If At First You Don’t Succeed: A Book Publishing Timeline
Sometimes when we see books being launched into the world, it can seem to the external observer like the process happened overnight. In reality, whether you’re traditionally publishing or self-publishing, the process takes time––and for some people, it takes a lot of time.
I am part of that latter group, the group that seems a little slower to get to the finish line, the group whose walk along the publishing road involved plenty of left turns and backtracking. Some of those left turns were scenic; some led me into a valley I never wanted to enter. But in the process, I’ve learned Julia Cameron’s words are true. She wrote, “Very often audacity, not talent, makes one person an artist and another a shadow artist–hiding in the shadows, afraid to step out and expose the dream to the light, fearful that it will disintegrate to the touch.”[1]
I’ve been a writer hiding in the shadows, afraid of falling, afraid of missteps, afraid of rejection. That fear has so often kept me from putting any words on the page at all. I’ve been afraid of negative comments, which have come and no doubt will come again. I’ve been afraid of typos in my finished work. (Can I tell you something? There are typos in my book. I’m annoyed about it…but also? I survived, and I’ve learned that if I’m requiring perfection of myself, I will never write a darned thing at all.)
Writing—and all art—requires audacity. It requires us to step out of the shadows and hit one key after another, paint one stroke after another, take one photo after another, and then repeat the process ad infinitum. It requires us to look perfectionism and insecurity and comparison in the face and say, “You don’t get to win over my work today.” Anne Lamott, the unofficial patron saint of writing, said that “perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor”[2]. Have the audacity to fight that oppressor.
I have a lot to learn about writing and publishing. Even as I launch my own book into the world, I cannot tell you the number of times I’ve said to myself (and to my mastermind group), “I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing.” But here is what I do know: I need to put one foot in front of the other if I want to keep doing this work. I have to summon the audacity and fortitude to write one more sentence, to edit one more paragraph, to submit a piece one more time. Otherwise, I end up staring at a blank screen, wishing I was a writer instead of just being a writer.*
It’s taken me a long time to get from the point where I said, “I want to write a book” to the point where I actually have a book in the world. Nobody’s journey to publishing looks exactly the same, but I wanted to pull back the curtain and share a timeline of mine.
This timeline doesn't even include all the twists and turns my road to publication included, and you don’t have to read every word to get the point.
Skim it if needed, because what I share is not a method. It’s not a track you necessarily should follow. It’s not an instruction manual. It’s simply a way for me to tell you that if it takes a heck of a long time to get your work out into the world, that’s okay. If you get rejected, that’s normal. If you have to pivot, you’re in good company.
If you’ve got art in your soul or a book in your heart or a project brewing inside, don’t give up. Change directions if needed. Sharpen your ideas. Take a break when necessary. But fight like hell to keep going.
Have the audacity, as our fearless leader, Ashlee Gadd, says, to create anyway.
*A writer is someone who writes. Do you write? Start calling yourself a writer. Audaciously own that part of yourself.
[1] The Artist’s Way, page 27.
[2] Bird by Bird, page 93.
2017
Late winter/spring
I started to dream about writing a book about food and theology, not just in the “someday” wishful thinking sense, but in the more practical, “Okay, what do I need to do to actually make this happen?”
May
While pregnant with my third child, I took an online writing course, which was the first significant financial investment in my writing.
July
I took a one-day book proposal writing course a couple weeks after having a baby. I don’t recommend that chaotic timing. Hah. I spent the following year reading, researching, and honing a book idea.
2018
June
I went to a local writing retreat where I had a 15-minute meeting with an agent, Dan, and presented him with a one-sheet summary of my book idea (my proposal wasn’t done yet; otherwise, I would have presented a full proposal).
September
I finally finished my first book proposal, paid a freelance copy editor to review it, and at the end of the month, submitted it to Dan.
October - December
For many different reasons, I ended up chatting with four different agents at three different agencies. Much to my chagrin, they didn’t think my proposal was the best thing ever written. But in December I finally signed a contract with an agent (let’s call him Tim), with his caveat that my proposal wasn’t “there” yet, but he still wanted to work with me.
He also told me, “I don’t think this book is going to be your first book.” Which was exciting, because I thought Wow! He thinks I can write another book! But also, Crap. I need to do this whole proposal process all over again?
November 2018 - November 2019
I talked intermittently with Tim while working on my writing, but it was clear my book and platform, at least for him, weren’t there yet.
2019
My book wasn’t really going anywhere—
and Tim didn’t seem ecstatic about the other ideas I’d sent him. I kept trying to send him stuff that wasn’t ready. In hindsight, I can see I was desperate to be published.
August 2019 - August 2020
I did a one year paid mastermind course where I met my dear friend, Melissa Brownback, who would eventually write the appendix for my book!
This was a very dark year for me personally. I struggled deeply for several years with depression, and 2019 felt especially heavy. Had I gotten a contract for that very first book proposal I’d submitted in 2018, I never would have been able to function well enough to write that book.
2020
Yeah, so, 2020.
What a dumpster fire. But here’s the thing––I started to come out of my own dark season, and I’d been writing about grief and weariness and lament during it. Then 2020 hit, and some of the things I’d been writing seemed to meet people where they were. God seemed to be prying my own agenda––including my original food and theology book––out of my hands and replacing it with something else. And that was truly a grace.
