praise in fiction writing

If you are writing a novel with the expectation of praise then stop right there, amigo. You will never, ever get the praise you want, or think you are owed. Or even genuinely deserve! If some praise does come along, it won’t be enough, or you will think, “They are just being polite.” When you submit your novel, no editor will say, “Wow, you wrote an actual whole novel, that’s amazing!” because this is the eighth debut novel they’ve seen before lunch. There will be many polite brush-offs. (“I’m sure I’ll be kicking myself when this is a bestseller!”) There will also be breathtakingly cruel knock-backs, eg “I couldn’t get past page three.” If you actually get published, God help you: people are never more cruel than when sticking it to a book they didn’t enjoy. If someone with a grudge decides to trash you on Goodreads, there’s not much you can do. The only motivation to write fiction ought to be because you can’t not. See point six.

8. Write a fashionable book

People will tell you not to, but this is insane advice, delivered by people who don’t want you to get a publishing contract. Write the most fashionable, trendy book you personally possibly can. My debut novel, about a woman who has to look after her niece for a summer, was the most modern-sounding book that I could conjure up — and that is the one that sold. Whether it’s romantasy, cosy crime or a Colleen Hoover rip-off, go for it. The only caveat is that you need to genuinely enjoy reading those kinds of books yourself. If you try to cynically “bash out” a genre novel it won’t work. If you really are into those sorts of cheesy bestsellers, you are in massive luck. Lean in.

9. Publishing is a business

The people who working in publishing might like to use all sorts of words like “compelling”, “beautiful”, “moving”, “important” but let’s get real: publishing is about money and success. Your feelings, as a writer, are not high on anyone’s list of priorities. If you are a debut novelist, you are off the priority list entirely and on the floor, being kicked about with all the fag butts and bottle caps. Try not to take it personally. Or at least try not to bear a grudge.

Esther Walker’s debut novel, Well, This Is Awkward (Bedford Square £16.99), will be published on September 11. To order a copy go to timesbookshop.co.uk or call 020 3176 2935. Free UK standard P&P on online orders over £25. Special discount available for Times+ members