April
I signed up for a coaching call with an established author and just told her where I was at in the process (i.e. the fact that I was sort of stuck and didn’t know what to do). Her advice? Pray every day for 30 days. Why I didn’t think of that first, I will never know.
I didn’t hear a voice from God after those 30 days, unfortunately. I felt confused still, and of course, in the spring of 2020, everything felt uncertain. I’d also just (reluctantly) committed to homeschool my twins for kindergarten because of COVID, so in my mind, there was no way I could write a book.
Still, certain themes kept rising up in my life and in my writing: grief, lament, hope, weariness, asking for help, comparison. Through my own therapy and wrestling with God, I started to wonder if maybe there was another book I was supposed to write. I kept notecards and jotted down ideas, but I’d learned by this point I couldn’t force publication. If I was supposed to write a book, God was going to have to make a way.
June
My sister-in-law randomly called me and asked me if she could take my kids out for the entire day–from 9am-5pm. Just because. That day, I gathered all my ideas, notecards, Bible verses, etc. I’d been collecting for a year. I hung huge sheets of paper around my office and organized all my content. I had a rough outline for an entirely new book by the end of the day.
Throughout the rest of that year, while homeschooling my twins (okay, I use that term loosely, because I was not the greatest of homeschool teachers) and caring for a three-year-old, I fleshed out that outline and worked on a new book proposal.
2021
January 7
Out of the blue, I got an email from Dan, the agent I’d met at the writing retreat in 2018! He told me he was back to acquiring nonfiction titles and wanted to give me a heads-up in case I had anything in the works. I responded that I had a new idea in process and would love to send it to him when it was ready.
That same day, I sent an informal query about my new book, then titled Hold Fast: Truth to Steady the Worn and Wavering Soul to Tim, the agent I was still technically signed with, asking for feedback. I never heard back. At this point, I mostly just wanted to see if he even knew I still existed.
March
I was invited to speak at a friend’s church, jumping in on a series they were doing in the gospel of Matthew. I gave the pastor four passages from Matthew I’d be able to speak on. He chose Matthew 11:28-30 out of that bunch, so I did a deep dive into that passage, having no clue those verses would actually relate to the book I was writing.
April 5
I signed up (and paid) for a 15-minute pitch meeting with another agent (we’re at five agents I’ve spoken with, in case you’re trying to keep track). She gave me really helpful advice about my angle, which sort of unlocked a missing piece of my proposal. In the days afterward, I realized my sermon I gave back in March perfectly coordinated with the angle shift this agent had suggested.
June 5
I sent Tim another query for my updated book proposal, now titled, All Who Are Weary. Again, I never heard back and didn’t expect to. I just felt like I needed to send it to him anyway. I also queried another agency for good measure and heard back about a week later from an admin person that “for several reasons this project isn’t a fit for our firm,” and then she proceeded to tell me some of those reasons. It’s always helpful to hear feedback, of course, but the critique stung.
June 9
I queried Dan and sent him my proposal. I had a meeting with him later that week and signed with his agency a few days after that.
June 14
I sent Tim an email officially notifying him I was “terminating my contract.” Honestly, I don’t even know if I was still signed with him, but I wanted to make it official and have a paper trail.
Late June
Dan and I revised my proposal, and he sent it out to editors. The process was slow, especially because of summer/vacations. We didn’t send it to any huge publishing houses because of my lower platform. We focused on sort of second-tier Christian publishing houses (I say “second-tier” in terms of size, not necessarily quality). He initially sent it to 14 houses.
June - August
I ended up having meetings with five of those publishing houses, and I didn’t hear back or received an overt rejection from the other nine. Of the remaining five, I received three more rejections after my editor meetings. I got two offers and accepted the offer from Moody. My agent then had some back and forth with them on the finer points of their offer (all normal, and this is why it can be beneficial to have an agent).
This process was exhausting. Talk about an emotional roller coaster.
September 23
The final Moody contract was signed, sealed, delivered. (Well, actually it was emailed.) I had a few introductory meetings with my acquisitions editor and dove into writing.
December 13
I had my fourth baby. This made the writing process slightly insane and extra exhausting (which was ironic since I was writing a book about rest and weariness).
2022
January - July
Lots of writing, tears, editing, pounding my head on the table, existential crises, frantic Voxes to my mastermind group, breakdowns in front of my husband, moments of joy when a writing session went well, and sessions of writing with a baby attached to me.
July 1, 2022
My manuscript was due, and I turned it in at 11:22pm. And then, of course, I noticed some errors and had to update the manuscript over the weekend and resend it a few days later.
The rest of 2022
There were a few weeks of downtime here and there as Moody read and edited the manuscript––and then frantic weeks where I had to edit and rework chapters. Again, lots of tears and banging my head on the table.
December
My book was sent to the printer.
2023
January - April
This season involved working on guest posts, marketing materials, speaking commitments, recording the audiobook (which was a whole journey itself). Many days, I said to my editors, agent, and writer friends, “What am I supposed to be doing? I don’t know what I’m doing.” Again, a roller coaster.
April 4 – Launch Day!
The rest of 2023
Marketing, publicity, and taking a long, deep breath. What a road it’s been, and I’m so grateful.
